By Sam Squatch
Staff ‘foot Writer
Staff ‘foot Writer
You’ve got your Bigfoot hunting license, a full stomach, you’re geared up and you may’ve even purchased one of those 103” Bigfoot stuffed animal toys, which make the Costco bears look like kid stuff. You can officially call yourself a Footer.
Now it’s time to get in line for one of the park buses to take you into Bigfoot’s playground and on your way to finding the most popular yeti of all time.
Buses usually show up right on the hour. Except they’re always late. In the meantime, enjoy the Bigfoot Finders Festival right there in Lodgers Square. You’ll see the banners everywhere: “Long Live ‘foot” and “Bigfoot or Bust,” they read. Monsters from all over Transyl-vein-ia will be singing Bigfoot carols. Take advantage of the Bigfoot snack carts in the square, which offer some of the best goodies, like Bigfoot gummies, chocolate Bigfoot bars and Bigfoot fungus. Yum!
When your bus arrives, it’s first come, first serve. To get a seat, you must claw, shred, bite, cast a wicked witch spell (which reminds me: No witches allowed in Bigfoot National Park -- go see the ranger immediately to be thrown into the Tar Pits) . . . All others should do whatever they can to get a ride. Werewolves are required to travel in a trailer -- they’ve torn up the upholstery on one too many bus seats in the past. If you’re a werewolf and there’s no trailer on the bus, ask your driver a special accommodation, and if he has no trailer to hook up, he’ll gladly throw you into the Tar Pits.
Once you’ve taken your seat aboard the bus, your driver will shut the doors and pull away. He’ll take you into the park by way of Bigfoot Falls. It’s a stunning view, especially as you go over the falls.
Once you’re in the park, be on the lookout for Bigfoot. He could be anywhere. Your bus driver will drop you off at Camp Slasher Psycho. That’s where you Footers will set up camp.
You’ll be happy to discover that the human campers you’ll be sharing the grounds with are dumber and more reckless than ever, which means, for all you hockey mask-wearing guys and gals out there, you’ll have your work cut out for you.
I recommend setting up camp promptly and getting on your way. There’s no time for rest and rel-axe-ation. You’re certainly not going to catch a glimpse of Bigfoot sitting (or slitting) around.
There are several trails leading out of Camp Slasher Psycho. Take any of them. Every trail leads you into dangerous wildlife corridors.
You may end up in Killer Bee Bend where yellow jackets the size of baseballs use their lethal stingers to play darts with your head.
Or you may run into Lake Larry, where the Loch Ness Monster has been seen practicing his backstroke. Hopefully, you filled up on coffee while waiting for your bus earlier in the day so you’ll be forced to use the larry (a.k.a. the latrine) near the lake’s pier. If you had nightmares of finding Bigfoot, kiss that possibility goodbye. The Larry Monster loves suckers like you. He sucks you right down into the toilet. He loves that coffee filling inside of you.
There’s also a trail that takes you to the Ghost Glaciers. You guessed it -- the ice is haunted. Not only do these slowly moving rivers of ice collapse and send guests into the freezing cold water below, but ghosts do their best to hold you under. It’s one of the perks. If you’re an ice monster, take advantage of the fantastic swimming possibilities.
Wherever you end up, chances are you haven’t seen a clue of Bigfoot’s presence. That’s because he’s hard to find. And he may be on to you.
Those of you who purchased the Bigfoot Survival Guide (which is still available on my website for a mere $6.66), you’ll know you should’ve been limited to a strict lemon juice-diluted-with-water diet for the past two weeks to eliminate your body odor so Bigfoot can’t smell you. If you drank the coffee in Lodgers Square while waiting for the bus, remember, you didn’t make it past the Larry Monster anyway, so it doesn’t matter. But if Bigfoot doesn’t smell you, you may be getting close.
Be quiet . . . Listen . . . Can you hear him? Can you smell his DQ Blizzard-breath? That might be him.
If it’s not him, you might’ve wasted your money on this trip. Even if you find him, it doesn’t matter, because if you’ve made it this far into the park, you’ll never make it out to tell anyone about it. The real fun is still to come.
This is one in a series of TRAVEL STORIES from the 13 districts of Transyl-vein-ia. These stories run weekdays between August and September. Jack-o’-Lantern Press’s regular news and entertainment coverage will continue in October.