Sasquatch Chronicles

Bernie writes "Wes, I'm seventy three years old now and live in the beautiful Texas hill country southwest of Austin. This is what happened fourteen years ago. It was my last night at work and I was closing up my department in Salmon Creek, at the north end of Vancouver, Washington. My best friend called and asked if I was flying out soon. She wanted me to come by, and said she had a twelve pack of Blue Moon. "Prettiest lady I know" I affirmed as I headed toward Battleground. We hung out for a couple hours. Her boyfriend had cheated on her and I listened to her broken heart with sympathy, and I tried to give her hope for the future. We said our hasta la vistas. I got back on I-5 north and got off at Woodland and headed up Lewis River Road. I had been living there for six weeks in a spare bedroom I was renting. It was a ways to my boss's property, on up past the fish hatchery, almost to Ariel where D.B. Cooper supposedly bailed out of that airliner, west of Mt. St. Helens. The moon was nearly full on that nigh