Shaving Sasquatch

I was a very lucky boy during the sixties. I lived in Anaheim, California, close to about everything that was nationally popular. The beach, Disneyland, Knots Berry Farm, the desert, the mountains, and all the movie companies. I’ve known people that went surfing in the morning, snow-skiing that same afternoon, then camping in the desert that night. I’ve been to all those places in one day only. I didn’t ski. Southern California was magical during the sixties. The surfing movies, rock music, Hollywood, and the movie stars. The hippies began a change that swept away most of everything and started the seventies. I wasn’t a hippie, though. I was a Boy Scout and did sports at school. So I wasn’t really part of any fad or group that received fame. I did get to see a widened range of the western states mountains. Primarily the High Sierras of California and the Uintah Mountains in Utah. I’ve seen just about every wild animal in the United States out in the wild itself. I’ve never seen a Sasquatch, but I’ve heard an amazing and loud noise that wasn’t man-made. As I’ve researched the sounds of animals that were in those areas, nothing resembled it—not even close! I’ve also smelled an odor that was amazingly pungent and stinky. However, it was not a skunk (of which I’ve also had hands-on experience). I’ve felt the surreal and strange feeling of being followed by that same loud and stinky animal. That was a very moving experience (I was really moved that day)! I’ve done most of what I’ve written about in this book (except the getting lost for days). I hope you’ll enjoy this story. I’ve sort of lived it.

-- John Boshard