Believers hear Bigfoot's howl
50 who paid $300 each to prowl U.P. woods for the beast weren't disappointed.
Francis X. Donnelly / The Detroit News
MARQUETTE, Mich. -- In the middle of the night, a group tried to lure an elusive beast from its lair deep in the woods.
A man banged on a tree with a stick. Another beat his chest, Tarzan-like. Another uttered deep guttural screams.
And then, seconds after the last yell, from the blackness surrounding them, came a low-pitched howl that made the searchers shiver:
"Aaaaiiiieeeeeee."
Bigfoot!
The searchers not only believe the legendary mannish ape is frolicking through the forest east of this Upper Peninsula community, but also captured its mournful yelp on tape Thursday night.
The Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization, a California group running the search, will add the audio recording to what it said are footprints, sightings and other mounting evidence from past expeditions.
"I'm not a believer. I'm a knower," said the group's president, Matt Moneymaker. "You've had to be in total denial to say that none exist."
At the very least, the big ape is a big draw.
About 50 people from the Midwest gladly forked over $300 to join the four-day Michigan search that ends Sunday. It was sold out, as are expeditions planned for Utah and New Mexico.
The paying investigators say the cost is small compared to the chance of spotting a legend.
They're among the legion of true believers whose views are bolstered by a growing number of Internet sites reporting sightings and some prominent academics who won't rule out the possibility that the beast exists.
Don Young, 43, a hunting and fishing guide from Phillips, Wis., said he has wanted to prove the existence of Bigfoot ever since spotting one near his home a second time in 2004.
"It's a need," he said. "There's a need for me to prove it."
Since the last sighting, he has devoted 60 hours a week looking for the beast.
Why the U.P.?
Why the Upper Peninsula? Why not?
Once relegated to supermarket tabloids and the Pacific Northwest, Bigfoot or Sasquatch has been turning up everywhere lately: the cornfields of the Midwest, the swamps of Florida, the piedmont of North Carolina.
The ultimate loner, it was just a matter of time before it discovered the remote wilds of the U.P., where residents live far from each other and like it that way.
Still, some residents are dubious.
"Bigfoot?" laughed Toni Peake, 34, who lives near the woods being searched by the group. "Is he single?"
Local officials were tickled pink to host the search.
The Convention and Visitors Bureau of Marquette County, which has been getting calls from out-of-towners about the quest, said the monster could draw tourists to the area.
Director Pat Black said downstate residents probably aren't surprised to learn that Bigfoot toils in the U.P.
"We're the place that has psychic moose," she joked.
According to Moneymaker, who has been studying Bigfoot for decades, Marquette County's newest denizen could be 11 feet tall, weigh 2,000 pounds and have feet that reach 20 inches.
It's shy, nocturnal, eats meat and plants, and makes nests from trees and brush, he said.
He believes there are thousands of Bigfoots (Bigfeet?) roaming the Earth.
Other searchers, like Erik Beckjord of Berkeley, Calif., believe it's an extraterrestrial.
"It is more of a space-time creature, ala Einstein and parallel universes, rather than a trappable being," he said.
Whatever its size, number or universe, the primate has held a primal allure that spans oceans and centuries.
Since the 1800s, places as disparate as Australia and Tibet have worried about being attacked by some type of mammoth creature under various rubrics, Yeti, Yowie, the Abominable Snowman.
Even today, a handful of anthropologists and zoologists, such as Jane Goodall, said it's possible such a beast is roaming the Earth.
Preparing to search
Stalking a ghost, even a big, hairy, smelly one, takes preparation.
On Thursday, Moneymaker talked to four residents who claimed to have seen Bigfoot locally over the past 40 years.
"My one brother thinks I'm nuts," said Kathy Morrison, 40, a Big Bay resident who said she saw the creature nearly 30 years ago.
"She believes in ghosts," interrupted her son, Joey.
After learning the locations of the encounters, Moneymaker used a topographical map to figure out the best place to listen to the beast's "echoing vocalizations."
A few searchers ventured into the woods to look for tracks, scat, nests, any signs of what they call Squatch.
They studied the terrain to learn what type of habitat it most enjoys, but discounted the significance of a nearby casino and golf course.
At night, the searchers broke into groups of three to five at an RV park and campground along Lake Superior.
The 50 attendees are mostly middle-aged men from neighboring states whose jobs range from teachers to computer programmers to a lawyer.
Half are first-timers, while some have gone on a half-dozen expeditions.
Larry Lacke, 53, a chemist for a Milwaukee brewery, said he has been curious about Bigfoot ever since hearing a bizarre howling on a Texas hunting trip seven years ago.
"I've heard a lot of animals but none like this," he said. "I'm trying to keep an open mind."
The smaller groups moved gingerly through the blackness. Approaching a targeted area from different angles, they communicated through walkie-talkies with ear pieces.
They lugged all types of high-tech equipment: night-vision goggles, motion-detective devices, digital audio recorders and a helmet-mounted thermal-imaging camcorder.
Before capturing Sasquatch on tape, however, the searchers needed to lure it toward them.
They banged on trees with sticks and emitted long howls, trying to pique what Moneymaker said is the creature's innate curiosity.
They also spread various types of bait on rocks: apples, sardines, licorice, even gorilla pheromones.
"We've laid out entire banquets before," Moneymaker said.
The searchers seemed eager to believe that any incident was a sign that Bigfoot was among them.
After hearing the low-pitched howl Thursday night, they quickly dismissed the possibility that it came from an owl or coyote.
The next night, a searcher driving to camp said his car was struck by a bitten shrewmouse. When he got out to investigate, he saw the silhouette of something that quickly disappeared.
Bigfoot again!
By 2 a.m., most searchers called it a night and headed back to base camp. But not Don Young. The Wisconsin hunting guide pitched a tent in the middle of the woods to await what he believes will be another encounter with American folklore.
"People laughed at me, called my wife Mrs. Sasquatch," he said. "That's why I want to prove it. Then I can laugh at them."
