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| Cut River at Lansing Rd Houghton Lake Area |
Fact: A few years back a group of
Bigfoot hunters came to Houghton Lake to film the stories of local
residents claiming to have seen, heard or smelled the elusive
Michigan Bigfoot. There was an ad in the local paper inviting anyone
with a story to come to the Playhouse on a certain day. I don't
remember the exact day but I do remember thinking I would have
something better to do with my time than listen to a bunch of reality
TV wanna be's. What happened next was about 18 months later. It
doesn't matter if you believe me. I'm just telling a story. A fish
story if you will because that's where this begins.
Lansing Rd is a scenic dirt road that
runs about five miles between Roscommon County Rd. 100 and Michigan
Hwy. 18. The Cut is a small river that runs from Higgins Lake south
to Marl Lake along the east side then wanders through thousands of
acres of mostly undeveloped land. Eventually crossing under Lansing
Rd and then on to meet Backus Creek before spilling into Houghton
Lake. The spot where the river runs under Lansing Rd was a favorite
fishing spot for Bluegill and Rock Bass until the fish moved on. Now
it's mostly tangles of deadfall, and home to a few small Suckers and one very
large snapping turtle. And there's something else.
I enjoy fishing in this spot because no
one goes there anymore. Except for the occasional sight-seer
driving by it's peaceful, almost secluded. It was a moderately warm
sunny day in the fall. I set up my folding camp chair, baited my hook
and took aim to the left of the dead tree reaching halfway across the water. As I sat in quiet reflection of my wasted youth, I
noticed a small black snake called a Water Moccasin slither across my
shoe and down a snake hole I hadn't noticed before. I learned long
ago in nature if leave it alone it will leave you alone. Usually.
I was there about fifteen minutes when
the wind shifted and I caught a whiff of what I thought was skunk
grass. It was at some distance away because my eyes hadn't started to
water. Then I heard it. A loud bellow the likes of which I
had never heard. It sounded like a cross between an elephants
trumpet, a lions roar and a bawling bear. All mixed into one.
At first I thought someone was driving
up the road with their sound system cranked up loud. But no one passed me and the sound wasn't repeated. I resumed my attempt to catch
anything. A few minutes later the bellow came again only louder and
closer. This time I could tell it was coming from the woods to the
left of the river. I considered someone might be camping nearby but
the trees and vegetation on both sides of the river is very dense. Also there are no roads or two track paths coming off the road and going into the woods anywhere
nearby. Still I decided that it was just someone playing a joke on me. I wasn't about to let anyone get the better of me by running off. I kept on fishing.
It came again, louder and longer
than before. Suddenly I realized the strange odor which had
increased, was coming from the same place. The area was inaccessible. No one could get back in there, especially with a sound system strong
enough to produce this volume of sound. This was no teenage prank.
A bear, I thought, perhaps coming for a drink of
water or some fish. I kept looking to the road half
expecting to see a bear standing there. Watching me. Each time
I looked, just empty dirt road. My bravado began to fade. Fifteen minutes passed and I thought the
creature must have moved on. Anxiety built inside me. I reasoned
the fish weren't biting so I reeled in my line and began to pack up
my gear. I glanced at the road. Nothing
Now let me interject right here that I
am a portly man. I weigh over 300 lbs. If you were being chased by a
bear, I'm the one you would want along because you could outrun me.
But let me tell you, when I heard that last roar, sounding like it
was right next to my ear, I could have outrun Satan himself. It
wasn't until I was in my Ford Explorer, fishtailing down the road
spraying dirt and gravel everywhere, that I chanced a look in my rear
view mirror. All I could see was the fishing gear and chair I had left behind.
I stopped and made a Y turn, driving back toward the river over pass. There was nothing
but dirt road. I loaded up my gear and kept on driving west to M-18. I thought I might
catch sight of some of some jokers having a laugh at my expense. I didn't see anyone until I got to M-18.
It was a few months later that I
remembered the television show on Bigfoot. It was on OnDemand so I
watched it. My experience was not exclusive as others had
described hearing an almost identical sound and describing the same
odor. I was not alone.
Eventually I went back but I haven't heard the sound since then. I have found several extremely large and deep prints, like a
dogs prints only bigger and wider. Was it Bigfoot? Was it Dogman? The
footprints would lean toward the later. I have seen those prints near
the Muskegon River also though no odor or sound.
Well, that's my story. Believe it, don't believe it. It doesn't change anything. But if you find yourself on Lansing Rd by the Cut River, and there's an odor like skunk grass in the air, I
would just keep on going. After all the fishing there isn't very
good. Besides I've found if you leave nature alone it will leave you
alone. Usually.
Until tomorrow,
Ken
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