Sounds Like Bigfoot… Smells Like Bigfoot… Tastes Like… CHICKEN!

So, today, I traveled to a small nearby mountain town to attend a meeting for work. One of my able chauffeurs, Julz, went along for the ride and the fun. This was the second trip she and I have made to said town. We went last week as well. On last week’s trip, she was driving, and I was riding shotgun on our return to Redding. At one point, we had to stop because I was going to be sick, motion sickness getting the better of me because of the medications I’m on.

Julz, ever the able helper, pulled into a paved turnout at the summit of a hill along the highway, and I rocketed out of the car, scurried into the brush, and deposited lunch all over a lilac bush. Unbeknownst to me, Julz was standing along side the highway, winking it up with these two fellows who were parked across the highway, eating lunch out of large coolers.

Apparently, when I was getting sick, these two guys looked at one another quizzically until one of them finally broke the silence with, “What IS that???”

Julz, looking for an entre into conversation with them, volunteered, “Oh WOW… it kinda SOUNDS like BIGFOOT!”

When I finally got myself back to rights and returned to the car, both fellows were staring oddly at me. Friendly sort that I am, I waved. They smiled and waved back, as Julz trotted back over to the car and got us on our way.

I immediately asked Julz, “What’s their story?”

“Oh, they route cables or some s**t like that, I didn’t really get into that much with them,” she reported.

Interesting.

“Feel better?” Julz inquired of me.

“Uh, yeah, a little,” I said.

“That’s good. You were yakking pretty loud. Those guys were kinda weirded out. I played dumb and acted scared and said that the noise sounded like Bigfoot.”

Bigfoot?  Seriously, what’s not to love about this woman? She’s adorable.

So, fast forward to today. We left Redding around 11:00ish after my doctor appointment and headed for the same mountain town. I was driving, as I seem to do better through the curvy 8-mile stretch near the lake if I’m behind the wheel. Despite being the driver, I still got sick. Quickly, I pulled the car over in a turnout (about 12 miles away from the one the previous week) and proceeded to hork up whatever was left in my stomach.

While I was dealing with that situation, I could hear Julz talking to someone. I was curious, of course, but still a little too distracted to scurry off to find out who she was talking to. When I was finally ready to continue on our journey, I walked back up to the car, as Julz was once again crossing back over from the other side of the highway.

I asked her what she was doing. She smiled, devilishly. “You won’t believe it, but those same two dudes were across the highway, so I went and talked to them. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. I told them a-gain that those grotesque sounds must DEFINITELY be BIGFOOT!”

So, we get to the town where my meeting is, and I stealthily seat myself in a rear row of the hall next to a young youth corps member who was there, with about eight other cohorts, to give a presentation about the wonders of their youth program.

I think these kids must have been camping out in the woods somewhere, because they smelled—I’m not really sure of the right word—Strong? Burly? Musky? Pungent? Unshowered? As much as I love teens, I have to admit, I was a bit grateful that they left before I did.

When I finished with my meeting, I walked down the main drag to a small coffee shop where Julz was waiting for me. Between the youngsters in the meeting and the exotic and strong smell of brewing coffees wafting out the doorway, my stomach churned, and I lost it again. Right. On. Main. Street. By the time we got to the car, all I was able to utter was, “The smells… like Bigfoot!”

I slept most of the ride home, curves and all. I was tired. Julz slowed the car at the lake on the way home, and we decided to take a quick dip. As I changed into my suit, I noticed in the rear view mirror that I must’ve been touching my face in my sleep. A LOT. The eyebrows I’d carefully penciled on this morning were gone. Is it still considered your ‘brow’ when there’s no brows there?

The absence of brows was enough to make me adopt a devil-may-care attitude about our little swim. “Eyebrows gone, wig off, Julz let’s hit the trail and see who we can scare now!”

As we closed in on the shore of the lake, we encountered a small clatch of young 20-somethings from Louisiana. We chatted, we swam, and then, as any good youngsters from the south would do, they whipped out a small bbq and began cooking a feast.

I was still in the water, enjoying the relative liberty I feel there, where skin and bones seem to ache just a little less these days. When I finally got out of the water, Julz had something meaty looking hanging from a stick. She asked me if I wanted some, and I declined. She tried again, saying, “Give it a try. It’s ALLIGATOR! All the way from Louisiana!”

I’ve eaten it before, so I wasn’t that impressed. Julz, however, was chowing on that stuff like she hadn’t eaten all week. When she finally stopped for a second to catch her breath, I asked, “So, what do you think?”

“OMG, you have NO IDEA how bad I want to tell you that it tastes like BIG FOOT! But pretty much, it just tastes like chicken…”