Bigfoot: Believe It or Not

BFRO Mount Adams Late July – 2012 After a two week rest and recovery from our Olympic Project Expedition, we headed east and into the Cascade Mountains, near Mount Adams. The expression, ‘Getting there is half of the fun’ applied to the route we traveled. The roads had highway numbers, like 23 and 88, but some of the road surfaces were in sad condition due to weather damage. Speed limit signs were unrealistic and sparse. The roadway had signs posted saying Pavement Ends (like for 10 miles), and suddenly a section of pavement appeared for a few miles, then back to dirt. There was a sign advising drivers Roadwork Ahead, with the ‘Ahead’ road crew 20 miles from the sign. The scenery was very impressive and appeared to be prime habitat for the elusive Bigfoot. We eventually made our way to the BFRO campsite where a fairly large group Bigfooters were setting up camp. We staked out a site near a game trail and alongside other tents, unloaded our gear and wandered around meeting our fellow Bigfoot trekkers. As in other Bigfoot gatherings, various groups were formed for night walks. It’s thought by experienced Bigfooters that BF comes out of the woods to checkout bunches of people who walk down mountain or forest roads with red head lamps, periodically stopping in order to let out a howl and listen for a response. Personally, I get a bit nervous or embarrassed when a male-caller lets out a call that sounds like a girl with a sore throat. But the first time I heard a response from a distance, I could see it was like a calling card to let any distant Squatches know we are in their domain. My group of about 12 night walkers headed out of camp at a pretty good clip, which puts me at the rear. Whoever’s bringing up the rear is known as “cougar-bait,” because cougars attack their prey from the rear. I was joined by Torrie. We were about a half-mile out, when she asked me if I was being struck by pebbles or pine cones, because she was. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand and said she was getting sick and felt like something was somehow attacking her. I told our group leader that we needed to stop in order to let her rest. When she explained the feeling she had, the group encircled her and sat beside the road. As we sat, it became apparent a lightning storm was approaching in the distance. We couldn’t hear the sound of accompanying thunder even as the flashes got closer – THEN, all hell broke loose with lightning, thunder, wind and torrential rain! Our orderly night walk devolved into a helter-skelter run back to camp. I’ve been in hurricanes, typhoons and blizzards, but this mountain storm beats them all. Kids and women were screaming as we were guided by lightning light to the safety (?) of our water and lightning-proof (ha-ha) tents. The rain was so intense that it was nearly impossible to see where we were going. When reaching our tent, I cursed myself for not fastening the fly. Inside the tent was a virtual wading pool. As the storm passed by, I bailed what I could with a cooking pan, then cut a couple of slots for a drain at the lower end of the tent. When Eryn returned from her walk – er – run, she opted to take her sleeping bag and spend the night in someone’s tent that had thought to close their fly. I wished that somebody had said to me, “Hey, your fly’s open!” One couple and their young son had had their tent blown over and all of their bedding, clothes and equipment was soaked. They spent the night in their vehicle, and ended up leaving at daylight. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to converse with the guy during the previous day and asked him if he had any Bigfoot experiences. He related an experience in a Southern State when he and a couple of college friends camped during a Spring Break. About dusk he took a roll of toilet paper and headed out of their site in order to do his “business.” While on his purposeful trek he suddenly came upon a Bigfoot. As soon as they saw each other both turned around and ran back to where they came from. Thinking his buddies wouldn’t believe him, no mention was made of it until they were on the way home when the incident was relayed. One of the campers said he also had a similar experience, but didn’t bring it up because he thought the others wouldn’t believe him. The third guy thought the two who told their tales were “full of it” and were just trying to freak him out. The morning after the storm I woke up about 4:00 AM to the sound of two individuals (judging from two different voice pitches) having a conversation in an unfamiliar language. I thought to myself the sound was like animals talking to each other. When I reported this to the BFRO organizers, they told me I’d heard Bigfoot talking. Hmmm… That night I got behind the steering wheel of a vehicle labeled “R-2 D-2” (of Star Wars) because of device mounted on its roof looking like a TV dish. In actuality, this roof hardware is a Thermal Eye 500 XP (or something similar) that can locate anything that radiates heat. The dish is able to be rotated 360 degrees by a joystick operator in the vehicle. In this case the person working the joystick was a 12-year-old video-game-pro named Hunter. A small screen receives the image for the operator to view. As a driver, I drove very slowly on the logging roads in the vicinity of our camp while Hunter did his stuff.. In over a two-hour period we spotted several deer or elk, but nary a Bigfoot. All in all, this trip turned out to be a Bigfoot blast.