I saw a Sasquatch, otherwise known as Big Foot, when I was six or seven years old.
I had a magical childhood; from ages 3-8 (1974- 1979 or so) I lived in the Holiday Motel, by the Sasquatch caves out in Hope, BC. I explored every nook and cranny of the property and surrounding woods, it seemed; I was always covered in sand, mud or snow. I have even been deep inside the caves, before the loose rocks filled those areas in. It wasn’t inside the caves that I saw a Sasquatch though, but outside, in the twilight of a snowy day.
I was trying to build an igloo, and not having much success because the snow was so dry and fluffy. I was on the front lawn of the house on the property. To my left was a gravel, snow covered road going up into a trailer park on the upper levels of the property. I saw the Sasquatch just as he came out of the woods on the right hand side of the road, and loped across to the left, disappearing back into the woods. He was very tall, and he crossed the road very quickly, literally in a couple of blinks, because his legs were so long. I remember vividly his hair blowing in the wind and mingling with the snowflakes; he almost blended in. He was a whirlwind of grace and fur. I would have totally missed him, if I hadn’t been looking right where he came out of the woods, at the exact second that he came out.
Most likely no one believed me; Big Foot is favorite debate among the locals. But I know what I saw, and can’t erase the sense of awe.