Unexplained Phenomena

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Oroblanco

Oroblanco

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Hello again,
I thought I would post what is possibly the strangest Bigfoot story of all here, the man who claimed he was KIDNAPPED by Bigfoot! When I first heard of this report, I almost broke out laughing, and had a negative attitude right up until I actually read the report! :o Here is the story, "from the horse's mouth" as it were, read and decide for yourself:

Albert Ostman's Story

I have always followed logging and construction work. This time I had worked over one year on a construction job, and thought a good vacation was in order. B. C. is famous for lost gold mines. One is supposed to be at the head of Toba Inlet — why not look for this mine and have a vacation at the same time? I took the Union Steamship boat to Lund, B.C. From there I hired an old Indian to take me to the head of Toba Inlet.

This old Indian was a very talkative old gentleman. He told me stories about gold brought out by a white man from this lost mine. This white man was a very heavy drinker — spent his money freely in saloons. But he had no trouble in getting more money. He would be away a few days, then come back with a bag of gold. But one time he went to his mine and never came back. Some people said a Sasquatch had killed him.

At that time I had never heard of Sasquatch. So I asked what kind of an animal he called a Sasquatch. The Indian said, "They have hair all over their bodies, but they are not animals. They are people. Big people living in the mountains. My uncle saw the tracks of one that were two feet long. One old Indian saw one over eight feet tall."

I told the Indian I didn't believe in their old fables about mountain giants. It might have been some thousands of years ago, but not nowadays.

The Indian said: "There may not be many, but they still exist."

We arrived at the head of the inlet about 4:00 p.m. I made camp at the mouth of a creek ...The Indian had supper with me, and I told him to look out for me in about three weeks. I would be camping at the same spot when I came back. ...

Next morning I took my rifle with me, but left my equipment at the camp. I decided to look around for some deer trail to lead me up into the mountains. On the way up the inlet I had seen a pass in the mountain that I wanted to go through, to see what was on the other side.

I spent most of the forenoon looking for a trail but found none, except for a hogback running down to the beach. So I swamped out a trail from there, got back to my camp about 3:00 p.m. that afternoon, and made up my pack to be ready in the morning. My equipment consisted of one 30- 30 Winchester rifle, I had a special home-made prospecting pick, axe on one end, pick on the other. I had a leather case for this pick which fastened to my belt, also my sheath knife.

The storekeeper at Lund was co-operative. He gave me some cans for my sugar, salt and matches to keep them dry. My grub consisted mostly of canned stuff, except for a side of bacon, a bag of beans, four pounds of prunes and six packets of macaroni, cheese, three pounds of pancake flour and six packets of Rye King hard tack, three rolls of snuff, one quart sealer of butter and two one-pound cans of milk. I had two boxes of shells for my rifle.

The storekeeper gave me a biscuit tin. I put a few things in that and cached it under a windfall, so I would have it when I came back here waiting for a boat to bring me out. My sleeping bag I rolled up and tied on top of my pack sack, together with my ground sheet, small frying pan, and one aluminum pot that held about a gallon. As my canned food was used, I would get plenty of empty cans to cook with.

The following morning I had an early breakfast, made up my pack, and started out up this hogback. My pack must have been at least eighty pounds, besides my rifle. After one hour, I had to rest. I kept resting and climbing all that morning. About 2:00 p.m. I came to a flat place below a rock bluff. There was a bunch of willow in one place. I made a wooden spade and started digging for water. About a foot down I got seepings of water, so I decided to camp here for the night, and scout around for the best way to get on from here.

I must have been up to near a thousand feet. There was a most beautiful view over the islands and the Strait — tugboats with log booms, and fishing boats going in all directions. A lovely spot. I spent the following day prospecting round. But no sign of minerals. I found a deer trail leading towards this pass that I had seen on my way up the inlet. The following morning I started out early, while it was cool. It was steep climbing with my heavy pack. After a three hours climb, I was tired and stopped to rest. On the other side of a ravine from where I was resting was a yellow spot below some small trees. I moved over there and started digging for water.

I found a small spring and made a small trough from cedar bark and got a small amount of water, had my lunch and rested here 'till evening ... I made it over the pass late that night.

Now I had downhill and good going, but I was hungry and tired, so I camped at the first bunch of trees I came to ... I was trying to size up the terrain — what direction I would take from here. Towards west would lead to low land and some other inlet, so I decided to go in a northeast direction ... had good going and slight down hill all day. I must have made 10 miles when I came to a small spring and a big black hemlock tree.

This was a lovely campsite, I spent two days here just resting and prospecting. The first night here I shot a small deer...

(Two days later) ... I found an exceptionally good campsite. It was two good-sized cypress trees growing close together and near a rock wall with a nice spring just below these trees. I intended to make this my permanent camp. I cut lots of brush for my bed between these trees. I rigged up a pole from this rock wall to hang my packsack on, and I arranged some flat rocks for my fireplace for cooking. I had a really classy setup... And that is when things began to happen.

I am a heavy sleeper, not much disturbs me after I go to sleep, especially on a good bed like I had now.

Next morning I noticed things had been disturbed during the night. But nothing missing I could see. I roasted my grouse on a stick for breakfast...

That night I filled up the magazine of my rifle. I still had one full box of 20 shells and six shells in my coat pocket. That night I laid my rifle under the edge of my sleeping bag. I thought a porcupine had visited me the night before and porkies like leather, so I put my shoes in the bottom of my sleeping bag.

Next morning my pack sack had been emptied out. Some one had turned the sack upside down. It was still hanging on the pole from the shoulder straps as i had hung it up. Then I noticed one half-pound package of prunes was missing. Also my pancake flour was missing, but my salt bag was not touched. Porkies always look for salt, so I decided it must be something else than porkies. I looked for tracks but found none. I did not think it was a bear, they always tear up and make a mess of things. I kept close to camp these days in case this visitor would come back.

I climbed up on a big rock where I had a good view of the camp, but nothing showed up. I was hoping it would be a porky, so I would get a good porky stew. These visits had now been going on for three nights...

This night it was cloudy and looked like it might rain. I took special notice of how everything was arranged. I closed my pack sack, I did not undress, I only took off my shoes, put them in the bottom of my sleeping bag. I drove my prospecting pick into one of the cypress trees so I could reach it from my bed. I also put the rifle alongside me, inside my sleeping bag. I fully intended to stay awake all night to find out who my visitor was, but I must have fallen asleep.

I was awakened by something picking me up. I was half asleep and at first I did not remember where I was. As I began to get my wits together, I remembered I was on this prospecting trip, and in my sleeping bag.

My first thought was — it must be a snow slide, but there was no snow around my camp. Then it felt like I was tossed on horseback, but I could feel whoever it was, was walking.

I tried to reason out what kind of animal this could be. I tried to get at my sheath knife, and cut my way out, but I was in an almost sitting position, and the knife was under me. I could not get hold of it, but the rifle was in front of me, I had a good hold of that, and had no intention to let go of it. At times I could feel my packsack touching me, and could feel the cans in the sack touching my back.

After what seemed like an hour, I could feel we were going up a steep hill. I could feel myself rise for every step. What was carrying me was breathing hard and sometimes gave a slight cough. Now, I knew this must be one of the mountain Sasquatch giants the Indian told me about.

I was in a very uncomfortable position — unable to move. I was sitting on my feet, and one of the boots in the bottom of the bag was crossways with the hobnail sole up across my foot. It hurt me terribly, but I could not move.

It was very hot inside. It was lucky for me this fellow's hand was not big enough to close up the whole bag when he picked me up — there was a small opening at the top, otherwise I would have choked to death.

Now he was going downhill. I could feel myself touching the ground at times and at one time he dragged me behind him and I could feel he was below me. Then he seemed to get on level ground and was going at a trot for a long time. By this time, I had cramps in my legs, the pain was terrible. I was wishing he would get to his destination soon. I could not stand this type of transportation much longer.

Now he was going uphill again. It did not hurt me so bad. I tried to estimate distance and directions. As near as I could guess we were about three hours travelling. I had no idea when he started as I was asleep when he picked me up.

Finally he stopped and let me down. Then he dropped my packsack, I could hear the cans rattle. Then I heard chatter — some kind of talk I did not understand. The ground was sloping so when he let go of my sleeping bag, I rolled downhill. I got my head out, and got some air. I tried to straighten my legs and crawl out, but my legs were numb.

It was still dark, I could not see what my captors looked like. I tried to massage my legs to get some life in them, and get my shoes on. I could hear now it was at least four of them, they were standing around me, and continuously chattering. I had never heard of Sasquatch before the Indian told me about them. But I knew I was right among them.

But how to get away from them, that was another question? I got to see the outline of them now, as it began to get lighter, though the sky was cloudy, and it looked like rain, in fact there was a slight sprinkle.

I now had circulation in my legs, but my left foot was very sore on top where it had been resting on my hobnail boots. I got my boots out from the sleeping bag and tried to stand up. I found that I was wobbly on my feet, but I had a good hold of my rifle.

I asked, "What you fellows want with me?" Only some more chatter.

It was getting lighter now, and I could see them quite clearly. I could make out forms of four people. Two big and two little ones. They were all covered with hair and no clothes on at all.

I could now make out mountains all around me. I looked at my watch. It was 4:25 a.m. It was getting lighter now and I could see the people clearly.

They look like a family, old man, old lady and two young ones, a boy and a girl. The boy and the girl seem to be scared of me. The old lady did not seem too pleased about what the old man dragged home. But the old man was waving his arms and telling them all what he had in mind. They all left me then.

I had my compass and my prospecting glass on strings around my neck. The compass in my lefthand shirt pocket and my glass in my right hand pocket. 1 tried to reason our location, and where I was. I could see now that I was in a small valley or basin about eight or ten acres, surrounded by high mountains, on the southeast side there was a V-shaped opening about eight feet wide at the bottom and about twenty feet high at the highest point — that must be the way I came in. But how will I get out? The old man was now sitting near this opening.

I moved my belongings up close to the west wall. There were two small cypress trees there, and this will do for a shelter for the time being. Until I find out what these people want with me, and how to get away from here. I emptied out my packsack to see what I had left in the line of food. All my canned meat and vegetables were intact and I had one can of coffee. Also three small cans of milk — two packages of Rye King hard tack and my butter sealer half full of butter. But my prunes and macaroni were missing. Also my full box of shells for my rifle. I had my sheath knife but my prospecting pick was missing and my can of matches. I only had my safety box full and that held only about a dozen matches. That did not worry me — I can always start a fire with my prospecting glass when the sun is shining, if I got dry wood. I wanted hot coffee, but I had no wood, also nothing around here that looked like wood. I had a good look over the valley from where I was — but the boy and girl were always watching me from behind some juniper bush. I decided there must be some water around here. The ground was leaning towards the opening in the wall. There must be water at the upper end of this valley, there is green grass and moss along the bottom.

All my utensils were left behind. I opened my coffee tin and emptied the coffee in a dishtowel and tied it with the metal strip from the can. I took my rifle and the can and went looking for water. Right at the head under a cliff there was a lovely spring that disappeared underground. I got a drink, and a full can of water. When I got back the young boy was looking over my belongings, but did not touch anything. On my way back I noticed where these people were sleeping. On the east side wall of this valley was a shelf in the mountain side, with overhanging rock, looking something like a big undercut in a big tree about 10 feet deep and 30 feet wide. The floor was covered with lots of dry moss, and they had some kind of blankets woven of narrow strips of cedar bark, packed with dry moss. They looked very practical and warm — with no need of washing.

The first day not much happened. I had to eat my food cold. The young fellow was coming nearer me, and seemed curious about me. My one snuff box was empty, so I relied it toward him. When he saw it coming, he sprang up quick as a cat, and grabbed it. He went over to his sister and showed her. They found out how to open and close it — they spent a long time playing with it — then he trotted over to the old man and showed him. They had a long chatter.

Next morning, I made up my mind to leave this place — if I had to shoot my way out. I could not stay much longer, I had only enough grub to last me till I got back to Toba Inlet. I did not know the direction but I would go down hill and I would come out near civilization some place. I rolled up my sleeping bag, put that inside my pack sack — packed the few cans I had — swung the sack on my back, injected the shell in the barrel of my rifle and started for the opening in the wall. The old man got up, held up his hands as though he would push me back.

I pointed to the opening. I wanted to go out. But he stood there pushing towards me — and said something that sounded like "Soka, soka." I backed up to about sixty feet. I did not want to be too close, I thought, if I had to shoot my way out. A 30-30 might not have much effect on this fellow, it might make him mad. I only had six shells so I decided to wait. There must be a better way than killing him, in order to get out from here. I went back to my campsite to figure out some other way to get out.

I could make friends with the young fellow or the girl, they might help me. If I only could talk to them. Then I thought of a fellow who saved himself from a mad bull by blinding him with snuff in his eyes. But how will I get near enough to this fellow to put snuff in his eyes? So I decided next time I give the young fellow my snuff box to leave a few grains of snuff in it. He might give the old man a taste of it.

But the question is, in what direction will I go, if I should get out? I must have been near 25 miles northeast of Toba Inlet when I was kidnapped. This fellow must have travelled at least 25 miles in the three hours he carried me. If he went west we would be near salt water — same thing if he went south — therefore he must have gone northeast. If I then keep going south and over two mountains, I must hit salt water someplace between Lund and Vancouver.
Albert Ostman talking to John Green

Albert Ostman talking to John Green

The following day I did not see the old lady till about 4:00 p.m. She came home with her arms full of grass and twigs and of all kinds of spruce and hemlock as well as some kind of nuts that grow in the ground. I have seen lots of them on Vancouver Island. The young fellow went up the mountain to the east every day, he could climb better than a mountain goat. He picked some kind of grass with long sweet roots. He gave me some one day — they tasted very sweet. I gave him another snuff box with about a teaspoon of snuff in it. He tasted it, then went to the old man — he licked it with his tongue. They had a long chat. I made a dipper from a milk can. I made many dippers — you can use them for pots too — you cut two slits near the top of any can — then cut a limb from any small tree — cut down back of the limb down the stem of the tree — then taper the part you cut from the stem. Then cut a hole in the tapered part, slide the tapered part in the slit you have made in the can, and you have a good handle on your can. I threw one over to the young fellow, that was playing near my camp, he picked it up and looked at it then he went to the old man and showed it to him. They had a long chatter. Then he came to me, pointed at the dipper then at his sister. I could see that he wanted one for her too. I had other peas and carrots, so I made one for his sister. He was standing only eight feet away from me. When I had made the dipper, I dipped it in water and drank from it, he was very pleased, almost smiled at me. Then I took a chew of snuff, smacked my lips, said that's good.

The young fellow pointed to the old man, said something that sounded like "Ook." I got the idea that the old man liked snuff, and the young fellow wanted a box for the old man. I shook my head. I motioned with my hands for the old man to come to me. I do not think the young fellow understood what I meant. He went to his sister and gave her the dipper I made for her. They did not come near me again that day. I had now been here six days, but I was sure I was making progress. If only I could get the old man to come over to me, get him to eat a full box of snuff that would kill him for sure, and that way kill himself, I wouldn't be guilty of murder.

The old lady was a meek old thing. The young fellow was by this time quite friendly. The girl would not hurt anybody. Her chest was flat like a boy's — no development like young ladies. I am sure if I could get the old man out of the way I could easily have brought this girl out with me to civilization. But what good would that have been? I would have to keep her in a cage for public display. I don't think we have any right to force our way of life on other people, and I don't think they would like it. (The noise and racket in a modern city they would not like any more than I do.)

The young fellow might have been between 11-18 years old and about seven feet tall and might weight about 300 lbs. His chest would be 50-55 inches, his waist about 36-38 inches. He had wide jaws, narrow forehead, that slanted upward round at the back about four or five inches higher than the forehead. The hair on their heads was about six inches long. The hair on the rest of their body was short and thick in places. The women's hair on the forehead had an upward turn like some women have — they call it bangs, among women's hair-do's. Nowadays the old lady could have been anything between 40-70 years old. She was over seven feet tall. She would be about 500-600 pounds.

She had very wide hips, and a goose-like walk. She was not built for beauty or speed. Some of those lovable brassieres and uplifts would have been a great improvement on her looks and her figure. The man's eyeteeth were longer than the rest of the teeth, but not long enough to be called tusks. The old man must have been near eight feet tall. Big barrel chest and big hump on his back — powerful shoulders, his biceps on upper arm were enormous and tapered down to his elbows. His forearms were longer than common people have, but well proportioned. His hands were wide, the palm was long and broad, and hollow like a scoop. His fingers were short in proportion to the rest of his hand. His fingernails were like chisels. The only place they had no hair was inside their hands and the soles of their feet and upper part of the nose and eyelids. I never did see their ears, they were covered with hair hanging over them.

If the old man were to wear a collar it would have to be at least 30 inches. I have no idea what size shoes they would need. I was watching the young fellow's foot one day when he was sitting down. The soles of his feet seemed to be padded like a dog's foot, and the big toe was longer than the rest and very strong. In mountain climbing all he needed was footing for his big toe. They were very agile. To sit down they turned their knees out and came straight down. To rise they came straight up without help of hands or arms. I don't think this valley was their permanent home. I think they move from place to place, as food is available in different localities. They might eat meat, but I never saw them eat meat, or do any cooking.

I think this was probably a stopover place and the plants with sweet roots on the mountain side might have been in season this time of the year. They seem to be most interested in them. The roots have a very sweet and satisfying taste. They always seem to do everything for a reason, wasted no time on anything they did not need. When they were not looking for food, the old man and the old lady were resting, but the boy and the girl were always climbing something or some other exercise. A favorite position was to take hold of his feet with his hands and balance on his rump, then bounce forward. The idea seems to be to see how far he could go without his feet or hands touching the ground. Sometimes he made 20 feet.

But what do they want with me? They must understand I cannot stay here indefinitely. I will soon have to make a break for freedom. Not that I was mistreated in any way. One consolation was that the old man was coming closer each day, and was very interested in my snuff. Watching me when I take a pinch of snuff. He seems to think it useless to only put it inside my lips. One morning after I had my breakfast both the old man and the boy came and sat down only ten feet away from me. This morning I made coffee. I had saved up all dry branches I found and I had some dry moss and I used all the labels from cans to start a fire.

I got my coffee pot boiling and it was strong coffee too, and the aroma from boiling coffee was what brought them over. I was sitting eating hard tack with plenty of butter on, and sipping coffee. And it sure tasted good. I was smacking my lips pretending it was better than it really was. I set the can down that was about half full. I intended to warm it up later. I pulled out a full box of snuff, took a big chew. Before I had time to close the box the old man reached for it. I was afraid he would waste it, and only had two more boxes. So I held on to the box intending him to take a pinch like I had just done. Instead he grabbed the box and emptied it in his mouth. Swallowed it in one gulp. Then he licked the box inside with his tongue.

After a few minutes his eyes began to roll over in his head, he was looking straight up. I could see he was sick. Then he grabbed my coffee can that was quite cold by this time, he emptied that in his mouth, grounds and all. That did no good. He stuck his head between his legs and rolled forwards a few times away from me. Then he began to squeal like a stuck pig. I grabbed my rifle. I said to myself, "This is it. If he comes for me I will shoot him plumb between his eyes." But he started for the spring, he wanted water. I packed my sleeping bag in my pack sack with the few cans I had left. The young fellow ran over to his mother. Then she began to squeal. I started for the opening in the wall — and I just made it. The old lady was right behind me. I fired one shot at the rock over her head.

I guess she had never seen a rifle fired before. She turned and ran inside the wall. I injected another shell in the barrel of my rifle and started downhill, looking back over my shoulder every so often to see if they were coming. I was in a canyon, and good travelling and I made fast time. Must have made three miles in some world record time. I came to a turn in the canyon and I had the sun on my left, that meant I was going south, and the canyon turned west. I decided to climb the ridge ahead of me. I knew that I must have two mountain ridges between me and salt water and by climbing this ridge I would have a good view of this canyon, so I could see if the Sasquatch were coming after me. I had a light pack and was making good time up this hill. I stopped soon after to look back to where I came from, but nobody followed me. As I came over the ridge I could see Mt. Baker, then I knew I was going in the right direction.

I was hungry and tired. I opened my packsack to see what I had to eat. I decided to rest here for a while. I had a good view of the mountain side, and if the old man was coming I had the advantage because I was up above him. To get me he would have to come up a steep hill. And that might not be so easy after stopping a few 30-30 bullets. I had made up my mind this was my last chance, and this would be a fight to the finish... I rested here for two hours. It was 3:00 p.m. when I started down the mountain side. It was nice going, not too steep and not too much underbrush.

When I got near the bottom, I shot a big blue grouse. She was sitting on a windfall, looking right at me, only a hundred feet away. I shot her neck right off.

I made it down the creek at the bottom of this canyon. I felt I was safe now. I made a fire between two big boulders, roasted the grouse. Next morning when I woke up, I was feeling terrible. My feet were sore from dirty socks. My legs were sore, my stomach was upset from that grouse that I ate the night before. I was not too sure I was going to make it up that mountain. I finally made the top, but it took me six hours to get there. It was cloudy, visibility about a mile.

I knew I had to go down hill. After about two hours I got down to the heavy timber and sat down to rest. I could hear a motor running hard at times, then stop. I listened to this for a while and decided the sound was from a gas donkey. Someone was logging in the neighborhood.

I told them I was a prospector and was lost ... I did not like to tell them I had been kidnapped by a Sasquatch, as if I had told them, they would probably have said, he is crazy too.

The following day I went down from this camp on Salmon Arm Branch of Sechelt Inlet. From there I got the Union Boat back to Vancouver. That was my last prospecting trip, and my only experience with what is known as Sasquatches. I know that in 1924 there were four Sasquatches living, it might be only two now. The old man and the old lady might be dead by this time.

From: Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us by John Green


So are you now convinced Al Ostman was a teller of tall tales, or just maybe he did experience a very strange and frightening encounter? I would appreciate your opinions.

Oroblanco

"Who ever said that the dead do not come back to life has never been around here at quitting time." --anon
 

goldencoin

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jeff of pa

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goldencoin said:
I have a milion of these stories, so if you want i can make more threads.



HH
-GC

Please, Nothing Personal, but no more threads on this.
There are already Several to add to ;)
 

JT

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So are you now convinced Al Ostman was a teller of tall tales, or just maybe he did experience a very strange and frightening encounter? I would appreciate your opinions.

Nope...his story sounded totally plausible until he got to the point about being picked up, carried and dragged in his sleeping bag, along with his 80 lb backpack and his rifle, at an average speed of over 8 miles an hour, then camping amidst the great creatures for at least six days, while he plotted his escape...

Really, please tell me you can't seriously believe this.. :D
 

OP
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Oroblanco

Oroblanco

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Hello JT,
Well no I can't say that I believe it lock, stock, and barrel, in fact I totally dis-believed it when I heard about it and read what others had to say about the story, but had not read the report my self. After I read it, and compared it with some of the little details found in other eyewitness reports, as well as ancient Amerindian myths, then I had to pull it OUT of the "utter BS" bin and put it in the "maybe" bin. Why am I NOT willing to buy his whole story? If Ostman had several days living among a family, he must have known that his story would not be believed so it seems he could have tried to obtain at least some HAIR from one of the Bigfoot to provide at least some kind of evidence to back it up, or have made mental note of the site so he could lead others back there. Some of the points in his story though have a "ring" to them that does not sound dull, like the Bigfoot not using fire, of uttering some kind of speech (he calls chattering) of a level of curiosity etc.

Then too since Ostman was in fact a gold prospector, and we all KNOW what gold prospectors are capable of ;D so perhaps his story would be more believable if he had not mentioned that point. ::) Also, if his tale of being "kidnapped" by a Bigfoot were the ONLY such report, it would be really easy to toss it - however this is not the only incident we have on record! Here is one (and a comparison to Amerindian myth) of the other reported kidnappings, and yep ALL of them predate Roger Patterson and Ray Wallace with the carved wooden feet:

The report of Muchalat Harry, an Amerindian trapper described as "fearless" up until his incident (no gold prospector, so don't have to have any bias on that point) note the many similarities of his report to that of Ostman

http://www.bigfootencounters.com/classics/muchalat.htm

The diary entry of Elkanah Walker, who worked among the Spokane Amerindians of Washington state, note similarities of the Amerindian myth to the actual reports

http://www.bigfootencounters.com/classics/walker.htm

As to whether one should be killed to "prove" they exist, here is an affadavit of an incident which occurred in 1955,

http://www.bigfootencounters.com/classics/roe.htm

Note these statements by Roe,

The thought came to me that if I shot it, I would possibly have a specimen of great interest to scientists the world over.....I levelled my rifle. The creature was still walking rapidly away, again turning its head to look in my direction. I lowered the rifle. Although I have called the creature "it", I felt now that it was a human being and I knew I would never forgive myself if I killed it.

Now JT you have already posted your view that the entire Bigfoot/Sasquatch phenomenon is, in colorful terms, "...all hooey" so I do not expect that anything posted in these threads can ever sway your opinion so have to assume you are reading and posting out of curiosity and/or amusement. This thread however was created to invite our members to share their own personal experiences (those eyewitness reports that are dismissed out of hand by the skeptics) andthe reports of their friends and relatives, not really for an open debate as to whether these reports are "all hooey" or gospel - there are already at least two threads for that purpose. Seeing posts attacking the veracity of the word of our members is likely to discourage others from sharing their own experiences, so while the skeptics are welcome to read the posts here, I ask that you refrain from attacking the posts of our members. The report I posted of the "kidnapping" is not a personal experience, I only posted it here to show that there are more un-believable tales out there and don't really expect any of our members to have experienced such an incident. Anyway thank you for posting, you obviously have an interest in the subject (for what reasons I can only surmise as amusement or ???) but please lets keep the debate on the two threads dedicated to debating the reality? Thank you in advance,

One last question JT - would you be willing to post your strangest experience here? I would appreciate your sharing it, and if you have been out in the wilds enough it is a sure bet that you have experienced at least some strange things.

Thank you in advance, and I hope you all have a great day! ;D
your friend,
Roy ~ Oroblanco
 

JT

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Actually, believe it or not, I do have a deep interest in Bigfoot, UFO's, Nessie and all matters of things undiscovered/unproven. I think debate is healthy, so I tend to play Devil's Advocate.

There are way too many urban legends that are accepted as gospel by people that don't dig in and research them. These threads have been a perfect example...someone triumphantly posts a story about a 49 ft, 980 lb record sized snake..people agree with him...so someone has to show the proof to debunk it.

Same deal with a poster excitedly relaying the info that a giant bird picked up a 70 or 75 lb kid, and was flying away with him in his clutches...until the kid got loose on the roof of the house. Never mind the fact that it's anatomically impossible for a bird that size to do that, but it never happened. Again, if someone doesn't play skeptic, things like this get accepted as the truth.

If you look cynically at every report that stretches credibility, the vast majority of them can be dismissed pretty quickly..either because it doesn't make sense, the facts don't fit, or there conveniently isn't any proof. And if you do any research, eyewitness testimony is so unreliable, it's better NOT to have it.

It's not hard to dismiss the vast majority of reports of fantastic creatures...but you can't always dismiss 100% of them. There's usually a few reports that have some credibility, and those are the ones that need to be looked at with a critical eye.

The Ostman story is one that stretches credibility past the breaking point...but I'm going to read your other links when I have the chance to concentrate on them. Even a story that sounds totally unbelievable may have elements to it that could be a piece of the puzzle.

I'm not convinced Bigfoot exists...yet. But I've also had paranormal experiences that would make one think ghosts were real...I'm not convinced 100% that what I experienced was ghostly, because I don't know what else could have caused it. But I'm still researching that, too...see, I'm not a bad guy....I'm just always looking for the facts.
 

K

Kentucky Kache

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JT said:
Same deal with a poster excitedly relaying the info that a giant bird picked up a 70 or 75 lb kid, and was flying away with him in his clutches...until the kid got loose on the roof of the house. Never mind the fact that it's anatomically impossible for a bird that size to do that, but it never happened. Again, if someone doesn't play skeptic, things like this get accepted as the truth.
An Eagle can pick up a mountain lion. I would guess a mountain lion would
weigh more than 70-75 lbs. Also, an Eagle can have a wing span of 14 feet,
or more. I'm not saying the story is true, but, I wouldn't say anatomically impossible.
 

coolcash2004

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I love these stories!

But, guess what?

I was going to bike ride to the cemetary after school today to check the dates on the stones. But, when i got home, the skiy darkens and it starts pooring rain. I guess i never made it there today. Maybe another day, soon i hope. Its odd though, im sure the storm was just coincidence, but you can never be to sure. Im heading to that graveyard eventually to check it out again! Maybe later this fall i will camp out just outside the rusted wrought iron fence. Keep my video camera, flaashlight, cookies, and fantasy/fiction books nearby. Who knows, if i do spend the night in a month or so i could get a nice sighting! I sure hope i at least get the chance and dont freak out. Thanks again for this thread and the thoughtful replies Oroblanco!

-CC
 

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Oroblanco

Oroblanco

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Hello again,
While I do not wish to debate the veracity of eyewitness reports here, which will only serve to discourage our members from sharing their experiences with us here, JT has given the example of the reports of what are popularly termed "Thunderbirds" and a particular incident in which a young boy was reported as having been attacked and lifted several feet off the ground by a giant bird, only being saved by the intervention of his mother. I am not willing to call the boy and his mother "liars" or say they are making it all up. Why? (Perhaps because I have been out in the sun too much? ;)) Well you see, there IS some basis behind tales of "Thunderbirds" which seems to point to a real animal, birds of gigantic size that soared over the Americas and even science admits this was as recent as the last Ice Age!

One of these giant bird species is the Argentinian Teratorn (argentavis magnificens) which had a wingspan of TWENTY FIVE FEET! This is as large as some of our Ultralight aircraft!!! These birds would have been truly terrifying to have witnessed, and are believed (by science) to have been capable of lifting a small boy of under 100 pounds without too much difficulty! Reported sightings of "Thunderbirds" continue to our own day! There have been a handful of photos taken and one short bit of film shot (birds which might have been 'Thunderbirds' but some have identified as smaller species) and again we have NUMEROUS Amerindian myths and legends of these giant, terryifying birds. (I believe the Discovery or Science channel had an hour special program on these mysterious flying nightmares - anyone know if this is available to buy or will run again in the future?)

To tie this in with the purpose of this thread, that of sharing our own personal experiences and of close friends and relatives, I will relate my own personal incident which took place a few years ago.
_________________________________________________

I was at that time living in rural NE PA, and our home had a deck on the back side. The day was late summer, one of those hazy, humid days so common to Appalachian summers with frequent thunderstorms. The time was just about sunset. I stepped out onto the deck to see where our dogs were and get some fresh air, and movement off to my left caught my eye. I turned to look and saw the most astonishing sight I have ever seen - a pair of the biggest "birds" I ever saw, were in the act of alighting in the upper branches of a huge Pine tree! My jaw dropped and must have nearly hit the deck. I watched them for about two seconds as they settled in on those biggest branches of the huge tree, then dashed back into the house to get a camera - for surely, NO ONE would EVER believe what I was seeing! My wife and older brother were in the living room and asked what was wrong that I was scrambling through the house, and I sputtered that there was some kind of "Dino-birds" out there in a huge tree in the neighbor's yard, and they scrambled out the door to look; my brother was first out the door and managed to just catch sight of the birds as they were quickly winging away to the south, and I could NOT find the danged camera, and missed my chance to document a sighting of not one but a pair of giant birds. By measuring the span of those big branches they had landed on, it was possible to get a good estimate of their wingspan, which had to be more than twelve feet! Now a condor's wingspan only reaches nine and a half feet, and does not resemble that pair of strange birds, with wings that looked strangely "segmented". So feel free to call me a "liar" if you like, but I know what I witnessed with my own eyes, and could not even believe it when I was looking at them. And for those who would hint that I must have been imbibing some sort of alcoholic beverage or of smoking some type of herb, I will state for the record that I do not drink alcohol and have not for years, my doctor forbid the alcohol as incompatible with the medicines I take, and I do smoke, but only tobacco not some type of rope weed!
_________________________________________________
There are at least two photos of what seemed to be dead specimens of living, flying dinosaurs as well! One that I have SEEN but cannot find today was taken in Arizona in the 19th century, showing six men standing with arms outstretched, which allowed an estimate of the wingspan of the dead creature - it had to be nearly 36 feet! The creature had been shot by a pair of cowboys, (I believe the account stated the flying dino had been attacking newly born calves) and they said the skin was "leathery" and not feathered. Here is a second photo, not the one I am referring to but similar and of course the skeptics will dismiss it as "fake" but COULD be real:

Pteradactyl3.jpg


(from:

http://www.burlingtonnews.net/thunderbird.html
this report NOT from AZ though.)

Now I do not wish to debate the veracity of Thunderbird here, but if you care to I will be happy to don the Tinfoil Hat and try to argue the case in favor of their existence (however feeble my attempts) on either of those other threads dedicated to the debate, such as

http://forum.treasurenet.com/index.php/topic,44582.0.html

I apologize for having concluded that you JT are among those skeptics who refuse to even look at the case for these unexplained phenomena before they "pooh-pooh" and ridicule the believers as well as eyewitnesses as liars, fools, hoaxers and worse. I had only seen a handful of your posts on these controversial subjects, and yes it IS good practice to keep at least one foot on the ground and take all reports with that proverbial "dose of salt" - but it is relatively easy to filter out the most far-fetched reports and many of the cases of misidentifications, as well as many of the flat out lies for they rarely have the "ring of truth" and usually include some really fantastic details like "morphing" into lizard-men and similar. Now am I willing to call that person who reported seeing "lizard men" who trans-morphed into other creatures, vanished in thin air etc a LIAR, well not directly, but even the witness has to admit the tale has the hallmarks of the tall tale. A great story for telling round the campfire, no dispute - however even though we do know of real animals (insects) that trans-morph into very different animals (like butterflies) the process takes weeks and is extremely slow, hardly something that you would be able to witness in a matter of seconds or minutes or even hours for that matter and we are talking about animals the size of bugs, literally. So "trans-morphing" is NOT actually outside the actual abilities of some real animals, but only in the insect world and at a pace near the speed of glaciers crawling across the land. Even "vanishing into thin air" is within the abilities of known animal species, that is not literally to "vanish" but to change their skin colors and patterns to match the background foliage, like chameleons and some fish species for instance. However no known animal species is able to literally "disappear".

Thank you, I hope that you (JT) will decide to share your own personal strange experiences, and do not need to worry that someone here (in THIS thread anyway ;)) is going to start calling you less-than-honest. I find the personal experiences to be most interesting and treasure hunters seem to make pretty good witnesses - with good attention to detail. It has been pointed out in those other threads, that us Treasure Hunters (whether a trekker through the Tall Tules or the armchair adventurer type) have a common trait of being "seekers of truth" and are frequently attracted to the mysteries of the world, especially the un-solved types. So our interest in such things as Bigfoot and hauntings, strange lights in the skies etc are a natural attraction for us - and it is only through the efforts of those who are willing to risk ridicule and actually search for the truth will we ever be able to learn the truth.

I hope you all have a great day, and I look forward to reading more of your personal experiences! ;D

your friend, (the fellow with the Tinfoil Hat shaped like a Conquistador's helmet)
Roy A. Decker ~ Oroblanco

PS CC - let us know how you make out, I don't consider myself a coward but you could not get ME to spend a night in a spot like that, at least not without substantial pay and being allowed to keep my old reliable pistol with me, perhaps a vicious dog too! Yep call me "chicken" if you like, I prefer to call this healthy caution! :D Thanks for the kind words too. ;D

"There are stranger things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are found in your philosophies." --from Hamlet
 

JT

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"An eagle can pick up a mountain lion. I would guess a mountain lion would weigh more than 70-75 lbs. Also, an eagle can have a wingspan of 14 feet, or more. I'm not saying the story is true, but I wouldn't say anatomically impossible."

Where do you get these opinions? Read this...
Most people unfamiliar with eagles are astonished when they
> >learn that an eagle may weigh eight to fourteen pounds on the average
> >and that maximum wing span is eight feet. But the bulk of an eagle
> >is its feathers, and its bones are hollow and therefore much lighter
> >than mammalian bones. Even military aircraft are incapable of
> lifting
> >more than their own weight, so it is difficult to understand how
> >people could think that an eagle could carry off another organism
> >that was larger than itself...... Walker (1940)... conducted tests on
> >the lifting capacity of a golden eagle. Since golden and bald eagles
> >are similar in size and weight, they felt that both should have
> >similar weight-lifting capacities. They launched their eagle from a
> >fifteen-foot high platform when a wind of ten mph was blowing. They
> >put the eagle through six flights with a twenty-minute rest between
> >each flight..... When the eagle was carrying two one-pound weights
> >attached to its legs, it flew one hundred and sixty-two yards easily.
> > When the weights totaled four pounds, it flew 64 and 58 yards, but
> >the flight was strained. Carrying eight pounds, it flapped its wings
> >wildly and managed to fly only ten and fourteen yards. Twenty
> >minutes after this final test, the eagle was flown unweighted and
> >soared 460 and 620 yards before it was called down to the glove."
> >

I always love it when people post things that are easily debunked. There's no way...no way...the bird could have got him off of the ground, much less to the roof of his house. It's anatomically impossible.
 

coolcash2004

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"SOMETIMES IN LIFE, YOU CANT JUST LOOK AT THE FACTS. YOU NEED TO THINK OF THE IMPOSSIBLE AS WELL."

QUOTE: Quote by coolcash2004 on september 19, 2006.

The debate about the bird, did the bird have to be able to lift the man off the ground? Just because we THINK its impossible, doesnt mean it IS. Sure, it would be impossible for any creature we know off, but this is something new, and different. Past ideas on old things cant always be used to prove they hold true on new discoveries. I just LOVE these debates.

Halloween is comming up by the way. Ever read up on some of the old halloween suspicions? I suggest it, there are plenty of sites.

Ok, im not quite as brave as you think, i would of course also bring along my dog, and my airsoft gun (im only 15 years old). Plus i know how to speak the language in Eragon. If you havent read Eragon i think everyone here should, trust me you will like it.

What would you pay me to spend the night there at halloween night? And take pictures as proof?

Lol...

-CC
 

K

Kentucky Kache

Guest
JT said:
I always love it when people post things that are easily debunked.
They use to show it on a TV program, probably "Wild Kingdom", but an Eagle
picked up a mountain lion and dropped it off a mountain. It didn't fly way up
in the air with it, but it lifted it. Debunk all you want, but this was on film and
it wasn't anything to do with a legend or a hoax.
 

ClonedSIM

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coolcash2004 said:
Ok, im not quite as brave as you think, i would of course also bring along my dog, and my airsoft gun (im only 15 years old). Plus i know how to speak the language in Eragon. If you havent read Eragon i think everyone here should, trust me you will like it.

I've been keeping an eye on this thread, and I have to say this confuses the crap out of me. Eragon? And this would help you how? ???
 

coolcash2004

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You wouldnt understand. Have you read it? And you better not say yes. Because reading it includes understanding it. And after you read it slowely come back to me and tell me you dont know how knowing the language helps. Sorry, its my favorite book.

-CC
 

ClonedSIM

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coolcash2004 said:
You wouldnt understand. Have you read it? And you better not say yes. Because reading it includes understanding it. And after you read it slowely come back to me and tell me you dont know how knowing the language helps. Sorry, its my favorite book.

-CC

Okay, dude. I'm sure some Klingon will come in handy, too. ::)
 

RatRacer

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I figured the casino lady probably had developed an accurate eye for those buckets. It was still a pretty neat... trick? Talent? Show?
Thanks, everyone, this post is pretty interesting!
 

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Oroblanco

Oroblanco

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Hello again,
JT I offered to debate the big birds over on the threads dedicated to debate. Now where do you get the idea that I would not know an eagle when I see one? I have seen hundreds and hundreds of eagles, (most in Alaska, but also in other states I have lived in over the years including Wyoming, CA, AZ etc) with large wingspans, not ONE had a wingspan over ten feet. In fact I believe the maximum wingspan for the largest North American eagles is just over seven feet. Besides this point, eagles are not real common in PA and do not have wings that look "segmented" at all - the closest bird I could find is a cormorant, which has segmented- looking wings but again, never has a wingspan of twelve feet and is not known in NE PA.

Now as to whether a large bird could lift a boy of 75 pounds, let me point out that the species most likely to be the source of the Thunderbird reports is the Argentinian Teratorn, which weighed over 170 pounds. A 75 pound boy would not even be one half of its own body weight. There are a number of sites on the internet on this very real bird, here is one with some info:

http://www.angelfire.com/indie/anna_jones1/evidence.html

I await your posting of the strangest incident you personally ever experienced, JT. I look forward to it.
your friend,
Oroblanco

POST SCRIPT I have found the actual report of the boy supposedly grabbed by a giant bird, his weight was 65 pounds, not 75. Here is a photo showing what the size of the Teratorn would be beside a grown man for perspective:

teratorn007.jpg

:o

(from http://www.angelfire.com/electronic/bodhidharma/giantbirds3.html )

Also ran across a fairly recent sighting report from Alaska (2002) which is online at:
http://sped2work.tripod.com/alaskabird0.html
 

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Oroblanco

Oroblanco

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Hello everyone,
I think I misread JT's post, and mis-interpreted what he meant. My answer was only intended to explain that I was quite familiar with eagles; in SE Alaska you can literally see a thousand a day or more when the salmon runs are in. It is quite a sight, we have photos but they are slides so cannot post them here.

Sounds almost like a dream-warning, seeing your 'enemy' with arms lost in an accident. There have been cases of prophetic dreams, such as plane crashes etc and science does not have an explanation of how this could work, yet our own military experimented with remote-viewing, a technique of "seeing" places very distant or even in the past or future, with success greater than should be possible by mathematical odds of chance.

(I have had a few dreams that would be called "pre-cognitive" myself, always something bad.)

I will add an experience here that ought to get a few laughs. Lets title it The Night The Aliens Attacked! :o

When I was fourteen I spent the summer vacation at a friend's farm, working on the farm and living in a camp in a swamp with my best friend and a neighbor boy, also a farm boy. We had a big old wall tent (with plenty of patches) that we soaked with spray-on waterproofing dope that stunk to high heaven and really didn't "waterproof" the tent at all, it leaked like a piece of burlap. We had great fun, got to go fishing and swimming about every day, almost living like "Indians" only having to show up for the farm work (especially haying time) but had plenty of time free. The swamp was quite some distance from the farm house, about a mile and half (or more) but being back in the swamp we could even sneak a cigarette without too much risk of being caught.

The cattle were fenced in pastures not too far distant from the swamp so to be sure that no cattle could get in to our camp, we put up some old barbed wire all the way round the camp except for a small spot where we could enter and exit, about three feet wide. We were pretty sure that no cattle could get in, though it was possible they were fenced in separate fields anyway.

So one fine August day we were fishing at a pond deep in the woods down the mountain and had so much fun and good fishing that we stayed til past dark. No matter, we had flashlights so hiked back up the hill with our catch of bass, looking forward to a dinner of pan-fried fish (in butter of course) and sitting round the campfire telling spooky stories. The walk was quite some distance so we were blabbinb away about all sorts of things, and saw some strange lights in the sky. Half-kidding we said what if they were flying saucers, and laughed about that too. As we neared the camp, we had to hike through the only dry path through the swamp; when we got perhaps fifty yards from the camp my friend shined his flashlight onto the camp; we were stunned to NOT see the old wall tent (which was bleached very white) at all, in fact in the spot where our camp should be, we saw many glowing green-yellow eyes, moving about, and the eyes were much more far apart than a human beings' ought to be! We could even hear the sound of leaves rustling and branches snapping as the "things" with so many eyes were moving! I think my friend yelled out "ALIENS"!!! and our fish were dropped as we ran for our lives back out of the swamp! We kept on running until we got to their old trapping cabin, which was about a half mile away but well out of the swamp. We scrambled inside and barred the door, as we were SURE those aliens must be chasing us! We tried to see up to the farm house, but no lights could be seen. There was an antique shotgun in the cabin, and old break-action single shot hammergun, twelve gauge, stuffed up in the rafters so we lit the kerosene lamps and dug out that old shotgun and hunted for shells. We managed to find two shells in a drawer, which looked so old they might well fail to fire. We decided to take turns staying up through the night, guarding the door with that old scattergun and would be sure to blast any alien that tried to come in!

That was one LONG night, and when daylight finally came we decided to go and check on our camp - see if the aliens were still there. If they were, we could run up to the farm house and get help, we figured, but didn't want to admit what had happened otherwise as no one would believe us. So carting that old shotgun, we gingerly crept our way back to the camp. When we got there, we found that the tent had been flattened, in fact the whole camp was a total wreck! A group of young stock (year old heifers) had gotten out of their pasture in the night, and for some reason decided to file their way into our camp where they trashed everything, crapping all over everything and stomping it into the now-urine soaked ground. So our "aliens" had proven to be a herd of young cows! Needless to say we were forced to move our camp, after spending hours trying to round up the loose heifers and get them back where they belonged, and had to spend more time fixing fence! That was one LONG day, let me tell you! What happened to our fish, dropped in the reaction to seeing a whole pack of "aliens" in our camp? During the night, a raccoon came and took them, leaving us a stringer of fish heads and skeletons! At least he left us the stringer....:D

I hope you got a giggle out of that one!
Oroblanco
 

K

Kentucky Kache

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As soon as you left, the young cows turned back into aliens.
That's how Stephen King would have seen it.
 

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