Is Real!'' Forest Love Slave Tells All! (Cont.)" affiliate_link=on header_type=header>
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Outside Magazine August 2002
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''Sasquatch Is Real!'' Forest Love Slave Tells All! (Cont.)

Come to the light: Nightcrawling the Gifford Pinchot Forest for signs of you-know-who. (David Barry)

I'M STANDING WITH A GROUP OF HUNTERS from the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization at a forest-road turnout overlooking Quartz Creek Valley, a remote hollow deep in the primal animal heart of Washington's 1.3 million-acre Gifford Pinchot National Forest. It's midnight, and LeRoy Fish, a 59-year-old wildlife biologist, former Alaska hunting guide, and BFRO stalwart, is setting two stereo speakers on the roof of his crew's SUV and plugging a Sony Discman into a 500-watt amp powered by a spare car battery. In the world of Bigfoot enthusiasts, there are many purported sound recordings of the quarry, all of which are named after the place of origin: Sierra, Puyallup, Snohomish. This is the Tahoe call, Fish explains, captured near the lake in August 2000.

"Everybody ready to listen?" Brian Smith, a cocky 33-year-old apartment manager from Walla Walla, says into his CB radio. Five BFRO spotters parked at listening posts below us and across the valley give Smith a 10-4. "Our ears are on," comes the reply.

Fish presses play, and the speakers erupt with the eeriest chalkboard-scratchin', terror-in-the-dark screech I've ever heard.

REEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooowwwwghghghghghgh!!!!!!

Silence.

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Is there anybody out there?: Scanning the horizon for the big-footed one. (David Barry)

"If there's an animal out there," Fish whispers, "it'll return call almost immediately."

We stare out at the blackened valley, ears cocked.

More silence.

"Let's try it again, a little louder," says Smith.

Fish broadcasts the screech over and over for the next three hours, but the Tahoe call draws no lovelorn Sasquatches out of the woods. Around 3:30 a.m., Fish and Smith radio the spotters that it's time to call it a night. Then they unplug the speakers and head back to camp for a couple hours of sleep.

They've got to be rested. Tomorrow could be the day.



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