Hunting Big Buds in Bigfoot Country

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I cling fast to the battered bed of an earth-spattered pickup truck as my guide deftly tools it down a narrow, unpaved road carved into the slippery cliff edge of a muddy mountain ridge — in reverse at full speed. He chats with me casually through the open back window, as if his high-speed automotive acrobatics are as normal as walking. I furiously scribble notes and puff fresh organic cannabis grown from the same warm earth that rises with the mist to meet my eager nostrils. I’m somewhere in the wild woods of Willow Creek, California, at the meeting point of Humboldt and Trinity Counties. I have come here, to the beating heart of the world-famous Emerald Triangle, to hunt legends. This is Bigfoot country, a fact advertised at regular intervals throughout the small town, from the shameless accumulation of Sasquatch souvenir shops and tourist traps to the explicit theme of our lodging for this adventure: the Bigfoot Motel. Here, we’ve booked the “suite” — a cozy cabin with a kitchenette, one bedroom and a wrought iron Bigfoot cage on the side of the patio opposite the charcoal grill. And it isn’t just a gimmick — or if it is, it’s one the locals are deeply committed to keeping up. Scratch the generally polite surface of nearly any Willow Creek resident and you’ll find a Sasquatch story. My guide for this excursion, Kyle Walton of Spire Ridge Farms, is no exception. He shares his theory as he effortlessly tools the sturdy blue pickup around a rain-slicked hairpin turn at full speed with all the interest of a man folding his socks. “Look, nothing can hide in these woods for that long. People have been out here looking for Bigfoot for years. If it was a big ape or something it would have been found…

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