In its heyday it was OK to hunt Bigfoot. Bigfoot was Yeti, and the most respected anthropologists in Britain and America believed Yeti was a Gigantopithecus. A real survivor of a primeval time was still around, and this made it all an acceptable hunt. Gigantopithecus was real and therefore Bigfoot could be real, despite the topic being surrounded by what was viewed as redneck machinations.
As Bigfoot evolved in the hands of hopeful Bigfooters, he became less believable, less animal and more some comic apeman that seemed inspired more from popular TV and novelettes. Most scientists bailed, shouldering the possibility that Bigfoot was Gigantopithecus or something close.
The Patterson Film finally did it in. It gave us a buxom but otherwise confusing chimera of the Pacific Northwest that didn’t match anything the old journals had spoken about, nor did it resemble anything the Indian tribes had mentioned.
Society, however, latched onto an image that could crystalize the pursuit. This became Bigfoot. A single species, a cone headed apeman/gorilla.
But shouldering a theory doesn’t mean putting it away. You carry it with you, always on your back, always ready to unpack it when the time comes.
It is at this juncture that we find ourselves again. I unshouldered the pack again and pulled out Ameranthropoides Loysi. In Recasting Bigfoot I showed all the evidence suggesting that part of the legend of “animal humans” in the Pacific Northwest of the USA and Canada is based on the existence of a native American anthropoid.
Bigfootery was aghast. Zoology and anthropology were not. Even former humbugs of Bigfootery acknowledge there were serious field researchers now.
The substance behind the new Bigfootery is not high profiled. The horrid narrative of cheap monster quests still dominates the ether. It remains secretive because all Bigfooters guard their turf. It is as Jack W. Ondrack declared at the Western Society of Sociology and Anthropology in Banff.
“In the recent past, Sasquatch research has been conducted by poorly financed, untrained, dedicated men. A Sasquatch hunt with these people reminds one of a Humphrey Bogart movie in which a number of individuals having idiosyncratic and conflicting goals cooperate sporadically to bring a mutual goal closer to attainment. This goal however is mutual only in the sense that each man wants to find a Sasquatch, and not in the sense that each man wants somebody to find a Sasquatch.”
Soto voce though the voice may be, the substance of New Bigfootery exists. Slowly but surely, it is time we start speaking about the new quests. It is time we transpose back into the past, put on our flannel scotch plaid shirts and venture into the untamed wilds of the PNW– not as tourists of old legends that have become imbedded in Bigfoot lore, but to new places where many and exciting adventures wait to be born on a quest for the “ultimate hunt.”
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Since 1990 Gian J. Quasar has investigated a broad range of mysterious subjects, from strange disappearances to serial murders, earning in that time the unique distinction of being likened to “the real life Kolchak.” However, he is much more at home with being called The Quester. “He’s bloody eccentric, an historian with no qualifications who sticks his nose into affairs and gets results.” He is the author of several books, one of which inspired a Resolution in Congress.