Seeking Sasquatch in the Hudson Valley: Gayle Beatty of Bigfoot Researchers of the Hudson Valley

• Seeking Sasquatch in the Hudson Valley: Emily Fleur of The Forest Fleur
• Death of the Voles

Thomm Quackenbush

Though Emily Fleur cleaves to grounded theories, wanting a biological explanation, Gayle Beatty is sure Bigfoots have something of the supernatural to them. She had previously discussed that the creatures seem to fade from our dimension on a whim, which would better explain why we do not find their scat and bones. Their leavings fall outside our reality.

Beatty is a short, blonde woman with a welcoming voice and demeanor. She runs a local bait shop, Hook Line & Sinker, when she is not investigating the local Bigfoot population, being interviewed, or attending Bigfoot events -- which are much less of a rarity than the hoi polloi might anticipate. Her fieldwork only sometimes requires her to hike into the dark of strange wood, as she has a habitation site in the undeveloped property behind her house. The shop, also the headquarters of Bigfoot Researchers of the Hudson Valley, is not far from neighbors, down the road from the Red Hook Elks Lodge #2022 and within a mile of the elementary, middle, and high school, as well as Market Street, the main road that crosses Route 9 and which turns into Route 199. The site is likewise close to Bard College, though, to my knowledge, no liberal arts major has mentioned a run-in with ape-men.

Beatty noted in Chronogram, "One side of the shop is Bigfoot and the other is bait. We have over a dozen casts of footprints, tons of photos, books, Bigfoot memorabilia, some art and jewelry."�

Beatty's first exposure to Bigfoot was accidental. In 1968, when she was a rebellious fifteen-year-old, she stormed out of her parents' home and set up camp on Stissing Mountain in Pine Plains. She said, "It was just getting dark and I heard an owl call -- really loud and sudden, a little different-sounding [...] Seconds later, there was the most horrible scream. It just tore through me and vibrated in my chest."� She barrelled down the mountain without looking for what had made it, "yelling that there was something out there and it was after [her]."�

In 2011, her husband was watching Animal Planet's Finding Bigfoot. She heard the exact sound that terrified her off the mountain over fifty years before. She said she did not know about Bigfoots then but might have heard a little about Yetis. She soon learned her encounter was a Class B, as she had not seen the creature. She has since racked up countless Class A's.

Thus began her fascination, which compelled her enough to write a children's book and founded Bigfoot Researchers of the Hudson Valley, a group to which Fleur does not belong.

Beatty was not shy about contradicting Fleur's confident assertions. Though Bigfoot does not wholly belong to our world, Beatty asserted that the hundreds of tested samples show Bigfoots to be hybrids with human mitochondrial DNA. Its nuclear DNA, however, is a mystery. Specifically, she thinks the Bigfoots may be the children of Native American women who were impregnated by aliens during the last Ice Age, between 12,000 and 15,000 years ago, as she stated to Rural Intelligence.

I looked to see Fleur's reaction. She keeps her expression interested but neutral. If she did otherwise, it could present the wrong narrative. Whatever dissension they might have about the nature of their subjects, Fleur's and Beatty's research will continue to overlap. When venues are looking to book Bigfoot presenters, why not get the package deal?

Beatty mentioned she no longer has as many plaster footprints as the medium is fragile and prone to chipping and crumbling. A coat or two of shellac can help, but one must leave the cast away from the elements on a shelf. Beatty brings hers to as many events as she can, so the life of each is abridged.

She pulled up a picture of a horse with a twist in its mane, claiming this was the result of a Bigfoot turned hairdresser. I cannot speak to the dexterity of their hands, though they do not look to be made for delicate work. I have yet to meet a horse that wouldn't bolt at something Bigfoot-adjacent. My reservation about this detail originates in fairy stories. Mercutio mentions Elf (or fairy) locks in his Queen Mab speech in Romeo and Juliet:

That plaits the manes of horses in the night
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes.

They also affect children, who are not known as kempt creatures in the best circumstances. Among the adult patchouli set, it has become a desirable hairstyle -- though some find it problematic, seeing it as appropriation of dreads.

It is unlikely anyone then believed in the apotropaic import of elflocks any more than parents believe in the tooth fairy. It is a cute, magical explanation for your kiddo having a cowlick.

In horses, these knots are caused by wind, mud, stuck plant matter, and rubbing against trees and other horses -- or by the accumulation of all of these and a lack of grooming.

Beatty's Bigfoot is a more dangerous beast than Fleur's pacific simian. In addition to having brought a cleaned cow skull she said was found after a sighting in Tivoli, New York, Beatty showed a picture of a baby goat with flesh removed on its back such that it looks as though something massive bit a chunk out, almost cartoonishly perfect in its ghastliness.

Beatty scrolled to a photo of a hundred sticks placed against a small tree as though in a cone. She called it a shelter, then revised that nothing more significant than a squirrel could have lived there, so perhaps it was more of a marker for other Bigfoots. It is a serious undertaking for a famously retiring cryptid as they communicate by breaking significant tree limbs fast and definitively. To the Rural Intelligence, she said, "You say maybe a person or teens built that, but I say no. It's a Sasquatch. We found a bunch of swamp flowers wrapped up with grass."�

Beatty apologized for the low quality of most of her pictures. They would not convince a doubter, who could lean on pareidolia and wishful thinking misinterpreting shapes and pixilation. They may not encourage a believer.

She pulled up a still from a FLIR thermographic camera meant to show heat signatures against the coolness of the woods. Indeed, there was an orange splotch like the sun on a child's drawing, but she could not show a complete and convincing video. She related with regret that, when she recorded it in 2013, she promised the landowner she never would. One gets the feeling the whole video would have astounded viewers, but she would renege on her word.

This was not the first time Beatty reported possessing footage that could rattle the world. She recalled to Hudson Valley One that, on December 30, 2013, two Massachusetts researchers with night-vision cameras joined her in the woods, after which they were pelted with rocks. Beatty said she had "about eight minutes of footage: enough to prove their existence. We have not released it to the public. We're working with a documentary filmmaker at the moment."� To date, this footage remains unreleased.

She scrolled to a blue-black mass, saying that it came from camera glasses she had worn on an investigation. She did not see the shape while wearing them and only spied it when looking through the footage later. It isn't easy to see not only the object but what one is supposed to see. This is to be expected, as Beatty maintains Bigfoots are master hiders, covering themselves with moss and leaves. She also believes they have the biological ability to cloak themselves like in Predator, accounting for their blurriness in photographs. Given how massive and pungent they are, this would not be a functional long-term solution, but one cannot argue that few Bigfoots are seen. Though the FLIR might be a suitable way to get around that trickery, this technique must have merit.

One of Beatty's associates, Brian (no last name given), testified about his first outing with her. When he turned off his camera, he was at once beset by inexplicable howling. Rather than investigating -- as a character in a horror movie might a minute before finding his head ripped from his neck -- he fled to safety.

Beatty did have pictures other than magnifications of photos of the woods. Among these were handprints on dusty windows, which were still not as straightforward as one might like and whose breadth needed clarification. They could belong to a human more easily than a monster.

The Bigfoot or Bigfoots in Tivoli seem like poor neighbors, banging on one man's house at all hours, breaking his security cameras, and howling. The homeowner tried to appease it with sandwiches nailed to the wall. While these were eaten, it could not definitively be stated that a Bigfoot had done the eating. Ours is not an area where animals, including coyotes, deer, and squirrels, are a rarity.

As a reward for his sandwiches, the Bigfoot stabbed a long stick into the mud, which does not seem to be a proportional thanks, but we cannot know their culture. Bigfoot interactions do seem to have a foundation in sticks. The creature also sickened him with waves of infrasound, so overall, it was a mixed bag.

The homeowner had not been warned against feeding the Bigfoots, though Beatty emphasized giving food was not wise. Instead, one should leave marbles, tobacco, and shiny rocks in a place where the Bigfoots frequent. If these are taken (by Bigfoot and not the flocks of curious crows), one might be rewarded with a feather. (At least it would not be a stick.) She is adamant that the Bigfoots take offense to the knocking and yelling other researchers do.

Fleur and Beatty are not alone in suspecting this area might be rife with Bigfoots. According to News 12, a Highland, NY, resident, Jane Vespe, said she had begun to see massive footprints in her yard. This culminated in witnessing the beast, which she described as "about 10-11 feet tall"� with "really red"� eyes. It banged on her house and carried garbage cans across her lawn. The only other animal indigenous to this area that would be close to that size is the black bear, which reaches a comparatively humble 7 feet -- though with a marked propensity for garbage cans.

"Survivorman" Les Stroud came to the Hudson Valley to interview locals, inevitably including the Bigfoot Researchers of the Hudson Valley, about their findings and seemed to find their answers satisfying.

According to Gene Lomoriello's article in Hudson Valley Magazine, the species has made its home all over the valley. The cast of Finding Bigfoot investigated this area for the second season's first episode, and with good reason. One of the more arresting videos reputedly of the creature, the so-called New York Baby Footage, was taken by Doug Pridgen in 1997. In it, one sees a small animal swinging from branches in the background. One doesn't need to be strongly primed to see a chimpanzee there, a species that doesn't make this area its home. One imagines it would have been reported if it were a pet or zoo exhibit. Cliff Barackman, one of the investigators on Finding Bigfoot, tried without success to replicate it, using the same trees, deciding on this site, "It is clear that whatever it is that Doug captured on video is an ape, and based on the context, I am leaning towards it being a juvenile sasquatch."�

On an investigation with Beatty, actor Jeremy Davidson found a dead hawk that smelled skunky. While Bigfoots are reputed to have this odor, so are skunks. It likewise might have been that the dead bird had become ripe. He turned his experiences with Beatty into an original production Finding Sasquatch, along with his wife, actress Mary Stuart Masterson.

The Hudson Valley Magazine continues, "The [Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization],"� which compiles sightings worldwide, claims, "a total of no fewer than 55 sightings have occurred in Albany, Columbia, Greene, Ulster, Dutchess, Putnam, Orange, Rockland, and Sullivan counties."� Many people who witness a hairy wild man will be only too inclined to pretend they hadn't, the bane of any Fortean research, so we cannot know the actual number.

Beatty is not haphazard when it comes to going out into the field. Rather than tranquilizer darts or bear spray, she insists on smudging and anointing holy water on those who join her. She always has her cross with her. Her faith is crucial to her identity and extends to her research. When she did not sanctify her associates, the Bigfoots would punish them with tossed rocks, so better safe than sorry. It makes one question the beast's nature if prayer and smoke can sway it. (The scent of burnt sage also makes a forest dweller better know where the humans are.)

I had heard similar remarks among those for whom alien abduction is a regular inconvenience. Surrounding oneself with visualized white light, praying, and smudging can reportedly put the aliens off from their nightly rounds. If invoking Jesus Christ's name wards off a creature, it might bear wondering if "alien"� is the correct term.

Beatty acknowledged some Bigfoots can be evil, but so can some humans. We cannot condemn the lot of them for the malevolence of a few. (We also cannot know the population of good and neutral to evil, but the former must outweigh the latter. Otherwise, it would be foolish to be researchers instead of hunters.) The evil Bigfoots do not seem to be conniving as much as they are more willing to throw rocks. Still, one doesn't want to dawdle in philosophy when it comes to megafauna hurling rocks.

Beatty mentioned that the evil Bigfoots tend to have white fur, which might read as racial profiling. However, it could also be that white fur would make them more visible outside the winter months, requiring better hiding. That's sure to put anyone in a bad mood.

Beatty cited the case of three-year-old Casey Hathaway. Hathaway was found safe in January 2019 after three days lost during twenty-degree nights and two inches of rain near his Ernul, North Carolina, home. Though the FBI, NCIS, and the US Marine Crop sought him, and despite divers examining ponds, the conditions were so bad that volunteers were turned away. Only after the postponement did a Chocowinity search team headed by Shane Grier discovered the two-foot four-inch boy calling for his mother only a quarter mile from his home. Hathaway credited his friend, a bear, for having kept him company. The story was barely reported before Bigfooters claimed the child protector as their own. They get few wins, so why not take this one? There was no follow-up from Hathaway, so maybe it was a Bigfoot.

Chris Servheen, a bear researcher at the University of Montana, was less generous, reported The Guardian, saying, "I don't want to cast aspersions on the child but I think the little boy had a fantasy. The bear wouldn't feel sorry for him, thinking he's alone. [...] But if the boy felt comfortable under the watch of a wild animal that's fine. Whatever helped him get through it."� As such, one shouldn't hope an apex predator would reenact The Jungle Book with their toddler. In the best-case scenario, a bear would smell the child and avoid the area. The worst-case scenario is not worth considering.

Unlike the bashful ape man Fleur seeks, Beatty's Bigfoot will find you. They can "mind speak,"� telling the seeker where to go and what to do to have an encounter. Bigfoot Researchers of the Hudson Valley mentioned this to me before, detailing experiences where they received a psychic message to turn, obeying it just in time to see a flash of fur retreating. This is poor manners on the Bigfoot's part, as it could have directed them to look a little sooner. Then again, as I have noted in my novels, things of this nature want to be discussed but not proven.

Absent other dimensional explanations, Beatty stated that the reason we cannot find evidence of them is that Bigfoots are civilized enough to bury their dead. The field of archeology might disagree with the effectiveness of unmarked graves staying that way. This is to say nothing of the near-constant construction and expansion in the Hudson Valley. Short of an international coverup, someone should have dug up a skeleton that might be mistaken for a human with gigantism rather than a Gigantopithecus, necessitating a call to the police.

Every supposed Bigfoot body presented to the public has been a frozen gorilla costume -- something that the same hoaxer did more than once. He still insisted he had an actual Bigfoot corpse, which he declined to produce.

There was the Pangboche Hand, a mummified hand actor James Stewart smuggled out of Nepal in his wife's underwear (in her luggage, not on her person). According to the BBC, the monks claimed Lama Sangwa Dorje was meditating in a cave and came to befriend a yeti, who brought him food and drink so he would not have to stop. Dorje so wowed the beast that it became the Lama's disciple. Upon the yeti's death, his master collected the scalp and hand -- which reads as discourteous -- making the body parts sacred relics of his monastery. In 2011, one of the fingers was DNA tested by genetic experts at the Edinburgh Zoo in Scotland. Dr. Rob Odgen of the Royal Zoological Society of Scotland said, "We had several fragments that we put into one big sequence and then we matched that against the database and we found human DNA. [...] Human was what we were expecting and human is what we got."�

Beatty and Brian claimed there is concrete, if not direct physical evidence. People have found stone tools attributed to the creatures, though Beatty did not explore the exact nature of these. One doesn't expect microprocessors or even arrows from these hominoids, but the evidential sharp flint might have a less exotic explanation. Brian stated that Bigfoots are fascinated by our machines. Perhaps they are trying to learn how to build their own.

They tried to answer why Bigfoots break trees, sometimes dramatically ripping a limb, as shown in the photographs. They guessed these were meant as a show of territoriality. Bigfoots are private creatures and wouldn't want others of their species intruding on their turf, though it is likely they wouldn't have to worry too much about this.

Though Beatty's theories on Bigfoot may surprise laypeople, they are not originally hers. When I grew up as a paranormally inclined child (i.e., the resident weird kid with a hyper fixation), Bigfoot was what Fleur described: an undiscovered hominid, though one confined to Tibetan mountains or the Pacific Northwest, one I would not encounter in my backyard while I played at finding footprints. In the last twenty years, the creature has morphed into something surrounded by glowing orbs, bulletproof, capable of reading minds and transmitting thought, and an immortal magician who pals around with aliens. They became residents of the liminal realms, which easily answered for the lack of material evidence at the expense of their tangibility. Brian dubbed this "Quantum Bigfoot," the title of a book by Ronald Morehead uniting science and spirituality on the subject (while having an excellent cover of a levitating, glowing-eyed Bigfoot surrounded by electron orbitals).

In part, this was a reversion to purported Native myths from which people (mainly of a paler complexion) decided they had originated, a demigod, a wild man of the woods who could provide boons or punishments. "Sasquatch"� is the Salish word for the creature, though spelled "Sesquac"� or some version thereof. Beatty stated that half of all Native American tribes believe in the beast in some way, something Fleur echoes on her site, writing, "Almost every group across North America has a name for this species & they are often depicted in indigenous art!"�

Bigfoot became a catchall for anything in legend that could be wrapped in its fur. The same animal was to blame for cannibalizing one's blood family, howling under a full moon, playing harmless tricks, and limited flight. Its ubiquity became so overwhelming that even unrelated monsters had the suffice "-squatch"� applied to their naming, ala Sheepsquatch. They became a cryptozoological franchise at the expense of remaining tethered to any mundanity.

Brian returned to the mic and, with a preacherly conviction, attempted to talk through a Grand Unified Theory of Sasquatch to combine Fleur's grounded approach and Beatty's expansive and almost magical one. He posited that Fleur describes the surface appearance of something paranormal, which did seem to discount most of her scientific research. To Brian, Bigfoots do not exist in the realm of the repeatable. Therefore, it is borderline wasteful to try to apply the edicts of science to the phenomenon. In furtherance of this, he delved into the beasts' psychic cloaking, implying this is of value to the military in their attempt at evading enemies.

Neither woman is insincere nor conniving -- that type doesn't last long in the realm of Fortean phenomena (though a few are always on its edges). They have given much of themselves to this pursuit, even if it seems silly to people who only know about the topic from the nattering sitcom characters meant to be over the deep end. There are easier ways to earn money and attention that would not ding one's reputation. There is a belief that involvement in the paranormal (or cryptozoological, in Fleur's case) will only strain one's relationships, whittle away one's sanity, and dwindle one's finances. It is difficult to point to the researcher who is better off for their involvement, though neither woman lacks for their proximity to Bigfoot. In their ways, they are charming and credible. One doesn't need to believe in a Sasquatch of any stripe to want to believe in the genuineness of Fleur and Beatty.