; Phantoms and Monsters: Pulse of the Paranormal

Sunday, September 10, 2023

Southeast Vermont SASQUATCH Experiences Described by Local Outdoorsman

A southeastern Vermont outdoorsman recounts his various unexplained occurrences of possible Sasquatch activity, including remarkable howling sounds and numerous rock-throwing incidents.

'I live in Vermont and the experiences I had are in a small border town called Vernon in the southeast corner. New Hampshire to the east and Massachusetts to the south. I was taking my 13-year-old nephew hunting. It was his first or second time sitting in a blind alone. I believe the year was 2013.

Anyway, his blind was roughly 200 yards from mine. It was early and very dark and somewhere around 5 a.m. The first light was roughly an hour away. We're walking on a snowmobile trail. My nephew's blind was on our left and up the side of the mountain, about 75 to 100 yards, he left the trail and headed up to his spot. I continued down the trail for a couple hundred yards. My blind was similarly located on the left and up the steep mountainside. As I turned and left the clear trail I heard a very loud and long howl that was not like anything I'd ever heard. I froze in my tracks and listened in complete shock and awe. I felt no fear or even concern. The howl/scream lasted for roughly 10 seconds. It wound up in a crescendo to a high pitch and then a long slow wind down and ended with an incredibly low guttural double grunt. The lung capacity and vocal ability blew my mind.

Nevertheless, I continued to my blind. Once there I moved a few sticks and twigs and settled in. The howl was on a loop in my mind and I was trying to rationalize what I had heard. The topography was like a giant bowl below me. Roughly eight hundred to a thousand yards through the trees were some pasture fields and a gravel pit. Beyond those fields were fields, farms, and houses, then the Connecticut River and New Hampshire behind and another mountain. Any loud noise like a truck exhaust, brake, or car horn could be easily heard, even coming from New Hampshire. I was rationalizing the sound as coming from a bull. As a crow flies the closest pasture was maybe 800 yards straight down the snowmobile trail and that was roughly where the sound seemed to come from.

Roughly 10 minutes had passed and it happened again. It sounded to me like a perfect duplicate. It gave me goosebumps. We stayed most of the day. My nephew had called me on his walkie after the second yell. He was freaked out a bit. I told him not to worry about it, that I was between him and whatever it was. We decided to keep hunting and though we never saw it, a deer, or anything else, we stayed put until lunch.

Fast forward about four years. My father, brother-in-law, and I purchased a 30-acre parcel of land half a mile as the crow flies from where I was hunting that day. That summer I bought a portable sawmill and set it up on it on the new land. I've cut trees and milled the lumber day in and day out. My dog was always with me and loved roaming around or just hanging out.

One day I'd been sawing up some Hemlock boards and noticed the dog was not around. I shut the mill down and started calling to him. I found him hiding under my truck. That surprised me. He had never been afraid before, but from that day on he would never leave the cab of my truck unless I forced him, which I seldom did. Something had scared him. I do not know what.

That same summer I camped up there with a buddy Scott. I was asleep in my tent and was awoken by deep breathing and some low grunting noises. My back was against the side of the tent as I lay there listening. Whatever was outside the tent began rubbing against my back. I was sleeping on a double air mattress so my back was a little over two feet from the ground. My buddy had a young Pitbull named Jersey with him and I thought that she was the culprit. Scott's tent was 20 feet from mine and by chance, he had gotten up to relieve himself. He unzipped the flap so I said something to the effect of, "Hey. Jersey is out here rubbing against my back." Scott replied that Jersey was in his tent and had not been out of it. At that point, I also got up and exited my tent. I never heard anything walk away. It was 4 a.m. and dark. I shot my flashlight around but saw nothing. I concluded that it must have been a black bear and went back to bed.

Then there was the sound of wood hitting wood. It was loud like a shotgun. Scott heard it and we discussed it for a couple minutes, but neither exited our tents. I was awake now just laying in my tent when right at first light a rock was hurled from where the tree knock had occurred. I heard it clearly crashing through the trees and landing with a loud thud, followed by the sound of a rock rolling through the leaf litter. Judging by the sound of the crashing branches and the thud I guess the rock is soccer ball-sized. At this point I rushed out of the tent and scanned the area, seeing nothing at all. I began yelling stupid or whatever was messing with us. I looked all around but was unable to locate the rock.

Since that day I had strange things happen for that entire summer. Every time I drove up the old dirt road there would be a tree or multiple trees laying across the road. No stumps. The trees were not large, always completely dead, and lying directly across the road. It was obvious someone or something was deliberately dragging them there. My father had rocks thrown at him for 20 minutes while hanging posted signs around the perimeter. They were small golf ball-sized and landed all at his feet or a few feet away. He saw a few of them flying in, like being lobbed underhand. He finally yelled at it thinking it was me playing a joke and it stopped. My father's 80 years old I would not throw rocks at him.

I'm not saying this was a Sasquatch. I've not seen one nor do I want to see one. It would likely be a deal breaker for me. I go to my land with no fear. I want to keep it that way. If I saw one I think that would change my perspective and I would not enjoy the land anymore. My brother-in-law spends more time on the land than me. I've told him my experiences and he brushes them off. He's never told me he had any weird experiences and I rarely bring it up. I sold my sawmill two years ago and nothing strange has happened since. Make of that what you will."



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Have you had a sighting or encounter?
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