Five Hunters Vanish After Filming Bigfoot in Oregon Forest

There's a video floating around YouTube right now that every serious researcher needs to carve out time for. It dives deep into one of the most chilling patterns of disappearances ever connected to Sasquatch activity, and it ties directly to footage that might be the clearest facial capture ever recorded in Oregon. The story centers on the Steamboat Creek drainage in the northeastern corner of Douglas County, a stretch of old-growth timber about 40 minutes east of Roseburg. By Oregon standards, it's not exactly the middle of nowhere. Hunters drive in for weekends. Families camp there. But something about that particular drainage has been pulling men off the calendar for over 40 years, and it always happens during the same seven days in mid-October. Back in October 2006, three hunters went into that drainage. Terry Hullbert, his son-in-law Shawn Picket, and Terry's cousin Ed Lamaro. Three nights into their trip, their camera captured what the video describes as the clearest look at a Sasquatch face ever filmed in the state of Oregon. Most people would have packed up and headed straight home after that. These three stayed in camp for three more days. On October 22nd, Forest Service ranger Glenn Fitch walked into their camp and found the fire still warm, the coffee pot still on the grate, three rifles leaning against a log with the safeties on, and three pairs of boots standing laced outside the tent flap. No sign of the men anywhere. This was the fifth time a camp had been found empty in that drainage since 1964. Every single time, it happened during the third week of October. Fitch, a 19-year veteran of that district, radioed it in and then went quiet mid-sentence. He mentioned the birds had all gone silent at once, and something had knocked on a tree above him, evenly spaced, almost gentle. He retired five months later and never spoke about it publicly until his death in 2019. After his funeral, his daughter found six micro cassette tapes in a shoebox behind some old chainsaw parts in his garage. Those tapes, recorded between 2008 and 2009, contain Fitch telling the full story in his own words. The video plays those recordings, and they're worth every minute. What makes this so compelling is the pattern Fitch lays out. In 1989, a solo bow hunter named Dwayne Canella vanished from the same drainage. His compound bow was still strung, his quiver full of unfired arrows, and his boots were laced outside the tent. The sleeping bag had been unzipped from the outside. Fitch measured the footprints leading away from camp, ran the math on the depth differential, and figured out that whatever walked out of that camp had walked in carrying nothing and walked out carrying roughly 175 pounds. Dwayne Canella weighed 176. The knocking phenomenon shows up over and over in these accounts. Dwayne's wife mentioned he heard three knocks on the porch railing the night before he left. The senior ranger who trained Fitch back in 1987 warned him to stay clear of that drainage during the third week of October, and when Fitch laughed about it, something off in the timber clacked two rocks together twice, sharp and deliberate, like punctuation on the end of an unfinished sentence. For anyone who's spent time in the woods around Sasquatch activity, the wood-knocking behavior is well documented. Researchers like the late Dr. Grover Krantz and others have noted that these beings communicate through percussion, and the timing of it, almost conversational, almost responsive, has been reported countless times across the Pacific Northwest. What this video adds is the unsettling suggestion that the knocking might function as something more than communication. It might be a summons. The Umpqua National Forest has long been considered prime Sasquatch territory. The old-growth canopy, the creek drainages, the relative proximity to populated areas that still allows for deep wilderness pockets, all of it fits the profile researchers have mapped out over decades. But the recurring calendar pattern, five camps emptied during the same week of October across more than four decades, is what separates this from typical sighting reports. This isn't a scattered collection of encounters. This is a schedule. The video does something rare with this material. It doesn't sensationalize. It lets Fitch's voice carry the weight, and his measured, careful way of describing what he found in those camps makes the whole thing land harder than any dramatic reenactment could. The math on the footprints, the boots laced neatly outside the tent, the zipper pulled from the outside, these are details that stick. Anyone interested in Sasquatch research, particularly the behavioral patterns and territorial habits documented across the Pacific Northwest, should make time for this one. The footage of the face is reason enough, but the context around it, the disappearances, the ranger's recordings, the pattern that nobody has ever explained, is what makes this video essential viewing. The channel that put this together deserves credit for digging into the Forest Service records and pulling Fitch's tapes into the light. Stories like this tend to get buried in bureaucratic files, and it takes someone willing to do the archival work to bring them back into circulation. Head over to YouTube and search for the channel Weekly Terror to find it. Just make sure you've got the time, because once it starts, it's hard to stop thinking about those three pairs of boots standing outside an empty tent.