Northern Echoes: The Day I Met Sasquatch (And the Joy of the Wild Unknown)
Here at Vizsla Style we have embraced the Great Northern attitude, the joy of freedom, and the simple excitement that just looking out into the woods and hoping to see some wildlife might bring you some true wonder in the world.
We have created the Going Norther line to embody that joy and simple freedom that we should all have and pursue at all stages of our lives.
The deep forests of the North, especially up here around Coeur d'Alene and beyond, hold a certain kind of magic, don't they? For years, I've been drawn to these wild expanses, not just for the stunning beauty of the pines and the crisp mountain air, but for the whispers and legends of a creature that walks the line between myth and reality: Sasquatch.
Many a weekend, especially as the snow melts and the trails open up (like right now in early May!), has been spent trekking through dense stands of fir and cedar, eyes scanning the undergrowth, ears straining for that anomalous snap of a twig, that sound that just doesn't quite fit the usual forest symphony. Most trips yield nothing but solitude and the quiet satisfaction of being immersed in nature – which is a reward in itself.
But one trip, late last autumn when the foliage was a riot of gold and crimson, etched itself into my soul forever.
I was deep in a particularly remote section of the Idaho Panhandle National Forests, far from any marked trail. The air was still, heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth. A sudden, almost preternatural silence fell over the woods – the birds stopped chirping, the squirrels ceased their chatter. My senses went on high alert. Then, I heard it: a heavy, rhythmic thump-thump that was definitely not a deer or an elk. It was bipedal, powerful.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I froze, peering through a thicket of huckleberry bushes. And then, I saw it.
Moving through a shadowed ravine, perhaps seventy yards away, was a figure that defied easy explanation. It was massive, easily towering over eight feet, covered from head to toe in dark, shaggy hair that seemed to absorb the fading light. The sheer breadth of its shoulders was astounding. It moved with a surprisingly fluid, powerful gait, long arms swinging loosely. It paused for a moment, its head slightly turned as if sensing something, before stepping with impossible grace behind a curtain of ancient cedars and simply vanishing.
No growl, no threat. Just a fleeting glimpse into another world.
The encounter lasted mere moments, but the image is burned into my mind. In the aftermath, as my adrenaline slowly subsided, an incredible feeling washed over me. It wasn't fear, but an overwhelming sense of awe and profound wonder. To witness something so legendary, so elusive, with my own eyes… it’s a joy that’s hard to articulate. It was the thrill of discovery, the confirmation that our world still holds profound mysteries, and a deep, humbling connection to the untamed wild.
Some will scoff, and that's okay. But that day, the legend became breathtakingly real for me. The forests of the north keep their secrets well, but sometimes, if you're quiet, respectful, and perhaps a little lucky, they offer a glimpse. And that glimpse? It’s pure, unadulterated magic. Keep exploring, keep wondering. You never know what you might find out there.
Was this real, or perhaps just a dream... A simple excited thought that brings the great north, the outdoors, the simple life of wonder and joy that a child has, and perhaps the child in all of us should still have.
Going Norther... maybe something we all need... Going Norther, indeed!