Posted by: Kirk Sigurdson on May 6th, 2014
What is “Infrasound?”
Infrasound, also known as low-frequency sound (or Ultra Low Frequency Sound “ULF”) is sound that is lower in frequency than 20 Hz (Hertz) or cycles per second, which constitutes the “normal” limit of human hearing.
The human ear becomes less sensitive as any frequency decreases. Thus, for humans to perceive infrasound, the sound pressure must be sufficiently high. The ear is our main organ for sensing infrasound, but at higher intensities it is possible to feel infrasound vibrations in various parts of the body. Stand next to a big woofer at a rock concert, and you’ll catch the basic gist of what I’m talking about.
The study of such sound waves is known as infrasonics, describing sounds beneath 20 Hz down to 0.001 Hz. This frequency range is used to monitor earthquakes, chart rock and petroleum formations below the earth, and also in ballistocardiography and seismocardiography to study the mechanics of the heart. Infrasound is characterized by an ability to cover long distances and get around obstacles with little dissipation.
My Personal Experiences with Bigfoot Infrasound
On one occasion, after some especially nasty and seemingly random blasting that covered an entire hillside, my friend Bjorn and I were treated to a couple of old “MASH-style” helicopters that hovered over the hill next to us at night for over an hour. It was quite annoying as we were trying to cook our food over the campfire just after dusk.
No search lights were used above at all, aside from on us! I can only assume the copters were mostly using FLIR (forward looking infra red) technology for some purpose, which could admittedly have had to do with sasquatches that tend to blast very powerfully and very freely in the area. Military censor technology could have easily picked up huge blasts on that day if they were not military-related due to some sort of experiment and/or testing of new technology.
When you are squatch-blasted out in the middle of nowhere, panic can set in. Yes, sometimes they follow you and continue to blast mercilessly to get you out of their territory. This trail (above illustration) is found in the upper fork of the Molalla River where I have been literally terrorized by infrasound to the point of wondering if I would make it out alive.
Eventually, I learned my lesson. I don’t hike very far away from my Jeep there any longer. I would venture to say that during the four year period when I hiked there often, sasquatches came to recognize me, and reacted by applying extra strong doses of infrasound to discourage me from returning. They knew that I wasn’t merely hiking or recreating: I was studying them, and making quite a bit of progress towards understanding their territorial marking practices, hunting techniques, vocalization patterns, and their use of recon when presented with a human target who was able to roughly approximate their calls well enough to “bring them closer” for a look-see.
In this particular valley, echoes proved to be the key. By bouncing my own natural and amplified “bigfoot calls” off opposite hillsides from where sasquatches tended to come down around dusk from the higher ground (most likely caves), I was able to fool them well enough to get them to come to me.
Over time, they recognized the calls as being a sign that I was in the area, but they came anyway–assumedly with the intent of getting me out of their territory. This dynamic was a far cry from “habitualization.” Rather, it was a form of harassment, but it did provide the opportunity for intereactions with this extremely reclusive species.
The price eventually became too high for me, as the sasquatches showed less and less patience in regard to my antics. Some people might say that I “got what I deserved” insofar as their use of more and more intense infrasound. Despite this fact, I have to admit that they didn’t kill me.
At least I have that to be grateful for. If I had been a sasquatch and they had been humans, the end result probably would have been less amiable, if begrudgingly so. They certainly could have murdered me. I was quite vulnerable, particularly after nightfall. This said, they also seemed to regard me with amusement at times, as well. I was obviously vulnerable and weak to them, and yet I “kept on a-comin.”
Most of the time, when you see a sasquatch, you are meant to see that particular sasquatch. The creatures move with military precision when manipulating a target. They can reconnoiter, flank, present a token decoy, and herd one or more targets just like humans tend to do when hunting game, or apprehending other humans through the use of military and police forces.
When you find yourself being circled by three or four sasquatches, it is quite an experience, particularly when they do not feel overtly threatened by your presence and are more apt to “toy” with you. In such cases, they might throw objects, make audible calls to each other (in lieu of sub-sonic calls below the range of human hearing), snap branches, and/or prod you with the use of infrasound to see how you react. Rock and tree knocking is normally done from father away than during a recon mission.
Native American totem poles and other artwork, such as masks and statuary, could symbolically depict sasquatch defensive and offensive infrasound “blasting,” which is interpreted by most anthropologists as mere whistling.
Could these works of art symbolically represent the way sasquatches wield powerful weapons by emitting ultra low frequencies that help them communicate with each other, hunt wild game like deer and elk, as well as discouraging human contact? I certainly think so.
Read the rest of the article on my website here.
Also see: Do Sasquatches Wield “Sound Cannons?”
Kirk Edward Sigurdson attended New York University, where he earned a Master's degree in English literature. His master's thesis entitled "A Gothic Approach to HP Lovecraft's Sense of Outsideness" was published in Lovecraft Studies Journal. After writing three novels while living in Manhattan's East Village, Sigurdson returned to his native state of Oregon. It wasn’t long before he began work on a fresh new novel that drew upon his knowledge of the sasquatch phenomenon. As research, he ventured dozens of times into sasquatch "hot spots" for overnighters, often with friends who shared some very unique experiences. He also drew upon childhood exposure to sasquatch calls and knocking that occurred during family camping trips to Horseshoe Lake in the Cascades mountains. Kirk Sigurdson is currently a Professor of Writing and English literature at Portland Community College.