Bigfoot. Sasquatch. It has a hundred names, and has made a thousand appearances, but none so public as its recent visits to McKenzie Bridge, Oregon.
McKenzie Bridge, Oregon – People have long suspected the huge hirsute creature known colloquially as Bigfoot lived in the forested hills and mountains of central Oregon. There have been dozens – perhaps hundreds – of sightings, a few unclear pictures, and countless stories that start out at the campfire and end up printed on the digital pages of conspiracy and cryptozoology blogs.
None of this counts as evidence in the eyes of skeptics, of which there are plenty. Those who doubt the existence of Bigfoot scoff at blurry photos, campfire yarns, and true believers. Photographs have been dismissed as manipulations, tales as overactive imaginations.
Stunning the people of McKenzie Bridge, Oregon, home to over a dozen Bigfoot sightings over the course of the last thirty years, the creature revealed himself by marching into the general store to buy a loaf of bread and a six-pack of Bud Light. The cashier, unsure what to do next, contacted the local sheriff, who made a beeline for the shop, where he confronted the large, hairy creature.
“Was it scary?” Sheriff Hugh Munn asked. “Damn right. Feller was eight feet tall, had to crouch down just to get through the door. Turns out all he wanted a week’s worth of groceries, though.”
With no reason to make an arrest, however, Sheriff Munn let the Bigfoot – who identified himself only as Barry – go free.
“He just sauntered on out of here like visiting the store was every day business.”
The tale told by the sheriff and the cashier initially received little respect in media circles, treated like any other Bigfoot story, but recent events have given a bit more credibility to their experience. In particular, the reemergence of Barry the Bigfoot and his personal confirmation of the appearance made in McKenzie Bridge, have lent the tale an air of authority.
Barry has made two more visits to the small Oregon town since his shopping trip. The first time he stopped to help a surprised woman with her gardening; later he made an appearance at a local barn dance, showing just how well he could get jiggy with it.
Experts have sprung up like weeds, analyzing the creature’s every move. Dr. Albert Meunster, a cryptozoologist from Seattle, Washington, believes Barry’s sudden sociability could mean a paradigm shift in the actions of all Sasquatches in the near future.
“They’re tired of being hunted, of having to hide all the time,” he said. “Besides, we have things they want. Beer. Cheeseburgers. Free wi-fi.”
So far Barry the Bigfoot has refused to give any interviews, retreating to the woods when television crews and reporters draw near, and throwing rotten fruit at adventurous photographers who pursue him. Until he becomes less camera shy, it’s unlikely the rest of the world will be able to understand him or his people.