Oregon Outdoorsman Recounts Chilling Bigfoot Encounters in Pacific Northwest

If you've ever wondered what it feels like to have your chest rattle from a sound you can't explain, Derek's story from the forests outside Estacada, Oregon might just give you chills. This firsthand account, shared on the Bigfoot Society channel hosted by Jeremiah Byron, is one of those encounters that sticks with you long after you hear it. Derek is a fisherman and outdoorsman who grew up roaming the logging roads above Estacada, Colton, and Molalla. He's the kind of guy who knows every elk bugle, every cougar scream, every wolf howl the Pacific Northwest has to offer. So when something hit his ears that didn't match anything in his playbook, he knew it wasn't business as usual. It was about 10 miles outside of Estacada, up on a hill surrounded by clear cuts and old growth on the ridges. Derek and his girlfriend had been making nightly trips to the same turnaround spot for a couple of weeks, just to unwind. One evening, out of nowhere, a scream ripped through the trees roughly 20 yards from his truck. His words paint the picture perfectly: it was like a World War II siren, guttural, almost breathing in while it screamed. The vibration literally rattled his chest. His girlfriend didn't hesitate. She said one word, "Go," and Derek threw his truck in reverse and spun out of there. Now here's where it gets interesting. Derek went back the next day to investigate. The hillside where the scream had come from was torn up. Holes dug into the side of the hill, indentations and impressions in the ground, something had clearly been hanging out in that area. For anyone familiar with the Estacada region, this kind of terrain disturbance is exactly what witnesses have reported for decades. The Mt. Hood National Forest area has long been a hotspot for activity, with old logging roads providing easy access for something with long strides to move between ridges. But Derek's encounters didn't stop there. A few years later, he found himself camped at Harriet Lake, just three ridges over from that original scream site. For those who don't know, three ridges is nothing for a creature reportedly capable of 50-inch strides. That's maybe a mile, maybe less, depending on the terrain. He was cooking trout over a campfire, surrounded by a cathedral of old growth, when his girlfriend asked him to try making one of those sounds they'd heard before. Derek declined, saying he couldn't even come close to emulating it. So he just made some chicken noises, goofing around, not expecting anything. Within one second of stopping his calls, a tree came crashing down. And this wasn't some little snag. Derek estimates it was 6 to 8 inches in diameter. He believes these beings know exactly where the dead trees are in their environment, just like you know if something's out of place in your own room. They're masters of their domain. The couple packed up everything, including a brand new ice chest and all their food on the picnic table, and got out of there. They didn't even bother grabbing their gear. When Derek went back about a month ago to check out that hillside, it was still torn up. Something had clearly been using that area. One of the most fascinating parts of Derek's perspective is his theory about why no bones are ever found. He believes they travel in pairs, possibly small family groups, and when one passes, there's a burial, similar to how humans handle their dead. It makes sense when you think about it. Coyotes, vultures, raccoons, they scatter remains quickly in the forest. But if something is actively concealing its dead, that would explain the complete absence of skeletal evidence that skeptics often point to. Derek also mentions that he's talked to many people in the area, friends whose dads have been screamed at, pushed out of campsites, experienced the same kinds of things he has. This kind of pattern, multiple witnesses in the same region reporting similar encounters, is what researchers find most compelling. It's not just one isolated incident. It's a consistent pattern of behavior in a specific geographic area. The Estacada, Colton, and Molalla region of Oregon has a rich history of reports. The Glenn Thomas report from the Tarzan Springs area, loggers' stories from decades past, and ongoing encounters like Derek's all point to a population that has maintained a presence in these mountains for a very long time. The combination of old growth forest, clear cuts, water sources, and remote terrain creates ideal habitat. Jeremiah Byron, who hosts the show, also shared some personal news during this episode. He's fighting cancer and recently met with his oncologist, receiving an 80% survival chance prognosis. He's facing treatment in the coming weeks and asks for prayers from the community. His dedication to continuing the show and sharing these stories while going through such a difficult time speaks volumes about his commitment to the subject and the witnesses who trust him with their experiences. If you're a fan of raw, unfiltered witness testimony from people who actually live and work in Sasquatch country, this episode is absolutely worth your time. Derek's calm, matter-of-fact delivery makes the story even more believable. He's not trying to sell you anything. He's just sharing what happened to him, and what happened to him is something that doesn't fit neatly into any known animal category. Check out the full episode on the Bigfoot Society YouTube channel. It's a reminder that the woods are very much alive, and sometimes they have a voice that can shake you to your core.