Believe!

Happy Holidays, y'all!

Castin' ...

The chopper filmin' overhead with
Senior Field Producer Joe James for
a new episode of Finding Bigfoot ...

     Howdy, y'all ... just got back from a 550+ mile round-trip to Caddo Lake with friend and fellow NAWAC investigator Travis Lawrence.  While Travis and I went there primarily to bass fish ... I was also there to meet with Senior Field Producer Joe James from Animal Planet’s Finding Bigfoot and show him around the swamp.  James’ job was not only to scout the area, but to set-up and organize everything for both the film crew and cast prior to their week of filmin’ for an upcomin’ Caddo Lake episode.  On Friday, James had hired a chopper to film aerials of the lake and surrounding woods.  We saw ‘em flyin’ about while Travis and I were spendin’ the majority of our time on the water dodgin' inclement weather and doin’ lots of castin' ...

     As Travis and I were fishin', we noticed a large group of pelicans feedin' on somethin'; well, if those birds had corralled the bait, I was sure that there were predator fish such as bass feedin' on 'em as well.  We cast around that general area for a while, but didn't have the luck that those pelicans were havin'! And speakin’ of castin', I had originally been contacted by another associate producer Nick Crow a few months prior, who had asked that my son and I appear on camera to tell of our account of exactly what we had witnessed in Smith’s Slough back in June of 2009.  I just don't think I fit the bill for "town hall" material; however, some of my fishin' & huntin' buddies may say otherwise!  While TC and I opted not to be filmed, I told them that I would be happy to show them around the lake and take them back into the area of Our Encounter .  Travis and I picked-up Joe at Johnson’s Ranch Friday afternoon.  We quickly headed to my buddy’s place in Cypress Village to unload our fishin’ gear and top-off the fuel in my boat for the ride in.  The weather was cold, overcast & drizzly … so I knew right off the bat that our trip would not be a comfortable one.

Well, this group of feedin' pelicans didn't seem to mind the chopper filmin' overheads for Finding Bigfoot, nor did they seem
to mind Travis and I tryin' to "potlick" on their fishin' spot!  Needless to say, they spanked us with their expert fishin' skills ...

     Joe James is a really cool guy, and he seemed to be in awe of our lengthy jaunt through the swamp.  After blastin’ down Big Cypress, I made the cut towards Carter Lake between Hell’s Half Acre and Horse Island.  The water was about 1½’ to 2’ low, so I kept us at a slower speed as we bumped stumps and submerged logs a few times.  After showin’ ‘em where we actually saw this animal, they both decided that they wanted to go onto the island and scout around.  I poled my 1,300 lb. + boat through the slough, but due to the shallow depth, we were still about 8’ shy of dry land.  I climbed into the almost boot-level water, and even though I was careful … ended-up gettin’ wet from the knees down!  I scavenged a few logs & branches to build a makeshift bridge from the bow of the boat to the shore so Travis & Joe wouldn’t endure the same cold, wet fate I had …

     Once on dry land, I took them to the place where TC and I camped back in March of 2010, and showed them where I had set two of my five game-cams until I was forced to remove them in September of 2013.  I also demonstrated that the flooded forest was actually traversable without sinkin’ up to one’s knees, as one would certainly do if they were to walk into the water of that slough.  I’m 220 lbs. and left no tracks, even though the animal that we had witnessed was obviously much bigger and heavier, though it seemed to have moved through the flooded timber with ease.  Travis found a 3’ length of wet 2” x 12” … and used it to smack the side of a large bald Cypress to produce a wood knock.  After a few moments of silence with no response, we moved on.

Travis with his first chain pickerel!

     After polin’ the boat back into a channel, I took them past Carter Lake and onto Big Cypress as it started to get dark.  As cold as it was, surprisingly the bats were out and danced through the beam of my GoLight as we motored into the darkness.  I picked a spot in Stumpy Slough to shut-down the boat, turn off the lights and drift while listenin’ to the barred-owls and discussin’ each other’s time in the grime in pursuit of these mystery animals.  Joe was obviously not inexperienced when it came to bein’ out in the field, and as far as I was concerned he had a dream-job … especially if you were at-all interested in searchin’ for apes all over the place!  As the weather turned south, it was decided that we get our new friend back to civilization.  He had to meet someone in Shreveport, and would endure a busy schedule of preppin’ for the upcomin’ week.  Travis and I enjoyed Joe’s company; hopefully, the three of us will all cross paths some time again …

     Travis and I fished most of the day Saturday, but did not hook-up with any of the double-digit bucket-mouths that I’d bragged about lurkin’ around the secluded Cypress of Caddo.  Even though we dodged & sat-out a couple of thunderstorms, we didn’t get skunked.  However, the few bass caught were small and the rest were lip-locked due to the bitter-cold weather.  Travis caught his first chain pickerel … which was the highlight of his trip as far as the fishin’ went.  One big highlight of the trip for me was gettin’ photos of some Canvasbacks … a hen and two drakes that Travis saw lite in a sea of giant salvinia.  Livin’ on the Gulf coast, these were the first Canvasbacks I’d seen in over 25 years, since my Mississippi flyway duck-huntin’ days with my father-in-law in northeastern Arkansas.

Travis watched as three Canvasbacks landed in a sea of giant salvinia.  I was amazed that I was able to get this shot ...

     Fishin’ ‘til dark, I decided to go ahead and trailer the boat on Saturday evenin’.  Once again, I ended-up wet from the knees down at the boat ramp!  Thank God we took it out, because another front came through that night and we both would’ve been much colder & wetter dealin’ with it on Sunday mornin’.  We packed-up our belongin’s … visited with our host and hit the road by 10:30 A.M. for lunch with my daughter & her boyfriend in "Naconowhere".  I got Travis back to his place and was finally home, un-hitched & unloaded by 6:00 P.M.  Incidentally, the temperature was a balmy 72° until the front came through about 9:00 P.M. at our place.  Caddo was hit with “iceswampocalypse” today, with snow, freezin’ rain and temps in the low 20’s.  My friend in Uncertain said that the roads are a mess, and everyone is hunkered-down.  Hopefully, the freeze will knock down some of that damn giant salvinia!

     As far as castin’ goes, I wish Joe James the best in his endeavors for findin’ credible witnesses for the show.  They’ll start filmin’ later this week, and I don’t envy anyone who’s doin’ any sloughstalkin’ out there in this mess!  Who knows, maybe the apes will be active and they might actually find somethin’; best of luck, y’all!  The next time I’ll be able to do any castin’ out there, I’ll hopefully fare better than we did this trip.  But I’m sure we’ll want to hit the swamp sometime soon, hopefully after everything is green & thick, and the swamp is alive with activity.  Until then, y’all stay warm and be safe runnin’ ‘round out there in them woods!

Missin' ...

     Howdy!  I know it’s been awhile, y’all ... but no, I ain’t missin’!  I’ve just been busier than a cat tryin’ to cover-it-up on concrete gettin’ ready for some upcomin’ excursions.  Due to this cold, wet winter weather … I’ve been gettin' a bit stir-crazy and need to get back out into them woods before I start havin’ a friggin’ come-undone!  After all that Preppin' ... I’ve finally finished the boat repairs and have culled my fishin’ & sloughstalkin’ gear for an upcomin’ trip to Caddo Lake.  A friend and I will not only be doin’ some bass fishin’, but we’ll be revisitin’ the area of Our Encounter with one of Animal Planet’s associate producers from the show, Finding Bigfoot.  Yeah, really.  Now, before anyone starts labelin’ me a friggin’ hypocrite, just gimme a chance to explain …

Late winter on Caddo Lake; the bass still bite, but nothin' gets green 'til at least April ...

     Back in early December, I’d received an e-mail from someone statin’ that he is an associate producer from Animal Planet, and is lookin’ for eyewitnesses for an upcomin’ Finding Bigfoot episode to be filmed at Caddo Lake.  At first, I thought someone was just funnin’ me; after all, I had just posted my rant “Exploitin’ …” a couple of weeks prior!  I thought to myself, hmmm … why in the Hell would someone want me of all people to be on their dang TV show?  I responded to him out of both curiosity and courtesy, and politely let them know that I was definitely not “town hall material” … nor did I want my 15-minutes, if y’all know what I mean.  After speakin’ with this person on the phone, he stated that they were lookin’ for legitimate witnesses to this animal in the Caddo Lake area.  Well, we fit the bill … but, did we really wanna be a part of what I had previously dubbed “surreality” TV?

     My son and I are both in a bit of a quandary about that.  After all, we get enough ridicule from family, friends & co-workers about havin’ witnessed this animal; so, why add fuel to the fire by bein’ on a program that’s lookin’ for an animal that’s not yet been proven to even exist?  Hell, we know what we saw … as in, close enough to know that it was a real animal.  The problem is, I’d much rather make a mark spendin’ time in the grime gettin’ some definitive proof, rather than havin’ folks tell us that they saw us on some dang TV program!  I have a few friends & associates who have appeared on different television programs, documentaries, radio shows and podcasts concernin’ this subject; however, I for one don’t feel the need to join in the fray …

A wall of Cypress on the glassy shore of Mossy Break ...

     While my son and I won’t be participatin’ in any of the actual filmin’ … I have agreed to take an associate producer out to the area where we saw this animal.  Of course, I told them that they picked the worst friggin’ time to film on Caddo, and that they really needed to be out there when everything was green, thick, alive & thrivin’!  The associate producer that I initially spoke with was very cordial, professional and understood our reluctance to appear on camera.  He then explained to me that unfortunately, they have no control as far as schedulin’ was concerned.  Even though this particular program is not really among my personal favorites, I ain’t the type of feller to be inhospitable; and, I offered to help them in their endeavors.  By the way ... that’s called southern hospitality!

     I ended-up sendin' the Animal Planet crew our photos and some audio files from the night that we’d spent out there one cold Spring Break, back in 2010.  I’ll be takin’ my friend and this other associate producer (who I have not yet spoken with or met) out to do some sloughstalkin’.  Durin’ the day I’ll give 'em the “nickel lake tour” and we'll hopefully spend some time in the grime!  At night we’ll run through Smith’s Slough between Horse Island and Hell’s Half Acre to see what-all we can scare-up.  Keep in mind, I ain’t part of the whoop or tree-knockin’ crowd.  This agenda, of course will all be weather permittin’ … ‘cause late February is not always kind (weather-wise, that is) in northeast Texas!  I’d hate to get them boys out there and get stuck in an approachin’ cold front, high-winds or a severe thunderstorm and come-up friggin’ missin’ …

     And, speakin’ of which, I’m really beginnin’ to miss my dang heat & skeeters right about now; this cold & wet has gotta get, no matter what that friggin’ groundhog sees!  Hmmm, wonder if one of them critters would make a good gumbo?  Anywho, I’ll be sure and give y’all an update after our trip, get lotsa pics and maybe even a double-digit bass or two.  Until then, y’all take care and c’mon back now, you hear?

Thanks!

     Howdy ... I just wanted to tell all of my readers thanks!  I started this blog one year ago, and what a long, strange trip it's been.  I've met a lotta cool folks and done a buncha new things over the last year.  And even though I haven't found any definitive evidence of the animal that my son and I had encountered waltzin' through an East Texas swamp ... I've had a friggin' blast out there lookin'!

This was entering Carter Lake from Big Cypress back in June of 2010 ... what a long, strange trip it's been!

     Thanks to y'all, I now have a fairly moderate, steady readership ... and a very sane one at that; no lunatic fringe and no haters.  I've purposely stayed away from junkin'-up this site by addin' ads or sellin' stuff.  Fact is, I really don't wanna be known as a dang click-whore!  This blog, otherwise known as the outlet for "the noise in my head" actually comes from the heart.  The benefit I get from doin' this is not a monetary one.  The relationships that I've built with folks over the last year cannot be bought or sold.  Period.




My only significant find in the five years since our encounter on Horse
Island; only somethin' with hands could've bent & twisted this saplin',
which was slightly larger than I could get my hand around.  This odd
limbtwist was found on a game trail off of Smith's Slough while I was
out servicin' my game cams on that fateful day that I got friggin' lost.
It was very fresh, and even though I'm not claimin' it was the work of
a wood ape, it was significant enough to catch my eye. Primates have
been known to mark trails in this manner, but after scoutin' around, I
did not find any tracks or any other limbtwists within' 100 yards.  As a
matter of fact, I've never found any tracks out there, other than deer,
hogs, coyotes, etc.  My son found and filmed a bear track the day that
we set-up camp to sleep out there.  Gettin' back to the limb, I noticed
that there were no scrapes or rubs around this saplin' ... which might
have concluded that it was the work of a deer.  Otherwise, I got zip ...

     No regrets; but, as previously stated, when I started this blog ... I had promised myself that I would only report the facts as far as my sloughstalkin' goes, and stay out of the world of "Bigfootery".  Well ... that didn't friggin' happen!  My mini-man madness kicks-in every once in a while, and I've pecked-out a good rant or two.  It's hard not to poke fun as long as you understand that folks are laughin' at you, too!  Even though I try to keep things humorous, I've maintained the promise to myself to keep it real.  I research an undocumented animal; but, am I unbalanced?  Hmmm, maybe.  Them stacks of BassPro or Cabela's catalogs that some folks claim that I hafta sit on just to see over the steerin' wheel of my truck might shift every once and a while, so deal with it.  I do ...

     Those of you who have been featured in this blog have never called me out, 'cause y'all know that I calls 'em like I sees 'em; no drama and no bullsh¡t.  And if sh¡t can happen, it has for this hapless knuckle-head!  Storms, mechanical failures and gettin' lost just come with the territory.  And there's some of y'all who are prob'ly very friggin' thankful that I've skipped some of those details of our antics out in the field.  Sometimes, what happens out there in them woods don't necessarily stay in the woods, 'cause some situations are just life-lessons learnt. Your comments are always welcomed, but please continue to keep the subject matter "PG-13".  No friggin' F-bombs.  Period.  If you feel the need to use expletives, be creative and maybe more of y'all's comments might just get published (i.e., Alt + 0161 goes a long way when typin' "sh¡t" ... ;)

     Thanks again, never give up and keep on grindin'!  The truth is out there, and hopefully sometime soon one of these mystery animals will finally be properly scientifically documented.  Yeah, that was a shout-out ... so, go team!  Whether you are an amateur field researcher, a naturalist, a conservationist, a field biologist or a "Bigfootologist" ... y'all keep on doin' what you do.  Your time in the grime is greatly appreciated!  Hopefully, we'll all learn a thing or two real soon.  Carry on, be safe, God bless and Godspeed ...

Shootin' Nature ...

The money shot!  Could I get a pic of
one of them mystery bipeds this clear?

     Howdy!  Any of y'all out there like shootin' nature?  Now, hold-on ... don't y'all go gettin' all excited; I ain't talkin' 'bout with guns, I'm talkin' bout shootin' nature with a camera.  I've mellowed in my old age, and the majority of my shootin' ... as far as nature goes, is done with a camera.  Don't get me wrong; I'm a carnivore; y'all remember, "vegetarian" is an old redneck word for a bad hunter!  However, unless I feel the need to harvest a deer, hogs, rabbits or some ducks ... I'd rather be shootin' my game with a digital.  Now, what's this got to do with sloughstalkin', "Bigfoot", Caddo critters, wild-men or wood apes?  Well, let me try to explain ...

     I'm not by any means a professional photographer, but I can say that I've got some pretty-dang awesome shots of critters and nature.  I go all Charlie Daniels-like on shootin' nature; remember the verse, "Things that crawl, things that fly and things creepin' 'round on the ground"?  Well, I like shootin' those kinds of things!  But the thing is, most of my better photos were just candid shots I took when I was out & about, fishin', hikin' or sloughstalkin'.  And I've noticed that when I've actually planned to get that perfect shot of this critter or that, maybe 25% of my shots are useable, and only 5% are the "money-shots".  Why?  'Cause it seems that when I'm really tryin' to get that perfect shot, nature's got a habit of ... well, bein' nature!

     For example, we've got a bunch of them pileated woodpeckers around our property, and in the past 15-years we've lived here ... I haven't been able to get a single quality shot of one.  You'd think I was tryin' to photograph the grail-bird ... which is the ivory-billed woodpecker.  I don't know what it is about me and them pileated woodpeckers, but either they get behind a part of the tree to where I cain't see 'em, there's too much foliage to where I cain't focus, or when do I see 'em up-close ... I don't have my friggin' camera handy!  So, is this startin' to sound familiar to any of my fellow "Bigfootologists" out there?


This was one of the locals I shot tryin' to swim to my boat.  The shot involved settin' my rod down, grabbin' my
camera, turnin' it on, focusin' and gettin' one shot clear enough to see its tongue flick.  This shot was pure luck!

     My son had his video camera that fateful mornin' back in Smith's Slough when we had Our Encounter.  The thing was ... that the foliage between us and it was just too dang thick for him to focus on much of anything.  Sure, he was only 13 at the time, but it wasn't as if he didn't know how to use his own video cam.  He had originally bought that camera two years prior so he could film his buddies and himself skateboardin'.  He's taken some amazin' footage of his friends as well as himself nailin' some very difficult tricks, sometimes even while ridin' on his own board as he filmed.  So why was it so difficult to get a shot of somethin' tall, dark & hairy walkin' around out there in them woods?

A pair of roseate spoonbills ... shot from my parent's back yard.

     I carry my camera on a chest-harness when I'm out there sloughstalkin'.  Whether I'm walkin' or kayakin' ... it's readily available.  But if I am ever blessed with another encounter, will I be able to get the "money shot"?  Who's to say this critter ain't goin' to be in a full sprint, or just movin' through thick foliage like the first time we seen it?  Will I even be able to get a clear shot, even if I can focus?  I imagine that I'd be pretty-dang rattled, and would have to do everything possible to steady the camera so the shot wouldn't be blurry from my (e)motions.  As an avid recurve bowhunter, over the years I eventually got over "buck fever".  But, would I be able to keep my composure in the event  that I'm blessed enough to have another glimpse of one of these critters?

This one was whisperin' to me, "Angelo ... the other white meat."

     Shootin' nature ain't that easy.  Even if a "Bigfoot" just walked towards me and stood there (which is highly friggin' unlikely) it's doubtful I'll have much time to get it on film.  It's like havin' a shotgun for home defense; I keep it handy, loaded and know how to use it.  And y'all remember ... rackin' a twelve-guage only let's the intruder know your position.  The only noise I ever wanna hafta make is clickin' the safety off and then, God forbid ... the discharge of buckshot.  So with that bein' said, fumblin' for my camera (even if it's on a harness), removin' the lens cap, turnin' it on, focusin', etc., all takes time, makes movement as well as some noise.  Actually bein' able to take shots that would be convincin', crisp and clear takes luck and lots of friggin' skill!

A blue tailed skink and a blue butterfly, both filmed in the Caddo Lake WMA.

     So just like huntin' with my recurve, I've been doin' lots of practicin'.  Well before each bow season ... I'd find a patch of woods (not in the area I was goin' to hunt) and practice my shootin' skills; I'd snap-shoot pinecones and stumps with judo-points.  Yeah, I've got a shootin' lane & targets in the back of our property, but that ain't nothin' compared to actually bein' out there in them woods ... stalkin' and shootin' at different things at various ranges.  So just as in traditional archery, I've been doin' the same kind of practice with my Canon SX50.  I've been scoutin' here and there, and shootin' nature as much as possible.  As an example I've included some of my better shots in this entry ...

A mating pair of bluebirds, scopin' out a nestin' site in our back yard.

     But as an example of the convolution of shootin' nature, I wanted to specifically tell y'all about this-here bluebird; it wasn't out in them woods, it was scopin'-out the birdhouse not 20-yards off our back porch.  Even though I'd been practicin' ... out of the 15 or 20 shots I took, only 5 were good, and only 1 was the "money shot"!  This is just another fine example showin' how shootin' nature ain't that easy.  So just like my sloughstalkin' ... I guess I'd better be spendin' more time in the grime ... tryin' to hone my skills and to figure it out.  But remember, just 'cause you practice ... practice don't always make perfect; 'cause sometimes shootin' nature all depends on the nature of the beast you're tryin' to shoot.  Y'all take care ...

Callin' ...

     Howdy!  Let's ring-in the new year with a little slough-savvy and wood-wise 101 and talk about callin'.  If I'm after a particular game animal that I'm familiar with, I'll attempt to lure 'em in by callin'.  But as far as "Bigfoot", Caddo critters, wildmen or wood-apes ... I don't use calls, at least not yet, anyways.  Why, might you ask?  Well, let me answer that question with another question: Why would someone try to call, wood-knock or whatever if they didn't know exactly what this animal's vocalizations actually meant?



 

Some tools of the trade if you're goin' to be callin' ...

     The gist of game callin' is understandin' what a particular animal is tryin' to communicate to the rest of its group.  For example, when I duck hunt for mallards and a flock is flyin' high overhead, I would use what's called a high-ballin' call to turn the passin' flock around and get 'em to fly in closer to my decoys.  But upon approach, I would then use a feed call to try and get 'em to light ... signalin' them that my decoy flock is feedin' on somethin'.  But, say if I were an inexperienced birder, did not know what call was needed and at that point had continued high-ballin' ... it would be like sendin' out an alert!  That incomin' flock would most probably flare and keep on flyin' ...
 

     Here's another example; this time ... let's use deer.  If I used a buck grunt call, it alerts any deer in the area that a dominant male is around.  This may work to get a competin' buck to come on in; however, it might drive away the younger bucks.  Durin' the rut, if I used rattlin' horns in conjunction with various buck grunts, it signals the herd that two bucks are competin', and again ... lures in dominant bucks, as well as the curious.  Deer are both territorial and curious, but have extremely heightened senses; one wrong sound ... and them deer will disappear! 

 

     My third example would be for predators, such as coyotes or large cats.  I would use a fawn bleet or a wounded rabbit call to lure in a predator for an easy meal.  And if it were daylight, I would use a crow call or a squirrel call in conjunction with the wounded animal call, 'cause these animals are the "sentries" of the forest, and alert others that somethin' is happenin' or that somethin' just ain't right.  This is also a "confidence call" for the predator, who's probably competin' with other predators for that easy meal.  Curiosity usually kills the cat ...

     I know all of this due to the time that I've spent out there in them woods ... or as I like to say, doin' my time in the grime!  But as far as the mystery biped that my son and I had come across ... I have abso-friggin'-lutely no clue as to what its vocalizations sound like or what they mean!  I've never personally witnessed one of these critters actually vocalize out in the wild.  And as far as I know, no one has ever recorded one of these animals on film while it was actually makin' a call or knockin' on trees.  So my question is, why would someone attempt to vocalize, call-blast, yell, scream or bang on trees?  It just doesn't make any friggin' sense to me!

 

      I personally try to be as quiet as possible while I'm scoutin' or servicin' my trail-cams.  Why?  'Cause my son and I were bein' quiet the mornin' we had Our Encounter.  I believe that this animal was surprised ... prob'ly 'bout as much as we were!  I believe it was bein' quiet 'cause it was prob'ly stalkin' for some food.  We saw and filmed lots of deer that mornin' ... and I believe we interrupted its hunt.  I also believe that this animal is prob'ly a higher form of primate, is more intelligent than most local critters and pretty much-well knows when somethin' is traipsin' 'round in its territory.  Kinda like when them other critters seemed to shut-down when this critter was traipsin' about.
 

      I think these critters are just plumb curious, and will come to see what the Hell folks are doin' out there in them woods.  The only other critter sounds we heard when we encountered this thing were crows; they were cawin' and circlin' overhead as this thing moved further back into them woods.  Come to think about it, all of the wrens, cardinals and frogs we had heard when we first got there had shut-down.  Other than its movement through the flooded forest and the breakin' of branches further back in them woods ... we never heard any vocalizations.  So other than our normal activities out there, I couldn't tell y'all what might attract it, other than its own curiosity ...



Trail's end; for the last 2 years, this tree-fall has blocked the Smith's Slough access to Carter Lake.

 

    Gettin' back to the subject of callin' ... when I've been back there in the area of our encounter, a lot of the times I was alone; and a lot of those times I was alone out there at night.  Them woods back there are dark & creepy enough without me wonderin' what might be wanderin' 'round close by.  This critter is obviously large, so the last thing I'd want to do is alarm it or p¡ss it off.  What if, as in the case of a dominant buck, this thing wanted to be territorial?  Well then, I'd guess that my 5' 8½" 200 lb. ass would pretty-much-well be sh¡t-outta luck!  Oh, sure ... let me just sit out there at 2:00 A.M. and yell, scream or bang on some friggin' trees.  Hmmm, maybe I can elicit a response?  Hell, maybe I'll actually get to see it up close & personal, just before I come-up missin' ...

 

    Me callin' for this particular animal ain't goin' to happen 'til I learn more about it.  I'd much rather have this animal get curious and approach me on its own terms.  Maybe then I could get to see it vocalize, or maybe then we could observe one another without either of us gettin' out-of-sorts.  I'd much rather be Shootin'Nature ... as in with some sort-of recordin' device like my Canon SX50 than findin' out the hard way whether or not my Springfield XDm .40 cal. could stop it.  Hopefully, this thing won't be scared of any sudden movements ... as in my bowels cuttin' loose or me gettin' into a ragin' friggin' sprint and runnin' out of them woods.  At that point, maybe then I'd probably start callin' ... most likely 911!

Prove it …



The lesser-known "Frame 253" ...
did they stumble on the Bumble?

     Howdy!  How many of y’all out there have actually had an encounter with somethin’ tall, dark & hairy wanderin’ ‘round on two legs out there in them woods?  If you truly have had an experience, can you prove it?  Well, I’ve had an experience … and sad to say, I really couldn’t prove it.  At the time, I was fishin’ with my son … who actually got a much better look at it than I did.  He even had a video camera; but because the foliage was so thick, he couldn’t get focused on the critter to get any footage.  Does that mean that we were mistaken?  Nope.  Does that mean we were hallucinatin’?  Nope.  Does that mean that what we saw just doesn’t exist?  Well, it obviously exists; but in the eyes of skeptics, without the burden of proof ... it obviously doesn’t.  So if we say it’s real but the skeptics say otherwise, here is the real question … why do we have to prove it?  Well, let’s just weigh this question …
 

This was two years ago; I hope Caddo Lake gets a bunch of
snow soon ... and it freezes all that friggin' giant salvinia!

     As much as I’d like to prove it, so far I’ve come up zero!  Four years of scoutin’ and maintainin’ five game-cams in the area of Our Encounter have so far been a bust.  No tracks, no pictures and no video.  Them sloughs & woods around Caddo Lake definitely ain’t sparse … even if you just narrowed-it down to the specific area where we happened upon this critter.  It would be comparable to findin’ your contact lens in an Olympic-sized swimmin’ pool; it can be done, but you’d be pretty-dang lucky at best.  And considerin’ the elusiveness of the quarry, bein’ overwhelmed by the vast area to search and your stick-to-itiveness to find it … it actually is a possible task if you are patient and persistent.



     I can honestly say that I really don’t believe in "Bigfoot".  Really.  I do believe, however … that I know what we saw.  Even though we couldn’t readily identify this animal … it was real, it was there and we experienced it.  But sad to say, we have no physical evidence to prove it.  No video, no photos and nothin' material; sh¡t happens ... oh, well.  So now, let’s weigh the other side of the aforementioned question: can the skeptics actually prove that this animal doesn’t exist?  Nope.  They can’t.  How can someone prove that there cannot possibly be some large, intelligent bipedal hominoids thrivin’ somewhere in the thousands upon thousands of forested, uninhabited acreage on this continent?  Haven't there been many a folk (includin' those of us who have witnessed this mystery animal) who've made a concerted effort to try and prove its existence?  Sure … there’s actually been quite a few.  But I’ll bet you that there ain’t really been much of an effort made by the scores of skeptics for positive proof that it doesn’t exist.

     So can anyone prove it?  C’mon now, y’all remember … folks were once skeptical of gorillas, right?  And I ain’t tryin’ to beat a dead horse, but none of them skeptics have yet to definitively prove that the subject of the Patterson-Gimlin film was a person in a costume.  Now, they’ve attempted to debunk Patty … but none of ‘em has fabricated any sort of costume or suit that looks anything like a livin’ critter!  So … exactly who’s fabricatin’ what?  If the skeptics are gonna say that somethin’ like this can’t possibly exist … then I say that they need to prove it!  Show me the costume or gorilla suit used for the so-called money shot.  No lame attempts, no second-hand hearsay … and no antagonistic costume maker turned carnival-barker tryin’ to make a quick buck.  And since when was Patty a red-head?  Good God ... at least get the friggin’ hair-color color right!

     I’ll admit that I was semi-skeptical of this mystery biped until I witnessed it for myself.  What’s “semi-skeptical” mean, you ask?  Well … let me try to explain.  I’ve been huntin’ & fishin’ since I was six, and until June of 2009 when I actually witnessed one of these critters in the wild … I was pretty much-well on the fence whether I’d been sharin’ them woods with “Bigfoot”.  Now, in my defense … I never thought the existence of such an animal was impossible.  After all, I had witnessed all kinds of different critters, and I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout watchin’ ‘em on National Geographic specials, Wild Kingdom with Marlin Perkins or Jack Hanna’s guest appearances on The Tonight Show.  I’m talkin’ about runnin’ ‘round out there in them woods and seein’ all manner of nature. But mystery bipeds?  They just weren’t somethin’ I’d ever seen ...

     But I was also one of them kids that had seen almost every kind of science fiction & monster movie ever made.  I collected fanzines ‘cause I wanted to know exactly how "the masters” created the make-up and special effects for these film creatures that I had idolized.  Now, can anyone out there name just one featured-creature that looks anywhere near as authentic as Patty?  I can’t.  The closest I’ve ever seen were them primates in the “Dawn of Man” sequence of 2001: A Space Odyssey.  And 37 years later, even though I loved Peter Jackson’s King Kong, it was CGI.  So, when someone tries to tell me that Patty was a person in a suit … I simply say, prove it.  Really.  And good luck with that ...

     People like myself have been labeled as Bigfoot believers, Bigfoot enthusiasts, or just recently by our friends from across the pond as “Bigfootologists”.  Really?  Well now ... the noun ology is an informal word for some unidentified branch of knowledge.  Hmmm, that’s sort-of interestin’ … I might just take that as a compliment.  Let’s see, I'm kinda informal, and I am seekin’ knowledge on somethin’ that’s definitely unidentified ... cool!  Hell, I kinda like it!  But the fact is, I’m at least tryin’ to figure-out what this critter is.  So I guess that I really don’t mind bein’ labeled … just as long as I ain’t bein’ labeled as a skeptic.  At least I ain’t cynically peein’ in someone’s Cheerios by sayin’ that these animals simply cannot exist!

 

     Now, if I actually believed in that sort of ideology, I’d at least try and definitively prove it!  “Bigfootologists” are tryin'; but the fact is, the skeptics can’t.  This ain’t some Miracle on 34th Street scenario; Kris Kringle ain’t the one on trial here for believin’ he’s Santa.  Come to think about it, most folks may agree that Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer might just be a little far-fetched.  However, I’d be willin’ to bet y’all that Yukon Cornelius might agree that The Bumble may have been based on somethin’ a little more ... tangible.  So as far as I'm concerned, them skeptics can say “Bah, humbug!” all they want; but first … they ought to at least have to prove it!

 

 

     So, I say to all of the amateur field researchers and fellow “Bigfootologists” out there … kudos, y’all!  Given enough time and effort, one of us may soon be able to prove it.  That’s right … definitive proof that what folks have been seein’ for the past couple of hundred years out there in them woods is just an animal.  Proof perhaps, that this critter is simply just a species that we haven’t yet been able to document.  And just because it ain’t yet been documented doesn’t mean that it doesn’t or cannot exist.  And I say to all of them skeptics … y’all just need to grow a pair and get out there!  Really ... actually sweat a little and do some time in the grime to at least attempt to prove to us that it doesn’t exist.  Seriously, if that’s what y’all believe … then get out there and friggin' prove it!  But then again, I might be a little skeptical to think that y’all actually could …

 

To all of you and yours, whether you just believe ... or for those of us who actually know, I hope and pray that y'all have a safe & happy holiday.

Good luck to y'all in all your future endeavors in the upcomin' New Year!

*The photo titled, "Frame 253 ..." is obviously a hoax, and was created while havin' some fun with Photoshop.  The image used of Bluff Creek was found on Google Images, and was obviously taken by someone else.  One would have to assume that it is obviously the iconic frame 352 taken by Roger Patterson, which in all probability is not a hoax and is subject to Copyright.  The Bumble, however, is mine ... posed in the iconic Patty stance ... and photographed by me.  I just wanted to be perfectly clear that The Bumble was not harmed in the process, and currently resides comfortably perched upon our bar ... enjoyin' some holiday cheer!

Campin' ...

Our camp site on Horse Island in 2010

     Howdy!  This next installment concerns the night my son and I slept out on Horse Island in Smith’s Slough.  This is where we had Our Encounter with somethin’ large & hairy walkin’ ‘round out there in them woods!  Any of y’all like campin’?  To me, there ain’t nothin’ more relaxin’ than sleepin’ outdoors … ‘specially at night.  The sound of owls, frogs & crickets just seem so soothin’.  I even love to sleep out back in my hammock on those rare occasions when I don’t have to go to work the next day.  Matter of fact, if it weren’t for skeeters, I’d sleep out in that hammock a lot more often.  Now, different folks camp different ways; some consider campin’ stayin’ in an RV … but that ain’t for me!  I can’t tell y’all how many times I’ve been awakened by an RV showin’ up late to a camp site, settin’-up and then runnin’ a friggin’ generator or an AC all night.  Really?  Hell, I used to have this buddy that rigged a window unit for his tent!  I ain’t sh¡ttin’ y’all; as long as he had a tent pad with water and electrical, he was set.  Oh, well … to each his own.  But I’ve been guilty of them situations too; like when I took the family campin’ when the kids was little.  Or, usually somewhere I was fishin’ for a few days … and really needed electrical to charge my trollin’ motor & crankin’ batteries.

 

     But what I really enjoy is primitive campin’ … hikin’-in with as few provisions as possible, and goin’ to places where you ain’t goin’ to hear nothin’ but nature.  If it don’t fit on your back, around your waist or if you can’t carry it comfortably … it don’t go.  No ice chests, camp stoves, chairs or comforts ... just hard-core roughin’ it; I like to go to remote places that are off trail … which means those places where there ain’t no trails!  But once I got married … doin’ that sorta campin’ became a rarity.  The first time I camped with my wife, we stayed in a hen-house unit off of Dam B, at the Martin Dies Jr. State Park.  The screened unit and public shower were a must for her needs.  But pretty-much well after that, my wife transformed as far as campin’ went.  She became a Girl Scout leader, and could pack-in and set-up with the best of ‘em.  Her campin’ skills really showed after we went through Hurricane Ike, ‘cause other than the heat … she never wavered when it came to roughin’ it.  Our family was fortunate that we still had a roof over our heads, and our kids were fortunate that my wife and I are country-folk who know how to improvise …

     After my son and I had Our Encounter at Caddo Lake in 2009, we decided to scout around out there in them woods!  The area of our encounter was an island, which could only be accessed by boat.  My son had just turned 14 when we planned to go campin’ out there.  Even though he had been huntin’ and fishin’ with me since he was a toddler, he had never really roughed-it … so we planned to stay overnight durin’ Spring Break of 2010.  We started gatherin’ gear before the Christmas holidays, and the items we didn’t already have were purchased as gifts.  He usually got new huntin’ clothes, a jacket and boots anyways.  But that year he got a hydration pack, a fanny-pack, a one-man bivi and machete as well.  At the time, he was too young to carry his own sidearm, so I purchased a can of UDAP Bear Spray with a chest harness for him.  He is very proficient with my Smith & Wesson .357, so I opted to carry it on this trip just in case.

     The area of our encounter was definitely not designated for campin’!  Even though it wasn’t technically in the Wildlife Management Area, it was public land … but I didn’t really feel the need to build a fire (which ended-up bein’ a HUGE mistake).  I did have the proper APH (Annual Public Hunting permit) … which meant that I could legally carry my gun.  Even though I was not huntin’ … in the eyes of the law I had the means to hunt.  I had even purchased my son an LPU (Limited Public Use permit) just in case we wandered off into the WMA, so better safe than sorry.  I had arranged for us to stay with our friends in Uncertain, and bass fish the majority of the time that we were there.  God forbid that somethin’ went wrong while we was out roughin’ it … so I had my buddy I could rely on for back-up.  He knew exactly where we’d be … how long we’d be out there and when to expect us back.  My son was now very familiar with the area and knew how to operate our boat as well as navigate back to Cypress Village … even in the dark if he had to.

     After visitin’ with our friends and fishin’ for a day and a half … on Monday, March 15, 2010 I grabbed our gear, loaded the boat and headed for Horse Island.  My son took video of most of our trip, and I took plenty of pictures.  When I finally poled the boat through the Cypress knees and beached-it in the back of Smith’s Slough … it was already pushin’ Noon.  The first thing my son saw when we got out of the boat was a bear track!  It wasn’t that big, and was at the water’s edge so we couldn’t cast it.  We found a clearin’ about 150 yards from where we beached the boat, and decided that was where we’d make camp.  If we had to make a hasty retreat, it made sense to not camp too far away from the boat.  As we made camp, the temperature was pushin’ 75° … so I had assumed we’d have a fairly mild night.  Well, y’all know what they say about assumin’ … ‘cause this “ass” decided we wouldn’t need sleepin’ bags; I left ‘em at the poutin’ house!  Hell, we had a couple of fleece throws each, plus we had our huntin’ jackets & thermals. Why would we need sleepin’ bags?  That’s just more baggage for us to carry …

     We set-up camp, ate and went scoutin’ for a couple of hours.  I had carried in a Coleman® lantern just in case, hung it and gathered some wood for a fire.  I cleared an area of brush and leaf-litter, and prepped a campfire … ready to light if we had an emergency.  We never lit either one; the plan was for us to be as quiet as possible and observe … not to let the world know where we were by havin’ a bonfire.  I had also rigged a trip-wire system around our campsite, to alert us if we had any wildlife get too close for our comfort.  We set-up our one-man bivouacs about 20 yds. off the bank of the slough.  It was still too early for snakes, and I figured the same would apply for the gators.  I pitched the bivis together, and then covered ‘em with skeeter nettin’ … ‘cause evidently it wasn’t too cold for them.  The last thing I did was set-out my Olympus 1GB digital sound recorder so I could capture audio of our entire evenin’.

     As the sun finally set, we heard a barrage of coyotes off in the not-too-far distance.  After awhile, it was apparent that they’d found somethin’ to eat … or turned on one of their own.  Next came the barred owls … whose concerto-bizarro  lasted throughout the entire night.  Shortly after 8:00 p.m., my sinuses went berserk.  At first I couldn’t breathe, but after a while, my nose ran profusely.  I dug into the First Aid Kit and found some liquid Benadryl … which calmed me about an hour later.  Our first visitors of the night were the pack of coyotes, which sounded as if they were within 50 yds. of our camp.  By 9:30 p.m., they were so close and loud, I unzipped the bivy with my pistol in hand … and walked in plain sight of them.  They didn’t like that much … and left as quickly as they had appeared.

   The Benadryl must’ve finally kicked-in, ‘cause my son woke me a little after 11:00 p.m., and I could smell again.  Somethin’ was close to the camp, and reeked like skunk.  I whispered, “Do you smell that?” and he replied “Yeah!”  We sat in silence in the darkness, listenin’ for any sound.  Somethin’ could be heard movin’ around us … but I couldn’t figure-out exactly what it was.  Within’ 15-minutes, the smell was gone.  This really puzzled me, ‘cause if it would have been a skunk, and that skunk would’ve sprayed … the smell would have lingered ‘til mornin’.  But the smell dissipated when whatever it was could no longer be heard.  That was real unsettlin’ … and the .357 clutched against my chest seemed to lose its comfort appeal.  But that wasn’t as near as unsettlin’ as what would happen after midnight …

     I awoke again, but not ‘cause of any noise or smell … but ‘cause it was friggin’ cold!  There’s nothin’ worse than a damp cold … and bein’ that we were camped in a swamp … we had to play the cards we were dealt.  I really felt sorry for my son, ‘cause it was my fault we didn’t have our sleepin’ bags.  I had bass fished the last day-and-a-half in shorts and a t-shirt.  How in the Hell did it suddenly decide to get so friggin’ cold?  We each had on silk thermal underwear … both the tops & bottoms, jeans, a t-shirt, a huntin’ shirt, thick socks, huntin’ boots, and heavy jackets with hoods!  There was no wind, and we each had two thick 4’ X 8’ fleece throws; and I ain’t talkin’ them cheesy-ass rags you see at your local sportin’ goods store near the check-out aisles … I’m talkin’ thick-ass, heavy-duty sweat-shirt material.

     I had finally got back to sleep when my son woke me.  “Dad … I gotta pee.” he whispered.  Well, with what-all had already transpired with the coyotes comin’ into camp, and then the mystery animal that reeked of skunk movin’ about … you can’t expect a 14 year-old boy to hike out into the darkness to take a leak.  I unzipped the bivi and walked him to the edge of the slough.  He did his business, and we had just crawled back into the bivis and settled down.  Suddenly … I had to sneeze; I quickly buried my face into the crook of my arm and let go.  Within 5 seconds … we heard a huge splash in the slough behind us.  Now, I’m not talkin’ a beaver slappin’ its tail kind of splash … I’m talkin’ somethin’ penetratin’ the water, like a large rock.  Thing is … there ain’t no rocks out there!  I was now on full alert; we didn’t say a thing … we just sat and listened.  This happened two more times within’ the next hour, and then we must’ve finally fallen asleep.

     The next time I awoke, it was gettin’ first light.  After watchin’ my son finally sleepin’ peacefully … I got up and scouted for tracks or sign around the immediate area of our campsite.  I found nothin’ of any significance … except for coyote tracks.  There was no smell, either.  None of our gear was disturbed, and I made a quick hike to the boat … which was in the same state that we had left it.  While my son slept, I started packin’ gear and made another trip to the boat.  When he awoke, we talked about our night of roughin’ it while I fed him some granola and trail food.  What I needed to do was get him back to the poutin’ house for a hot shower and a proper breakfast.  We scouted some more after we broke camp … and then headed back to Cypress Village.  Thank God the boat ride back was not as cold as what we had endured the night before.  Once we got on Big Cypress, I let him drive so he could hunker behind the windshield …

     When we got back to our friend’s place … they had said that it had got down to 38° the night before!  I’ll never leave the sleepin’ bags again … and I’m sure my son would make damn-sure of that.  We relaxed the rest of the day, and didn’t fish ‘til Wednesday afternoon.  We scouted again mid-day on Thursday, and fished only in the mornin’s and evenin’s.  We left on Saturday, March 20, 2010 … two hours prior to the lake record bass bein’ caught on Caddo Lake.  My buddy called to see how far we had gotten, and told us the news.  We were fishin’ the exact same area where that bucket-mouthed sow was fought just the mornin’ before!  But another cold-front was comin’ in, and as much as I wanted to fish while the barometer started to drop, we had to pack our sh¡t & git ‘fore the weather got nasty.  I ain’t big on highway drivin’ while pullin’ a boat through nasty weather … ‘specially havin’ to drive through Houston!

 

     When I finally got to review my audio from the Olympus, I found that I had captured everything … includin’ the sneeze and the splash, as well as the other two splash incidents and a distant cry I cannot seem to identify.  It doesn’t sound like a coyote or a barred owl.  I’m not goin’ to say that it sounds like somethin’ when I ain’t really sure what it is.  That’s not what I do here … I only try and present evidence, not speculations.  One thing is for sure … I’ll be campin’ out there again!  I’ve already sat out there numerous times for several hours in my boat; say from sunset ‘til 2 or 3:00 a.m., but I haven’t had the luck that my son and I had that cold night in 2010.  As bad as the giant salvinia has gotten this past year, I can no longer get my boat back there … so maybe after huntin’ season is over, I’ll get as far as my boat will carry me … hike-in and do some more campin’.  And when I do, I’ll be sure and post whatever I may or may not encounter.  ‘Til then, y’all take care … and be sure to stay warm this winter!