One snowy night….
I was invited to attend a meeting of the Two-By-Two’s. The Two-By-Two’s are a conservative religious sect that believes the preaching ministry must be practiced by itinerant preachers; preachers who do not receive any remuneration for their work.
This meeting was being held in a tiny village, Northport, that is actually designated as an American ghost-town. According to the 2010 census there were 295 souls in the area. The meeting was being held in one of the occupied homes. There were many unoccupied homes, abandoned when the work at the mill ceased. To be sure, the place was kind of spooky even in the light of day in the middle of summer. Northport is right across the Columbia River from Canada.
I was not terribly impressed by the meeting. The home was dark and the attendants were foreboding. Outside a significant snow storm was blowing. I was still driving my 1964 Ford Falcon, 6 cylinders. Its power was limited. On the way back to the cabin at Deep Lake there was a steep hill lined on the left by beautiful quaking aspen trees that were now bare in the winter. I had to get a running start to make it to the top of this hill in the snow. My headlights only penetrated the snowfall by maybe 50-100 feet. If I was to make it to the top, I could not let up on the gas or slow down in any way. I would be stuck.
On the way to the top I saw an animal emerge from the aspen trees and stand in the middle of the road. With vision limited, I was still able to see that it was a very large fur covered creature standing up and facing me. My first, most reasonable, interpretation was that it was a bear awakened for a mid-winter snack. I was thinking about how cool this was until it turned and headed up the hill on the opposite side of the road. The shocking part? It turned on two feet and bi-peddled up the hill! Bears cannot do that. If bears turn and begin to run, they have to drop to all fours and lumber off.
Some will read the next sentence and decide they have read enough. I saw a Sasquatch/Bigfoot.
The next day miles of fresh tracks in the snow were reported in the area by the local farmers of what could only be a very large and heavy creature – Bigfoot tracks.
These farmers, like me, lived miles apart in an area so isolated that there was no mail delivery, no television or radio news. I had a short-wave radio on which I could occasionally get a signal that bounced off the atmosphere when the conditions were right. Therefore, the only reality we experienced was what we reported among ourselves. They reported many Sasquatch sightings. The stories of these sightings never made it out of the closed community of which we were all a part. These reports included strange sounds. Vocalizations. Sounds of tree branches breaking combined with visual confirmation in the morning of branches broken off at a high point on the fir trees in their yards. Scared cows and horses.
So, believe what you need to but these are my stories…and I’m sticking to them.