A RECENT TRIP TO THE GOOD OL’ US-OF-A gave me my first real encounter with Bigfoot … aka, the Sasquatch. Prior to this, Bigfoot had been the stuff of legends – something read about in books or seen on TV. But most of my memories came from Scooby-Doo cartoons, where Bigfoot is a scary monster that frightens lots of people – until the mask gets pulled off, revealing some bad guy who likes dressing up. In other words, it’s not real.
However, America changed all that …
When my eldest daughter and I flew to the US earlier this year, we had no idea the Sasquatch would reveal itself and challenge my long-held beliefs. My youngest daughter had just finished working at Camp America in Washington State, and we were heading up to meet her and begin a four-week road-trip together. But, unbeknownst to us, we were heading into prime Bigfoot country.
One of my good friends (let’s call her Cherie, to protect her identity) had been in touch when we first arrived in the States. She and her husband were frequent travellers to this part of the world and had given us valuable tips on where to go and what side of the road to drive on. What I didn’t realise was that she was a diehard Squatcher, aka Bigfooter. She was an avid viewer of the Finding Bigfoot docuseries and the rumoured head of the New Zealand chapter of BFRO (Bigfoot Field Researchers Organisation), and her excitement became palpable when she found out where we were going.
To Cherie’s delight, Washington State, Oregon, and Northern California were all on our road-trip route. These are all areas frequented by Bigfooters, partaking in their favourite pastime: Squatchin’ (the act of searching for Bigfoot) – and they have the most recorded sightings. So, armed with newfound knowledge from Cherie and the BFRO, we added ‘try to spot Bigfoot’ to our itinerary.
We took the coast route from Washington, through Oregon and down into California. Both states reminded us of New Zealand – green, with lots of forested areas, and a similar climate. We chose the coast route because most Americans said the ocean views and rugged coastline were spectacular. And they were … when the fog finally cleared. (Although nothing compares to Godzone’s coastal splendour.)
It wasn’t long before we saw signs of Bigfoot’s presence. Shops, towns, and tourist attractions all held this ape-like humanoid in high regard. Bigfoot was big business in the Pacific Northwest. Undeterred by the commercialisation of the Sasquatch, we carefully hunted the million acres of Washington’s Olympic National Park (a BF hotspot!), plus the 2.2 million acres of the incredible redwood forests of Oregon and California, hoping to spot this elusive hairy beast. (And when I say ‘carefully hunted’, I mean, drove through them at 60 miles an hour.)
But those redwood forests? Wow … they are seriously a sight to behold! The enormous sequoias dwarf anything we have in NZ – in fact, I drove our big rental SUV right through the middle of one! The tallest redwood measures over 116m, the widest more than 11m, and many are over 3000 years old! The Redwood National Park in Northern California was particularly impressive, and the girls and I spent hours walking through the woods tracking Bigfoot, feeling incredibly insignificant, and in awe of these forest giants. In truth, they were quite a distraction – and we spent more time looking up than looking for our furry target.
Bigfoot’s rugged and remote habitat seemed to stretch forever, and it was easy to see how they can remain so well hidden. In all our searching, we only managed to see a couple of quick glimpses of what was undoubtedly, possibly, and almost verifiably, the mysterious beast. Thankfully, we had our cameras rolling to capture the moment.
Cherie would be proud!
I returned home to New Zealand a seasoned Squatcher, but reluctantly had to leave my newfound pastime of Squatchin’ to the backburner. Bigfoot (or so I thought) would have to wait until my next trip to ‘Merica. But I was soon to learn that in Godzone we have our own version of Gigantopiticus americanum …
… the Moehau Man.
Originating in the rugged mountains of the Coromandel Peninsula, it’s described as a large, extremely hairy hominid with arms reaching down to the knees, long, sharp fingers, and a distinct odour. While some might argue that sounds like many of Coromandel’s residents (and not that rare at all), a hunter interviewed in 2022 described an encounter he had with this cryptid. According to the man, the creature was 13 feet tall and threw rocks at him. I’ve lived in the Coromandel for 20 years, and I’ve yet to meet a local who can throw rocks (and at least give the story verifiable credibility).
It seems our very own Bigfoot is not just limited to the Coromandel Peninsula. He/she/it (I’m a little unsure of its pronouns) has been spotted around the country, with reported sightings in Fiordland and the Urewera Ranges. In fact, two trampers reported seeing a group of seven – including juveniles – dressed in animal hides near Lake Waikaremoana. This was in 1983 – which was before the Internet, so it must be true.
Speaking of Fiordland, one other mythical creature that deserves attention (and possibly an entire article itself) is the Fiordland Moose. And if you aren’t aware of the surrounding folklore, let me brief you. In 1910, ten Canadian mooses (or meese) were released in Dusky Sound on the southeastern corner of Fiordland. While they established a presence, they never really thrived, and were officially considered extinct by the mid-20th century.
However, there’s compelling evidence suggesting a remnant population may still survive – including a cast antler, DNA analysis, and photo/video proof. Fiordland is also about three million acres in size, and contains some of the most rugged, inhospitable terrain in the country: in short, a pretty good place to hide.
So, to sum up: while my American Bigfoot itch can’t be scratched at the moment, New Zealand has its own fair share of mythical entities just waiting to be captured. (And by capture, I mean probably in a net. No one believes photos or videos anymore. Have you seen what AI can do nowadays?) So I think Fiordland’s where I’m going to start, because I can probably kill two birds with one stone – maybe even three.
The Moehau Man and Moose had better watch out. And I also have it on good authority that, when the moon is full, and a light nor-wester is blowing on the Fiordland tops during a lunar eclipse; and when Orion’s Belt is undone, and a cool Antarctic southerly causes an involuntary shiver, you can hear the cry of the Megalapteryx didinus – the Upland Moa – sitting in the tops of the silver beech tree …
Moehau Man, Moose, and Moa … Mmmm!
IF MIKE’S CALCULATIONS ARE CORRECT (AND THERE’S NO GOOD REASON TO SUGGEST THEY’RE NOT) AN EXPLORATORY MISSION INTO FIORDLAND WILL BE ORGANISED SHORTLY, SOON FOLLOWED BY THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE MMMMFRO.
