People experience odd smells while walking in the forest. Usually the source is evident, but not always. Sasquatch enthusiasts have advanced the notion that the creature uses scent as a deterrent to keep intruders away.
Here are two examples:
During the summer of 1984, a gentleman who, at the time, was working for Yukon Parks and Recreation, was checking for an appropriate location to construct a new campground on Tatchun Lake. Along with his crew, they checked a few locations. As it was getting late in the afternoon, he let his crew return to Whitehorse while he decided to check one last spot.
He arrived at the present-day location of the Tatchun Lake Campground, parked his vehicle and started walking around. Satisfied that this location would be appropriate for a new campground, he made his way back to his truck while walking over and around the many trees felled by the wind—trees that would be useful for firewood.
At one point, his foot slipped and a broken branch impaled his lower left leg. There he was, laying partly on the tree and partly on the ground, in pain. Then for some reason, it became very quiet around him: no birds flying or chirping, no squirrels moving about, and no wind. Dead calm. Then there was a pungent, eye-watering smell. His first thought was that a bear was close by, but it smelled worse than any bear he had ever encountered. So, what was it?
He could not identify any animals that would smell that bad. The stink lasted a couple of minutes, then was gone suddenly, it seemed, and the forest was alive again. The gentleman, now over his shock, managed to free himself from the broken branch and made it to his truck where he bandaged up his leg and then drove to the Whitehorse General Hospital.
Another “stinky occurrence” took place near Frenchman Lake in July of 2003.
A lady friend of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation and I were lazily fishing while canoeing around the northern shores of the lake when, at one point, we entered a small bay, about three kilometres west of the Frenchman Lake Campground, where a strong, sickening stench came upon us, seemingly encompassing us.
I jokingly told my paddling partner to stop farting, then the smell became stronger. I would describe the smell as dirty diapers mixed with pig manure and dog excrement (enough to make your eyes water and take your breath away).
Then I noticed that the forest had become silent—a dead calm—with no birds flying or chirping and no small animals running around foraging for food. No wind. Nothing!
We paddled towards shore with the intention of finding the cause of this smell. Oddly, upon reaching the shore, the smell had disappeared completely. The immediate area was totally calm and quiet for a short while. Then, gradually, the area came back to life and we could see squirrels and birds, and the trees were swaying in the gentle breeze.
We spent the next 20 minutes looking around. The area was mostly covered by lodgepole pines and black spruce, with small poplar trees closer to the water. An animal trail lead to the water, as well as the usual array of wild plants and flowers. But there was no sign of a dead animal … nothing indicating the cause of the stink.
Upon returning home to Whitehorse, I did an online search for possible causes of such smells and discovered that a retired biologist from the Oregon National Primate Research Center, Dr. W. Fahrenbach, had studied the subject and considered that such a smell could be produced by sasquatch as a way to defuse possible encounters with animals or humans, in much the same way that mountain gorillas do this (studied and reported by American primatologist and conservationist, Dian Fossey).
Odd smell occurrences of this sort have been reported to me previously and would seem to be another unusual manner by which our legendary forest friend would keep people away. I have returned to both locations several times since, but have not experienced anything similar.
