(photo effect by befunky)
Ms. Kathy: Her Adventure at the Oregon Caves
Ms. Kathy Bigfoot will now tell you her side of the “Adventure at Oregon Caves.” Where was she when Linda almost fell into oblivion as she broke through the ice bridge over a swift flowing stream? How did she manage to overnight in the Perry’s room without being discovered?
It was a beautiful day, to me that is. (Linda Newton-Perry and her son, Robert Perry, both complained that it could have been a little warmer, a little sunnier.) The drive to the Oregon Caves was uneventful, except that I was crammed into the backseat of the gas efficient rental car. It was politely explained that since I could neither drive nor read the directions on the roadmap that the backseat was the ideal spot for me.
The drive seemed to take no time at all. We took the freeway south and cut across at Grants Pass to Cave Junction and then made our way up the mountain road to the Oregon Caves. Robert Perry drove and did a fine job of it, I might say. We argued only once when I required a stop to “make water.” It was either stop the car or the backseat would be flooded. And then, of course, the rental agency would charge for a thorough cleaning of the car.
(If you are wondering how I hid the fact that I’m a bigfoot, well, I wore a sweatshirt with a hood and covered my pretty chestnut locks with it whenever it was necessary. I did this on the whole trip.)
We arrived too early to check into our room. So off we went on our hike. We breezed up the steps and smartly took the trail named Big Tree Loop Trail. I at once, enjoying the smells and sounds of my mother environment, fell behind to take it all in. Linda reminded me to put the hood up if we should meet hikers. I nodded in her direction as I stepped onto a patch of spongy moss (ah, pure heaven to my big ole bare feet).
It was agreed that we would hike the trail for one half hour, since the sign at the begining of the trail said it would take at least one and a half hours. But when the half hour limit arrived, we all decided to hike on. The trail, we three agreed, was so enjoyable and we were not a bit tired. I fell farther and farther behind, finally I lost sight of mother and son as they hiked ahead.
The only reason that I came on this road trip is that a Dr. Matthew Johnson, July 1, 2000, observed a bigfoot on this trail that we were now on. I was just warm and fuzzy content to be in the same area as one of my own kind had been. And I was giddy with excitement, (well, my nose would not stop quivering), at the mere thought of catching a whiff of a fellow bigfoot, not to mention the possibility of actually seeing one. Oh, my senses were on a knife’s edge.
We were now so high up the mountain that snow covered the trail for twenty-thirty feet at a span. I several times heard whoops and shouts from the Perry’s, but thought they were just having a grand time. When we talked after the hike, I told them that I too thought we would never reach the Big Tree, never start our decent. (The hike took us four and a half hours!)
Finally, the big tree loomed in front of me. We took several photos and hiked on. At last we started down the mountain. I again hung back to enjoy the quiet of the trail. I enjoy my friends, the Perry’s, but in the wild I prefer no human voices.
So, in short, I missed the drama of Linda almost falling through the snow into the rushing stream. When I arrived at the troublesome spot, I simply took a running leap and cleared it, without thinking about the danger. Indeed, it was no danger to me. I could see that the mushy snow was bridging the stream and if I walked across it, I would fall in.
After we found out that the Big Tree Trail was closed to the public and we shouldn’t have been hiking it, we spent our evening wondering how in the world we escaped knowing this. There was not one sign to tell us, that we could see. All three of us were hot with anger.
I regret that I did not keep up with the Perry’s on the trail. I could, of course, have been of help to my friends. But, Robert Perry proved a level-headed thinker and to his mother he is a genuine hero! And about this we spoke much, as well.
The End
(Ms. Kathy Bigfoot is not real. She is a made up bigfoot. This type of story is called fiction.)
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