Chapter One

MAYA RHINEHEART

July 17, 2024

"Hello, fellow truth-seekers and welcome to 'Footprints in the Forest'. I'm Maya Rhineheart, and if you're listening to this, chances are you're as fascinated by the mystery of Bigfoot as I am.

For those of you joining us for the first time, let me give you a quick introduction. I've been obsessed with Bigfoot since I was nine years old. It all started with a camping trip in the Yukon Territory. I got separated from my parents, and ... well, something happened. Something I still can't fully explain. But ever since that day, I've been on a mission to prove that Bigfoot is real.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking. 'Oh great, another crackpot chasing fairy tales.' Trust me, I've heard it all before. I've been laughed out of more academic circles than I can count. But here's the thing: I'm not some wide-eyed believer willing to accept any blurry photo or far-fetched story as proof. I'm a journalist. I deal in facts. And the fact is, there's too much evidence out there to ignore.

In this podcast, we're going to dive deep into the world of Bigfoot research. We'll examine historical sightings, analyze the latest evidence, and interview experts from various fields. We'll look at the science behind tracking elusive creatures and the anthropology of human-primate interactions.

But this isn't just about proving Bigfoot exists. It's about exploring the possibility that there's more to our world than we currently understand. It's about keeping an open mind while maintaining a critical eye.

"So whether you're a die-hard believer, a skeptic, or just someone who loves a good mystery, I invite you to join me on this journey. Together, we'll sift through the evidence, separate fact from fiction, and who knows? Maybe we'll finally uncover the truth about the elusive Sasquatch.

This is Maya Rhineheart, and you're listening to 'Footprints in the Forest'. Stay curious, stay skeptical, and keep your eyes on the shadows. You never know what you might see."

Maya leaned back in her ergonomic chair, stretching her arms above her head as she gazed out the window of her Manhattan apartment. The city sprawled before her, a concrete jungle teeming with life and endless possibilities. Skyscrapers pierced the sky, their windows glinting in the late afternoon sun. Far below, yellow taxis honked their way through gridlocked streets, and pedestrians hurried along crowded sidewalks.

This was her world—fast-paced, high-tech, and endlessly exciting. She loved the energy of New York, the constant hum of activity, and the creature comforts of her cozy home office. But even surrounded by all the modern conveniences of living in the greatest city in the world, her mind often wandered to wilder places.

She swiveled her chair back to face her desk, her eyes roaming over the Bigfoot memorabilia that covered nearly every surface. Plaster casts of oversized footprints. Blurry photographs that might show a hulking, fur-covered form. Books with titles like On the Trail of the Sasquatch and Bigfoot: Myth or Monster? A bulletin board was covered in newspaper clippings and handwritten notes, all related to reported Bigfoot sightings.

Some might call it an obsession. She preferred to think of it as dedication to uncovering the truth.

At twenty-four years old, Maya had made it her life's mission to prove the existence of Bigfoot. Not exactly a typical career goal for a girl from New York City, but then again, she'd never been typical.

She turned her attention back to her computer screen, where she was fact-checking a first-hand account from a Bigfoot eyewitness. It was eerily familiar to her own encounter when she had been nine-years old.

I was on a camping trip with my parents. Dad had always been an outdoorsy type, eager to share his love of nature with Mom and me. But I was a city kid through and through, more interested in my Gameboy than in identifying bird calls or edible plants.

That day, I'd wandered away from our campsite, bored and restless. I didn't mean to go far, but before I knew it, the familiar surroundings had given way to a maze of towering trees and unfamiliar terrain. Panic set in as I realized I was hopelessly lost.

The forest closed in around me. Every snapping twig made me jump. Shadows lengthened as the sun began to set, and the temperature dropped. I was cold, hungry, and terrified.

That's when I heard it—a low, rumbling growl that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I turned slowly, my heart pounding, to see a massive form emerging from the underbrush. It was tall—so much taller than any person I'd ever seen—and covered in shaggy, dark fur. Its eyes, deep and intelligent, locked onto mine.

I should have screamed. I should have run. But something in those eyes held me transfixed. There was curiosity there, and something else ... concern?

The creature took a step towards me, and I stumbled backward, tripping over a root and falling hard. I closed my eyes, certain that this was the end.

But instead of teeth or claws, I felt a gentle touch on my arm. I opened my eyes to see the creature—a Bigfoot—crouched beside me. It made a soft, crooning sound, almost like it was trying to comfort me.

Slowly, cautiously, it helped me to my feet. Then, with surprising gentleness for something so large, it scooped me up into its arms. I remember the warmth of its fur, the steady rhythm of its breathing, as it carried me through the darkening forest.

Before long, I heard my father's voice calling my name. The Bigfoot set me down at the edge of a clearing, our campsite visible through the trees. It looked at me one last time, those remarkable eyes seeming to convey a wealth of unspoken meaning. Then, in the blink of an eye, it vanished into the shadows.

Moments later, I was engulfed in my parents' embrace, their relief palpable. But even as they fussed over me, checking for injuries and scolding me for wandering off, my eyes were drawn back to the tree line. I caught a glimpse of movement, a flash of fur, and then ... nothing.

But I knew what I'd seen. I knew who had saved me.

Maya had known too. But he had talked to her. None of the other accounts she had read ever mentioned that Bigfoot had told them his name.

Kale.

Or maybe the boy had just been telling her that he was a vegetarian and wouldn't eat her.

The ping of an incoming email jolted Maya back to the present. She blinked, realizing she'd been lost in the memory of her childhood rescue for several minutes. That encounter had shaped the course of her entire life. From that day forward, she'd been fascinated by Bigfoot, determined to prove to the world that these creatures were more than just myth or legend.

Of course, not everyone shared her conviction. Her colleagues in the journalism world often regarded her Bigfoot research with barely concealed amusement. Friends would roll their eyes when she brought up the topic. And her boyfriend, Eric ... well ... he was a dick about it.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Eric's name flashed on the screen. She sighed, hesitating for a moment before answering.

"Hey, babe," Eric's voice came through, sounding distracted. She could hear the bustle of the trading floor in the background. He was probably calling from work. "You busy?"

"Just doing some research," she replied, minimizing the map on her computer screen. "What's up?"

"Listen, I've been thinking," he said, his tone taking on that slightly condescending note that always set her teeth on edge. "We haven't had much time together lately. How about we take a little trip? Get away from the city for a while?"

Maya raised an eyebrow, suspicious. Eric wasn't exactly the spontaneous type, and he certainly wasn't one for leaving the city. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," he drawled, "I found this great deal on a cabin rental up in Whitehorse, Canada. You know, in the Yukon Territory?"

Her heart skipped a beat. The Yukon Territory? Where she'd had her encounter all those years ago? It couldn't be a coincidence. But then again, Eric had always been dismissive of her Bigfoot research. He probably didn't remember the significance of that location. Where to get the best shawarma in the city, on the other hand, that was right up his alley.

"Thought it might be nice to disconnect for a bit, just the two of us. No phones, no internet, real off-the-grid stuff."

Maya was stunned. This didn't sound like Eric at all. He bitched when his favorite Chinese food place was closed, and he had to DoorDash from his next choice and wait a whole five minutes longer. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I thought it would be nice," he snapped.

Feeling guilty about doubting him, she shuffled through her journal. There had been a lot of Bigfoot sightings reported in Canada recently. And Whitehorse wasn't far from where she'd gotten lost as a child. She clicked on a few links. Kluane National Park and Reserve was 163 kilometers from the center of Whitehorse. It would take about 2 hours to drive there or 40 hours to walk.

"Maya? You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry," she said quickly. "Just surprised, I guess. You've never been much for roughing it."

He laughed, the sound slightly forced. "Well, neither are you."

Understatement.

"I thought maybe it's time to try something new. What do you say?"

She hesitated. The idea of being out in the wilderness, away from her comfortable urban life, was scary. She became that nine-year-old girl again, lost in an endless forest. From that point on camping had meant staying at a hotel without room service.

But she hadn't been able to force herself to go back there since the incident. Maybe it was time.

"Okay," she heard herself say. "Let's do it."

"Great," Eric sounded relieved, almost too enthusiastic. "I'll make the arrangements. We'll go for the weekend, all right?"

After they hung up, Maya sat back in her chair, her mind whirling. Part of her was excited about the prospect of investigating Bigfoot sightings in person. But another part felt uneasy. She and Eric had been growing apart lately. His skepticism and dismissal about her views on Bigfoot had created an ever-widening wedge between them. She hadn't found the courage to end things yet, always finding excuses to put off the inevitable conversation. It was probably because he was the only solid relationship she had formed after her parents died. Sure, she had friends and podcast fans, but no one really special. She didn't even have a cat.

Most nights, if it wasn't for Bigfoot or her podcast, the loneliness was unbearable. Maybe this trip would be good for them. Or maybe it would be the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

She spent the next hour researching the area around Whitehorse, making notes on recent Bigfoot sightings and possible investigation sites. As the sky outside darkened from twilight to true night, she finally closed her laptop and stood, stretching out the kinks in her back.

Her apartment suddenly felt too small, too confining. She needed some air, some space to think. Grabbing her jacket, she headed out for a walk.

The streets of New York were never truly quiet, but the night brought a different energy. The frantic pace of the day had slowed to a more manageable rhythm. As she walked, letting her feet carry her without any real destination in mind, she found her thoughts drifting back to Kale.

She'd tried to tell people about him, of course. Her parents had listened patiently but ultimately chalked it up to the overactive imagination of a scared child. Teachers and friends had been less kind, their disbelief turning to mockery as she stubbornly clung to her story.

But she knew what she'd seen. What she'd felt. The warmth of his fur, the intelligence in his voice, the kindness in his eyes —it had all been real. And she'd dedicated her life to proving Bigfoot was real.

She'd thrown herself into research, devouring every book and article she could find on Bigfoot and other cryptids. In college, she'd majored in journalism, honing her investigative skills. Now, at twenty-four, she'd made a name for herself as a reporter and blogger, covering a wide range of topics to pay the bills.

Her Bigfoot blog had a decent following, but she knew she was still seen as a fringe figure in both the scientific and journalistic communities. Every time she published a new article or appeared on a podcast to discuss her research, she braced herself for the inevitable wave of skepticism and ridicule.

But she persevered. Because she knew the truth was out there. And she was determined to find it.

Lost in thought, Maya nearly walked straight into a street vendor packing up his wares for the night. She mumbled an apology, suddenly aware of how far she'd wandered. She was in a part of the city she didn't recognize, surrounded by unfamiliar buildings and faces.

For a moment, she felt a flash of that same panic she'd experienced as a lost child in the forest. But then she took a deep breath, reminding herself that she wasn't that helpless little girl anymore. She was an adult, capable and confident. She pulled out her phone, quickly mapping the route back to her apartment.

All praise Wi-Fi.

As she walked home, her steps felt lighter. The upcoming trip to the Yukon, whatever it might bring, was an opportunity. A chance to reconnect with that pivotal moment in her past, and maybe—just maybe—to finally find the proof she'd been seeking for so long.

Back in her apartment, Maya began to pack for her weekend trip. Her suitcase quickly filled with sweat-wicking clothes, decent boots, and all the tech she could reasonably bring on a supposedly "off-grid" vacation. Her movie camera went in on top, secured in its hard-shell case. There was no way she was missing the chance to document any potential Bigfoot evidence.

As she packed, her eyes fell on two items sitting on her bedside table. The first was a battered old compass, a gift from her father on that long-ago camping trip. He had given it to her to prevent her from getting lost again. She had never went hiking after that, but she'd kept it as a lucky charm ever since.

The second was a framed photograph of her dad, taken just a few months before he passed away. He was standing at the edge of a forest, binoculars around his neck, a wide grin on his face. Of all her family and friends, he had been the only one who never doubted her Bigfoot story. He'd encouraged her research, even going on a few expeditions after her mom died and before his health began to fail. Carefully, she wrapped both the compass and the photo in a soft T-shirt and tucked them into her suitcase. Whatever happened on this trip, she wanted these talismans with her.

When she finished packing, she was too tired to go back to work. But as she turned off the light on her desk, she touched the Bigfoot memorabilia, the photos, and the stacks and stacks of research. For a moment, she felt a pang of doubt. Was Eric taking her to Whitehorse to genuinely try to save their relationship, or was this part of his plan to get her to "grow up and face reality"—as he often said when she was too busy working to Netflix and chill on the couch with him?