Bigfoot Truthers Turn On Their Leaders

November 15, 2012: Two unemployed brothers, Wes Germer and Woody Pratt, are mourning the loss of a relative, taking a late-night drive and parking alongside Yacolt Mountain in Washington State to talk.

Soon they notice heavy breathing and loud steps to their left, right, something hanging from a tree, another crawling to the car’s bumper.

The brothers were armed but dared not defend themselves nor just drive away. Instead, they reported a giant creature stepping forth, many yards before them—pacing, challenging, threatening—the details forever etched in the brothers’ minds. How the full moon revealed every aspect of the creature’s face and fingers, how it seemed to melt to the ground like a sprinter, ready to launch into an attack.

The brothers somehow survived that terrifying night, with Wes telling the respected Washington Sasquatch Research Team (WASRT.net) the next day, according to an email reviewed by The Daily Beast: “My brother and I were being encircled last night by them while in our car. We were on the back side of yacolt mt, kind of by sunset falls and we didn’t see 1 we saw 3…”

And so “Sasquatch Chronicles” was born: an interview and call-in podcast for believers to share their Bigfoot experiences, theories and warnings, launched in 2013. Easily the most popular online outlet about the creature (regularly, and ironically, ranking among the top 100 “science and medicine” podcasts), Wes and Woody’s frightful encounter had become legend. Featuring serious Bigfoot hunters and inadvertent witnesses as guests, as well as shocking stories of near-death experiences, “Sasquatch Chronicles” seemed more movement than mere podcast.

In order to listen to “Sasquatch Chronicles,” you had to accept two things: Bigfoot exists and it will kill you! There’s no middle-ground. This monster is to be feared, avoided. Seasoned hunters ended their accounts with, “I don’t even hunt anymore, and I only go into the woods armed…” Oh, and anyone who tries to interact with Bigfoot, offering gifts of food and receiving bones or other small tokens as thanks, was a “flute-player.” In hindsight, its message was cowardly, yet “Sasquatch Chronicles” simply offered too many spine-tingling experiences to miss a single episode.

“Sasquatch Chronicle’s” Facebook page further inflamed the arguments that raged around Bigfoot’s existence between new episodes. Ape? Undocumented hominid! Where are the bones? Bears don’t leave any and Bigfoot eat their own! There was a UFO sighting nearby too. Unrelated, UFOs are for sissies! They like Milwaukee’s Best in beer bread… Fluteplayer!

You must suspend all disbelief in order to listen to “Sasquatch Chronicles”—and I did. I am a Bigfoot addict, just ask my friends and watch their eyes roll. I dare say that I’ve had two near-misses with the legendary beast. The first was in 2005, mid-July on the Appalachian Trial in Cherokee National Forest. Awoken sore and early by rustling nearby, a strange force to my side, the sense of being stalked. I doubled my pace until I was jogging and huffing. There was a glint of light to my left, a pile of three feet high—Bigfoot lair? Empty antihistamine packets… Meth lab? Run! Heart and backpack pounding, I fled that forest.

My other experience was near Little Huckleberry Mountain, Skamania County in Washington State. Killing Bigfoot is illegal here but the damned things kept peeking at us. The corner of your eye catches a glimpse then it’s gone. We were picking mushrooms, so I can’t accurately vouch for anything else.

Turns out, I’m in illustrious company. ‘Survivorman’ Les Stroud and primatologist Jane Goodall both believe. Actor Jimmy Stewart made his wife spirit a Yeti finger-bone out of Nepal by hiding it in her undergarments.

But for every convert, there’s also a dastardly hoaxer. This may get me shot, but Roger Patterson was the absolute worst person to film a minute of supposed Bigfoot footage. He was a debtor and schemer, had recently self-published a book about the “abominable snowman” in America, and was making a documentary when the creature magically appeared at Bluff Creek. Oh and a guy named Bob Heironimus still claims that he was never paid the $1,000 Patterson promised him for wearing that ape costume. There’s also Rick Dyer—“The Best Bigfoot Tracker in the World” according to himself—who has been busted twice, caught dragging a mix of latex, foam and camel hair around Texas in a trailer last year, trying to charge $10 for a single Bigfoot viewing. After being outed, Dyer afforded, “It’s really easy to trick people…”

Hence the need for Bigfoot “experts.” Note that no one is an expert on Bigfoot, or any undocumented and highly elusive creature. Even the University of Phoenix doesn’t offer a degree in Cryptozoology. Yet I was deemed an expert, however briefly, appearing on “Sasquatch Chronicles” (Episode 66) to discuss my book, On Giants: Mounds, Monsters, Myth & Man. We talked literal tall tales on the show, trying to find connections between ancient giants like Goliath and the Bigfoot mystery of today. I told the listeners I found it illogical that other creatures didn’t join the migration across the ice bridge connecting Asia and North America. Beringia existed for over 50,000 years—how did Neanderthals, Gigantopithecus and other species not follow such a well-worn path and find a new home?