A father daughter fishing trip has an unexpected visitor....

Just Hangin’ Around By Lois Buchter (LoisBuchter.com)

We heard the helicopter before we saw it on that beautiful Spring afternoon.
Jenny opened the truck window and leaned out, scanning the horizon filled with thick woodlands and rock outcroppings. We were twenty miles in the back country, having spent the morning fishing at our favorite lake. Dirt smeared across the side of her cheek from an oozing peanut butter sandwich she finished an hour earlier.

“I don’t see it, do you?” she continued to scan and looked back at me. “Is there a fire?” We knew helicopters were a rare occurrence in these parts, usually fire training or an actual fire were the only times you saw them.

The truck dash was filled with remnants of McDonald wrapper’s, tackle packing, and a crumbled paper coffee cup. I threw a few pieces of the trash into the back and leaned forward.

And then, I saw it.

About a hundred feet to the northwest, a forest-service helicopter was carrying something, large and dark. I slowed the car and then pulled over, putting the vehicle in park. Jenny scooted over closer to me, squinting in the bright sunlight. I took off my sunglasses and rubbed my eyes.

Was that…a Sasquatch dangling under the blades by its feet? The figure, covered in brownish hair, wobbled. It had no discernible neck. I stepped out of the truck keeping an eye on it. My mind raced back to a story a park ranger told me about a Sasquatch who rattled his fire lookout tower. The beasts were exceptionally strong and unpredictable.
The thing roared, shaking the glass on my door. I know, because my hand was on it, and I felt it go through me like a bolt. The hairs on my arm stood at attention. “Stay in the car, Jenny!” I called out as she tried to open the door as I held it shut.

“Dad, let me out! I wanna see!” She paused, letting her mouth hang open before she said with alarm, “Is that a Bigfoot?!!” She yelled through the glass.
We were mesmerized watching it. A second beat-up truck pulled in behind us. In the bed were three German Pointer dogs who started barking. The driver called out to them to quiet and then stood there in awe with me watching.
That was no bear! “Jenny, hand me my phone!” I yelled louder than I meant to. She rolled down the window and handed me my phone, which was almost out of juice.

The beast roared again. And then, started swaying erratically under the machinery. One chain broke and dangled to the ground with a loud “thump”. It landed about fifty-feet from our truck. An overwhelming smell of rotting wild animal hit me and I repelled with disgust, covering my mouth.

The thing was right over us. I took out my phone, and with shaking fingers, hit the record button.

The helicopter swooped down closer to the ground, trying to stabilize itself, but in one quick motion, the beast propelled itself up, grabbing onto the remaining chain and jerking itself free, falling down to the river bank, landing in shallow, cold waters that were only about five feet deep.

We held our breaths and looked quickly at each other before scrambling into action like a bear hot on our trail. I got back in my truck quickly, as did the other driver.

The helicopter hovered over the impact spot, and I slowly inched the truck forward, keeping an eye on the waters. Jenny started recording while I drove.
“Is it alive?” she asked. Her voice shaking in intensity as we left a column of dust behind us. I didn’t stay around to see much else, but we were close enough to see the faces clearly on the helicopter crew. And, below, the water erupted in a flurry when a boulder went flying at the blades.

The helicopter took evasive action, and the rock missed the blades, but struck the side of the canopy with a metallic “ping”.

As we hit the rise in the road, we heard the beast scream, and it shook the windows again.

I looked at Jenny while I drove like a banshee. “Do NOT tell your mother about this or she’ll never let us go fishing again!”

Wide-eyed, Jenny just nodded her head and replayed the video. “Can I post it? I won’t say whose it is…”

Kids just don’t get it…do they?