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My oldest boy, Steve, called me earlier this week to see if I was heading out in the mountains this long weekend. He didn't have to twist my arm very hard to get a yes out of me. ;-) I picked him up at about noon, after my honey-do list was done, and we headed out to the north side of the Fraser River, east of Mission. We chose to go in a FSR that would bring us to a creek valley north of the one where we both had sightings about 45 years ago. The valley of our sightings has become very popular with the local 4x4 and ATV groups, and would be busy on a sunny Good Friday, hence the detour to the back side of those same mountains. Once we got to our chosen branch FSR, we had the place to ourselves, other than 1 truck headed out as we went in. The previous 3 nights had brought heavy rain via thunderstorms, so the road was a little slick, and coated the Hummer with a nice tan coat of mud, rubbing off on our pant legs every time we got in or out of the truck, and washing away any hopes of seeing tracks. Not only were no tracks spotted, no animals were seen all day, either. Every branch trail that we attempted off the main one ended in washout, mudslides, or deadfall, and in 1 case, all 3 in the same spot! By 6 PM we called it a day, and turned around for the 1 hour run back to pavement on the washboard gravel FSR main. I was blessed to be able to get out in the hills with each of my sons on subsequent weekends, It felt like our outings when they were both still teens.

Welcome unlikely knot, Wend, Coyote138, and Alvan. Welcome Drwinter; I hope you had a good time at the Honobia Bigfoot Festival.