Diary Entry-Rattesnake Creek, Sasquatch SCAT, and onward to Leggett.

We got the lowdown on the Rattlesnake Creek from Karen. Her memories weren’t foggy. Everything she said aligned with the report she filed with BRFO.

Unlike Terry, she didn’t seem all that scarred from her encounter. Karen exuded a certain (country) confidence likely born of countless time spent out in the wild. I’m sure she’s seen and dealt with (nearly) everything.

She reminded me of Linda Hamilton from the Terminator movies. I wouldn’t want to tangle with her. Get on her bad side and I imagine she couldn’t be reasoned with, bargained with, or stopped.

But, her description of how she felt that night by the creek didn’t quite jibe with the tough woman I talked to yesterday. Maybe she became tough because of her experience at Rattlesnake Creek? Trauma can toughen people.

After talking with Karen, we made our way to the creek. There wasn’t much that caught my attention at first. Sure, the place gave off a weird vibe, but that was about it. Well, until nightfall anyway.

I drifted off and found myself neck deep in another bizarre dream. The details got fuzzy shortly after I woke. I remember only bits and pieces. If I strain I can vaguely recall strange noises in the night, a dark figure in the shadows, and Sherman howling in response to an otherworldly sound.

The next morning, the stench Karen spoke of was omnipresent. I nearly stepped in the source of the stench on the ridge. It was an epic, mountainous mound of scat.

The stench of the scat made me light headed and dizzy. It was akin to a case of rotten eggs. Throwing on my buff did little to stifle the smell.

I got a few pics of the scat mound. But, I knew that wouldn’t be enough. I used a large piece of bark and a small airtight container to obtain a sample.

I suppose one could now call me a SquatchSCATologist. It’s not a job title I wear with pride. But, aside from the odd hair I found back at Fort Ross, I don’t have much proof that Sassy is the real deal.

With Sherman by my side and an airtight container of squatch scat in the backseat, we’re moving on to Leggett. An interesting story involving a possible encounter occurred at Standish-Hickey State Recreation Area. The road trip veers inland and ever closer to the heart of Sasquatch country in Northern California.