Salmon-Huckleberry Bog Knocks

 

The following two knocks are the best recorded out of six total for the night.
They occurred between 12:30 am and 2:45 am on the morning of 7/10/10.

The fourth knock of the evening

The sixth knock of the evening

Arriving at the location several hours earlier than my friend I was to meet, I took the opportunity to walk around the small lake that had formed from the unusually heavy spring rains and snow.  My goal was to find out what kind of animals were using this area, as well as keeping my eye out for sasquatch footprints.

Deer seemed to be abundant.  I found faint bear prints at the far side of the marsh, along with very clear prints from some sort of heron.  Pollywogs infested the shallows, basking in the 80+ degree water.  There were tiny toads in the grass clumps near the water.  Food was abundant.

At one point, I encountered likely human prints coming down through a clear cut to the lake.  A dog accompanied the person.  Faint boot prints showed in the dry ground, yet barefoot prints were still visible in the mud near the water’s edge.  I photographed them for your viewing pleasure, but also to again illustrate that footprint photographs rarely look very good at all.  In person, the toes could be clearly seen and extend to the tip of my tape measure, though it looks like they start somewhere around the two inch mark.  Remember this the next time you see a photograph of a really good sasquatch footprint:  if it looks good in a photo, it must have been magnificent in person.

 

The pond was deep enough to allow a quick dip before I wandered through the woods back to my camp.  Only the top two or three feet of the pond was warm at all, so the swim was refreshing in the hot sun.  Cooled off, though a little mucky, I returned to my vehicle.  A chair, a beer, and my guitar were my only companions for several hours before Will Robinson showed up.

Will and I chose to camp about 200 yards apart.  This was partly to occupy in the only two campsites in the immediate area, assuring that we would be the only campers there that night (Bigfooting when others are near can be rude).  Another reason we wanted to do this was to do knocks and calls back and forth from different locations, which seems to be particularly enticing to sasquatches.

Nearby my camp, and in direct line of site from my vehicle, we placed a “gift pile” of apples and onions.  A thermal imager would be trained on the location and left running all night.

A short while after midnight, I heard a bang, and thought it might have been the sound of a distant car door shutting.  I radioed to Will to verify that he just shut his car door.  He did in fact do so, so I let my adrenaline return to normal levels.  A little while later, I heard the door shut again, and then one more time a few moments later.  I didn’t think much of it until Will radioed to me asking, “Did you hear that?!”

“I heard your car door slam shut,” I replied.

“Yeah, but after that.  Did you hear the knock?”

Apparently, Will turned off the light in his truck’s cab and shut the door.  A few moments later, a loud, clear thump resonated from the woods to his north.  What I thought was a second door slam was actually a loud knock from the forest.

Somebody was home.

A deer captured on a game camera that night.

 

The knock came from the thick woods to Will’s north.  It seemed to be responding to either the sound of the car door shutting, or to the dome light being turned off. Either way, the sasquatch was monitoring Will’s campsite.  I thought it best to not walk up the road quite yet in case my presence would shut down the situation. Being patient, I decided to sit in the dark and listen a while longer.

About twenty or thirty minutes later, another knock came from Will’s north.  This time, it was a double knock.  Multiple knocks always give me pause.  Often (but not always), multiple knocks occur in quantities that match the number of people present.  This could be just a coincidence considering I usually go bigfooting either alone or in pairs, and I usually hear one or two knocks.  Still, in the light of  recent primate research, this sort of coincidence deserves some thought.  They just might be counting us and communicating our numbers to other bigfoots nearby.

After this double knock, Will suggested that I join him.  I readied my mobile thermal imager and took the long dark walk to Will’s camp.  I moved at a snail’s pace both to thoroughly scan my surroundings in hopes of capturing a sasquatch on video, as well as to not crash Will’s party, so to speak.  After a ten minute stroll, I came upon Will sitting on his tailgate scanning the woods with his thermal imager.

We engaged in a whispered conversation detailing our experiences and assumptions of the previous knocking events.  Directions from where the sounds came from were indicated without pointing into the woods (it is my opinion based on an experience I had several years ago that sasquatches don’t like to be pointed at).  Before too long, another loud and clear knock rang from the dark woods to the north.  Was this a signal that another human (me) had joined the first?  Was there another sasquatch listening nearby to interpret these signals, whatever they might mean?

Giddy like school children, we strained our ears to hear whatever the forest might tell us about the ape man (or is it man ape?) we suspected was nearby.  For quite a while, the forest gave us nothing to go on besides the usual clicks and clacks of the night.  Eventually, we heard the most dubious knock of the night which seemed to come from quite a ways to the west of our location.  I cannot say with much certainty that this was a knock, but it was significantly louder than the other snaps and noises the forest makes.  It was just too distant to tell.

After another long silence, I decided to head back to my camp.  The walk was long and slow as I scanned the meadows and marshes that dotted the roadside.  I returned to my truck and settled down to listen once more.  Shortly thereafter, Will radioed me to tell of another loud, clear knock this time coming from his south.  It seemed that he had been flanked without knowing it.  This knock was to be the last of the night.

Morning brought another onslaught of mosquitoes and warm temperatures.  We walked through the woods and on the roads looking for signs of our nocturnal visitors from the night before.  Finding nothing, we debated about what to do.

By staying one more night, we would run the risk of shutting down any activity.  However, the sasquatches might be a little ticked off that we were there again and come down on us a little heavier than they had before.  We eventually decided to stay one more night instead of moving locations.

The day passed at a leisurely pace since we had nothing in particular to do.  While on a drive, Will saw a large black bear run across the road ahead of his vehicle a few miles from camp.  Later in the afternoon, Will’s brother joined us for the night in his own vehicle.