ENCOUNTERS

Bigfoot In the Canadian Rockies
As told by Jonathan Smythe

Fifteen years ago, I was hiking with a friend in the Canadian Rockies.  We drove as far as we could on a logging road and hiked in to our location.  Looking at Google Earth now, there seems to be more logging roads, but none into the particular valley where we had our encounter.

Prepared with bear spray and flash bangers, we planned to camp out in a remote area for two nights.  As we were in the heart of the Rockies, we joked about the possibility of meeting up with Bigfoot.  Little did we know we’d do just that!

Since childhood, I’ve had a super sensitive sixth sense of when I’m being watched, and I was uncomfortable all afternoon as we hiked.  My friend—friends since childhood—knew this was real as we had played hide and seek many a time, and he learned at a young age not to look at me as I would know and find him immediately.

To discourage bears, we set up camp on a small ledge of a steep slope.  It was hard to get to, so we felt relatively safe.  We had dinner there, and while lounging around we could hear branches breaking maybe fifty meters off and from two different directions.  The sound wasn’t that of an animal thrashing though the bush, but deliberate breaking.  Rocks were thrown around nearby but not directly at us.

Having both read about such behavior, we knew what was going on.  It was an understatement to say we wanted to get out of there, but it was getting dark and we had to stay.  We tried taking turns sleeping while the other kept watch, but that didn't work.  We were both awake all night tending to our fire with cans of bear spray in hand.  We couldn’t wait to get out of there come morning.

I reasoned that since they hadn’t attacked us at night when they’d had ample opportunity, we would be ok to hike down and take a watch and see attitude.  We were exhausted but curious, so we sat down and made ourselves visible on top of a rock on the edge of a glade.  I felt strongly that if they could survive while rarely being seen, they were intelligent and therefore curious.

By ten am, we’d been there four hours.  We’d heard the odd noise, but nothing definite like rock throwing or branches being broken.  By now, we were ready to leave.  As we were gathering our equipment, we heard them.  They were wood knocking and breaking more sticks.  Fairly close, at maybe forty meters off in the bush.

After a little consideration, we thought the stick breaking at two o’clock was a diversion.  Perhaps so another could observe us from the rear?  With our sunglasses on, we were able to glance in the direction of the sound while appearing to look straight ahead.

I like to bring apples out on my hikes, as they don't have much odor (for bears) and provide good energy.  I took a couple out and we made a show of exaggerated enjoyment, smacking our lips together.  We had some bananas with us as well, and demonstrated peeling them and eating them with the same vigorous enjoyment.  We kept it up for a good half hour and the stick breaking stopped.

Between lulls in our culinary racket, I heard a tiny branch break nearby.  Like when you step on a small stick in the moss.  We continued on as if we hadn't heard it.

Maybe curiosity got the better of him and he moved to get a better look.  I could just imagine them watching us and wondering what we were enjoying.  Looking to our left and down the valley, I realized when I stood up on the rock I could see a small cliff that I had noticed on our way in.

The apples were in a white paper bag, so with a dozen left and a few bananas, I tied it to the small tree that was right beside the rock so it would be visible from that cliff.  We made a big show of how apples went into and came out of that bag.  I was careful to tie it so that if a bear tried to climb up and get it, many branches would be broken.

If something big enough was around to grab the bag, it could be reached without snapping branches. Any crows or squirrels would not be able to take the bag.  I had a very powerful spotter scope with me that I knew would very easily pick out the bag from that distance, especially when it was white on a green tree.

We figured we’d pushed our welcome by now and made a big show of putting on our packs, stretching, yawning, etc and proceeded to head out...purposely making lots of noise and talking.

We were left alone.  It was fairly easy leaving and took us maybe 40 minutes to get to the end of the small valley where we took a break.  It took us another 20 minutes to hike to the small cliff.

I stood on that cliff with my spotter scope in hand.  The bag was gone.  Not a branch had been broken.

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