I had my first Bigfoot counter back in February of 1998 in Goldendale, Washington.

It happened on a trip with my father and my uncle.

A little bit about my family and you need to understand is that they don't camp like

everyone else, none of them own a tent or a trailer.

We prefer throwing a mattress in the bed of a truck or sleeping up front along the bench

seats of an F-250 pickup truck.

I'm the youngest and I usually got the back seat.

On this day there was enough daylight to make two walks through the woods.

My uncle dropped me and my father off at a place that we call the lake beds.

The plan was for my uncle to pick us up the road down below the rock bluff, which

is 20 minutes away on foot.

I told my father I'd be walking west down the slopes while he took off to the east.

I noticed the birds and the light breeze blowing through the trees.

There was a deer trail and I was looking at fresh tracks and at one point I glanced

behind me because I thought I heard my father, but there was no one there so I kept walking

down toward the same road where my uncle had picked me up on previous hikes.

I heard a deer close by.

I figured it was a deer judging by the light, weight, sound of its hooves hitting the

ground.

I didn't understand what had spooked it.

The wind was at my back and then I realized the birds and the chipmunks weren't flying

around or singing or making any noise.

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