Sasquatch Sighting Silliness

I've been doing this blog for a while now and I've covered a virtual cornucopia of topics. I can't recall if I've ever gone over a definitely backwoods, probably drunken, definitely hilarious, Bigfoot sighting before. Good thing there's a first time for everything because this is definitely one for the books. God bless the South.

Welcome to Cleveland County in North Carolina. It is here that we meet a one Tim Peeler. Mr. Peeler apparently has a penchant for calling coyotes. I don't know why he wants to call coyotes and I certainly don't know how he thinks that he's going to get any coyotes to pay attention to him with his obviously homemade coyote calling device. The thing looks like a coffee can attached to a kazoo and sounds like a duck stuck head first in a tailpipe. It's not a coyote call. Granted, I'm not much for the outdoors, but there are coyotes in the hills behind my walled off compound and the ones that I hear don't sound like ducks. But this is all just an amusing side note. It has nothing to do with what happened after Mr. Peeler and his homemade coyote caller got down to business.

According to the fine folks over there at Channel 36 News and Real Radio 104.1, Mr. Peeler was making the duck noises with his coffee can when, in his own words, "Instead of them...HIM." And then he points off into the distance. Dun-dun-DUNNNNNN!



By "him", Mr. Peeler was referring, of course, to Sasquatch. That's right. Bigfoot himself. He goes on to describe his encounter with whatever it was that he thinks that he saw by explaining, "This thing was ten foot tall." And then, for some reason, it's like he has to catch his breath. He wasn't running a marathon or anything when he was telling the news person this. He was just standing there. But he does make that, um, sort of, uh, backwoods dweller noise at the end of every sentence. It's kind of like a deep sigh, but it has a little touch of "Uhhh" or "Ummm" thrown in. It's almost like he's winded after every sentence. I'm sure I'm not doing it justice with my explanation here, but believe me, you'd know it when you heard it.

As Clem continues with his poetic description, I kind of wonder if he wasn't drawn to this creature in more ways than one. He seems like he's talking about his girlfriend when he says, "He had beautiful hair." Huh. Yeah, that's new. He seems to be rather enamored by...whatever it was that he thinks he saw. Just exactly how much have you had to drink today there, Cletus? You sure that there wasn't any tender lovin' going on before you called 911?

As the story progresses, we get a little shot of Tim's porch. It looks just like you'd expect it to look. It's rustic. It's wooden. It's covered in crap. The only thing that's missing is one of those hillbilly cellos made out of a jug of hooch and a stick. It's Rube Holler. It couldn't be any more hillbilly if it were a Hollywood movie set. Rustic is an understatement. The Beverly Hillbillies pre-oil discovery might be making it sound too nice.


So how did Tim get himself out of the encounter with the alleged Sasquatch? According to him, "I come like here (deep wheezing breath and long pause) and I roughtalked him (deep wheezing breath and long pause) and run him awf!" (That's "off" with the hillbilly accent. Awf.) But the creature came back (allegedly) and to get rid of him, he apparently picked up a large stick and said, "And I said git away from here! Git! (Stick thrust. Long pause to catch his breath.) Git! (Stick thrust. Long pause to catch his breath.) And he went right back out that path again....(as he points to the "path" and his voice trails off....)"

What do you suppose he is wearing draped over one shoulder there? It looks to be like some sort of a rope, but I can't figure out the purpose of it. It goes from his shoulder all the way down to the opposite hip. Think it has something to do with Bigfoot huntin'? It just might. I've heard of stranger things (though most of them have been in this story).


He finished up his tale with a wistful remembrance of the creature's digits. "He looked like he had six fingers on each hand." This as he sketched a likeness of what he saw. Let's take a gander, shall we? Behold! Um, Sasquatch!


Well, hey! Wait a minute! That's not Sasquatch! That's one of them there Oakridge Boys! Behold!

Mystery solved. Carry on, Cooter.