Page 2 of Squatch Out!

Seattle drivers seem to have no concept of what a blinker is, and none of the road signs are helpful at all, leaving me at the mercy of my lagging GPS.

Despite that, I managed to get the rest of the supplies I wasn’t able to bring with me on the plane and some groceries without getting into a major traffic accident.

Glancing beside me, I let out a heavy sigh.

When I booked my trip, I made sure to reserve a full-sized SUV, knowing I’d be hauling a lot of gear and driving in rough terrain.

But when I got to the car rental place, the bored-as-fuck kid behind the counter informed me that all they had was this compact hatchback.

When I raised a stink, I was told I could take it or leave it.

At least it has all-wheel drive. But I had to fold the back seats down and flatten the front passenger seat to fit my trunk inside. Hopefully the others chose a better rental place and will have better luck.

A giggle slips past my lips as I imagine the three of them pulling up in a compact sedan that would have trouble handling a gravel road, let alone the terrain I’m expecting. Not to mention how it would hold the three of them and all their gear.

The drive up Highway 101 is beautiful, and it’s not long before my stress is melting away.

It’s a sunny day on the Washington coast, and I’m captivated by the blue sky and shimmering ocean.

About an hour into the three-hour drive, I get a text from Tony announcing they have landed and will be hitting the road to meet me soon.

Another wave of excitement hits me. It has been far too long since I’ve taken a real vacation, and the mountains have always been my happy place.

Back home, it’s not uncommon to find me heading up into the Appalachians on my days off.

Add some of my favorite people and the potential to maybe spot a bigfoot, and I’m the happiest nerd in the world.

The small town where we’ll be staying tonight is the last bit of civilization before we’ll head into the uninhabited and unforgiving Olympics.

We booked rooms at a luxurious lakeside lodge for tonight and then another night when we return, since the campsite I reserved for the five-day stretch has an outhouse, and that’s it.

No running water. No shelter. Just earth and sky and hopefully a Sasquatch.

More giddy anxiousness hits me as I get closer and closer to my destination, and I dance a little in my seat.

I chose the Olympics rather than the more popular forests to the south, where my own sighting took place, because of a run of recent sightings in the area.

For months, I researched maps and trails before finally deciding which camp will give us the best chance of seeing an elusive bigfoot.

Being a bigfoot enthusiast can be lonely. Most people don’t want to know that you believe in a magical, make-believe creature. Just like on the plane with Weed Girl, when the subject comes up, my story is nearly always met with skepticism at best and outright disgust at worst.

Smart career women are not supposed to believe in fairytales. Or bigfoot.

Which is fine. I’m not out to change anyone’s mind.

I know what I saw. Although, it would be nice to end up with some irrefutable proof that what I experienced as a child was real.

To be able to prove there really is an entire species of ape-like cryptids wandering the forests and mountains all around the world.

The voice of C-3PO suddenly comes to life through my GPS, “Did you hear that? Your destination is coming up on the right.”

I hit my blinker, preparing to turn off the highway when I notice a sign for Forks.

You know, the home of a certain series based on sparkling vampires.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I debate keeping straight so I can visit the town that’s been made famous by my favorite books.

Because, big surprise, the nerdy bigfoot girl is also Team Edward.

Knowing how close I’d be, one of the first things I did when I booked this trip was check the availability of Bella Swan’s house that’s been made into an Airbnb.

Sadly, it was booked out for the entire month, but I’m definitely planning to make a trip to visit it before I have to fly back to Virginia.

With a heavy sigh, I take my exit.

A few minutes later, I’m passing a rustic wooden sign welcoming me to Seli Lake.

There isn’t much to the small town other than a general store, a couple bars, gas station, and some fast-food places.

C-3PO leads me down the two-lane main street and then around a corner where the main attraction comes into view.

The Seli Lake Lodge is the largest building in the whole town and sits on the shore of the lake that gives the town its name.

The missed opportunity to visit Forks is completely forgotten as I pull into the parking lot.

Lush green landscaping curls around to the back where the lake softly laps at the shore.

The three-story lodge is shingled with cedar siding and trimmed with a coat of unblemished white paint.

Behind me, the sinking sun reflects the red and orange sunset across all the west-facing windows.

“You have arrived!” I cut C-3PO off as I turn off the engine. Then I just sit for a minute, taking in the rustic, yet posh view.

Damn, this place is even nicer than the website claimed. Pushing open my door, I step out into the humid evening. As lovely as this is, I can’t wait to get up into the mountains.