By Michael Avery
“Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine.”
Few people realize that this Three Dog Night song has ties with Colliding Rivers and the community of Glide, Oregon. A famous songwriter used to live in a log cabin overlooking the North Umpqua River. His mom got the family business of songwriting started when she wrote a hit for Elvis called “Heartbreak Hotel.”
Her grown son, Hoyt, used to invite a few local kids over to his cabin while he strummed his old guitar, testing his lyrics on his young critics. A friend of mine named Randy was one of this gang of ten-year-olds. One day Hoyt asked Randy and his friends what they thought of his newest composition, one about a bullfrog.
They liked it a lot, and so did Three Dog Night. “Joy to the World” became a huge hit for them. Hoyt Axton lived in the area for several years before divorcing and moving closer to the bright lights of the entertainment world.
Hoyt was probably the most famous celebrity living near Colliding Rivers, but having never met him in person made him far less interesting to me than Stan, a retired logger who reportedly talked to Bigfoot.
Befriending Bigfoot
Once a month, Stan held meetings at his house in the country to talk about his experiences with Bigfoot. He told me that he’d first met Bigfoot a few years back while out hunting near his property.
Stopping to rest near a clearing, Stan happened to glance out across the brush and vine maple at an old stump. What he saw made his jaw drop. Resting his arms upon the top of the stump, supporting his head, was a Bigfoot. According to Stan, the stump was approximately seven feet tall.
From conversations I’d had with Stan, I surmised that he was very psychic. When I first heard Stan tell this story, I wondered if he’d seen Bigfoot with his physical eyes or with his inner vision. I never did answer that question to my satisfaction, but considering Bigfoot’s use of trans-dimensional vortices, I suspect that he was both a physical being and a multi-dimensional one.
When the Bigfoot saw Stan staring in his direction holding a deer rifle, he stood motionless, but without fear. Stan slowly lowered his gun, then placed it on the ground at his feet. He began to speak in a soft voice, explaining to the Bigfoot that he meant him no harm. Stan said that he just wanted to give him love.
Stan told the Bigfoot that he would come back to the same clearing the following day. He would leave his gun at home. If the Bigfoot wanted to communicate, then he should return about the same time.
The next day Stan arrived at the meadow expecting to find it empty. But there, leaning against the very same stump, was the Bigfoot. Stan began to communicate telepathically. He told him about his home, and what he had loved about working in the woods falling timber. Stan told him about his wife and children, his hobbies, and his beliefs. The Bigfoot stood motionless, Stan related, focusing intently on the human standing before him.
That first meeting didn’t last long. The Bigfoot walked off into the forest and disappeared from view. Over the course of several weeks, however, Stan encountered the Bigfoot on numerous occasions, mostly near the clearing where they’d initially met. He would speak, and then wait for the telepathic reply. A trust was established.
According to Stan, little by little the Bigfoot began to communicate about his own life. There were small families of Bigfoot People living in remote areas in Oregon, Washington, and northern California near Mt. Shasta. This Bigfoot’s family lived close by. They’d been residing in the area for many years. The Bigfoot People had taken common names like the “Johnson clan.”
One summer afternoon, the Bigfoot took Stan into the forest where he lived with his family. Stan was accepted by them, and spent the night in the forest getting acquainted. He didn’t go into detail about the Bigfoot’s personal life and became quite evasive when asked about the location of the Bigfoot’s wood and stone dwelling. When I questioned Stan about the family, he would only say how accommodating and kind they had been. One child, about six feet tall, lived with the Bigfoot and his mate.
The Vortex
Perhaps the most remarkable part of Stan’s story was the mysterious vortex. He told me how to find it once, never suspecting that I’d get within a hundred miles of it. But I followed his directions and found a spot about fifty feet off the side of an old logging road, not far from Stan’s house. The air felt electrically charged.
Oh, I was tempted to step into the portal, but there were too many unanswered questions: What would happen, if anything? Where did it lead? Was there a door on the other side? And the big one, What if I went through and couldn’t get back?
But Stan had a guide. One evening the Bigfoot told Stan about the passage his people used to travel into the dimension just above this one. Whether it was a sub-plane of the astral or a higher one, I can’t say. The Bigfoot offered to take him through. There was just one catch. Stan would have to strip down to what Mother Nature had given him. His guide explained that anything metal would burn his skin in the process of passing through the vortex. Being rather modest, Stan refused to take off his briefs, which had a brass snap.
The Bigfoot stepped into the vortex and immediately disappeared. Summoning all his courage, Stan followed. He described a tingling sensation, accompanied by a strange electrical pulse. Almost immediately, he found himself standing on a perfectly manicured lawn. Not far away, a lion was grazing on tender shoots of grass. Stan explained that the vegetarian lion wasn’t interested in dining on the new arrivals.
In the distance was a beautiful white castle set against the iridescent blue sky. Following the Bigfoot to the entrance, they were greeted by what could only be described as a fairy tale family, complete with a young girl dressed like a princess.
Stan stayed in that land for several days. But upon returning through the vortex, he discovered that he’d only been gone about six hours.
At this point in retelling his story, Stan brought out a photo his wife had taken the evening he’d returned from his adventure. There was a bright red burn mark on Stan’s abdomen. It was the exact same size as the metal snap on his briefs.
I give Stan a lot of credit for stepping into the vortex. As I said, after hearing his story, I gave the matter some serious thought. One night I even camped out near the vortex. Before retiring, I placed a white pebble on top of a nearby stump as kind of a “get acquainted” gesture. The next morning, the white stone was gone. I was excited to discover that my gift had been accepted, but mostly I was freaked out.
While the idea of meeting a Bigfoot face to face was tantalizing, it was too big a step outside my young comfort zone. Would I do it now? Hmm.
From Wide Awake in Dreamland by Michael Harrington, pp. 4-9
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