Before I get anyone's hopes up, I don't mean my first contact with the mythical beast known as bigfoot. If that did happen, the first place I turn to would most likely not be my blog but rather my apartment for a change of pants.
Today I got an e-mail from a woman calling herself Vilnoori (she asked her real identity be hidden). She seems to be a regular participant on the Bigfoot Forums. She found my work e-mail address on a post I had made there asking for people in the Mt. Baker to talk to about bigfoot. Her e-mail to me concisely and clearly explained an alleged bigfoot experience she had had in a wooded area near Sumas, Washington, which is about half an hour east of Blaine. She even included photos.
She told me that a few years ago on a walk in the woods near Sumas, she came across some (to her eyes, at least) larger-than-human footprints in the mud and a few large broken branches. She said the larger of the two footprints was 17 inches long and the smaller was about 10 inches. While in this area, she also heard a strange humming sound she described as like that "...made by a large child inside a hollow culvert." She also found a tree that had been pushed over and a collection of small pebbles piled up in a nearby creek.
While she admitted she was on the fence about the existence of bigfoot, she did offer a possible explanation for the scene she came across. She suspected it might have been a play area of sorts for a young bigfoot accompanied by its mother, thus explaining the varying sizes of footprint and the broken branches.
The photos she included in the e-mail, while appreciated, didn't really show much of anything. The size of the human-like footprints was unclear, and the pile of pebbles in the stream was out of focus. I sent her an e-mail asking some questions about the circumstances of her discovery. I eagerly await her reply.
To sum up, Vilnoori seems to have seen something she did not immediately understand and has done her best to explain it given the available information. That's really all anyone can ask of someone who has experienced something unusual. Her story is not proof of bigfoot living in the area by any means, but I appreciate that she made the effort to come to me and say: I don't know what this, here's what I think, and here are some pictures. I hope everyone I meet while researching this story is as helpful and reasonable as she has been.
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Hunting Bigfoot: The Journey Begins
Before I begin discussing the search for an allegedly extant bipedal primate in the forests of my adoptive home of Washington, I want to make one thing clear: I am a skeptic when it comes to bigfoot. Hell, I'm a skeptic when it comes to anything for which their is scant or no evidence. The existence of the "paranormal" would indeed be interesting, but I, like many others, need some hard evidence to back up the host of paranormal claims out there.
With that said, I have had an interest in the cultural phenomenon known as bigfoot since I was child. It's that interest and a recent assignment at work that have lead me to write this post.
Point Roberts Press, the publishers of The Northern Light, also puts out a quarterly publication called Mount Baker Experience, which covers outdoor-type activities in the Mt. Baker foothills area. Our Winter 2011 issue is coming up, and I pitched the loosely formed idea of writing an article about bigfoot hunting in the foothills area.
The point of this post and subsequent ones is to keep the audience of this blog, if there is one, updated on the status of this particular story. I am doing this for the bigfoot article because the topic and those intent on finding the creature are of particular interest to me. So, without further ado, here's what I've done so far.
My search first brought me to BigfootForums.com, an online forum where all manner of bigfoot-interested folk can come and discuss sightings of the creature all across the U.S. and dish on investigative techniques and equipment. My first cursory perusing of this site turned up pretty much what I expected: people who genuinely believe something is out there and have devoted varying sections of there lives to finding out what it is.
From this site I became aware of a book published in 1995 called "Where Bigfoot Walks: Crossing the dark Divide," which is about a rather well-known encounter with a group of alleged bigfoots (bigfeet?) near Mt. St. Helens in the early 1900s. At least it seems to be, I have yet to read it. The author, Robert Michael Pyle, still lives in Washington and runs The Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation. I sent an e-mail to the group's e-mail address asking for contacts for any bigfoot "investigators" in the Mt. Baker area. I have yet to see a reply.
Further investigation of the Bigfoot Forums lead me to the Washington Sasquatch Research Team based in the Mt. Rainier area. I e-mailed Steve Schauer, one of the founding Steves of the WSRT, about research and sightings in the Mt. Baker area. He said he did not know of any groups poking around on Mt. Baker and that his group sticks to Mt. Rainier.
Long story short, I have not made much headway for this story. Hopefully the weeks to come will provide me with some usable leads.
With that said, I have had an interest in the cultural phenomenon known as bigfoot since I was child. It's that interest and a recent assignment at work that have lead me to write this post.
Point Roberts Press, the publishers of The Northern Light, also puts out a quarterly publication called Mount Baker Experience, which covers outdoor-type activities in the Mt. Baker foothills area. Our Winter 2011 issue is coming up, and I pitched the loosely formed idea of writing an article about bigfoot hunting in the foothills area.
The point of this post and subsequent ones is to keep the audience of this blog, if there is one, updated on the status of this particular story. I am doing this for the bigfoot article because the topic and those intent on finding the creature are of particular interest to me. So, without further ado, here's what I've done so far.
My search first brought me to BigfootForums.com, an online forum where all manner of bigfoot-interested folk can come and discuss sightings of the creature all across the U.S. and dish on investigative techniques and equipment. My first cursory perusing of this site turned up pretty much what I expected: people who genuinely believe something is out there and have devoted varying sections of there lives to finding out what it is.
From this site I became aware of a book published in 1995 called "Where Bigfoot Walks: Crossing the dark Divide," which is about a rather well-known encounter with a group of alleged bigfoots (bigfeet?) near Mt. St. Helens in the early 1900s. At least it seems to be, I have yet to read it. The author, Robert Michael Pyle, still lives in Washington and runs The Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation. I sent an e-mail to the group's e-mail address asking for contacts for any bigfoot "investigators" in the Mt. Baker area. I have yet to see a reply.
Further investigation of the Bigfoot Forums lead me to the Washington Sasquatch Research Team based in the Mt. Rainier area. I e-mailed Steve Schauer, one of the founding Steves of the WSRT, about research and sightings in the Mt. Baker area. He said he did not know of any groups poking around on Mt. Baker and that his group sticks to Mt. Rainier.
Long story short, I have not made much headway for this story. Hopefully the weeks to come will provide me with some usable leads.
Friday, September 24, 2010
My First Non-School Day First Day of School
This Wednesday marked yet another first day of college for thousands of students attending Western Washington University in Bellingham. Books were purchased, classes were decided, and Red Square was once again filled with almost-adults skittering about to their proper classrooms.
Along with the 2,500 or so freshmen and transfers who counted Wednesday as their first day at Western, I experienced a completely different kind of first. Wednesday was the first day that I did not have to go back to Western. This year, school started without me because I am now a college graduate.
This day has of course been on the horizon since I graduated from Western on August 21. it has been on my mind quite a bit recently, however, mostly because of my girlfriend who is currently still a student at Western. Through her, I have gotten to experience all the usual stress and enjoyment of starting a new school year at Western: buying books, figuring out classes, getting to know roommates.
But now I've graduated. With no plans to go to graduate school in the near future, I can now enjoy my life without the worry of tests, homework or any arbitrary deadlines, such as the end of a quarter. While I work roughly 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day, my evenings have become surprisingly free. I sometimes find it hard to find something to do with myself.
And that's where the nostalgia of student life has already begun to sink in. The last four years of my life have been dedicated to learning, first and foremost. Despite all the various stresses, both academic and not, college brings, I have genuinely enjoyed the learning opportunities given to me.
But now I'm out of college. My life from now on has an entirely new set of priorities. Learning for learning's sake unfortunately has the tendency to slip down the list in situations like this. I have realized encouraging myself to learn more about subjects that interest me, such as journalism and science, is entirely up to me.
At first, this realization seemed daunting to me. But after a full month of it setting in, I have decided to make it a challenge for myself. Though my college career is behind me, I pledge not to allow my love of knowledge to follow in-step.
Along with the 2,500 or so freshmen and transfers who counted Wednesday as their first day at Western, I experienced a completely different kind of first. Wednesday was the first day that I did not have to go back to Western. This year, school started without me because I am now a college graduate.
This day has of course been on the horizon since I graduated from Western on August 21. it has been on my mind quite a bit recently, however, mostly because of my girlfriend who is currently still a student at Western. Through her, I have gotten to experience all the usual stress and enjoyment of starting a new school year at Western: buying books, figuring out classes, getting to know roommates.
But now I've graduated. With no plans to go to graduate school in the near future, I can now enjoy my life without the worry of tests, homework or any arbitrary deadlines, such as the end of a quarter. While I work roughly 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day, my evenings have become surprisingly free. I sometimes find it hard to find something to do with myself.
And that's where the nostalgia of student life has already begun to sink in. The last four years of my life have been dedicated to learning, first and foremost. Despite all the various stresses, both academic and not, college brings, I have genuinely enjoyed the learning opportunities given to me.
But now I'm out of college. My life from now on has an entirely new set of priorities. Learning for learning's sake unfortunately has the tendency to slip down the list in situations like this. I have realized encouraging myself to learn more about subjects that interest me, such as journalism and science, is entirely up to me.
At first, this realization seemed daunting to me. But after a full month of it setting in, I have decided to make it a challenge for myself. Though my college career is behind me, I pledge not to allow my love of knowledge to follow in-step.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Run 542
Before I get anyone's hopes up with that title, I want to say upfront that I did not attempt the 8.5 miles and 1,500 feet of elevation gain today as I have been saying I would for the last week. So this post will not be a re-cap of my experiences up there, as I initially thought it would be.
I chose not to run, and here's why.
For anyone not familiar, Run 542 is part of the larger event known as Festival 542 that is taking place this weekend along the Mt. Baker Highway (state route 542). The focus of the event is a 24.5 mile bike ride that starts in Glacier, WA, and ends at Artist Point; roughly 4,000 feet from the ride's beginning. The run starts near the beginning of the bike ride and winds its way up to Artist Point on a series of trails in the Mount Baker Ski Area and the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.
Here's a map of the run. The steepness of some of its ascents really cannot be expressed accurately in words.
When I was first given the opportunity to participate in the run one week before it was scheduled to happen, I was hesitant but still extremely excited. Though my trail-running experience was almost nonexistent, I still felt, based on my previous backpacking experience, I could do the run in a reasonable amount of time. The friends and co-workers to whom I told the idea seemed surprised at my decision to do the run but also generally supportive.
Plus, I had never been up the Mt. Baker Highway. I felt the trip was one I needed to make to be a real Washingtonian, and I could not imagine a better way to do it than the run.
As the event drew closer, however, self doubt began to grow within me. I knew of a trail near Fairhaven in Bellingham, the Pine and Cedar Lake trail, that would just about simulate the conditions of the Mt. Baker run. The P and C trail is 1.6 miles and goes nearly straight up in the beginning, reaching an elevation gain of 1,300 feet. I thought that if I could do this trail a few times comfortably, I could just make the Mt. Baker run.
Though I had traversed this trail in the past with a friend, it seemed steeper than I remembered when I attempted it again last Wednesday. By about halfway, I had to turn back. My leg muscles were aching, and I was getting a little dizzy. I drove back home that night feeling disappointed in myself and more than a little sore.
As the weekend drew ever closer, I began to seriously think about why I felt the need to do this. I realized that from the beginning, I was never really doing this for me. I think because of all the people I told about it, I felt I would be letting them down if I decided not to go through with it; even as the reality of the Mt. Baker run being eight times what I could not do on Wednesday set in.
I finally made the concrete decision Saturday morning to not attempt the Mt. Baker run. I did, however, return to the P and C trail and completed one circuit. I was able to make it up and down again, about 3.4 miles, in roughly one hour and 15 minutes. Achieving this made me feel less bad about not going through with the Mt. Baker run. I averaged about 2 miles per hour, which is pretty good for me.
I returned to the P and C trail because, despite my self-disappointment, jogging the trail on Wednesday was genuinely fun. Trail running, I confirmed this morning, is definitely something of which I want to do more. Therein lies another reason I did not attempt Run 542: I did not want to start my experience in trail-running with a trip that would have most likely all but destroyed me. I did not want to have that sort of negative association with this budding hobby of mine.
Put simply, I just did not think I was ready for Run 542. There's always next year. Until then, I plan to keep running.
I chose not to run, and here's why.
For anyone not familiar, Run 542 is part of the larger event known as Festival 542 that is taking place this weekend along the Mt. Baker Highway (state route 542). The focus of the event is a 24.5 mile bike ride that starts in Glacier, WA, and ends at Artist Point; roughly 4,000 feet from the ride's beginning. The run starts near the beginning of the bike ride and winds its way up to Artist Point on a series of trails in the Mount Baker Ski Area and the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.
Here's a map of the run. The steepness of some of its ascents really cannot be expressed accurately in words.
When I was first given the opportunity to participate in the run one week before it was scheduled to happen, I was hesitant but still extremely excited. Though my trail-running experience was almost nonexistent, I still felt, based on my previous backpacking experience, I could do the run in a reasonable amount of time. The friends and co-workers to whom I told the idea seemed surprised at my decision to do the run but also generally supportive.
Plus, I had never been up the Mt. Baker Highway. I felt the trip was one I needed to make to be a real Washingtonian, and I could not imagine a better way to do it than the run.
As the event drew closer, however, self doubt began to grow within me. I knew of a trail near Fairhaven in Bellingham, the Pine and Cedar Lake trail, that would just about simulate the conditions of the Mt. Baker run. The P and C trail is 1.6 miles and goes nearly straight up in the beginning, reaching an elevation gain of 1,300 feet. I thought that if I could do this trail a few times comfortably, I could just make the Mt. Baker run.
Though I had traversed this trail in the past with a friend, it seemed steeper than I remembered when I attempted it again last Wednesday. By about halfway, I had to turn back. My leg muscles were aching, and I was getting a little dizzy. I drove back home that night feeling disappointed in myself and more than a little sore.
As the weekend drew ever closer, I began to seriously think about why I felt the need to do this. I realized that from the beginning, I was never really doing this for me. I think because of all the people I told about it, I felt I would be letting them down if I decided not to go through with it; even as the reality of the Mt. Baker run being eight times what I could not do on Wednesday set in.
I finally made the concrete decision Saturday morning to not attempt the Mt. Baker run. I did, however, return to the P and C trail and completed one circuit. I was able to make it up and down again, about 3.4 miles, in roughly one hour and 15 minutes. Achieving this made me feel less bad about not going through with the Mt. Baker run. I averaged about 2 miles per hour, which is pretty good for me.
I returned to the P and C trail because, despite my self-disappointment, jogging the trail on Wednesday was genuinely fun. Trail running, I confirmed this morning, is definitely something of which I want to do more. Therein lies another reason I did not attempt Run 542: I did not want to start my experience in trail-running with a trip that would have most likely all but destroyed me. I did not want to have that sort of negative association with this budding hobby of mine.
Put simply, I just did not think I was ready for Run 542. There's always next year. Until then, I plan to keep running.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Head East on Badger Road
The title of this post is a a paraphrase of one of the directions Google Maps gave me today. I was trying to find a place called Sumas International Motorsport Academy in, surprisingly enough, Sumas, Washington.
This line stuck with me because going west is often colloquially used to denote going on some sort of adventure, or more generally, the spirit to travel into the unknown. Hundreds of thousands of not-quite-yet Americans did it to make this country what it is today. Before that, even larger numbers crammed their families onto boats or struck out on their own to find what they could find across that vast alien world we call the ocean.
On this occasion, however, I was heading east to some place I had never been; east across a state, like many others, whose very existence is owed to the idea of "going west." What I found going east genuinely surprised me and made me excited to discover what else my adoptive home has to offer in all directions of travel.
While heading east, I was shocked all over again at the sheer amount of green that covers Washington. A sort of green that wills itself into your field of vision. For someone raised in the browns and tans of Las Vegas, Washington's landscape says one thing:
"The Pacific Northwest is verdant, dammit, get used to it."
I found that the area's natural green is only one of its many shades. There is also a green that people have created and now tend: the green of agriculture. Perhaps it was just the road over which I traveled, but eastern Whatcom County seems to be filled with corn fields. Such fields even skirted my eventual destination, which brings me to my next observation from today.
Washington is a land of near-opposite juxtapositions. The rolling hills and grasses of eastern Washington next to the snow-capped peaks of the Cascades. The natural emerald of the state's forests with the man-made green of fields upon fields of corn and other crops. And today, I experienced one more to add to the list:
The tranquil, pastoral setting of a farm next to the tiny roaring engines of a racing kart track.
Of course, the karts were sleeping today on my visit to Sumas International Motorsport Academy. But the upcoming weekends will awaken them once again, and the ever-present smell of the dairy farm will mingle with that of burning rubber.
And because it's Washington, the two will fit together.
What's my point here with this long-winded description of about one and a half hours worth of driving? It's this: Washingtonians, both native-born and transplanted, should get out and explore their magnificent state. Pick up a compass, pick a direction, and just go.
You will not be disappointed.
This line stuck with me because going west is often colloquially used to denote going on some sort of adventure, or more generally, the spirit to travel into the unknown. Hundreds of thousands of not-quite-yet Americans did it to make this country what it is today. Before that, even larger numbers crammed their families onto boats or struck out on their own to find what they could find across that vast alien world we call the ocean.
On this occasion, however, I was heading east to some place I had never been; east across a state, like many others, whose very existence is owed to the idea of "going west." What I found going east genuinely surprised me and made me excited to discover what else my adoptive home has to offer in all directions of travel.
While heading east, I was shocked all over again at the sheer amount of green that covers Washington. A sort of green that wills itself into your field of vision. For someone raised in the browns and tans of Las Vegas, Washington's landscape says one thing:
"The Pacific Northwest is verdant, dammit, get used to it."
I found that the area's natural green is only one of its many shades. There is also a green that people have created and now tend: the green of agriculture. Perhaps it was just the road over which I traveled, but eastern Whatcom County seems to be filled with corn fields. Such fields even skirted my eventual destination, which brings me to my next observation from today.
Washington is a land of near-opposite juxtapositions. The rolling hills and grasses of eastern Washington next to the snow-capped peaks of the Cascades. The natural emerald of the state's forests with the man-made green of fields upon fields of corn and other crops. And today, I experienced one more to add to the list:
The tranquil, pastoral setting of a farm next to the tiny roaring engines of a racing kart track.
Of course, the karts were sleeping today on my visit to Sumas International Motorsport Academy. But the upcoming weekends will awaken them once again, and the ever-present smell of the dairy farm will mingle with that of burning rubber.
And because it's Washington, the two will fit together.
What's my point here with this long-winded description of about one and a half hours worth of driving? It's this: Washingtonians, both native-born and transplanted, should get out and explore their magnificent state. Pick up a compass, pick a direction, and just go.
You will not be disappointed.
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