Last year while we were camping, a friend of mine told me about a show he loved where the hosts go looking for Sasquatch.
We sat around the campfire while he recounted episodes where the hosts visit certain area (including where I grew up) and declare them “squatchy.” This friend wears a hat that reads “Gone Squatchin’.”
He wasn’t the only Bigfoot enthusiast at the campsite. I’m a believer, I said nonchalantly. Another guy told us his theory on how Sasquatch was actually an alien.
I can’t say where everyone else’s fixation with Bigfoot came from, but I think mine started around the time of Harry and the Hendersons’s. Y’know:
I remember being frightened and crying during that movie, but I was also in love with Harry. I don’t think I was the only one.
As an adult, I spend a lot of time in the woods. Camping is a summer-long activity for us, and I hike year-round in some very Squatchy areas.
When I’m there, I think about Harry…er, Bigfoot, and wonder if s/he watches us. Sometimes I talk to her/him, telepathically of course.
Here’s the thing: the woods is full of scary shit. And while I know the rules for how to deal with a mountain lion, I’m not quite sure how intimidating I could be.
Yeti, on the other hand, is seriously badass. I have this completely unfounded belief that if I come across a mountain lion, Bigfoot will protect me.
Well, not completely unfounded. I did have a dream about it. But I’ve also had a dream I was a zombie. So … yeah.
So why do I really believe in Sasquatch? Maybe because I have a feeling this creature is out there. But maybe also because there’s a part of me that hopes for more wilderness. Something a little more wild, undiscovered.
Or maybe it’s like how some people believe in God. I mean, I’m hiking through the forest hoping something I’ve never seen (or heard) will save me if I get attacked by a mountain lion.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m way into the higher power thing, but it’s still no three dimensional being, and Sasquatch is. I think.
Or maybe it’s this: Sasquatch is a part of me. The animal inside me that sees things for what they truly are. The one that closes its eyes in ecstasy at the taste of a good strawberry. The animal that loves nothing more than to pee next to a tree while listening to a river sing. And the beast that would let loose its battle cry when its life is threatened.
And because I’ve been divorced from that part of my being for so long, because we all have, Sasquatch is a story, a myth. Because we couldn’t possibly be that hedonistic. Or that selfish. Or that honest.
The ones who are, the ones who do believe, are just a bit crazy. Eccentric. And I guess I’m OK with that. I hope more people can be too. So cheers to Sasquatch and the animal in you and me!
