Encounter-Bunyip State Park Vic-Tree Knock Response
Posted: Tue Dec 26, 2017 6:32 am
Hi all.
I would like to report what is my third Yowie encounter in the last five years or so.
The first was near Mallacoota, right at the eastern tip of Victoria, the second was near in the Otway Ranges, and now I’ve had a third encounter yesterday (24th of December 2017). Now all three encounters have occurred when I have had a female accompany me. The freaky thing with this current encounter is that it was so close to my home. I live in the outer South-East of Melbourne, and to think that this encounter happened within a 20-25 minute drive of my house is amazing, and totally unexpected.
My partner and I were looking at doing some exercise, and whilst I had explored Bunyip State Park from the Gembrook side, I had not explored the southern end of the park, accessed from the Tynong North Road.
As we were driving into the State Park, we saw a deer crossing the road in front of us. I had never seen a deer in the Australian bush, so that was a surprise to me. Anyway, we stopped at what looked like a decent track to explore, known as Lupton Track. We parked the car on the side of the road, and off we went to get some exercise. Now as I’ve had two previous encounters, I view the Aussie bush with a level of respect and cautiousness that I didn’t previously. Also, I’m constantly on the outlook for things that don’t seem natural. After around a kilometre or so into the bush, there didn’t seem to be anything that I noticed that looked out of place. We stopped at a really nice outlook and took the photo in photo 1. As you can see, it’s very dense forest. It was a great outlook on top of the hill, and worth the walk up there. Anyway, we decided to push on further down the track.
That went well for another 500m or so down the track, then I started to notice things. The first thing was a structure that just didn’t look natural to me. I walked over to touch the structure, and it was so hardly braced that I could hardly move it. Something had forced the structure to be like that, and it had taken a lot of force to get it between the other tree stumps to strongly. I took a photo of the structure (see photo 2), and as I paused to take the photo, I heard what was like a deep thud. It kind of hit you a bit through the ground. I headed back the the track, and my parter had also heard the thud. I was on high alert from that moment on
We decided to keep on walking as we were keen to get our exercise. About another kilometre down the track we found another structure. It was two rather large branches, turned upside down like a teepee, bracing each other, so that the smaller ends of the brunches were in the ground, almost like tent pegs (see photo 3). The chances of the branches falling like that naturally must be 1 million to one.
Then I looked further into the distance, and behind the teepee structure, there was almost an archway that had been made but two large eucalypts. It was almost like an entry into a Chinese village (see photo 4).
The other thing that I had noticed was that as we had walked to that spot, to me I looked like there were signs along the track that just felt like the track was being bordered by branches, almost like a fence.
Anyway, as we stood there, my parter said “have you noticed how quiet it is”. The birds that had been chirping the whole way along the track were completely silent. Not a sound was coming from anywhere.
We both started to feel really uneasy as it was so silent. I then felt the urge to try and communicate. It just landed in my brain that I wanted to communicate. I found a branch a bit thicker than a baseball bat, and decided to do a tree knock. I did a decent one that echoed through the valley. Then about 10 seconds later, there was a knock back. That freaked us out a lot, but at the same time it felt so amazing that something was smart enough to answer back. It was communicating. It sounded like I came from the north side of the track.
I said to my partner, “get you phone out and record the next knock that I will do”. So we recorded a few more knocks, and there was no answer back. We were so disappointed as we really wanted to record it to listen to later. It was like they could sense that we were using the phone to record the knocks.
We decided to turn around and to head back to the car, as we were uneasy about getting further away from the car, and after our experience in the Otways, my partner was freaked out too. We had seen how quickly they could move, and you have no chance of outrunning them. We did feel kind of safe on the track, as you do sense that they would need to reveal themselves to do anything to you. Anyway, on the way back, we saw two deer run across the track, which amazed me again. I also noticed a lot of trees that had been bent so that they were braced against another tree. I don’t think that trees would grow like that (see photo 5).
We made it safely back to the car, and headed home. Now that I’ve had an encounter so close to home, I feel the urge to go back there, but to be honest, I felt vulnerable with just my partner and I.
It only dawned on me as I was typing this that the name of the park itself leads it to something different living in the forest. Bunyip State Park. Well I think that the park lives up to it’s name.
I would like to report what is my third Yowie encounter in the last five years or so.
The first was near Mallacoota, right at the eastern tip of Victoria, the second was near in the Otway Ranges, and now I’ve had a third encounter yesterday (24th of December 2017). Now all three encounters have occurred when I have had a female accompany me. The freaky thing with this current encounter is that it was so close to my home. I live in the outer South-East of Melbourne, and to think that this encounter happened within a 20-25 minute drive of my house is amazing, and totally unexpected.
My partner and I were looking at doing some exercise, and whilst I had explored Bunyip State Park from the Gembrook side, I had not explored the southern end of the park, accessed from the Tynong North Road.
As we were driving into the State Park, we saw a deer crossing the road in front of us. I had never seen a deer in the Australian bush, so that was a surprise to me. Anyway, we stopped at what looked like a decent track to explore, known as Lupton Track. We parked the car on the side of the road, and off we went to get some exercise. Now as I’ve had two previous encounters, I view the Aussie bush with a level of respect and cautiousness that I didn’t previously. Also, I’m constantly on the outlook for things that don’t seem natural. After around a kilometre or so into the bush, there didn’t seem to be anything that I noticed that looked out of place. We stopped at a really nice outlook and took the photo in photo 1. As you can see, it’s very dense forest. It was a great outlook on top of the hill, and worth the walk up there. Anyway, we decided to push on further down the track.
That went well for another 500m or so down the track, then I started to notice things. The first thing was a structure that just didn’t look natural to me. I walked over to touch the structure, and it was so hardly braced that I could hardly move it. Something had forced the structure to be like that, and it had taken a lot of force to get it between the other tree stumps to strongly. I took a photo of the structure (see photo 2), and as I paused to take the photo, I heard what was like a deep thud. It kind of hit you a bit through the ground. I headed back the the track, and my parter had also heard the thud. I was on high alert from that moment on
We decided to keep on walking as we were keen to get our exercise. About another kilometre down the track we found another structure. It was two rather large branches, turned upside down like a teepee, bracing each other, so that the smaller ends of the brunches were in the ground, almost like tent pegs (see photo 3). The chances of the branches falling like that naturally must be 1 million to one.
Then I looked further into the distance, and behind the teepee structure, there was almost an archway that had been made but two large eucalypts. It was almost like an entry into a Chinese village (see photo 4).
The other thing that I had noticed was that as we had walked to that spot, to me I looked like there were signs along the track that just felt like the track was being bordered by branches, almost like a fence.
Anyway, as we stood there, my parter said “have you noticed how quiet it is”. The birds that had been chirping the whole way along the track were completely silent. Not a sound was coming from anywhere.
We both started to feel really uneasy as it was so silent. I then felt the urge to try and communicate. It just landed in my brain that I wanted to communicate. I found a branch a bit thicker than a baseball bat, and decided to do a tree knock. I did a decent one that echoed through the valley. Then about 10 seconds later, there was a knock back. That freaked us out a lot, but at the same time it felt so amazing that something was smart enough to answer back. It was communicating. It sounded like I came from the north side of the track.
I said to my partner, “get you phone out and record the next knock that I will do”. So we recorded a few more knocks, and there was no answer back. We were so disappointed as we really wanted to record it to listen to later. It was like they could sense that we were using the phone to record the knocks.
We decided to turn around and to head back to the car, as we were uneasy about getting further away from the car, and after our experience in the Otways, my partner was freaked out too. We had seen how quickly they could move, and you have no chance of outrunning them. We did feel kind of safe on the track, as you do sense that they would need to reveal themselves to do anything to you. Anyway, on the way back, we saw two deer run across the track, which amazed me again. I also noticed a lot of trees that had been bent so that they were braced against another tree. I don’t think that trees would grow like that (see photo 5).
We made it safely back to the car, and headed home. Now that I’ve had an encounter so close to home, I feel the urge to go back there, but to be honest, I felt vulnerable with just my partner and I.
It only dawned on me as I was typing this that the name of the park itself leads it to something different living in the forest. Bunyip State Park. Well I think that the park lives up to it’s name.