the self-proclaimed experts agree on. The Sasquatch community is known for its incessant infighting and divergent views on what Bigfoot actually is and where it falls in the grand scheme of nature. Vectors of discord crisscross the entire field of what I call “Sasqualogy.” The fault lines in these debates are many and the bickering is often cantankerous, if not outright vicious.
Investigators tend to fall within three main groups, believing Sasquatches are either: (a) animals, (b) spirits, or (c) extraterrestrials. Some in the first group believe Bigfoots are a surviving species of great ape, a conclusion drawn from their general appearance and apelike behaviors. These investigators have drawn a hypothetical connection between Sasquatch and an enormous prehistoric species of Asian gorilla (inferred by tooth and jaw remains) known to science as Gigantopithecus blacki. “Not so!” says an opposing clique, which insists the animals are far more humanlike, given their higher intelligence, behavior, and self-awareness. Their adroitness in remaining almost entirely concealed, according to this clique, is indisputable proof of that claim.
Those who take the spiritual line (b), sometimes called paranormalists, invest the animals with supernatural qualities such as prescience, telepathy, trans-dimensional movement, and the ability to shape-shift into other objects (or animals) or inflict injury or death by psychic means. For them, the creatures can be benevolent or malevolent depending on the eyewitness’s spiritual condition and intent. Though evasive, Bigfoots will communicate with humans that they deem worthy enough. Some members of the newest generation of Bigfooters have recorded and posted online pictures and footage showing the results of reported gift exchanges with Sasquatches. Orbs woven from twigs, marbles, and squirrels with their heads bitten off are among some of the goodwill offerings.
Of course, stories of UFOs and space aliens also tend to elbow their way into discussions about Bigfoot. The extraterrestrial proponents (c) claim Sasquatches were dropped off on our planet aeons ago for purposes ranging from Earth-colonization to the study of human behavior.
Every difference of opinion between researchers eventually finds expression in online fisticuffs. One group believes a Sasquatch should be shot and killed to prove its existence. Another faction, outraged, says Bigfoots are an endangered species and must be protected at all costs. Somewhat famous and well-paid reality-TV Sasqualogists endure murmurs of envious criticism from their cash-strapped counterparts who work in obscurity. Debates have even raged over the plural form of Bigfoot. Is it Bigfoots—or Bigfeet? Or is it simply Bigfoot? Sensitive Sasqualogists insist the term Forest People is more politically correct than the moniker Bush Indian. Every significant shred of data and every hypothesis put forward by a researcher draws its inevitable detractors from some other camp. Even interesting and creative conjectures, like those positing that Bigfoots emit paralysis-inducing infrasound in their vocalizations (as tigers do to stun their prey when they roar before attacking) or that they generate bioluminescent light from their eyes to see in the dark (explaining eyewitness accounts of eyes shining at night) are eventually derided.
This frenzy of antagonism, reminiscent of the bickering common in academia, can at times mimic a battle-royal scene out of professional wrestling, with dozens of athletes pummeling one another, each in an attempt to emerge the lone victor. Meanwhile, the hardened skeptic, a combatant in his own right, stands at ringside, pointing to the spectacle as proof that what Bigfooters say exists simply cannot.
I don’t recall the exact sequence of events, or the watershed moment, when I was captured by the Bigfoot mystery as a kid. But certain memories stand out. The main one is reading a cache of Sasquatch books from the local public library during my primary and early high school years, hardcover tomes sporting pseudoscientific titles superimposed over illustrations of footprints or shadowy woods with silhouetted humanoids peering out of them:
On the Track of the Sasquatch
The Sasquatch File
Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us
The Search for Bigfoot: Monster, Myth or Man?
Wildmen: Yeti, Sasquatch and the Neanderthal Enigma
Do Abominable Snowmen of America Really Exist?
The Bigfoot and Yeti books were slotted into a crowded section in the back corner of the library and shared space with other cryptozoological gospels. They were bracketed by titles on the Bermuda Triangle at one end and a larger collection of books on UFOs at the other. I grew up during a time when Sasquatch fever ran rampant. It was the 1970s, a cultural epoch in which receptivity to paranormal subjects and “the unexplained” was particularly high. Bigfoots and Yetis, despite their rarity and their elusive nature, appeared everywhere—in books, television, movies, and