Monday, January 20, 2014
Well, I sure haven't been posting on my blog lately, but I have a good excuse (I think, anyway). I've been working on my newest book, and it's now finally done! It's available here at Amazon.com.
Since it's avalable only from Amazon in Kindle format, be aware that you can get a free Kindle app from Amazon—just go their main page and select Kindle and you'll see a link on that new page.
Here's the Introduction:
Dear Fellow Adventurers,
As you may know, I’m a fly-fishing guide, and I’ve collected many Bigfoot stories around campfires from my clients. (“Rusty Wilson’s Bigfoot Campfire Stories” and others in that series.)
When I’m sitting around the fire listening to these stories, the storyteller will often tell the actual place where their Bigfoot encounter happened. I almost always change these locations in my books. Given what I believe is the declining number of this species, I feel we need to be very careful to not intrude on their habitat any more than we already do.
But I always wondered what it would be like to go searching in those places, places where there have been actual encounters—some of which were real doozies. I call places where there was more than one such encounter “Bigfoot hotspots.”
My wife, Sarah, and I discussed this for some time, and I always felt a bit conflicted about the whole thing—I would hear of others going on organized searches, sometimes in fairly large numbers, and I’d wonder, what does the Big Guy think about all this? I always felt that he or she probably felt hunted. I know I would.
I wanted to see a Bigfoot, but I just couldn’t justify intruding into their terrain. I know I wouldn’t like someone coming into my territory, purposely searching for me and my family.
While thinking about all this (usually while fishing), a thought finally began to take shape: what if I were to go to Bigfoot hotspots and just hang around camp, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible and not tramping into the woods looking for them? Would they maybe come to me from curiosity?
Another thought was in the back of my mind—would I be able to find definitive proof of the existence of Bigfoot, something many scoff at or question? And if I did, what would I do with it?
I tried to be honest with myself. If I did find such proof, I knew I would never sell it, and I wasn’t sure I would even share it with anyone except my wife, who I trust implicitly. I’m not interested in self-aggrandizement, and I feel that most media sensationalize the topic of Bigfoot. I wanted no part of that.
I simply have a life-long curiosity about Bigfoot. I wanted to see one—in a nutshell, meet the elusive creature I’d heard so much about over campfires. I also feel strongly that we must start preserving their habitat, and this won’t happen until we can list them as a real species, and possibly as an endangered one. But what part I wanted to play in that was not clear to me, as I wanted nothing to do with anything that could also possibly make them even more endangered.
So, I decided I would go camping. I would take off for a month and follow my heart, go chasing after the Big Guy—though I can tell you, when I realized my dream could become reality, I was kind of scared.
Did I have what it would take to camp in a tent in these Bigfoot hotspots all alone? I wouldn’t actually be chasing after Bigfoot—if anything, he’d be chasing after me. I hoped I had the fortitude and courage to let him find me, were he so inclined. To be honest, the thought was both intriguing and terrifying.
And so, in late July, off I went, and I can tell you this—it takes a lot more to live through a Bigfoot story than it does to hear someone else’s. There were times when I amazed myself at my courage—but more often, I was shocked at how big of a chicken I could be. Things just didn’t come down like I expected them to—not one bit.
Unlike in my camp fire stories, the locations in this book are exactly where the event happened. I mention this because you might want to stay away from those places—or go there, if you’re ready. My vision of Bigfoot has always been that he’s a benign creature, but there were a few times during my “expedition” that I wasn’t so sure.
So, make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, kick back by the fire, and be prepared for a story that may make your teeth chatter just a bit—and if it does, believe me, it won’t be from the cold.
I hope you enjoy it! —Rusty