Monday, July 5, 2010

Part 1 - Intro yo!

Reading a story about someone who went looking for bigfoot means that you don’t have to skip to the end to find out what happened. I might not have found the big smelly guy but bigfoot sure did find me. Much like some discover the power of Jesus, I was suddenly consumed with the idea to go on the ultimate camping trip for bigfoot. Stopping wherever I felt, tracking down any mystery that crossed my path! I'd be getting my tits wet in bigfooting and testing myself against weird unknown forces. It all seemed pretty necessary to me at the time.
alcohol has fueled countless crappy dreams
In the summer of 2005 I left Long Beach, California on a shabbily packed moped and headed 3,000 miles off into bigfoot country. You are about to read the story of my first attempt at “squatching” otherwise known as "looking for bigfoot".
                                             photo by Dave Clark

 As a kid, I always liked bigfoot but I thought there was just one and it probably died long ago. I got a little older, read Ivan T Sanderson’s landmark book on the subject and figured there had to be more to these bigfoot legends. 'Twasnt long before my bookshelf was filled with books by modern day bigfoot researchers.

  While reading about modern day bigfoot hunters, I realized they seemed to have the worst luck out of all the other “hunters”. Most do not carry guns, instead opting for lightweight video, game, and thermal cameras. Unfortunately when they get their shot, it's blurry, too far away or is a buddy in a bad suit. Being no stranger to shooting blurry footage I figured this crap is right up my alley! And since I like being in the woods and had a video camera the only logical thing for me to do with my life was to get on a moped, and go take a video of bigfoot.

There’s a line in Sanderson’s book where he says something like, "perhaps the reason sasquatches haven’t been discovered is because no one has looked hard enough". This line was stuck in my head as I began training for my journey. I watched a few bigfoot documentaries to get up to speed on the latest bigfoot catching techniques. Then I would mix in an 80's ninja movie. If there was one lesson I learned watching 80's ninja movies it was this: To catch a ninja you must be a ninja.  
Sasquatches are the ninja's of the forest, an apex predator with high intelligence yet gentle ways, experts in stealth and their natural surroundings. I was an expert in living the scumbag dream! Drinking crap beer, eating pizza, and going to punk shows. Man, I would have my work cut out for me! I knew I needed to get into shape if I was going to have a chance of not dying in the woods by being a dickhead. I found a school in the area that taught Ninjutsu and would soon learn many of its misconceptions. I would NOT be taught in the ways of flying, poison potions, spin kicks or catching bullets in my teeth but would obtain some very useful self defense and awareness skills. Skills I would later use in order to ride a moped for hours day after day.
I also started practicing survival/primitive skills. Starting with some tracking basics as well as learning local animal habits to gear me up for the “big trip”. Learning from books didn't feel like enough for me so I found Headwaters Outdoor School in the Mount Shasta area run by Tim Corcoran. I signed up for two weeks of wilderness skills classes. The first week would be in the Marble Mountains, a place that had a history of bigfoot sightings! Now that some of the pieces of my trip were coming together I was ready to go. After all, I only needed some of the pieces, not all, because that's the way I roll! I planned a loose route, driving up the California coast to Arcata, then heading east to the Headwaters school, then hitting bigfoot hot spots all the way up to Washington's Olympic Peninsula. As far as I was concerned now, the only thing left to do was pull this crap off! 

                                          John Hagler, me, a yeti, and Dan Destructo

 Not being responsible enough to properly own a car I bought a moped from an ex-girlfriend after she tried to mace me on one confusing sunny day. Checking how far people have gotten on a moped brought me to a website by a guy named Walter Muma who spent three months in 1978 riding a moped 11,500 miles or so around Canada. Seeing that, I knew that my 2004 Tomos Sprint could definitely make it, and that took care of my transportation. Besides, on a moped you get 100 miles to the gallon, see the countryside, and easily hide it along side the road for extended back country hikes. Sure the top speed is 35mph and I couldn't carry much with me, but who cares? Right?!

As the clock ticked away toward my planned departure date I found myself in a new and unexpected relationship with a fine lady. She introduced me to a world of white wine spritzers, beer that cost more than $5 a six pack and delicious foods such as spanikopita! It felt as if I shouldn't leave because things finally started to feel right, love was pretty bitchin' and my life was getting fairly radical. However, I’m a stubborn jerk and had to “Live my dreams”.
Even though I planned all this crap for months, there was no plan. The only place I needed to be was at the Headwaters school. I wasn’t sure how many days it would take to get from Los Angeles to the Marble mountains (it was hard to plan mileage on back roads), but I was sure I could at least do over 100 miles a day. So I kept pushing the day I would leave back. I finally settled on leaving the 4th of July. The night before two of the best bands in my world were playing, Dillinger Four and Toys That Kill! 
                                                        Toys that Kill
They were rocking an awesome festival called “fuck ya fest” in Silverlake, so me and Brianna (my special lady) drove out. We found it hard to navigate through the oodles of hipsters with meticulously planned sloppy hair cuts and feathered mullet bullshit hair. Needing to moisting my crapmouth we ducked into a Mexican dive bar. Upon entering we were greeted by Dillinger Four! After much beers and talk of my sasquatch Ex”ped”ition, I realized that what I had dreamed about doing for months was about to become a reality, whether I was ready or not. Mopeding through the Pacific Northwest looking for Bigfoot sounds ridiculous to many but is something I put everything into and on the line for. I gave myself 2 months and a per diem of about $12 and now it was time to stop being a pussnuts and ride. 


  1. "oodles of hipsters with meticulously planned sloppy hair cuts and feathered mullet bullshit hair".. That's good stuff! These "punk rockers" now need to start buying clothes in the mens section, and quit trying to find a hole to put the tampon in! When did being a "punk" mean buying Aquanet hairspray and eyeliner at Walmart? And when did "punks" start driving little Honda "race" cars, and bathe themselves in Axe Bodyspray? Jesus loves bigfoot!

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  3. Every few years I search out your blog to re-read your moped bigfoot adventure. I always laugh my ass off. I'll be back.