Our story so far….

Early On:

I live in east-central California, just below the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  A couple of years ago, I saw a bigfoot standing just beside and behind a tree by the side of the road in broad daylight.  Hand wrapped around the tree, shortish brown hair all in its face, about six feet tall, and it was certainly no bear.  Others with me also saw it.  That got me started.

After reading many online accounts of  sightings and experiences, many books, and miles of web pages on the topic, it was clear that I’d actually, somehow, seen a bigfoot.  And nobody really knew what a a bigfoot was.  No available explanation or theory seemed  satisfactory.

When I first became interested, I watched tons of videos and read all the reports I could find.   I started taking my own pictures, and I went over each one inch by inch.  I eventually was able to see them in photos.

I had so many photos I deleted some to make room for new ones, then deleted most in an effort “to quit” the obsession.  So I may say I had a video, I had a picture…that is why I cannot produce what I may refer to.

One thing I noticed in photos is that they often seem to have sort of sparkles around them.  Maybe it’s flies or something.    Look for the little dots, then look for the squatch.

Also, weirdness upon , there seemed to be something with a spotted pattern on it, something large that I could not quite figure out.

Some seemed like they were …. blue.   I wondered if they reflect colors or something.

Some seemed like they had their faces painted white, sometimes with red or black designs on them.  I used to have a great picture of one who was squatting behind a bush across the canal.  I didn’t know he was there or even see him,  but I bent down to shoot a pic from low down, and caught him unawares.  He had the painted face thing.   Clear as day.    Once I looked up at the cinderblock wall as  I was about to get something from my car, and  saw two or three heads, just the top half, and it was the cone shaped kind of head.  They skin that was showing seemed to have greasy painted red stripes across the forehead.  Like the carved wooden masks of the NW coast Native Americans.  Those masks look like that for a reason.

At the canal spot outside of town, one said “hello” to me.  Got it on video.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzNw4Qj8f7g&list=UUzHTPSDyaiCUqr6mktXNXhQ   At about 45 seconds.

Once, one of my children and I saw two standing, looking at us looking at them, silhouetted against a screen of leaves.   Looking at us looking at them.  One had his foot resting up on a log.

At a “gifting spot” I found a doll made of twisted straw or stems, about three feet tall.  It seems to resemble me in some ways.  What does the red cloth mean?  I don’t know, but a Hmong friend advised me to get rid of it.  As a matter of fact, about everything that could go wrong has gone wrong this year.   I wonder if there is actually a connection?  Naw . . . . .right?doll

I was shadowed at another canal spot north of here but also in town.  I got the hint, and left.  As I did so, it was snapping sticks at me and following along at the side, which pissed me off, so I snapped branches right back at him.

Venturing out

I went out to take my own pictures.  I found nearby areas where I thought they lived.  I started to recognize stick structures and  trail signs.   I tried gifting; singing; hanging out, blowing bubbles; playing instruments; drawing on surfaces and notepads; leaving them chalk, markers, and paper;  whistling; leaving stick signs and little replica stick structures and shelters; talking to them; dancing; and other foolishness.

If  they were out there, they did not want my food and just threw it around.  Edible gifts were scorned, as were some other things.  I offered them, at various  times, spools of red ribbon, rolls of wire for construction, cordage, large loops of ribbon with large sparkly glass crystal beads, salt, honey, coins, marbles, chicken livers, giant sunglasses, balls, large hats, fleece, and bubble juice.  I demonstrated use of bubble juice.

They would take accidentally abandoned items.  So, I pretended to leave things behind, “dropped” them, got them to fall out of the car as I left, and so on.

They did whistle back quite often and made loud animal sounds, like horse whinnies.  Once when I was about to get in the car, I gave a last whistle, and the treetops broke out in a chorus of whistles.  If that was any indication of how many there are, there are plenty.

The bigfoot were clearly there.  I thought they were real, but not “spirit beings.”    My original canal spot was a friendly place, but other places felt less hospitable.  In fact, after a time, I thought they were mostly scary and creepy and began to think they were more dangerous than we’d like to admit.

Habituation or infestation?

They followed me home apparently.  Or something.  The oldest daughter is very lovely, goddesslike, in fact, and they liked to tap on her window.  They liked to tap on my window.  Two house slams my skeptic husband cannot explain.

I tried a camera in the yard and motion sensitive lights, and that only worked for a couple of weeks.  I  put X markers below the windows and attached motion sensitive alarms on the inside of the windows, which do seem to deter them.

I later doubted my wisdom when I suddenly realized  the X markers might have told them I knew about them, and I’m still not sure if that was such a good idea.   I get the idea from all the little annoyances that they know we know they are here.

There were sounds of somethings running and walking up on the roof.   We made jokes about “roof rats,” but clearly rats running across our asphalt shingles could never make that volume of racket.  We  experienced tapping on windows and had what must  have been pebbles thrown at windows at 3 AM and many other small disturbances.   Then there was a big, blurry shadow cast by something on the roof that was not part of the roof , seen in photos but not noticed at the time they were taken.

And so then they just threw stuff instead of tapping.   They threw smallish pebbles at the windows.  Click, clack, clickety clink.  Sometimes they threw pretty big pebbles that landed with a startlingly loud crack on the panes of glass.

My youngest would weave wreathes from long willowy branches, and add blue feathers she’d found.  Then three dead blue jays, carefully positioned and lined up in a row waiting for her after school.   That was chilling.

Apparently my oldest continued to have scratching and tapping until pretty recently.

They don’t holler or whoop around town, and I don’t smell them, at least not much, not often.  I think they might be smoking in my backyard, though.  Unless that is a dogman….

Trouble brewing

IT was then I found the little doll thingy and brought it home.  I see in retrospect that it was a cursed object, but I didn’t even think such things really existed at the time, at least not around here.  That year everything went wrong.  I don’t want to overshare personal information, but it was a very tough time for me.

Eventually, pebbles landing on my bedroom window became a real problem.  It was happening about once every thirty minutes around the clock.  It was frightening and sometimes I slept with the light on.  To cover the sounds of roof creaks and window clacks, I often turned on my large air purifier we call the blast furnace because it is so loud.

My youngest child saw bigfoot more frequently than  I, and that worried me.  Then she said she was scared to sleep in her bed because the bed moved when it shouldn’t.  Now, that freaked me out.  Oh boy.

That is about when I was adding up my bits and pieces of information and coming up with an ominous answer.


You might not agree with the answers I got.  But I don’t see anyone getting answers we can all agree on.    So, yes, there is something out there.  And it’s not something good.

I think we can all agree bigfoot easily becomes an obsession that takes your energy, takes time away from family and work, and costs money.  You don’t have to believe in curses or demonic infestations to see this as a bad thing.  Face it, this is a problem, like gambling or an addiction, that needs to be handled with maturity and moderation but often isn’t.

I have only heard three rocks on the window in the last three months.  I believe I know what it is that is out there, why it’s there, and how to handle it, so my curiosity is satisfied.    I don’t think about them much anymore and hope I never see one again.   I sleep better, can leave the window open and the light off, don’t need the fan, and have the answers it took me so long to find.


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