Pacific Northwest Conference on Primal People (Sasquatch)
Pacific Northwest Conference
On
Primal People
–Sasquatch--
May 4th 5th and 6th, 2012
e email me at
Twangg1@Yahoo.com
ITS HERE!!!!!
NOW!
You can have a DVD collection of the
Pacific Northwest Conference on Primal People!
Disk 2 of 6 Disk set
Invocation and Opening Thom Cantrall and Arla Williams
——————————- The Nature of Sasquatch Arla Williams
—————————— In Search of Sasquatch Kelly Milner Halls
Disc 2 -
—————————— Sierra Tracks Jaime Avalos (Via Skype)
—————————– Proving Sasquatch Thom Cantrall
Disc 3
—————————– Paradigm Shifts Thom Powell
—————————– Washington Trails Paul Graves
Saturday Evening
Disc 4
—————————- About Patty Bob Gimlin
————————— Keynote Speaker Alex Evans “The Art of Sasquatch”
Sunday, May 6th
Disc 5
—————————- Sierra Sounds Ron Morehead
—————————- Sasquatch Language R. Scott Nelson
Disc 6
—————————- Sasquatch Project Dr. Jeff Meldrum
—————————- The Olympic Project Derek Randles
Closing and Benediction Arla Williams
The Brother-in-Law Book
$2.50 Each
(For every 5 booklets purchased, I’ll refund $1 and will adjust shipping to the actual cost. The difference will be in the package with the booklets.
Light Gray
We have only 2 Medium in the Light Gray left
$20
Darker Gray T-Shirt
$20
Black T-Shirt
$20
Little Guy
A Gathering of Like Minds
By Thom Cantrall
On the 7thof May, 2012, the sun rose at its appointed time into a cloudless sky of pure ether as is its wont at this elevation at this time of year. The trees, pine, spruce and firs turned their green leaves toward the dawn while the tamarack lay idle, awaiting its own rebirth to the spring as God has ordained. The moving waters rippled and sparkled in the crepuscular light of dawn as it has done for more
Lake Elouisa
millennia than man has been around to see it. The single thing different this morning was the people in residence in this northeast Oregon retreat.
The reason for this difference was not just in that there were people in this land but it was more in who these people were… in what they represented and how they revered the Creation and their place in it. These were people who “knew”… There were none here but who had deep and abiding love for the What, the Where and especially for the Why of this special day.
From the lake came the rhythmic beat of the Indian hand drum as it spoke to the spirits who dwelt in this mountain fastness. Then, at once came the haunting chant of the woman, Arla. The airs evoked another time in the mind of the man listening and it caused him to remember another life… a life more primitive than had been this one he was now counting down. His mind could see the smoke rising from
Indian Drum Songs
the central fire and moving unmolested to exit at the top of the tepee. He leaned back against the backboard of his hide seat and listened as the wind carried the tunes to the heavens.
As the sun reached delicately into the shadows and day advanced, the drum held rhythm as the beat changed slightly and the woman’s voice allowed the chant to filter away softly through the trees to be replaced with a known air… the great Willie Nelson authored song done so well by Patsy Cline rose gently from the figure in the trees by the lake… “Crazy… crazy for feeling so lonely…” and it felt so right to be here today.
No sooner had the beautiful lament ended than a call was heard from LT to come forth. While I and Alexa had remained so transfixed by the enchanting music, Linda had found her way up a nearby roadway still covered in the remnant snows of winter past and had discovered… TRACKS! Not just a single track was this, but an entire trackway there in the crusted snow field. Arla, Cam, Alex and I joined her in the quest and began to decipher the story told there. The puzzle was not easily solved as we soon realized we had the remnants of three separate beings travel on this icy path. One set was distinctly human. The boot tracks were discernible and, on occasion, other clues bore witness to this fact. The second set was indeterminate. It appeared to be a genuine, though small set of tracks replicating the image of the remaining set of prints. This second set we believed to be the product of a juvenile member of our Primal People band, but we did not have enough incontrovertible evidence to conclude, unequivocally, that this was the case. We could not entirely eliminate the human element from this trackway due to the highly degraded condition of most of the individual prints that made up the whole.
The final set of prints told an entirely different story, however, as this series of prints was definitely non-human in origin. The toes
A track in the snow... notice the glitter boots...
Human Tracks in the snow
were quite clearly discernible as was a clearly defined mid tarsal break. This trackway was descending a moderate grade and the snow was quite heavily crusted now due to the thaw/freeze cycles found in early spring at this elevation in the mountains. This made a very dangerous walkway for the unwary. Here, short, carefully placed steps were required to preclude the chance of a painful, potentially bone-breaking fall. Even if the trackway were made at a time when the snow was not so crusty as it was this day, and I’m sure this was the case, at that four thousand foot elevation level, any being would be required to shorten his stride and to place his foot most carefully in order to avoid a slipping, ski-like, slide in his footprints.
No such slippage was evident in these tracks. Each individual print on this trackway measured approximately fifteen inches in length and the toes were clearly discernible. The heel was well formed and no sliding was evident in and prints examined in this nearly one hundred fifty yard long trackway. Empirical measurement showed the individual prints to be spaced at a separation ranging from just over forty inches to well over sixty inches with the average being in the range of fifty two to fifty four inches. We examined this trackway over a distance of approximately one hundred twenty five yards. The trackway continued on but the way was becoming too precipitous and icy for me to negotiate.
It should be noted here that different people measure trackways differently. Trackers who work in search and rescue measure a stride from the toe of one print to the heel of the opposite foot. As a forester, my measure was from the heel of the one foot, to the heel of that same foot when it next touched the ground. Other people have different conventions so it is necessary for accuracy that the measuring criteria be defined. To me, a pace is from the heel of the left foot, through the right foot and to the heel of the left foot again, as
My Walking stick is 60" in length and in this pair of prints it exactly reaches from the heel of one to the heel of the next. Notice just below mid stick one of the prints from the 2nd trackway...
described. My pace is exactly sixty inches. I have practiced and trained myself to so pace in order to be able to measure long distances accurately with the need of any kind of physical measuring device, be it tape, chain or other instrument. In this instance, I used my convention for a step, i.e., ½ of a pace, from the heel of one foot to the heel of the opposite foot as the measurable distance.
Linda described her part in the discovery: “In explanation of how it was that I noticed the Bigfoot trail down to the water beside the little glade there where Arla drummed, the ground and sticks were pounded smooth by heavy feet going down to the shore. I recognized these features from other ‘big-boy’ trails with tracks found on a BFRO expedition in northern Minnesota in 2009. I realized it was a trail, so I looked from where it came and followed it up the mountain a bit until I found the tracks in the snow. I looked at all the snow that remained around the area and looked for shadow or depressions from a distance and suddenly saw those. I went to investigate and got more excited as I neared it. I saw the size, weight and stride length and called to the rest who had just arrived at the glade.”
Alex feeling the perturbations of the midtarsal break and the individual toes
In summary: One trackway was clearly human in origin with its human-sized boot prints with discernible heel prints showing closely spaced, individual prints wherein the left and right feet were not placed in a single line as indicated by a compliant gait as one would expect on an icy, difficult slope. The second trackway was indeterminate due to deterioration but tended to leave the impression that this was a juvenile probably accompanying an older individual. The third set of prints, “LT’s Trackway” was clearly created by a non-human, bipedal being. His five clearly defined toes, a foot shape that was broad from the toes to the heel, a clearly evident transverse ridge across the breadth of the foot, the total lack of arch in his foot and a broad, widened heel showed this to be one of our Primal People
After taking numerous pictures and copious measurements we retreated most carefully so as to not destroy any track in the field in order to facilitate subsequent examination in an attempt to ascertain melt rate and level of degradation in this medium.
Reexamination on the ensuing day revealed deterioration by melting to be so severe that the trackway was no longer a viable entity. In only a single day, LT’s Trackway had disintegrated beyond recognition and we were left to contemplate why we were privileged to experience the wonder on the last day of its existence.
After leaving the trackway on that fateful Monday, some of us moved to the outlet of the small lake… a beautiful area dominated by a low waterfall, a gorgeous little stream of pure running water and the majesty of the coniferous forest so alive and vibrant there. I chose to sit in the sun of this spring day and just enjoy the beauty while Arla, Alex and Cam worked their cautious way down the steep slope that was the downstream side of the earthen dam that created the small lake we had been circling in our morning outing.
As the ladies enjoyed their time spent beside the small stream and even sought to test their resolve by soaking bare feet in the icy run-off from melting snow… an activity that, though not of long duration, was certainly invigorating to exposed digits. I felt the call of nature and though I was loathe to leave, I knew that reluctance was purely born of my desire to share their presence and not some primitive “Me man, you woman” kind of protectionism. That they were safe, I knew beyond all reason and so it was without trepidation that I could leave them to enjoy their day as they would. Two more resourceful people never existed than my Sisters in the Spirit who were relaxing there. After the space of some minutes, Cam caught up with me at our cabin and we were able to enjoy several minutes of our own time before, an hour or so later, Alexa and Arla rejoined us at the cabin.
5 of the 7 of us in front of the Cabin
On their return, I felt compelled to ask of them what had transpired after I left for I felt it significant that I was called away and they remained. “We had an encounter,” was the simple reply. “We were greeted with a very distinctive grunt and I could see the individual in the trees further downstream from us.”
So, there it was. Our Primal People were with us. That was on Monday and late Tuesday I left the cabin just after sundown to complete my necessaries as a man can. I moved behind our cabin to where I could accomplish my goal when I heard “that” whistle… the sharp, up-down whistle I have become so familiar with. I snapped my head around in time to see a large, dark shape shift through the trees. It was true… they were here and they were in communication with us. It was not the open, clear communication I can effect with my Teacher, but I knew we were being told of their presence.
That was our last night at the cabin… LT left shortly after dinner to begin her fifteen hundred mile trek back to her Wisconsin home. In the early morning Arla, Alex, Cam and I took leave of Kathi and Cristy in order to wend our way back toward town, the airport and long flights home. It was too short, this hiatus from life, but it was so wonderful to be able to share this time with such wonderful people. We learned some things and we shared more. We had some experiences and saw some magnificent country. We shared Creation and we revered it. It was not perfect… we could have hoped for more, but it was enough. Our souls we renewed and I know that if we had been able to spend but a day or two more, our large friends would have been sitting next to us at our campfire roasting marshmallows and making a sweet, sticky mess… Until that day comes, my soul is not at rest… but it is at peace.
tc