A Work of Fiction: The Encounter

When I first told my family about the encounter, they didn’t believe me, and really…How could I blame them. 

“Bigfoot?  Was I having a brain fart?  Had I been drinking?”

I wish that I could have told them, “Yes.”  The truth though, is that I was sober and had full reign of my thoughts.

It was mid September and I was trekking through the Huron National Forest enjoying the sights and the sounds of nature around me.  It had been a hectic week at work with a busy schedule of inflexible deadlines and uncooperative people.  I just needed some time away to unwind and regroup for the week ahead.

Hiking is a favorite pastime, one that allows me to clear my head, get some needed exercise, and helps me to refocus.  As an amateur bird watcher, I was also hoping to catch a glimpse of a Kirtland’s Warbler, before it left its summer home among the Jack Pines of Northern Michigan, to winter in the sunny Bahamas. 

High overhead the afternoon sun warmed my surroundings to a delightful sixty five degrees while the aroma of pine sap and moss blended together to create an intoxicating scent that no perfumery could duplicate.   It was peaceful and relaxing in the shade of the pines.  Their needles blanketed the ground like a rich carpet and I made not a sound as I trekked along.

Chickadees, White and Red-Breasted Nuthatches, and Brown Creepers flew about gleaning insects from the bark of the trees as I walked, while Black Squirrels and Chipmunks gathered items from the forest floor before scampering their treasures away to the tree tops and ground holes.  They didn’t treat me as an intruder, as I came upon them by scolding me, but seemed to sense my need for peace and let me continue on my way without raising alarm.

About an hour into my hike I stopped and while taking a drink from my water bottle, saw a flicker of yellow fly by and land in a pine not very far from me.  Returning my bottle to my backpack, I picked up the binoculars around my neck and zoomed in on the bird. “Yes.” I whispered.  It was a Kirtland’s Warbler; black streaks on the gray back, yellow sides and the white eye rings.  I was seeing one for the first time and I smiled in pride at my good fortune.  Taking out my little field journal I noted the date, time, and area of my sighting.  I was geeked!  I could face the week ahead by remembering the victory I had encountered on the trail. 

Happy at my success I began to whistle as I hiked along going deeper into the forest where the trees grew dense and the sun peeked through their boughs only here and there.  The temperature dropped because of the shade but the coolness felt good so I persisted, following the trail downward, into a valley like area.  I continued on this course for about an hour, surprised that I did not meet another hiker on the trail.  Typically I run into someone and it is always fun to find out how long they have been hiking, where they are from and so on.  It kind of breaks up the day, sharing hiking encounters, but so far that pleasure was not to be mine.

Deciding to take a break and rest a bit, before heading back to my car, as it was a little over an hour trek out, I sat on a felled tree and munched on an apple and a protein bar, enjoying the serene environment around me.  Popping the remainder of the bar into my mouth, I was surprised to feel the hair on the nape of my neck rise. 

Instantly blood rushed to my face and my ears got hot and I knew, before I even turned to look behind me, that I was no longer alone.  Unable to swallow, because of my fear, I spit the food out of my mouth, tossing the apple core away before stuffing the protein bar wrapper into my jeans pocket, and removing the binoculars from around my neck, and stowing them away in my backpack.   My heart raced within my chest and blood was pounding through my head and I could not hear anything but a thudding sound as it hammered at my temples.  “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!” was all that kept going through my mind.  It was like I was screaming it, but on the inside. 

Trying to appear nonchalant, I picked up my pack and put it on my back, because I wanted to be ready to run if I needed to, before looking to see who my visitor was.

I shall never forget, as long as I live, the shock of seeing what I saw.  Watching me from about 100 yards and leaning next to a tree, was what I can only describe as a Bigfoot.  It was tall, at least two feet over my five foot eight frame and its shoulders appeared very broad. It was covered from head to toe with dark brownish black hair and its eyes seemed yellow to me, but honestly, I just freaked at what I was seeing.  “This can’t be real, this can’t be real.  Oh my God, this can’t be real.  I’ve got to get out of here!”

Turning around I began to walk away real fast.  I have heard about people encountering what they think is a Bigfoot, but I was always so sure they had just seen a sick bear or something.  No way, were they real, or more people would have seen them, and hunters or hikers would have found their dead carcasses or something.  I did not look behind me again, but once I hit the trail, I was running.  I ran like the wind.  It was so amazing, like I was not in hiking boots or carrying a backpack on my back.  It seemed that my feet didn’t even touch the ground as I ran, and all I could think of over and over was, “I’ve seen Bigfoot.” and “Do they hurt people?” 

I ran non stop for an hour.  I don’t know where my stamina came from, but at the time, I was not even tired.  Adrenalin is amazing stuff. I slowed to a jog as I neared the forest entrance.  I could tell I was getting close because I could hear vehicles from the main highway.  It was only then, as I neared the parking lot and could see my car, did I slow down and have a look behind me.  Much to my relief I was quite alone. 

As I opened my trunk and stowed my gear inside I was gripped with fear anew as a wailing howling sound pierced the afternoon causing my stomach to flip flop and my legs to shake uncontrollably. The sound was coming from just inside the forest in the same direction I had just emerged from.  Slamming the trunk down, I raced to the driver’s side as fast as my shaking legs would take me.

Locking the doors as soon as I was inside, I shoved my key into the ignition, started the car and jammed that baby into reverse, before sending gravel flying as I peeled out of the parking lot.  Not once did I look in my revere mirror.  Not once.  Driving away I felt eerie knowing that the thing had kept up with me on my run.  It bothered me that, even now; I was probably being watched as I sped down the road that ran along the side of the forest.

My mind raced with questions and I wondered about the creature I had encountered.  What kind of beast was it really?  I mean so few people have actually reported seeing one, at least I think the numbers are few, I had never really given it much thought.  In all the years that I have hiked in different locations around the U.S. it never occurred to me that I might happen upon a Bigfoot.  Snakes, spiders, bear, and coyote maybe, even wolves and cougars, but never Bigfoot.  I was astonished that I had actually seen one and I couldn’t wait to tell my family about it.  They probably wouldn’t believe me but I know what I saw and, at this moment, that was all that mattered.

On my return home I rushed in to tell my family the news and they just laughed hysterically and said, “Sure ya did.”   No amount of ‘I swear’ or pleading changed their opinion.  I was cracked and that was that.

 Needing to find someone who would believe me about what I saw, I went to the internet and typed in Bigfoot in the search engine and I found a research organization that studies sightings.  I was excited to read about other encounters similar to mine, but more that that, I was happy to hear that I was not alone, in this phenomenon. 

Does Bigfoot exist?  Before a September day not too long ago I would have said, “Absolutely not.”  Now I just smile.