Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening
Book 3 in the
Conversations With Sasquatch Series

Book Cover for Conversations With Sasquatch, The Awakening by Michigan novelist Richard Rensberry.

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening

by Richard Rensberry

     With Book 2, Cross Over now published and available on Amazon, Book 3 The Awakening is now in the first phases for publication.  Once again the episodes which were available here on my website through the writing process for everyone's enjoyment will be taken down. The fourth book in the Conversations With Sasquatch series, The Rising, will begin this fall.  I will once again be spending time in the land of Cross Over.  

     In the mean time, I will be posting snippets of the Sasquatch way on this page.  Today's piece is called Bloodstones.

by Sasquatch Poet Richard Rensberry

     I have returned to Message Rock several times in the past week.  No new messages appeared until today or should I say last night, since the Sasquatch come in the night ninety-five percent of the time.

     I have never encountered a Bigfoot at the rock, only their gifts and messages.

     A bloodstone is a reflection of inviolate trust.  To receive such a gift is not something to be taken lightly of for granted, for trust is the domain of the karmic enlightened.  Trust broken cannot be easily restored. It often takes lifetimes.  

        Big Creek Blood Stones

At the heart of good intentions

the Sasquatch leave bloodstones. 

These gems are brothers

to the forests and sisters to the rivers

that run through them.  They are cleansed

by the hands of the worthy

and kissed by the mouth

of fate.  They are gifts

from our Bigfoot friends

from the other side.    


Throw Stones
by Sasquatch Poet Richard Rensberry


Like all free beings

the sasquatch keep an eye on their enemies;

Anthony Fauci and Bill Gates fill that bill.

And today the portals are closed.

Those that came yesterday

have nothing to do

but toss pebbles and fuzz photos.

It’s just a silly game to pass the time.

But be careful, Bigfoot can throw stones

two hundred forty miles per hour;

if they so choose.  Joe Biden

doesn’t have a clue

of what’s waiting on the other side.  

Bigfoot Throw Stone.

Conversing With Sasquatch
by Sasquatch Poet Richard Rensberry


Life is good.

I live in the wood

buffered from the mob

by Bigfoot.  No cameras,

no scat, no castings

from Hollywood or Bigfoot prints.  Just friends

in a conversation

fools will never comprehend.  

                       8/15/21 Richard Rensberry

Bigfoot Country

Peach Pie
by Bigfoot Poet Richard Rensberry

       Peach Pie

The Sasquatch children

bring me peaches

ripe and warmed by the sun.

They bring rain water,

nasturtiums and honey comb.

They leave me a stone

rolling pin, a hollowed stump

with ground kenaf flour 

and a huge carved bowl

for mixing fruit,

cinnamon, and cloves.

I heat my stove

to three hundred fifty degrees; 

crack an egg of quail

and glaze the crust; then

clove and cinnamon dust

the honied peaches.  I bake

and whip fresh sweet cream.

Done, I set the steaming pie

on the kitchen sill to cool.  Patiently 

I wait for their little feet.  I can hear them

whisper as the porch boards creak,

then a giggle and a hand

reaches up

to steal my heart.  

More Bigfoot poetry can be found at:     

Peach pie for Bigfoot children.

Episode 20, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

      As the pond water enveloped us everything went dark.  The water felt like warm pudding as it pressed my arms to my sides and held them there like a straight jacket.  I clung to Tecumseh’s hand.  In the back of my mind I was beginning to wonder if I had made a serious mistake.  Could it be possible that Tecumseh would not be able to cross over and I had unwittingly led him into a death trap?  My lungs were beginning to burn and I was struggling desperately to find traction with my heavy boots.  I had the sensation that my feet were a pair of cement blocks stuck to the pond’s muddy bottom.  My grip on Tecumseh’s hand had loosened and I could feel his fingers slipping away when I was abruptly yanked from the water into the glare of a blinding light.  My stomach did a somersault as I gulped to suck in a lungful of fresh Cross Over air.

     As my eyes adjusted and came into focus I was looking directly at Demarcus.  His big hand twitched and swung me wildly up over his head.  He had hold of my ankle and I was soon dangling fifteen feet in the air.  I looked helplessly into his big brown eyes and saw my own worried reflection before he gingerly lowered me to the ground.  Tecumseh was directly deposited next to me.  

     As I stood shaking, I was immediately struck by a gathering of humans.  There were several men, women and children standing just beyond Demarcus in what looked to be a well kept vegetable garden.  They were wearing simple look alike clothes, straw hats, and smiles like a family of Amish.  In unison they all paused and raised their hands in greeting.

     Tecumseh and I waved back.  

(To be continued in Book 4 of Conversations With Sasquatch, The Rising)  

     Conversations With Sasquatch, The Awakening has now come to an end.  I hope you have enjoyed my Sasquatch series of short read novels thus far.  Soon, I will begin the fourth book in the series, The Rising, and post my weekly episodes of that book here on my website.  I have written a series episode every week now for well over a year.  It has been a joy to share my many Conversations With  Sasquatch and all the associated knowledge and experiences that came with them.  The Forest People have had much to say and offer for a brighter future and it is my hope that man will heed the call.  

     Conversations With Sasquatch, The Awakening will now be taken down and go through the pain staking  process of editing for publication.  If you have not read the previous two books in the series, Conversations With Sasquatch, The Encounter and Conversations With Sasquatch, Cross Over, they can be purchased in our store and on Amazon.

Episode 19, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

     Though the spirit world is just as active and real as our physical realm, you would never know it from our modern American culture.  Tecumseh, however, being Native American, comfortably resides in both worlds.  He will claim that I am the medicine man, but that is only a half-truth. Yes, I have abilities of inherent trust and knowingness that allow me to carry on conversations with the Sasquatch, but I do not speak to disembodied spirits.  I see them at times, but they are simply ghosts.  That is not the case with Tecumseh.  Body or not, these entities are just as present and real as a tree to you and me.  

     Dead Horse Sink is full of these disembodied souls.  I can sense their presence when Tecumseh pauses and closes his eyes.  His body flinches and twitches with an effort to communicate to those that only he is privy to.  

     “Take all the time you need,” I tell him.

     “They are revealing that some of my ancestors made it to Cross Over.  The portal was put here to help when the soldiers came.  It has been here for a long time now.”  

     “Interesting. You can lead us there?” I ask.

     “Yes,” Tecumseh tells me.  “They want to go as well.  They have been waiting for me all this time.  I did not know.  When we reach the portal and are able to Cross Over, they will finally be set free.”

     Tecumseh is abruptly transformed.  His vibrations have gone from troubled to elated.  Magically, even the lines in his face have all but vanished.  His movements are now like a feather carried by the wind.  Where his moccasin’d feet are able to dance through the grass hummocks and muddy pockets of water, I can only slog heavy footed in my boots.  I am having a difficult time keeping pace.

    “Here,” Tecumseh waves to me.  

    He is standing near a copse of tag alders that are guarding a small pond with what looks like a beaver mound in its center.  

    As I approach, he points into the murky pool of water.  I can see the dark silouhette of an opening.  The energy emanating from the pool is quite palpable.  I am also aware of the anticipation from the spirits now congregated near our heads.  

     “I have not done this on my own before,” I say.  “I have always had help from Loquius.  I do believe we should go together or we may not arrive in the same time and space on the other side.”

     I reach out and grasp his hand.

     Tecumseh nods and mouths a prayer.

(To be Continued)

Episode 18, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

     The last time Tecumseh and I had considered entering the Dead Horse Sink it had been mid-winter.  The temperature had been below zero and there were no bugs.  Now every insect known to man wanted a piece of our flesh or a taste of our blood.  The mosquitos drilled me, the gnats found refuge in my eyes, ears nose and mouth.  I flicked a tic off my arm. 

     "Take these," Tecumseh offers.  "Crush them to release all the oils and scents."

     He hands me several small pouches filled with dried leaves and flowers.  When I squeeze one of the bags, it releases the pungent perfumes of lemon grass, sage and mint.  There are five punches total, one for hanging around my neck and one each for my wrists and ankles.  

     I watch and mimic Tecumseh as he rubs an activated pouch over all of his exposed skin prior to tying them in place.  

     The swarms miraculously back off and keep their distance.  The relief was quite spectacular. 

     I extract the lapis Stone Without Time from my pocket.  I am hoping to get a rise from Demarcus, though I have never communicated with him via the Stone in the past. But we are now in his neck of the woods and I think the chances are pretty good that he'll respond.

     "Let's see if our Bigfoot is ready to meet," I say.

     "He'll come," Tecumseh tells me.

     The Stone though, remains cool and silent as we settle down on the ridge overlooking the Sink.  The only activities came from the scolding black squirrels and watchful crows.  A chipmunk also eyes us suspiciously and begins to chatter from his perch on a nearby stump.  

     It is after about forty minutes that I become aware of a distinct tug in my solar plexus, enough so that I stand up and take a good look around.  

     "I can feel him reaching out from Cross Over," I state.  

     Tecumseh also gets to his feet.  

     I point into the reeds and tall grass.

     "Let's go find your portal," Tecumseh says, and courageously leads me into his ancestral past.    

     (to be continued)

Episode 17, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

     I am beginning to understand the frustrations demonstrated by Ted Kaczynski more and more everyday.  The man who I once thought was a crackpot is turning out to be the real genius instead of the deep state and their high tech lackeys.  Things are getting exponentially scary.  A family member that caved to medical and peer pressures, took one of the touted Covid 19 vaccinations and is now an incapacitated vegetable.  His adverse reactions were sudden, powerful and all consuming.  His body literally appears to be eating itself, and like the gene-altered mosquitos, he’s a goner.  It is both sad and irritating the way the Health Department has embarked on an all out advertising campaign for vaccinations.  They have overtly taken to bribing uninformed people through all sorts of freebies and and even lottery money if they get the jab. 

     When I pull into Tecumseh's yard, he is sitting serenely on the front stoop of his trailer.  Like always, he is smiling and looks perfectly content with the world around him.  With all that is happening, I wish I could be so satisfied.

     “You look like you’ve been eating choke cherries,” he says to me. 

     I offer a thin smile. 

     “You have come because you want to pow wow with the Bigfoot?” Tecumseh asks and states at the same time.  

      I look at him quizzically.  “With Demarcus, yes.  He has something important to tell me.  He’s been bumping me with his mind that he wants to meet.  How did you know?”

     “This is the angered one?”  Tecumseh counters without answering.

     “Unpredictable,”  I say.  “We have a nebulous truce and agreement, but just the same, I’d feel more comfortable if you came along.”

     “Of course I will go.  You are my friend.”

     “Thank you.  I have a strong feeling that none of this is by coincidence,” I say, with a knot of trepidation forming in my stomach.

     “No,” Tecumseh acknowledges with his wry smile and accompanying nod.  “This Bigfoot Demarcus has spent some time in my head, as well.  His spirit is alive in the gifted gun shaped like a bow.”

     “You have spoken to him?” I ask, now understanding the source of his fore knowledge.

     “No.  The Bigfoot sends his wolf.  He prowls these woods and comes in my dreams.  He watches over me like a guardian spirit.”

     “You have a Bigfoot wolf as a guardian?”

     Tecumseh’s dark eyes do not waver.  “Nothing is by coincidence, my friend.”

     I can’t say I am surprised.  

     “Before you so eagerly say yes,” I reluctantly say.  “I believe Demarcus has opened a secret portal into Cross Over.  It is hidden away somewhere in the Dead Horse Sink.”

     Tecumseh gives me his patented nod.  “Then I guess it may be time I smoke a pipe with my ancestors.”  

(To be continued)

Buy and read Conversations with Sasquatch, The Encounter book 1 in the series.  

Episode 16, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

     Before heading out for a visit with Tecumseh, I am triggered by an overwhelming urge to take a little trek back into the far reaches of the Internet world, into the dark well of bio-engineering, or as I call it, The God Syndrome.  I have learned that these sudden urges are not to be ignored per Bigfoot Parchment number three: nothing is by coincidence.

     Manmade creatures are becoming common place in University labs across the world.  Science has seemingly lost all semblance of a conscience, where its blind followers do not believe in the spiritual nature and source of life, but instead they believe life comes from viruses and genes.  This disconnect from the true source of life allows them to hide behind all manner of justifications for their virus and gene monkeying in order to create their Frankenstein bugs.  

     I have had my attention directed upon a company called Oxitec, an offshoot of Oxford University in England.  Financially wealthy from their benefactors and big corporations, they are quietly going about the business of altering the genes of insects under the guise of pest control.  It all sounds innocent and helpful to the eyes and ears of our troubled world where science has elevated itself to the venerated position of a demigod.  The spiritually advanced Sasquatch would beg to differ.  That is why there has been an all out government spin to portray them as apes instead of the intelligent and powerful beings they actually are.  

     When the Sasquatch and I say the Covid 19 virus was created in a lab by off the rails men in white coats, we say it with certainty.  It is not a Conspiracy Theory, it is a fact, even if the virus' release gets portrayed as a so called “accident.”  As I stated earlier, I fully subscribe to the Sasquatch Parchment precept that: nothing happens by coincidence.  Someone released it, so that makes it no accident.

     Here is a prime example of the truth straight off the Internet.  This is not made up.  This goes on twenty-four seven all across the globe.  It manifests in many forms backed by huge sums of money that should be used for real life-changing improvements, instead of turning bugs into biological nuclear bombs.

    The company called Oxitec states, in its own words, not mine:   “Our insects contain a self-limiting gene, and when this gene is passed on to their offspring, offspring do not survive to adulthood, resulting in a reduction in the pest insect population.

     We call this method “self-limiting” because the released insects and the self-limiting gene that they pass on are designed to die and disappear from the environment.

     We release males, because it is the female insects that are directly responsible for spreading disease or producing larvae that damage crops. Our males have one job: to find wild females where they live and mate with them.

     This method can be applied to all kinds of insect pests, from the mosquitoes that transmit such diseases as dengue and Zika, to moth caterpillars that destroy maize fields. We’ve created our insects using precise genetic engineering tools. They are just like wild insects, except we’ve inserted two additional genes.

     The self-limiting gene prevents offspring of our released male insect from surviving to adulthood, and a fluorescent marker gene produces a protein throughout the body of the insects, which glows when exposed to a specific colour of light. This helps us to track our insects in the wild.”

     Sounds great doesn’t it?  You are supposed to be impressed with such scientific bluster portrayed as miracles by those with impressive scientific credentials.  I know what you are thinking, but bear with me a wee bit longer.  

     Let’s once again use Oxitec’s own words, not mine.

     “The self-limiting gene is at the heart of our method of insect control. When our male insects are released and reproduce with wild females, all of their offspring inherit a copy of this gene. The self-limiting gene disrupts the proper functioning of the insects’ cells by over-producing a protein in them, interfering with the cells’ ability to produce other essential proteins needed for development. So by disrupting the insect’s normal development, the gene prevents it from surviving to adulthood.

     Since the self-limiting gene works by using the insect’s own biology against itself, our control method provides a solution that only affects that particular species of pest without introducing harmful toxins.

     We have also designed our insects so that we can turn off the self-limiting gene with an antidote called tetracycline. This allows us to breed our insects at a large scale without the need for any additional genetic engineering. Our 2nd Generation Friendly™ Aedes aegypti mosquitoes, for example, were engineered in 2013, and we have been breeding the strain from those original mosquitoes ever since! 

     You may even think that just sounds wonderful!  What’s wrong with me, you say?  These guys are genius’.  

     What you probably missed, buried in all the bluster is the Covid 19 connection in the third sentence:  “The self-limiting gene disrupts the proper functioning of the insects’ cells by over-producing a protein in them, interfering with the cells’ ability to produce other essential proteins needed for development.”  Sound familiar?  It should.  The spike proteins produced by the Covid 19 virus do the exact same thing in humans.  These protein reactions are not native to natural life, they were manmade in a laboratory.  In the case of Covid 19, it was developed and funded by grant money and partnerships between Universities and Corporations.  No joke folks.  This is fact.  Check out the Covid 19 connection between Oxitec and BBSRC.  Modern humanity has unwittingly become the proverbial rat in the psychiatric maze.  They are now ringing the bell for you to run down and get your vaccination against their very own scientifically created Frankenstein virus.  

     If you still have doubts, reread the next paragraph of Oxitec’s dissertation.  “Since the self-limiting gene works by using the insect’s own biology against itself, our control method provides a solution that only affects that particular species of pest without introducing harmful toxins.”  This again should ring a bell.  That is the exact killing mechanism that has put Covid patients on respirators and into their graves.  The immune system attacks itself with the over production of the protein introduced by the self-limiting gene so touted by these genius’s.

     Here are Oxitec’s partners and funders.  Again, taken off Oxitec’s Website:  University of Oxford, GBIT, Piracicaba, BBSRC bioscience of the future, Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.  

     If you think these so called Scientists have control over their experiments exported from the lab into the natural world, I have news for you, THEY DON’T!  You think Bill and Melinda Gates money is squeaky clean and legitimate?  Hah!  If you believe these crackpots and CDC’s propaganda, then I know your relationship with reality is about as deep as a back road mud puddle.  Good luck!  Karma has no mercy.

     Now I have work to do.  Tecumseh and Demarcus are waiting.  

Buy and read Conversations with Sasquatch, The Encounter book 1 in the series.  

Episode 15, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

     Have you ever felt a door irrevocably slammed shut inside your heart?  No matter how hard you want to get it back open, it won’t budge.  Your pleas get ignored, condemned and torn to the ground.  Before you know it, it is dead bolted and boarded up.  That is how it feels to have the portals to Cross Over suddenly evaporate.  When they were open, the forest had resonated with a positive energy and vibration that is now noticeably absent.  The void is as palpable as a slap in the face.  Even the wildlife feel it.

     I know this void is not the intention of the Sasquatch, it is the result of a vast out-exchange equation of good energy for bad that has gone on for years.  The equation between man and the forest people has long lost its balance.  The Sasquatch have been providing our world with a constant flow of pure natural energy and we have been giving back poisons in the form of dissonant microwaves, pollutants, pesticides and bioengineered lifeforms.  That is not fair exchange.  The closing of the portals is not out of spite but out of self-preservation for the natural order of things.  

     I used to remark to my friends how spiritual the Big Creek area felt, but I had never attributed it to the frequency and energy generated by the land of the Sasquatch.  In the sudden absence of this bleeding over effect from Cross Over, it is apparent that the Bigfoot energy was an integral part of the attraction I always felt for the forest near Big Creek and Big Creek itself.  That old saying, “you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone” has come home to roost, even if I and the wildlife are the only ones who now notice and mourn it.

     I know Loquius, his loving family, and the bustling, beautiful Sasquatch city of Pariseema are still there in parallel, but now vibrationally and physically withdrawn and unavailable in the fabric of present time.  For how long?  Until man’s collective consciousness can somehow tip the scales of reason?  I know for certain that it is not the electronic Internet that will save us, it is the Internet of man and nature that is the answer.  It is going to be how we interconnect with and help, not conquer, the living world that sustains us and we them.  We must employ technology for the right reasons and for the benefit of all, not just for ourselves, or we will fail in this universe.  

     I don’t know exactly why, but my attention is diverted to a clear vision of Demarcus beckoning to me, not physically but mentally.  I can feel him tugging and probing my thoughts.  Apparently the exiled Sasquatch has more of a role in my journey than I would have ever considered or imagined.  I get the sense that he could possibly be a warrior or an enforcer like Rutheeus.  Could there be a Sasquatch army?  What weapons do they possess against the run amok technologies of the human race?  What is the real purpose of the humans that Demarcus and his pals sequestered and are now living amongst Demarcus’ clan in Cross Over?  

     So many unanswered questions are forming in my mind.  I have connected some dots but not all.  I think Demarcus can provide some answers.  

     But before I dive off the deep end and go searching him out, I would like to enlist the help and support of Tecumseh.  I think that Demarcus has a certain respect for my native American friend that he probably lacks for me.  I do not have a magic wand and the parchments are like gossamer instead of a solid lifeline.  My grasp on the concepts of the Sasquatch Parchments are still rudimentary at best.  Tecumseh is much closer to the ways of the Bigfoot than he presumes or knows, in fact he is as close to a forest person as a human can get.  

(to be continued)

Episode 14, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

    Although there has been much propaganda and conditioning directed towards eliminating man's emotion of anger, I am once again learning how to feel angry toward the evil agendas that are degrading our species and the world.  The anti-social powers that be have given this justified anger a bad name, along with other natural and healthy emotional reactions like the desire for justice.  It is the trickery of psychiatry, Mr. Smith and his deep state machinery to condition us and make us feel guilty for having emotional responses and reactions to these evils.  The aforementioned are very good at this covert game of social engineering.  However, it is not our anger that is the poison, it is those that vilify our anger and then create laws and buzz words to defend and protect their own covert intentions.  

     To get angry at child trafficking, organ harvesting, prejudice, pedephilia, voter fraud, etc. is a totally healthy state, it is an essential building block of the human condition.  Anger can propel fear into courage, apathy into motion when the game becomes one of win or lose, live or die.  I for one, have no desire to live in accordance with the bribed realities being forced down our throats by Big Tech, Big Pharma, Big Media, Big Banks and Big Government.  Like the Sasquatch, I have good reasons to be angry.  These Bigs and their technologies are eroding and destroying the natural and free world they so vehemently pretend to be protecting.  

     Don't get me wrong, I am not sitting around stewing in a pot of anger, but to swallow my ire and then smile in the face of the evil perpetrators is the makings of eternal serfdom and slavery.  Emotional suppression is unhealthy, giving rise to all manner of mental and physical ailments the "Bigs" establishment is only too happy to create and treat at a brutal cost in dollars and "sense."  Humans do best in a state of high activity and harmonious vibrations.  That is the end game for which we should be striving, not leisure and spectatorism created by technology.  This societal manifestation of harmony is not only possible, it has been realized in the Sasquatch dimension of Cross Over.  

     CNN, Facebook, Twitter, Google, the CDC, Pfizer, Bill Gates and a massive political machine tell us COVID 19 came from a Chinese wildlife market and we're supposed to bow down and believe them unconditionally.  They tell us to wear a fool's mask and we obediently don all manner of ineffective face coverings.  They tell us not to gather in celebration and we cower in fear inside our houses.  They tell us to get injected with a nanotech RNA operating system and we blindly hold out our arms to be jabbed, all in the name of governmental compliance and social engineering.   Are we that far gone that we can't even get angry?

     I intuitively halt in my tracks on my descent down the ridge to Big Creek as my awareness surfaces from the depths of my turbulent thoughts.  The hairs on my arms and neck have begun to dance with a case of the heeby-jeebies.  As I cock my head and try to listen to the forest around me, all I can discern is the vacuous ring of utter silence.  An intense prickle rockets up my spine and my mouth is filled with a rush of spiked adrenaline. 

     As I stand spooked, at high alert, I can smell the sour scent of my  own sweat.  There is a sudden pop from directly behind me, not the snap of a branch, but a sudden drop in air pressure.  The temperature also plummets precipitously and sucks my breath away.

     I spin around, certain he is standing there.  

     The power of my higher emotions engulf me, a combination of unadulterated affinity and complete joy.  It fills me, not as an idea, but as an emotional response from the very core of my being.  We automatically reach out with our index fingers to touch, do so, then throw caution to the wind and embrace like the old friends we have become.  We erupt with laughter.  He taps me on the back.  I punch him kiddingly in the ribs.  We grin and relish in each other's unbridled affection, something I have recently come to know of as a Bigfoot love zap.  

     "I have missed you, Loquius," I confess.  "How are you?  And your lovely family?"

     "Wonderful, my friend.  We are busy and blessed," he reverently replies.  "Pureesis speaks of you often.  Leeitus is overjoyed and in love.  Loquiili is hard at work collecting leaves for her many teas and medicines.  Cross Over has once again come fully alive with the enthusiasms of spring."

     "I can see it in my memory," I exclaim.  "I can actually smell the Brown-eyed Susans and Indian Paintbrush.  I can hear the rapturous song of the meadow larks and the bees in the meadow near your home."

     Loquius unexpectedly creases his brow and takes on an aura of seriousness.  The sparkle momentarily deserts his large and focused eyes.

     "I am so sorry." he exclaims.  "But that meadow has been lost to the vibrational intrusions of your world."

     "I don't understand," I counter, my high spirits suddenly crushed.  

     "It is the speed of your invading microwaves and chemicals, your subatomic manipulations, nanotechnologies and bioengineering," Loquius explains.  "These technologies are not harmonious with the life forms present here on earth.  Their frequencies are disruptive to the frequencies of healthy minds and bodies.  We have had to abandon our home and move our borders closer to Pariseema.  We are in the process of temporarily closing the portals that connect our two worlds.  I have come to inform you that you must act quickly amongst your kind."

     "How can this happen so fast?" I counter.  "I am one man among billions.  I hardly have a voice in my community let alone the power to change the governances of a nation or a world."

     "I am so sorry," Loquius says.  "You are the chosen one.  You have stood before the Council of Elders and know this cannot be denied.  It is an alarming fact that these technologies have destroyed other worlds and civilizations.  The Sasquatch know this from experience, for this planet is not our first time around the block in this universe.  You have been given access to the secrets of our parchments.  In them lie the keys to alter time and space in your human world and thus to some degree, ours.  It is in your world that the problem lies, not in the Sasquatch land of Cross Over.  We have long been the guardians of earth, but humanity has awakened the dark forces of our enemies and now you must act on behalf of the Sasquatch to bring harmony back into our worlds.  Study your parchments and look deep into The Stone Without Time.  You will find your answers are there."

     "I am so sorry, too," I manage.  "I feel I wasn't given a choice.  No, I take that back.  That would just be an excuse to justify my self-doubts.  I can see that I am at the ultimate make-break point that caused Ted Kaczynski to crack!  I am caught between the Sasquatch and the FBI.  And while we are on the dirty subject, I have recently been under the scrutiny of their well organized eyes and ears,  and I could very well end up imprisoned or possibly even dead.  I may be being set up, a fate similar to that of Ted's.  And I hate to mention it, but these spooks have also mentioned you by name."

     "You are not like Ted," Loquius says.  "Your weapon is your wit not your anger.  Don't concern yourself with any humans that reference me by name.  They are shooting in the dark with information from the interrogation of a couple exiled Bigfoot rebels."

     "But, I am angry," I bark.

     "So are many young Sasquatch like Demarcus.  Despite this, you must do your best.  Let the parchments and I help you.  The Council is on your side."

     "Okay," I grudgingly reply.  

     His eyes have regained some sparkle and there is an uplift to his lips.  

     "We are aware of your current fool's game regarding a virus, masks and vaccinations.  Appearing deaf, dumb and blind is just part of the game of cat and mouse.  We can create illusions just as well or even better than your deep state actors.  What most humans see of us is just that, an illusion.  We are capable of much more.  We are able shape-shifters.  We can see and hear in your world.   What you see and what we see are two different things.  No matter.  Ted Kaczynski was not as crazy as your illusions have lead you to believe, his craziness was a self-imposed trap he himself created and succumbed to in an attempt to carry our his strong desire to help."

     "You are right, I am not like Ted.  My will to help does not include his weakness of succumbing to violence."

     "Good.  That works for all concerned unless it becomes absolutely necessary.  If you fail, mankind will not be permitted to destroy our world."

     "Are you saying you are capable of directed violence?"

     "We are capable of what is necessary."

     I get a flash of my recent encounter and conversation with Demarcus.  

     "Demarcus is more than an exile, isn't he?" I ask.

     Loquius hesitates before speaking, as if struggling for the right words.

     "Like you, Demarcus was chosen by the Council.  Like Ted, he has the passion to help."

     "I see.  I'm your messenger and he's here as your insurance policy."

     Loquius gives me his wry but heartwarming smile.

     "If in the future you need me, you don't have to come all the way out here into the forest to find me.  I am present and available in The Stone and stand next to you in the fabric of time.  Speak to me and I will listen.  I will help you.  Should too much trouble come to your door, by all means, yes, you can always come to us.  I will find you here in the forest.  If or when that time comes, you and your family will be protected and welcome in Cross Over."

     I take a deep breath and look into his penetrating, unwavering eyes.  His warmth and grin are infectious. I mange a quick smile. 

     We spontaneously extend our index fingers and touch, a prolonged extension of trust.  

(to be continued)    

Episode 13.75, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   


He stands at the edge of the creek

in the forest.  If I stare

long and hard enough

it's a tree, not a Bigfoot.

The tree's image

has been spoken into my brain.

I can see it there,

thick trunked and multi-limbed,

thoroughly convincing me

it's an oak or a beech.

Then I blink

and the world is filled with fireflies.  

Episode 13.5, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   


Today I awoke

in an abyss of bad thinking,

a void fully absent

of the spirit of hope.

The voices of reason

have abruptly gone mute

as if the Sasquatch have sat down to pout.

The portals are closed.  Reality

has descended into a pool of uncertainty...

I wade the results.

Then a bird sings

and the horizon smiles with a glimmer of light.  

Episode 13, Sasquatch Novel 
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry   

     After laying low for well over a month, the snow has melted and the trees are tinged with the first green buds of spring.  I have contracted the fever, not the dreaded COVID, but a burning desire to grab my fishing rod and my gathering bag and escape into the sweet sanctuary afforded by the meandering waters of Big Creek.  The report from Tecumseh on Mr. Smith is that he has quietly moved on, at least for now.

   With the warming nights of May upon us, it is time for the onset of this year's morel mushroom season.  That is the purpose for my Ace Hardware bag folded and tucked in my back pocket.  I hope to gather a batch as a gift for my Sasquatch friend and his family.  

     It seems unfathomable that it has only been a year since my first encounter with Loquius while hunting these woods for the tasty morels.  So much has transpired over that span of time that I have to admit that my conscious ability to create and uncreate time and space has taken on a brand new meaning.  I get a sense that time no longer directs me, but instead, I direct it.

     Living low under the radar of Mr. Smith and the deep state does not mean I haven’t been hard at work on my given objectives.  Changing the dehumanizing trajectory of humanity isn’t something one can do from an armchair, it is done on the playing field from the position of quarterback.  It means having and directing skilled teammates in order to score touchdowns.  Doctor Q and Kenaf Partners USA are my newly acquired number one draft picks towards securing such a human victory.  I will do all I can to forward these organization’s goals and purposes, for their counter technologies are in direct alignment with the Bigfoot Parchments and my promise to the Sasquatch to foster the path for life affirming technologies.  It is no coincidence that we are together making major strides on this front.  

     After a non-eventful drive to Lewiston, I am warmed and elated to be once again trekking the Big Creek woods on the doorstep of Cross Over.  Even though the trees are barely opening their buds, it is a warm day full of of promise and the green aromas of burgeoning new life.  I am also happy to find the morels are part and parcel to the party, I find several poking their corrugated heads up into the light.  

     The Northwood Lilies are also in bloom, their soft, white faces the final blow to winter and the cold-hearted likes of Mr. Smith.  I hope he is gone for good.  I’d hate to hear helicopters and see a bunch of spooks rappelling above the tree tops like venomous spiders.  

      In concert with the awakening worlds within myself and without, the Stone Without Time has also arisen from its dormant slumber.  It is buzzing and resounding with the colorful wonders of Cross Over and her Sasquatch denizens.  I can see and hear them beckoning to me with their chants from the wondrous blue world within the stone.  

Episode 12, Sasquatch Novel 
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

      While Tecumseh investigates the investigator, I have decided to lay low until the winter weather breaks.  I’ll steer clear of the woods and the Cross Over portals to see what Mr. Smith has up his sleeve of deceit. 

     “My Love,” I say to my wife.  We are resting in the afterglow of a couple of oatmeal stouts and a generous bout of love making.  

     “Yes, My Dear,” she says and lifts her head off my chest.

     “A hypothetical,” I say.  “Mr. Smith comes up to you in the grocery store parking lot and flashes his impressive array of FBI credentials.  He says you are hereby obligated to cooperate in an investigation concerning your recalcitrant husband and a group of renegade Sasquatch.  What would you do?”

     “Smile,” she says.  “Then I’d politely inform Mr. Smith that I am not obligated to do so in any way, shape or form.”

     We have begun to do this sort of role playing quite often since I have been hanging about the house reading and practicing the wisdoms contained in the Bigfoot Parchments.  The Sasquatch concept of creating your tomorrow instead of letting it create you allows me a control and prediction I find comforting.  Why leave the creation and control up to an ill-intentioned FBI agent?  Our role playing takes the outcome out of the hands of the FBI and puts it squarely into ours.  That is the Sasquatch way.

     “Very sorry, but you have no choice in the matter, ma’am,” I say firmly, mimicking Mr. Smith’s threatening manner.  “Your husband is in violation of code 17 of the National Security Administration making him a security risk to this nation.  He is not the person you think he is.”

     “Oh, really?  You think you know my husband better than I do?  Now excuse me, I have shopping to do.”

     I don’t know if Mr. Smith would have the balls to take it any further, but just in case, I grip my wife by the elbow and pretend to use force to escort her towards my make believe Mercedes.

     She screams, a high pitched, ear splitting hair raiser.

     I am good with that.

     “Thank you,” I say, and embrace her lovingly.    

Episode 11, Sasquatch Novel 
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     I find it very doubtful that Tecumseh would engage in a conversation with someone the likes of Mr. Smith, but just in case Mr. Smith decides to start playing rough, I am dropping by to warn Tecumseh that the weasel has been nosing around in our business.  

     “Ah, Mr. Smith,” Tecumseh snorts.  “The man with a stone heart and a snake’s tongue.  Yes, we have had the pleasure to meet.”  

     “So I have been informed,” I say.  “What did the snake have to hiss about me and my dealings with the Bigfoot?”

     “He asked me about you.  Nothing was said about a Bigfoot.”

     “I see.  And what, may I ask, did he want to know about me?’

     “He asked me how his old friend Richard was doing.  He said he was curious as to what you were up to,” Tecumseh chuckles.  “I told him you were doing.”

     “Doing what?” I ask.

     “Just doing, nothing added, nothing subtracted.  I thought it best to let the snake slither its own tongue.” 

     “Smart,” I acknowledge.  “If he comes around again, would you mind following him to see where he is holing up?”

     “No need.  I already found him at the Pines Motel, cabin four.”

     “You already followed him?” I ask, amazed with Tecumseh’s foresight.

     “No follow.  Snooped around Mio the other night and found his car.  If you would like, I could sneak up behind him and take his scalp.” 

     “As much as I’d like to say yes, better hold off for now on that, but thanks.”

     “No problem.  He doesn’t know I came around,” Tecumseh says.  “He bought a girly magazine at the liquor store and hunkered down in the cabin to do diddly.  It is my opinion that he’s a low level flunky, probably sent up here to the backwoods so as to be rid of by his superiors.”  

     “Really?  You gathered all that?”

     “I did.  I don’t know his agenda or skills, but I don’t think he’s as smart or tough as he pretends to be.  If it involves effort, I don’t think he has the means to exert it.  He’s soft and lazy.” 

     I shake my head.  “I thank you,” I say.

     “You want me to keep an eye on him, just in case?” Tecumseh offers.

     “Thanks, I would appreciate that.”

Episode 10, Sasquatch Novel 
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     My wife is curious about my interactions with Bigfoot, but not at all to the degree that includes anything but superficial interest and belief.  She is not rugged in nature and has never been in the forest to meet a Sasquatch.  She is a pragmatist and my rock in this practical world as we live it.  To her, Sasquatch are mostly science fiction creations and have nothing to do with everyday reality.  If I told her everything I have experienced and know, she’d think I was off my rocker and encourage me to see a legitimate nut case called a psychiatrist.  That I promise you, will not happen.  

     “Who was that?” she asks me.  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

     “Just an old acquaintance, My Love.  A spook would be a good description.  If you see him around again, please do not engage him, just call the sheriff.” 

     “My goodness, my husband’s sordid past comes to rear its sinister head on my doorstep.  Should I actually be concerned?”  

     “Only if he tries to charm you to get his toe in the door,” I say in an attempt to deflect the seriousness.

     “He didn’t look like my type,” she interjects with a finger to her lips.  “Not bad looking, but just plain stupid not to wear a hat in this kind of weather.  He wasn’t even wearing a pair of boots!  I detest that kind of immaturity, so yes, I’d want to call the police.”  

     “Thank you,” I acknowledge, then add.  “If I don my hat and boots, will you allow me to get my toe in the door?”

     She puts her hands on her hips and gives me a demure look.  “You better be prepared to put a boot on something more than your toe,” she chides.

     I laugh.  I do love my wife.  

(to be continued next Friday)

Episode 9, Sasquatch Novel 
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     I guess you could surmise my fateful Bigfoot journey into the land of Cross Over began that day I met a Sasquatch as a child.  Little did I know then of its significance in shaping my future and what I am about to tell you at this time.  This statement is being recorded here for the record in case I should abruptly disappear without a trace.  

     The first of my disappearance scenarios, and the least fatal, is that I may have to relocate to Cross Over to continue on my awakening journey.  The second is that I may end up dead or abducted, not by Bigfoot, but through the means of some unsavory forces at work in this world in which we live.  One of those forces just left in a black Mercedes with tinted windows. 

     He came across pleasant enough on the surface, but beneath that thin veneer was lurking the sinister hostilities of a demon.  He introduced himself (now get this) as Mr. Smith.  

     “Good to see you again, my friend,” he tells me, acting like a long lost friend.  “If you don’t mind, may I come in?”

     “Have we met somewhere, Mr. Smith?” I ask in return.

     “Yes, I am an Eagle just like you.  I believe we have some other things in common as well, like a big fellow by the name of Loquius for one.”

     “And…” I encourage, my intuition on high alert.  I have a great recall for faces, and I am certain we have never crossed paths at the Eagles Club.

     His eyes shift inward for a moment and turn icy cold as the north wind that is reddening his face.  I am not shocked nor surprised to find the government at my door.  It isn’t the first time in my life that I have been under the scrutiny of the FBI.  

     “I have spoken with your friend, Tecumseh,” he offers up, eliciting an undercurrent of threat that I believe is an attempt to introvert me from the offensive to the defensive.  

     “And what did my friend have to say, pray tell?” I ask him sarcastically.  

     I can see this is not the way Mr. Smith expected the conversation to go.  It is bitter cold on my doorstep, the temperature right around zero degrees with a sharp wind.  This imbecile is dressed in a grey suit with a beige Dick Tracey overcoat.  He is wearing shiny black government issue shoes, no hat and no gloves.  

     “If you would be so kind, may I come in out of the cold?” He asks once again, trying to maintain a cheery debonaire at my act of perceived cruelty.

     “No!” I state adamantly.  “I am swamped with more pressing matters at this time.”

     “I see,” he says, blowing hot breath into his hands.  “If I may, let me give you a tip.  I’d be very careful with this fellow Loquius.  In fact, I’d be inclined to drop the whole affair if I were in your shoes.”

     I can feel the anger starting to bubble up inside my chest, but I know now is not the time to take the bait.  I bite my tongue and disguise a deep breath through my nose, but my eyes do not blink or waver.  I am watching him as closely as he is watching me.  

     He offers a slight smile.  “On the other hand, if you’d like to play cards, you might even be dealt a few aces into your bank account balance.”  

     “No,” I say.  “I have nothing of value regarding a fellow named Loquius.  You have the wrong guy.”

     His steely eyes narrow and his lips tighten slightly.

     “I don’t think so,” he says.  “If you change your mind, call me.”

     He reaches inside his coat pocket and produces a nondescript business card containing the name Mr. Smith and a phone number.  Then unable to contain himself, he once again chooses to threaten me.  “I’m certain you haven’t any idea what you have gotten yourself into.  You should think about the repercussions of what you are and are not doing.”

     “Thank you, Mr. Smith,” I say in dismissal.  “But like I said, you have the wrong guy.”

     I calmly back into the entry and shut the door.  

 Episode 8, Sasquatch Novel 
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     It seems like it’s been forever since my return from my eye-opening stay with the Sasquatch of Cross Over.  

     If it wasn’t for my friendship with Tecumseh, I might find myself slipping away into the depressing depths of winter.   Instead, I have been able to enjoy an ice fishing excursion on McKinley Lake.  Our friendship is more than enough to keep the Ted Kaczynski boogie men at bay and my spirits and purposes steadfast, especially after the experience of helping Tecumseh land his record breaking fish and then being a part of helping let it go.  Even if no one believes Tecumseh’s fish story in the future, the two of us absolutely know the certainty of its validity in our minds and hearts.  The same goes for our run-ins with Demarcus and my unbelievable stay in Cross Over with the Sasquatch.  We are all brothers in arms.  

     Today I am supposed to meet with Doctor Q.  I will not disclose his full name for reasons beyond most people’s comprehension, but to make a long story short, there are special interests that would do anything to suppress his knowledge and success with stopping the COVID 19 virus from penetrating the walls of the cells that make up our human bodies.  Doctor Q has researched and released the precious formula of minerals we now know are present in the Sasquatch chewing tobacco that was gifted to me by the Sasquatch Council of Elders.  These minerals are an immune system booster that humanity ought to be taking to heart, instead of lining up to receive untested vaccinations that are potential time bombs waiting to explode inside our bodies in some undisclosed future.  I have done much research on these vaccinations; and Big Pharma and our governments don’t give a rat’s ass about what happens to us down the road.  Their only care is their political agendas and control of the medical industry, which you would understand if you ever attended one of their high level board meetings that are not open to the public.  These are elitists that are truly insane whether you want to accept it or not.  

     I am not a doctor, nor am I a scientist, that is a fact, but I can attest to the effectiveness of Doctor Q’s mineral complex and its role in my own and other people’s health.  I have not been sick with any illness (let alone the virus) since I began taking Doctor Q’s mineral complex shortly after the onset of this laboratory created pandemic in which we find ourselves.  It is a fact that the virus is a manmade weapon that was released on the peoples of earth.  All the political spin in the world can’t change that. 

     When it comes to immunity, I rely on my body like the Sasquatch, I get out in the sun, I roll in the dirt and eat germs and viruses by the handful.  My immune system is capable of handling each and every one of them because that is what God created it to do; to build and maintain antibodies.  The human body wasn’t meant to live in congested cities nor overly sterilized environments with masks and life killing chemicals, that idea is a false reality and a surefire path to the illnesses you are so afraid of and think you can prevent with the scientific quackery of Anthony Fauci.  

     The contents of the Sasquatch chewing tobacco and the corresponding precepts found in the Bigfoot Parchments are enough to validate that this pandemic was not a coincidence or an accident at all.  It was a planned and carried out biological attack beyond belief.  We are now dealing with the aftershocks of that clash with evil.    It is a fate we never asked for, but since we have been lucky or unlucky enough to find ourselves in this position, we have no choice but to do the responsible thing and keep moving forward with the same courage being displayed by Doctor Q.  We are very fortunate to have him and the Sasquatch Council of Elders on our side.  

Episode 7, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     It is a joy to watch fate in action, a showdown of both wit and endurance between a man and a fish.  For the second time in our long friendship I am seeing Tecumseh break out into a sweat.

     As I watch the give and take, I lapse into reverie of my own personal battles as a conduit for the Sasquatch.  It seems that with my latest adventure with Demarcus, my fate has also become a game of push and pull.  It feels a lot like the tugging current of a river, whose pull is beyond my means to escape.  I can fight it, but it amounts to a waste of energy fighting something that exists outside my control.  I might just as well focus on the task at hand like Tecumseh and enjoy the ride.  

     Tecumseh’s laughter snaps me out of reverie and back to present time.  He is holding his pulsing rod in one hand and is frantically chopping at the ice with the spud in his other.  I am shocked to see that his hooked fish is too large to fit through the hole in the ice.  I reach out and grasp the spud to help, being very cognizant as to not hit the moving line from his rod.  Thankfully the pike has tired considerably and I am able to avoid such a heart wrenching mistake.  

     With the hole finally enlarged enough to accommodate the huge size of the fish, Tecumseh and I wrestle the thrashing pike onto the ice.  It is enormous.  

     After a congratulatory appraisal, Tecumseh kneels and strokes the fish with a gentle touch of pure affection careful to avoid its jaws filled with large, razor sharp teeth capable of ripping his hand to shreds.  The pike’s beautiful, glistening body looks surreal and powerful, its red gills gasping for breath.  I can see Tecumseh’s image reflected in the pike’s glowing eye.

     “Thank you,” Tecumseh whispers to the pike and turns imploringly to me.

     “Help me put him back,” he says.

     I am not surprised by this selfless gesture.  It is Tecumseh’s way.

     “You do know that fish surely breaks not only the Michigan record but probably a world record,” I tell him.  

     “That is why fate chose me instead of you or someone else,” Tecumseh replies.

     We lift and slide the pike headfirst back into the gaping hole in the ice.  For several seconds nothing happens, then the huge fish catches its wind and with a powerful undulating thrust slips through our fingers and is gone.  

Episode 6, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     With winter at its pinnacle, I am picking Tecumseh up from his trailer in Comins for an ice fishing excursion to Lake McKinley.  It is still plenty dark as I load my old pickup with my winter fishing gear.  

     Though it has been extremely cold, there is only three inches of snow on the ground.  Large bare spots are visible where the wind has whipped across the open fields, collected the snow and piled it into drifts along the hedgerows.

     The cold dry snow squeaks beneath my truck’s tires as my headlights sweep over Tecumseh standing ready on the stoop of his trailer.  Our friendship dates all the way back to when we were teenagers.  We met cutting cedar and pulpwood for Abitibi Corporation back in the sixties, a decade that seems like a lifetime ago because it nearly was, a lifetime when we were guilty of the destructive clear-cutting practices we now fight so fervently to halt in the forests of Northern Michigan.  Youth is like that, training wheels on steroids.

     Tecumseh slips a bungee cord through the handle of his plastic bucket and secures it in the back of my pickup.

     “The fishing gods are rejoicing,” he announces, stepping into the cab.  “They have blessed us our feet to walk upon the water like your Jesus.”

     “The water of Jordon does not freeze over,” I tell him.  

     “No matter, for today we are kin to the gods.  We can walk on water.”

     “Yes,” I say.  “And like Jesus, we are good fisherman.”

     “Like my father and his father before him, and Big Brother, Chiha Tanka Bigfoot.”

     “The Sasquatch do like fish,” I tell him.  “I had some dried filets on my last visit to Cross Over.  The Bigfoot have a knack for spicing it up and sweetening it.  They certainly have considerable knowledge of minerals, herbs and the many uses of honey.”

     “Speaking of Big Brother, you been?” Tecumseh asks.

     “I did have another run-in with Demarcus,” I say.  “Quite strange, actually.  We ended up making what he called the cross, a peace treaty of sorts with a cross your heart and hope to die promise.  More of a mutual agreement of respect, I’d say.  By the way, he gifted me a souvenir to give to you.”  

     Tecumseh’s brown eyes drill me for further clarification.

     “It’s Decker’s bent gun,” I say.  “Probably as much a warning as a gift.”

     Tecumseh chuckles and nods his head.  

     I can see he is pleased.

     The roads are clear and the sunrise brings a sparkle to the frosted trees and shrubs.  We are blessed by a lack of wind when we reach the lake.  It is fairly comfortable despite the pressing cold.

     Lake McKinley, being spring fed is one of those lakes you have to understand in order to stay out of trouble in the wintertime.  You better stay off unless you have knowledge of the lake’s springs and currents.  The ice can be precariously thin in many areas, fortunately Tecumseh and I know the lake well enough.  It is actually safer well away from the shore than near it.  

     We pull our sled with all of our equipment on a jig-jog path to the left and head for the drop-off not too far from the spot Tecumseh hooked into his nemesis pike during the summer.  We spud some holes and begin jigging some spoons in about fifteen feet of water.

     I’m jigging a green and gold daredevil when I feel a tick and the resistance of a fish.  Thinking it to be a small one, I muscle the pike all the way up and out of the hole before it realizes it has been hooked.  To my surprise,it is twenty seven inches.  Not too small, after all.

     I toss my spoon back into the hole and on its descent tom the bottom, I hook another.  This one has some weight and fight.  When I look up to gloat at Tecumseh, he is battling one of his own.  Of the two, mine is the bigger one, thirty two inches versus Tecumseh’s thirty.  

     We catch a couple more small ones before hitting a long lull in the action.

     “Tell me more about Demarcus,” Tecumseh demands as he continues to jig.  

     “He’s deceptive,” I answer.  “I think he’s a good actor.  He was putting on a good show that day we rescued Decker.  Demarcus told me he has some sort of a pact with a group of rebellious Sasquatch and a band of complicit humans.”

     “Complicit humans?”

     “Yes, missing persons.  They are teaching the renegade Sasquatch English and the covert nature of our human ways.”

     “So, there are other humans besides you and my Chippewa forefathers that have found their way to the other side?”

     “Yes, that was the message.  Loquius has also said as much.”

     Tecumseh pauses and tilts his head.  “It’s him!” he exclaims with a rapturous grin.  His little ice fishing rod is bent into a U and jerking wildly as line is being stripped off the reel.  Tecumseh grins, he is in no hurry and  is patient with letting the line play out, careful to use just enough resistance in order to turn the fish and begin the retrieve.  

     “Giigooh na, my friend,” he exclaims to the pike.  

Episode 5, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening by Richard Rensberry

     This morning I am excited to see that I will be receiving my results back from the research lab about the nature of the contents in the Sasquatch chewing tobacco.  I know this because I have an app in my phone that has forewarned me of what the mailman is stuffing into my mailbox.  It is useful knowledge for planning my day.  To the Sasquatch and Ted Kaczynski, such technical minutia are considered demons of destruction,  but I actually find some of them useful, at least to a certain degree.

     Man is man.  We are where we are at.  To me, construction outweighing destruction is the demarcation line.  I can’t nor don’t want to revert all of technology back to the stone age, just the trajectory of where it leads in the future.  That is what I believe the Sasquatch are attempting to help me do with their parchments and the simple plant called kenaf.  I am game to see where it leads.  I am interested in both the questions and the answers.  

     The lab from which I have received my results is a brand new high tech lab located in San Diego, California.  They can tell you exactly what and how much of what is in anything.  In this case, my Sasquatch chewing tobacco. 

     They have informed me that it is a concentrated mix of cellulose, minerals and cell salts.  It has high concentrations of selenium, boron, iodine, magnesium and a whole bunch of other trace elements such as colloidal silver, colloidal copper, and zinc.  

     And guess what, I can deduce and extrapolate.  I happen to know a Doctor in Hillman, Michigan who has done a massive amount of research on the infamous Covid 19 virus that has our world, our government, and medical communities all in a tizzy.  

     This doctor’s research has led to his super mineral complex that prevents the Corona virus from penetrating the cell wall.  These minerals and cell salts fortify the immune system and are a natural preventative from contracting the virus.  The virus breaks into harmless pieces when it encounters the cells mineral fortified walls.  Like anything, nothing is absolute, but our natural immune system is much more absolute than some RNA manipulating vaccination by Pfizer.  These new fangled vaccinations being propagated and touted by big pharmaceutical companies are not even close to an absolute, they actually have all kinds of adverse side effects including death.  Which is better?  A mineral enriched Sasquatch chewing tobacco or a vial full of chemicals and pieces of RNA from aborted fetuses and contagious viruses?   

     To me that’s a simple answer.  I am going to put my trust in the Sasquatch Council of Elders and their chewing tobacco.  

     Besides my trust in the Sasquatch Council, I am now certain of the minerals efficacy for the simple reason that my Doctor friend is being censored and attacked by big tech and big Pharma.  The Facebook and Twitter Police have hunted him down and thrown him into censorship prison for revealing the truth about immune boosting minerals.  Regarding the abuse of modern technology, Ted Kaczynski was exactly right;  Unabomber or not, the man was a genius.  

Episode 4, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening

     I traverse the ten yards to where Demarcus has leaned the useless gun up against the tree.  I want it, not for any specific reason that I can think of, except as a cool gift to give to Tecumseh for his memory bank.  I think he will get a kick out of having it around to re-experience his first and only Bigfoot encounter.   

     The forest around me has returned to its blanketed silence.  There is still no sign of Loquius and I am once again overwhelmed with the feeling that maybe I have been set-up.  

     “What are you doing, Loquius?” I ask the snow laden trees. 

     The only answer is a rustle from the arctic wind.  It is beginning to have a chilling bite and icicles are hanging from the hairs of my nostrils.  

     “Okay,” I say.  “You have taught me that nothing is by coincidence, and you are going to have some explaining to do the next time we meet.  We both need some answers.  I will fulfill my promise and go and do my part with the parchments and goodie bags, but you need to own up.”

     I have a sense he can hear me.  Maybe it is the warmth that I can feel in the Stone Without Time, or maybe he’s nearer than I think, whichever, it gives me comfort and I am ready to tackle the tasks relegated to me by Rutheeus.  I impulsively reach out with my index finger and momentarily feel the resistance of a finger pushing back from the other side.  

(to be continued)

Episode 3, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening 

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening

     If I were kidnapped by a Bigfoot like Demarcus and hauled off to Cross Over, would I be content to remain there and teach the Sasquatch English?  Not an easy question to answer.  Possibly, if I were not harmed, it could be tempting and even somewhat attractive considering the dark state our world has descended into, especially if I weren’t tied down to a family and I was granted human companionship to go along with my mission with the Sasquatch.  I can almost imagine a little colony of humans prospering and very happy somewhere in Cross Over.

     I have to wonder if Demarcus and his buddies are engaged upon some sort of benevolent plot similar to that in which I am engaged with Loquius and the Council of Elders?  Is it the Bigfoot renegade's goal to help the human race as well?  Rutheeus had warned me that the exiles would be of no help, but I am getting a different message from Demarcus. 

     It now seems quite plausible to me that I was a planned target of Demarcus’ that first time we met in the woods.  If it hadn't been for the intervention of Loquius at the right moment, I may very well be teaching Sasquatch verbs and nouns somewhere in Cross Over at this moment.  

     Once more a Bigfoot encounter has me grappling with a swirl of questions.  How much or how little does Loquius and the Council know?

     According to one of their parchment precepts; Nothing Happens by Coincidence.  

     Looking at the is of what is, I have to wonder if the exiling ceremony conducted by Loquius and Rutheeus was simply a show for my benefit?  Are there two Bigfoot plots at odds with each other or are they one in the same?

     I want to trust my Sasquatch friend and mentors from the Council; and yet I have an inkling of a possibility that I might be being played.  I remember the exact same feeling overtaking me when Loquius gifted me the Stone Without Time, an inkling that he was somehow leveraging my curiosity and naivety for some ulterior motive.  Am I the chosen one or just a dupe in a game of Sasquatchery with a plot far greater than I can comprehend?

     I am contracting a case of the shakes as I stand here contemplating my role in this game, not so much from the cold, but from the implications suggested by this new encounter.  Where did Demarcus snatch his captives from?  Should I be concerned and do I have an ethical obligation to find these people and bring them back from Cross Over in order to continue their human existence?  

     I look at the spot where Demarcus had just been standing, it is now empty, except for Decker’s bent and twisted gun leaning against a beech tree.  A small cross has been conspicuously scratched into the gray bark of the ancient beech.  

Episode 2, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening

In a flash I find myself face to face with Demarcus.

 I flick the safety off on the 30-30 and it suddenly feels like a pea-shooter instead of a weapon.  

I have no qualms about shooting if I have to, but I promise myself I will only do so in self-defense.  

Demarcus is standing motionless about ten yards away.  

Any aggressive move towards me and I am afraid the bullets will fly.  I am very aware that I will have little time to land a fatal shot before his big strides would overtake me. 

“Demarcus,” I say.  “I have no idea why you were exiled here, but I have no fight with you.”

Demarcus swivels his head and looks about.  

“Loquius with you,”  he manages to utter in a clipped and guttural way.  At least that is what it sounds like he is saying, though I cannot tell for sure or if it is a statement or a question.

“Loquius my friend,”  I say with my hand over my heart.

Demarcus looks around once again, seemingly searching for any sign that Loquius might be about.  

“Fire stick,”  he says and points a finger at my 30-30.  

“Yes,” I say to him. 

He shakes his head very slowly as if contemplating the consequences of the gun.  Then very slowly he reaches behind himself and lifts Decker’s bent rifle up for me to see.

“Yes.  I saw you do that.  I am aware of your strength and power.  I will not use the fire stick as long as you intend me no harm.”

Demarcus once again nods very slowly.  I am watching closely for any tension in his legs that would signal the intent to pounce.  I am not nonchalantly taking anything for granted, but I am not seeing any signs of imminent aggression.  

“You help Chiha Tanka.”

Again, I cannot tell if he is asking or stating.

“Yes, at the bequest of Rutheeus,” I say to him.

Once again, Demarcus is dead still with his deep set eyes locked on mine.  

“No hurt,” he says, “Humans teach us how to speak.”  He raises a hand and points in the the direction of Dead Horse Sink.

“You hurt humans?” I ask.

“Not hurt,” he says.  “We make cross.”

Demarcus makes a cross with his huge index fingers.

“You promised the humans?” I ask.

“Yes.  We promised.  We make cross.”

“Thank you, Demarcus.  Can the two of us make cross?”

Demarcus once again raises his arms and makes a cross with his index fingers.  I slowly set down my 30-30 and return the gesture.  

Episode 1, Sasquatch Novel
The Awakening

Sasquatch Novel The Awakening


It is full blown winter on the ridge beside Big Creek and the cedars and pines are dressed in cloaks of the purest white snow.  It is beautiful, though its beauty is disguised in an undercurrent of deceit.  The muffled silence is but a trick up the sleeve of a polar wind that is building to blow.  For now however, I take solace in the fact that Big Creek is a wonderland to behold.

It has now been over two weeks since Demarcus terrorized Decker and sent him packing back to Detroit.  This is my first trek into the woods since then, with hopes that Loquius and I might meet for a wintery escapade out of Big Creek into Cross Over.  I have been suffering from a case of cabin fever and my body needs a good stressing to awaken from its winter complacency.  

Despite the harsh cold I have worked up a light sweat trudging around in the woods with my snowshoes.  My legs are screaming in pain and beginning to cramp from the unusual motions and exertions.  It’s no mystery to me that I shouldn’t get all sweated up in the cold, so I pause and prop my 30-30 against a tree and take a breather.  I am about a quarter of a mile where I met Loquius for the first time in the spring of 2020.  

As I wait, I can feel The Stone Without Time growing warm in my pocket.  It has been turning on and off for the past several days.  I have caught glimpses of Rutheeus and some of the other Sasquatch elders rustling about in the stone’s depths.  To my dismay, however, Loquius has been totally absent from all this wavering visions and I am becoming concerned.  Where is my friend?

I pull the stone out into the cold hoping he might be there for my benefit, but all I see is a swirling fog without any discernible shapes.

I feel torn, especially about the gun.  I have never brought one into the Big Creek woods for fear it would cause mistrust.  But with winter set in, I don’t feel secure without it.  There are just too many uncertainties and dangers to being alone in the woods in February.  Even coyotes or wolves present a present time danger I would never consider in the summer.  

With my body cooled down, I pick up the 30-30 and move towards the destination of our previous meeting site.  I am very aware that I am the only movement and sound in the area.  As has been the case many times before, the hairs on my arms and back begin to prickle from the looming presence of a Sasquatch.   

Sasquatch Novel The Encounter can be purchased here

Cover for Conversations With Sasquatch, The Encounter by Michigan Author Richard Rensberry.

The Bigfoot Parchments 
can be purchased here

Cover for The Bigfoot Parchments by Michigan author Richard Rensberry.