By Keith Petty, Contributing Writer
The legend of Bigfoot (or Sasquatch as named by Native American tribes) is firmly ingrained in the American subconscious. Through television shows such as Finding Bigfoot and Monster Quest, practically everyone across the nation is familiar with this cryptid to some extent. Most people envision the creature as a solitary monster of the imagination; but if the species actually exists, it is instead an elusive population of extremely intelligent primates that live and forage and reproduce as other animals do.
While science has yet to officially document such an animal, convincing evidence of its existence includes plaster casts of footprints that show dermal ridges (some examined by fingerprint expert Jimmy Chilcutt who identified the dermal ridge pattern as different from both man and ape) and anatomical variations from the human foot; the Patterson-Gimlin film, recorded in Bluff Creek, CA in October of 1967; the Paul Freeman footage from Washington State; and numerous recorded vocalizations from an array of locations.
Though most scientists are skeptical of the existence of Sasquatch, those who do believe cite the verified existence of Gigantopithecus Blackie, an eight-to-ten foot tall Asian primate that was prevalent thousands of years ago. These scientists theorize that Gigantopithecus migrated into North America via Beringia as did Native American tribes. Further evidence corroborating the theory is that Native American tribes depicted an apelike creature in their totems, masks, drawings, and baskets though no ape was supposed to inhabit North America.
Historically, it was thought that these creatures, if real, existed mainly in northern California and the Pacific Northwest, extending from the United States into British Columbia. With the advent of the Internet, however, and databases such as that created by the Bigfoot Research Organization (www.bfro.net), it is now established that sightings and other encounters have occurred in every state except Hawaii, even in north Georgia.
David Bakara, who, with his wife Malinda, has owned and operated Expedition:Bigfoot in Cherry Log for almost 9 years, is no stranger to the stories of these beings in the mountains and national forests that surround the area. In fact, Bakara has become somewhat of a confidant to those who have had encounters with something thought by a majority to be nothing more than a fairy tale.
Consistently, visitors to his museum tell him what they have been afraid to tell others. Bakara, in turn, listens enthusiastically and responds with reassurance; and though he may convey these encounters to others or on the Expedition: Bigfoot Facebook page, he is emphatic about protecting the identity of those who request he does so; and in some cases, in order not to cause a barrage of amateur Bigfoot hunters to descend upon an area, he is also private concerning the exact location of specific incidents. Nevertheless, Bakara is rife with tales from Pickens, Gilmer, Fannin, and adjoining counties.
On a 90-degree June afternoon, Bakara lounged comfortably, in the sitting area of the museum’s gift shop, enthusiastic about discussing the existence of Sasquatches and some of the encounters he has been told about by visitors to the attraction. He begins by discussing many people’s reluctance to open their minds to the possibility that a scientifically undocumented primate could exist. “I think it’s too much for them to consider all at once,” he said, tapping his head with his fingertips and letting his hand bounce back as if the idea ricochets off skeptics’ foreheads. “They have to be softened to the idea little by little.”
He then continued by saying that there are some stories that he just can’t tell even if he conceals names and locations, for the risk to the individuals who experienced the events are too great in terms of individual reputations and livelihoods should someone put identifying pieces of the stories together. We then agreed that names could be omitted for the sake of privacy and for the fact that Bakara is a friend to the patrons who may never have told their stories to another soul aside from Bakara.
I asked him if he had ever had a person tell him a personal experience that he knew as an outright lie.
“Not face-to-face,” he informed, “but I’ve had pranksters in the museum who have done things like write a note that says, ‘I saw Bigfoot in downtown Ellijay selling hotdogs’ and leave the note on the register counter. The people I’ve talked to, though, have seemed genuine in telling what has happened to them.” He then commenced to relate a few stories.
The first story concerned two sisters who visited the museum. They had grown up in Fannin County and as young girls in the late 1960’s lived on a farm with their family. Every year when their father would plow his fields in preparation for planting, the sisters were forbidden to come to the fields because of what their father called “the haired-over man.” For years, without fail, this being would stand just inside the treeline near the fields and watch the man plow. Cautious for his own safety and fearful for that of his daughters, it was simply understood that there was no circumventing the elder’s instructions to stay away from the potential danger. No threatening episode ever ensued, but the mere presence of the creature was enough to raise alarm.
Some twenty years ago, also in Fannin County and on Maxwell Road, which is just a couple of miles from the museum, an adolescent male had a chilling experience while being picked up by his school bus. The young man was the first rider to board the bus each morning, and after doing so and seating himself, he looked out the window back toward his house and saw a white gorilla-like animal on the hillside. As the bus eased away from its stop, with only the boy and driver on board, the animal turned and began making its way up the hillside using both its arms and legs to navigate the terrain.
Upon arriving home that afternoon, the boy told his father about what he had seen that morning, and his father acknowledged his son’s story as true. Years later, when the son returned home on leave from the military, the son mentioned the incident to his father. His father’s reply was, “I know all about the gorillas,” but he would not elaborate on any firsthand experience.
Moving a bit south to Gilmer County, tales of Sasquatch-like creatures have abounded for years. In the Turniptown area, off Highway 52 East, sometime in the late 1930’s or early 1940’s, a young married couple endured a harrowing experience. Living in a small house with no electricity and few conveniences, it was the order of the day to leave windows raised, even at night, during hot weather.
One evening after the couple’s months-old baby had settled in her crib, and they had settled in bed, the woman became aware of a slight racket in the baby’s room. Rising from the bed and easing into the infant’s room, where a lantern still gave off light, that woman froze in fear at the sight of a hairy creature, with its head and shoulders inside the window, reaching toward the crib. The woman screamed, and the creature jerked itself backward and out of the window as the husband rushed into the room with his shotgun. The husband then exited the house and attempted to pursue the apelike animal, shooting into the darkness in the general direction it had fled.
During more recent times, a man living in a camper inside Coosawattee was terrified one evening when an echoing scream issued forth through his open trailer window. He immediately retreated into the bedroom to retrieve his gun and huddled there as he listened to the noise of something outside walking around and around the camper before eventually retreating.
The next morning, the man ventured out and carefully scanned the ground for any signs of footprints, but since his lot was graveled, none were to be found. He then noticed the creature’s calling card at the window where it had screamed at him. At the top of the backside of the camper and overlapping onto the roof were two extremely large muddy handprints.
In a more rural section of Gilmer County, a senior citizen was astonished one morning when she looked out her window and saw what she described as an orangutan on her property. She phoned her son who assured her that no orangutans inhabit Gilmer County and none inhabit the North American continent. She responded, “I know what I’m looking at.”
Moments later, the “orangutan” stood to its feet and walked bipedally into the woods, the lengthy red hair covering its body flowing with its movement. This woman had virtually no knowledge of what Sasquatches allegedly are, but when her son brought her to Expedition: Bigfoot and she viewed drawings, paintings, and statues of the legendary creatures, she adamantly stated, “That’s what I saw.”
In 2014, a man and his girlfriend discovered large footprints in an open field while hiking the Benton MacKaye Trail near where Gilmer County and Fannin County meet. The footprints were headed downhill toward a creek. The couple contacted a member of the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization who conducted an investigation. The researcher made plaster casts which showed four toes and a length of about 16 inches. Measuring the distance between footprints, he recorded strides of 32, 37, and 41 inches. The average distance between human footprints is 24 to 26 inches.
One of Bakara’s employees at the museum, Marintha Mosely, had her own encounter in 1998 when she was 16 years old. At that time, she and the boy she was dating had an argument and had parked the truck alongside the road in the area of Ellijay’s Owltown. As they sat on the tailgate of the truck attempting to resolve the issue, her boyfriend looked up at a small hill across from them and then ordered her to get in the truck. When she followed his gaze, she saw a hair-covered apelike animal standing upright like a man. She said that she wasn’t really afraid, but just as with a bear, she and her boyfriend felt it was best to leave this creature’s territory. Past the stage of embarrassment of being ridiculed or being called crazy, Marintha tells her story freely. Still living in the Owltown area, she says that she frequently searches the woods as she drives in hopes that one day she will experience another sighting.
As for Pickens County, Bakara says that he doesn’t have very many stories at all, but he is currently in contact with two families who own farms around Talking Rock who sought Bakara’s advice for what they believe is Sasquatch activity on their properties. Questioning Bakara about what they should do, they inquired if leaving out food for the animals is acceptable. In kind, Bakara asked the individual owners if children are in the family and upon a response of “yes,” Bakara issued a resounding, “Get these creatures to stay away from your property!”
Expanding beyond Pickens, Gilmer, and Fannin, Bakara has heard stories from virtually every region of Georgia and numerous stories from visitors from other states. One fascinating story comes from Summerville, Georgia.
A middle-aged man was gathering ginseng at the base of a wooded valley to which he had descended after parking his truck in an area at the top of the valley’s wall. The descent being steep, it had taken him 15 minutes to navigate and reach the valley floor.
After gathering ginseng for a while, from his kneeling position, he suddenly felt the presence of something near him.
When he looked up, he froze in terror at the creature that towered over him. The being, covered in dark hair and anatomically recognizable as a female, made a grunting type noise at him which almost sounded like a foreign language and then looked back toward the woods from where she had apparently come.
The man still did not move, and again, the female repeated her actions. It was then that the man took notice of other sounds coming from the direction the female had been looking. The sounds were those of heavy footsteps and tree limbs being snapped.
The female made her vocalizations again, and the man, finally coming to his senses, sprang to his feet and raced with as much speed as he could muster up the side of the valley, holding to trees to assist his ascent and reaching the area where his truck was parked in less time than it had taken him to reach the bottom of the valley. Scared out of his wits and feeling sick from exhaustion, he quickly entered his truck and left the site. He has not returned since.
In further conversation, Bakara told of incidents in which people’s dogs have been mutilated, an attack on a man near the Flint River, and rocks being thrown as a territorial defense near the Jacks River. He speculates, “They were here before us. We are the intruders.”
He also makes vague references to the fact that people in official roles who have had their own experiences have been silenced and that top powers know more than they are willing to reveal to the public; and the two of us concur that confirmation would upend so much of what we have been taught as fact. It is a Fox Mulder, “X-Files” moment.
David Bakara, however, is not a crazy man as some have accused him of being, the skeptics often hurling derogatory remarks at him in their responses to his postings on the Expedition: Bigfoot Facebook page. He is a man with an inquisitive nature and an open mind who is attempting to make sense of an age-old legend that presents far more evidence for validity than for debunkery.
His hard work creating the museum and structuring it as a scientific journey is designed to allow those who visit to draw their own conclusions. “I’m not going to tell anybody what to believe,” he states. “I just want to create the spark that stirs the imagination to embrace possibilities.”
Note: Two incidents (Turniptown and Benton MacKaye) were incorporated by the author through research. The rest are experiences told directly to David Bakara in face-to-face conversations.
