Thom Powell was strolling through his overgrown backyard in Clackamas County, the Columbia River roaring in the distance, mossy pine trees around him reaching toward the starry sky. Suddenly, everything went black. He heard the footsteps of bipedal creatures approaching him on either side. He frantically clung to a nearby tree. Sandwiched between the two creatures, Powell felt a jolt of fear run up his spine. Then, ever so softly, one of the creatures brushed his ear with its hairy fingertips before retreating into the forest. 

As Powell entered his log cabin he heard an indescribable sound. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the ‘Saskies’ were laughing at him from between the pines.

Some Bigfooters share similar experiences with Powell, while others have never gotten close to having a visual encounter. Powell, an avid Bigfoot researcher, aligns himself with the supernatural side of the community. Dubbed the “woo,” these Sasquatchers believe that Bigfoot is an alien. Other researchers, nicknamed “apers,” hypothesize that Bigfoot is a hominid that lives in the woods.

Native tribes in the Pacific Northwest have shared knowledge of Sasquatch for generations. The Kwakwaka’wakw tribe of British Columbia tells stories of a hairy woman who carries misbehaving children into the mountains. The first official documentation of a Bigfoot encounter in Oregon was in 1904 when Oregonians reported seeing a wild, ‘hairy man’ by the Sixes River area, and sightings have been reported regularly ever since. 

“Interest in the existence of the creature is at an all-time high,” said paleontologist Darren Naish to Smithsonian Magazine in 2018. He added, "There’s nothing even close to compelling as goes the evidence.” But the Sasquatch-seeking community continues to grow, despite a lack of support from academia.

“The mystery is what keeps us coming back,” Powell said. “You’re always left to wonder and debate theories.”

Cliff Barackman at The North American Bigfoot Center, Boring, OR.

The North American Bigfoot Center wants to answer that mystery. Cliff Barackman, thecenter’s owner, is an enthusiastic Bigfoot researcher. He started doing fieldwork and research about Bigfoot in 1994 while working toward his music degree at California State University, Long Beach. During a two-hour class break, Barackman would hole up in the library and bumble through the stacks, reading scientific journals about Sasquatch sightings.

“I started reading about the actual evidence associated with Sasquatches, and that’s whatgot me on this path,” Barackman said. He first started going out Sasquatching in Northern California on weekends, hiking through the Sierra Nevada mountain range, and searching for a sight of the hominid.

Barackman worked as an elementary school teacher for 14 years until he got a call from the Discovery Channel asking if he wanted to head the TV Show, “Finding Bigfoot.” He was running a successful Bigfoot blog called North American Bigfoot and was excited to continue his passion on screen. “Finding Bigfoot” ran for nine years, taking him to 48 states and five continents.

“I met my wife on the show, in fact, I met my dog on the show,” he said. “So it really turned my life around in a lot of ways, and put me in a position where I could continue my Bigfoot research.”

Life on the road wasn’t glamorous. Barackman filmed six days a week and spent his day off doing laundry and trying to find a beer. He saved his money while filming “Finding Bigfoot” and, when the show ended, he started the North American Bigfoot Center.

Tucked away behind a Chevron gas station off Highway 26 near Boring, Oregon, the North American Bigfoot Center is a hub for all things Bigfoot — casts, memorabilia, footage and even a reconstructed Sasquatch nest. The door frame that separates the gift shop from the display section of the museum is lovingly signed by Bigfooters who have visited the museum from around the country.

“Other Bigfoot nerds like me,” Barackman said, gesturing to the signatures. Barackman finds himself as a focal point of the Bigfoot community. People regularly contact him with stories, research and questions.

He feels like the sensational side of journalism accentuates the ridiculous and paranormal parts of the Bigfoot community to get clicks. “We’re often portrayed as naive, gullible fools that are chasing lights in the woods,” Barackman said. He’s also frustrated by the “woo”, who Barackman thinks discredit more factual and scientific aspects of the Bigfoot community as supernatural extremists. “People love to laugh at us because I guess that makes them feel better about themselves,” he said. “We’re easy targets because we believe in the unbelievable.”

Powell’s garage is a home for the unbelievable. Rows and rows of concrete Bigfoot casts line the tables inside. Powell’s research desk sits in the corner, piled with a bottle of maple syrup, a heavily- used notepad, a magnifying glass and a bottle of cherry bitters.

Powell was a science teacher before he started searching for Bigfoot. A model of the solar system hangs above a framed and signed Coach Powell basketball jersey, remnants of his past life. Before he was a part of the Bigfoot community Powell made fun of Bigfooters, laughing at them because of their faith in so-called pseudoscience.

But his mind changed as he did more research. When Internet forums became accessible in the ‘90s, Bigfooters could document sightings and connect over shared experiences. Powell became active in the community, going to hot spots like Sunriver, Oregon.

Powell believes that Bigfoot is an extraterrestrial being tasked with protecting the human race that lives beneath the Earth’s crust with other aliens. He’s aware that his views might seem extreme but doesn’t mind if others don’t agree with him.

“There’s nothing I could say or do to change the mind of a skeptic,” Powell said, “and these things are too complicated for some people to understand…” He looks off for a moment, lost in thought. “Sasquatches are the guardians of humans, they’re running the show, the lords of the planet,” Powell said. “People like Cliff don’t want to hear about the supernatural, they call themselves researchers, but filter out what they don’t want to hear.” Powell believes that when researching a new field, like Bigfoot, one can’t pick and choose what evidence they see. It might be hard to imagine Barackman and Powell in a room together. “We’re like the ugly ducklings in a way,” Barackman said. “We tend to be rather pigheaded and stubborn individuals who don’t fit in anywhere else.” But at Squatchfest, Bigfoot researchers and enthusiasts of all mindsets gather, shaking hands and trading stories. Harsh overhead lights illuminate the events hall, creating an artificial glare off of the cover of Tim and Dina Halloran’s book, “The Bigfoot Influencers.”

The Hallorans are well-known figures in the Bigfoot community because of their unique approach to the subject. They want to spread the work of Bigfoot researchers and connect them with people interested in the subject. The couple’s book surveys 30 different Sasquatch investigators and serves as an “encyclopedia of Bigfoot.” Unlike Powell and Barackman, the Hallorans don’t adhere to an “aper” or “woo” philosophy. They simply want to share Bigfoot research with the world and help expand the community.

“We’re not judging,” Tim said. “We’re just laying it out there for people so they can pick and choose what they want to listen to and what they want to read.” But spaces like Squatchfest don’t appeal to all Bigfoot investigators. As a member of the Kwakwaka’wakw and Cree tribes from North Vancouver Island, Thomas Sewid is tired of white people shoving their ideology down his throat, whether it’s Christianity or their theories on Sasquatch.

Sewid drafted a set of guidelines that explain the principles of chance encounters with Sasquatch or Sasquatch investigation. It mandates that no one will hunt or kill the hairy man, and stresses that Native knowledge of Sasquatch is honored. Sewid won’t tolerate the erasure of Indigenous people’s culture and contributions to continue in the pursuit of Sasquatch. In his guidelines, Sewid stipulates that when people wish to investigate Sasquatch they must ask for permission and protocols of tribes because “they’re the ones that need to be respected.”

Sewid is a self-proclaimed bushman, spending extensive periods out in the wilderness and living off the land. He mocks outdoor enthusiasts who spend money on what he deems fancy equipment — expensive hiking shoes or camouflage print — as it’s unnecessary to be covert and thrive in the woods.

Unlike many other seekers, Sewid has had multiple encounters with the hairy man because of his extensive knowledge and connection to the wilderness. He goes out in his cheap Walmart shoes and cargo shorts, able to blend in with the environment around him seamlessly.

He even shared how he snuck up on a young Sasquatch near his cabin once. Sewid regularly shares his experiences on podcasts like “Monster X” and “Sasquatch Odyssey” and even takes tourists out on Sasquatch expeditions.

“[Sasquatches are] the perfect human,” Sewid said. “So when you look at a Sasquatch, you don’t ever think of them being inferior to you. The Sasquatch has forgotten more about the bush environment than you will ever know in your lifetimes.”

While he sees Sasquatches with a lens of respect, Sewid is sometimes disappointed in his own species. “We as a species have lost our way,” he said of the human race, referring to people who are cut off from nature living in big cities, including Natives whom he refers to as concrete Indians.

“We’re Indians. We control what happens with the Sasquatch in our traditional territories that we’ve shared with them since the dawn of our creations,” he said. “They’re just the other tribe anyway. They’re just bigger humans.”

As the weather warms, Bigfoot hot spots become more accessible to Barackman. He just made one of his first casts of the year in the muddy April grass near a section of the Clackamas River. 

Barackman feels most at home when he’s out walking in the woods, and if he happens to find evidence of Sasquatches, it makes his day. If not, that’s okay too. He’s doing what he loves and encourages others to do the same.

Thom Powell with one of his Bigfoot casts.