The Search for Bigfoot: A Secret Journal Exposed
We stumbled upon what appears to be a private daily journal detailing someone's spectacular adventure hunting the world's most notorious forest-dwelling beast: Bigfoot.
We copied it word-for-word and have decided to release it to the public.
I’m finally taking your advice. I'm leaving it all behind, and I’m headed into the woods for an extended period of time.
No, I’m not having a mid-life crisis.
No, I’m not going crazy.
I’m going to find Bigfoot.
I'm going to capture evidence of Sasquatch if it's the last thing I do. I'm going to find the elusive beast that has somehow evaded humanity for hundreds of years.
And then I'm gonna….Well, I'm gonna find him.
I’ll return with the truth, or I won’t return at all.
I’ve decided to keep a journal throughout my adventure. Every entry will be created with the intent that you, and only you, will see it, as you’ve been the only person who hasn’t mocked me, and ultimately shunned me, for my belief.
I know this doesn’t sound like me, and I know this isn’t exactly what you meant when you suggested I “take some time for myself,” so I assume you might have some inquiries.
But Ed, the first rule about squatch watchin’ is “No Askin’ Questions.”
What’s the second rule, you ask?
Well, you just broke rule number one, bud.
I wish I knew how to setup a tent.
That was definitely a two-person job.
I used it as a blanket instead. It got completely soaked, and so did all my clothes and snacks.
Also, I chafed horribly for hours.
Then I found the manual. I still don’t get it.
Salami was a fantastic idea. It’s a filling snack that’s perfect for enjoying outdoors. I don't think I'll tire of it anytime soon.
I can only handle it for so long. I really should have purchased more of a variety of meats. But listen, a great deal is a great deal, and I'm going to take a two'fer if the second one's free.
Also, I’m not sure why I brought my phone charger, as there aren’t any outlets in the woods, to my knowledge. I wonder if I could find a sweet treehouse with a generator or something.
I just found a large bundle of sticks resembling a teepee. I found a note duct-taped to the facade reading “Billy’s House: No Girls Aloud. Vilaters will be Punisht.”
While this may seem like a pathetic, childish attempt at shelter-creation, I believe that its poor construction was no accident.
What if Sasquatcht himself slapped that scribbled label on the exterior to discourage the shelter’s destruction and to prevent curious men like me from peeking inside?
I’ll find out tonight.
I messed up.
I should have taken Billy’s warning at face value.
After getting caught spying on the stick shelter with my binoculars by Billy’s father, I was mercilessly verbally assaulted and have been running and chafing through the forest for hours.
I didn’t commit a crime. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was simply trying to mind my own business. And if I didn’t do anything wrong, do I deserve to be chased?
Do I really deserve to be hunted?
Anyway, off to find Sasquatch.
I think I’m getting closer.
I found some shoe prints.
They’re wearing shoes now.
I woke up to some scratching against the tent that I just figured out how to put together.
I am very scared. However, I know that it’s not a bear, as there are no bears in Kentucky.
I got a splinter from doing wood knocks.
I also got a cute nickname from a couple of campers.
I stumbled upon a lost dog sign.
I found the owner, the one who posted the sign.
We took a little walk, and we ended up finding tracks. No, not bigfoot tracks. Dog tracks.
But here’s my question. Where’d the dog go?
I didn’t have the heart to tell him what I knew.
Should I have told him? Maybe I’ll tell him tomorrow. Nah, I’m not going to tell him.
Should I though?
I wandered out of the woods to a bigfoot organization meeting.
One man said he shot an 18 pointer.
He didn’t want to clean up the mess initially, so he put the buck in the garage. He walked to his garage the next morning to find NO buck, NO mess, and a bunch of friends who lost his respect.
Maybe we’re dealing with a bigger monster than we thought.
What am I going to do when I find him? I don’t have a net, and I’m not fast.
Are they fast? Of course they are. They haven’t been caught yet.
I should have been more prepared.
Started liquoring up early today, Ed.
Here’s the thing:
I don’t know much. But I do know one thing...and that’s that I’m a goddamn genius.
Today’s the day. I’ll explain later.
Never mind. My plan didn’t work.
I tried drawing a detailed picture of a female bigfoot with enlarged breasts and engorged butt to attract a male. I wish I was better at drawing. I also wish I was I was a little less confident when I’m drunk.
I wish I was better at a lot of things. You know?
Where the hell is he, Ed?
I know there are hundreds of animals out here. That’s science. But this ain’t science. This is the real world.
Something’s gotta give.
I’m getting good at this. No, I haven’t found him.
But I’ve been hunting Bigfoot off and on since the 90’s, so I think I know a thing or two about how we’re going to find one.
I don’t know what I rubbed up against, but I think I might die.
I hope that I die.
Please let me die.
Fucking kill me.
It was poison oak.
A hiker poured some whiskey on it, because he said it would “do the trick.”
I found a strand of hair caught in the zipper of my tent.
I lost it immediately.
I guess that’s what I get for not creating a map before setting out on an adventure.
Still lost. Thought I saw some golden arches.
I guess it was a mirage.
As I lay back and look up at the leaves and stars, I’m realizing that the mystery of bigfoot is all I have.
I thought I owned more and had more to care about, until I realized that I haven’t actually missed anything while I was gone.
Shouldn’t I crave the sanctity of my own home? Shouldn’t I long for time to commit to my passions? Maybe I don’t have any other passions. Maybe bowling.
I tried to set up the trail cam you gave me. I got some blurry photos of my face and of some nice young boys on their way to a “Grinder,” whatever that is. There’s something blurry in the background though.
It was another camera man! Turns out those boys were looking for “bears.” Strange coincidence.
I wonder where Bigfoot sleeps when it’s cold. Then again, I guess God made them for this kind of weather, with the fur and all.
I found a dog bone today. Not for a dog, but of a dog. It seems as though Sasquatch is not the vegetarian as I was hoping he’d be.
Where do Bigfoot go when they die?
Do they disintegrate faster than a human body? Has anyone tested that? Do other species bury them?
I guess some things were meant to remain a mystery forever.
I hitchhiked with a scientist today.
I managed to sneak in a few hard-hitting questions.
He suggested that with the given food supply: the lush vegetation, and the available meat, he thinks there could potentially be plenty of large, “apelike” creatures in these woods. But as far as Sasquatch go, saying there are hundreds is a little ridiculous....because there are almost definitely thousands.
Waiting is the hardest part.
There’s only so many times I can get my hopes up. But I’m starting to think that it’s the only way to find him.
I’m realizing that getting close to catching him is so much worse than not getting close. It’s unfortunate that a realization like this comes to light so slowly.
Sure, I have evidence to continue my own belief. But it’s not enough to convince others to start. I’m chasing the dragon here.
Well, there aren’t dragons in the woods, but you get it.
The truth is, the more I search, the less I hope I find him.
Because I no longer think I’m here to find the beast. I’m here to find myself.
But I also do still definitely need to find him though. Definitely.
Boredom is much worse than business.
I can’t take this much longer.
What am I even doing anymore?
I think I’m done, Ed.
I found him.
But you were right when you said that I’d never find him the way I wanted to.
He stared up at me, still as a boulder, but ready to dash at any second.
Fish in hand, vulnerable and desperate, wearing what seemed to be used Nike Monarchs. We both knew that his power, his privacy, and his mystery had been stolen by my lust for discovery.
The fleeting joy, the blissful jolt of long-awaited accomplishment, immediately vanished. That moment, the second I had dreamed of for decades, that fraction of time that I thought would define me, that would set me apart from the rest of the world, was flooded with a deep sadness I could not shake and a piercing sword of truth that signified the end of the journey. The journey that defined me.
I finally realized that the fantasy of the capture that had played over and over again in my mind for years was exactly that.
In dreams, the scenes of the capture and the fame that the evidence would provide were seconds apart and glorious. Indisputable and accompanied by excited reporters, book deals, and unparalleled respect that would be passed on to you and your children. But just as fantasy can alter reality, I’ve recently discovered that the opposite is true.
Sometimes truth grabs you by the heart, rips away your dreams, the beliefs and the reasons you had them, and replaces it with an alternate perspective. A perspective not known by many, as it takes a certain light to find it.
In my case, it was just a regular flashlight.
Dearest Ed, the thrill of the hunt has been replaced by the crushing finality of the find. Instead of a dream, I have a responsibility.
Instead of a deep desire to expose, a need to protect.
Instead of a culmination of a lifelong dream, a weighing fear that I’ve carelessly damaged the sanctity of someone else’s silence.
Humanity is a greedy word, as it is defined by feelings that our arrogance assumes no other living creature has. But humanity existed in him.
I felt it.
He knew I felt it, Ed.
I saw myself in him. Two creatures.
Together. But alone.
Large. But afraid.
On a singular journey that reached an end that wasn’t nearly as climactic as it perhaps should have been.
I saw myself in him. Unkempt.
Desperate to find a way to blend in seamlessly with an environment that simply isn’t suitable.
Here’s the thing, Ed.
No one knows who I am. No one knows the real me.
Sure, I might be known throughout the community as an above average, slightly above average bowler. But Ed, I’m much more than that.
In order for me to show the light on others, I too must be willing to bring forth the beast within.
I had been saying it all along without understanding.
The mystery of Sasquatch was all I had.
Therefore I now have nothing.
I am retiring to the woods.
I feel as though I am now the true father of the forest, and I cannot leave my child unprotected.
Please do not come find me.
I do not want to be found.
I just realized something.
A simple man like me couldn’t possibly be the only one who has seen the glorious sight of the Sasquatch and decided not to show the evidence.
The experience was enlightening and disturbing all at once. But the decision to refrain from showcasing the evidence was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.
There’s plenty of evidence. It’s just been hidden again.
Ed, my will is strange but noble.
To Sasquatch: I give thanks and freedom.
For no great world can exist without myth.
Ed, you can have my bowling trophies.