This is my story, the story of all my dealings with sasquatches. I guess you could call it my sasquatch memoirs, but that sounds just a bit too pretentious. It’s just the story of how I went squatch crazy. I intend for this to be a regular feature on the site as I continue the story, a story which, at this point really has no ending. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 1, Descent into Madness
I think perhaps I am not fully sane. I see monsters, or at very least, animals that are termed as such since most people do not believe they exist. And yet I see them, hear them, and smell them…not once, but many times. According to many scientists of our day, I’m delusional, or at least mentally unbalanced enough that I am continually misinterpreting normal creatures as something my primal brain wants to believe in but isn’t real.
I was fifteen and a misfit. I liked playing role-playing games with my friends…can you say “Nerd?” I liked hunting squirrels, deer, ducks, and grouse. I liked eating squirrels (Redneck?). I’d often accompany my best friend to his family’s cabin in the Northwoods of WI. The area is called the Barrens by the locals, probably because the land there is not suitable for farming. It is too sandy in most places and boggy in others. Most of what grows there is jack pine and scrub oak, so it isn’t even targeted by the logging industry. From an economic sense, it is barren. What does flourish there are white-tailed deer, big white-tailed deer. There are also bears, bobcats, coyotes, and a host of other wildlife, including something that doesn’t exist, can’t exist because there seems to be no room for it in our perfectly manicured world. Perhaps no one told it that.
It was cold and clear that October. My friend Kris invited me to come to the cabin again. His cousin Tom would be coming this time, which was a rare event indeed. The two hours to the cabin flew by, lost in a game we were playing. I think it was called Travelers. We were galactic traders searching for wealth and adventure across the galaxy. It was a fun game. When Tom came we didn’t hunt much. Tom didn’t hunt, and we really just wanted to talk and mess around. We talked a lot about girls, martial arts, and other things teen boys love. We’d often leave the cabin and go for long walks, especially in the evenings, after dark. It was the only way to get away from Kris’s parents who were watching TV in the cabin. It’s not that we didn’t like them, I love his parents, but they were parents after all.
The moon was full and we went for a long walk. We didn’t bother bringing a light, you could see so well and we liked the dark. We walked and talked and laughed. It was a good time at least until we attracted the attention of…well…something. We were on the road and passing a pond when something like a large rock landed in the pond…KER-PLUNK. We all went silent and watched the circle of ripples radiating from the impact zone in the center of the pond. None of us had thrown it and the only other people within miles of us were Kris’s parents, watching TV in their PJs back at the cabin. It was a large rock. It was a bit unnerving. I figured Kris had found a way to do it without Tom and I noticing, but he swore he didn’t. We were about a mile from the cabin and decided we’d walked far enough. We turned around and headed back, looking over our shoulder as we did.
We didn’t get far when the smell hit us. To this day, I cannot adequately describe the stench. The closest I can come is if you combine the smell of a wet dog, with rotting meat, and the spray of a skunk. It was awful, the kind of smell you taste almost as much as you smell. We ran away from the smell, maybe fifteen yards down the road until it subsided. I looked back. Tom asked if it was a skunk. I said I didn’t know, thinking, “not like any skunk I’ve ever smelled before.” I lived in a woods and we had a dog. I’d smelled skunk before, up close and personal, and this was different. The smell of skunk didn’t make me afraid like this did. I laughed nervously and said, “Maybe it’s Bigfoot.” We all laughed at that. We’d all seen The Legend of Boggy Creek as kids. Eventually, we shrugged it off as a bad skunk and kept walking.