Yes Folks it's true,
The BROADWAY BOD BUSTERS did indeed find Bigfoot.
Biggie, as it is know to family members and close friends, also known as Sasquatch, is an alleged ape-like creature said to inhabit remote forests, mainly in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States and Canada.
Bigfoot is sometimes described as a large, hairy bipedal hominoid, and some believe that this animal, or its close relatives reside in Kent, Wash. This simply is not the case. With a large ongoing debate on whether it exists or not, many scientific experts on the matter consider the Bigfoot legend to be a combination of folklore and hoaxes. Despite its uncertain scientific status, The Broadway Bod Busters have at last proven beyond a shadow of a doubt there is indeed a Bigfoot.
It started one gloomy November day in 2007 after the flying season had hibernated and gone to sleep like Dick Salter at a stunt contest.
I was home working on my papier-mache copy of the Tour de France when the phone rang, it was Jeff, The Rein Man, who sounded worked up.
"I have been invited to speak at the Crazy Dog Mushing Kennels in Gakona Alaska. You wanna go?"
"Sure" I said. "What's the occasion?" There was a long pause on the other end , and finally he said. "They want me to bring my Bi-Slob and speak about it."
"Run that by me again?" "They want to hear me speak about the Bi-Slob," he repeated, "I get paid and everything.
"You're giving a keynote speech to the Crazy Dog Mushing Kennels on the Bi-Slob?" "Yes. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"Okay, I'm in! By the way.where is Gakona?"
"I''s near Glennaller," "Oh, by the observatory?" "Yep, the very same."
I was doubtful about why a mushing kennel would want to know anything about the Bi-Slob. Sure, it's been written up in a few French publications and journals since it was built, we believe this to be because of the beautiful sweeping lines and modification made to the once butt-ugly model by the now Bi-Slob obsessed Jeffery Rein.
"They like it" he kept saying. I just didn't see the connection. "Its because of the throttle control I put in it, maybe they can use it for dog races, you know, like to signal the lead dog." I said nothing but started looking around for my bags and warm coat.
Our trip to Gakona would require us to travel into the Copper River area with a Bi-Slob in a large stupid crate Jeff had overbuilt and placed on my old K2 skis.
"See, it slides." he said. "We can pull it." "I don't wanna pull anything," I complained, but there was no stopping the Kent Crusader. His head was filled with the glorious Bi-Slob and what he would say to the throngs who were supposed to be there.
Perhaps it would be how he defied conventional wisdom in its construction, consulting with such great minds as Dirty Dan and Steve-O who both hung up in disgust, before Jeff had completed the rather Bumble Bee-looking contraption. Who knows what goes on in his head, but he was definitely preoccupied with it all.
I gassed up the Short Buss and had the oil changed. The trip would take us 500 miles north of Anchorage. Bod Busters are always up for a road trip but when I mentioned Alaska in November the other team members ran like Sebastian Cole, they deserted like a Hillary Clinton campaign manager.
Jeff and I left on a Thursday expecting to be there bright and early Monday morning for his presentation. On our way, we stopped in at the Broadway Bod Buster Rehabilitation Center to check in on John Thompson. It seems John had "reacted" somehow to last year's flurry of Bod Buster articles he was compelled to edit. As I reckoned up the amount, there were only three lawsuits over copyright violations and one cease and desist order. Some editors are just touchy that way.
When John saw us, he was smiling wildly. He must have heard something funny and was laughing hysterically when we saw him. Our on-site nurse suggested that we leave as soon as possible; it appeared that she and security were playing hide and seek with John and would undoubtedly find him sooner or later.
The driving directions to Gakona were simple enough. If you're driving through Canada turn south at Tok on the Tok Cutoff as though you're going to Anchorage. We, however, turned east after lunching on some wild mushrooms that Jeff found by the side of the road. It may have been the lunch but we're both missing about six hours of time and if I didn't know better had wandered off the main road.
Lost like two eels in a sushi bar, we forged our way back into British Columbia completely, missing the Tok cutoff, and before long found ourselves in the North West Territories. The Short Buss was getting low on gas so we stopped at the next town, Yellow Knife, and discovered that we had indeed gotten turned around.
"I think we missed your speaking engagement" I said, "Yah,, there goes fifty bucks, maybe we can show it here!" "UmmmmI'm not sure that's such a good idea," I said looking at the town, "They might not understand and they probably have guns"
"Nonsense" he said, "I'll just unpack the crate, and you get the skis."
Meanwhile, back in Gakona, the Crazy Dog Mushing Kennels were in an uproar. We hadn't shown up or called, and all six or seven attendees wanted their money back. We didn't find out till later that it was Mikael Mc Hazel from Chugach, who originallymmisinterpreted the word Bi-Slob, all the while thinking it was Beau résoudre = Bi-Slob or translated properly, Beautiful Solution. All Bod Busters know, Mushers are great mystery fans and puzzel solvers, so right away we could see how such a mistake could have been made. McHazel had errantly believed that Jeff was a Puzzle Master, a common misconception, but Jeff is more of a puzzle than a puzzle master.
Anyway Jeff and I were in Yellow Knife dragging his stupid "Beautiful Solution" through the woods looking for an open field to fly it in.
"You're gonna get us killed ya know." "Quit whining and pull the sled."
(There's just no reasoning with him when he gets like this.)
We had gone maybe a quarter mile when we came on an open area adjacent to what looked to be a fish processing plant. "We shoulda taken the road," I said. "Shut up and help me get this thing outta the crate, we better fly it now, looks like its going to snow"
We strung the lines checked the controls then fired up the O.S Max .25 diesel conversion. It roared to life like a duck trapped in a pen. What happened next is almost scarier than watching Mark Hansen fly a Fast Combat wing. The O.S was warming up and the Rein Man was playing with the throttle, a small crowd had formed. All were admiring the Bi-Slob, which had brought a slight festive quality to the air.
His Worship, Mayor Gordon was about to take the stump and hammer out some political babble about the seven hobbies of highly effective people when something in the woods began moving. It was no more than 100 feet from the very spot we stood on so everyone all got a good look at it.
It was large and brown, furry like a bear but this was no
bear. Standing 8-10 feet tall and extremely long arms, it eyed us with suspicion
and began breaking branches off the nearest tree! "Jeff! We gotta
go!!!! "But he was preoccupied by the throttle setting and was
playing with the flaps. Screaming sounds were now coming out of the woods,
high pitched like a cougar but not the same at all. One hard and fast rule
all Bod Busters live by is you don't leave a teammate, no
matter what.
I was reviewing the why of this as Jeff sauntered out to the handle. More screaming and branch throwing was taking place, the townspeople had abandoned us, and to quote a phrase," ran like snakes in a basement" but do you think we were trapped, hopeless and alone? You bet we were!
Perhaps it was a flashback of the mushroom lunch, but Jeff paid no mind to the giant show in the woods so close by, and gracefully flew the chubby two-winged airplane into a series of vertical pogo stick motions using the throttle. As it passed by the Bigfoot, it seemed to have a hypnotic effect on the beast.and it stood there, moving it's head up and down with the airplane. A smile graced its hairy features and it peed on a nearby tree. As long as the plane was flying, we were safe, the tank had a full 4 ounces in it and that gave us approximately five more minutes to live.
The engine however, stopped suddenly and the Bi-slob fell to earth like a stone. Immediately, the thing in the woods began breaking branches and screaming again.
"WHAT'S THAT!!!!!" Jeff yelled.
"Time to go is what that is!" I said. We ran as fast as we could, leaving the Bi-Slob, its box, my skis and a variety of stuff behind. I looked over my shoulder as we did so and saw that the beast was trying to restart the O.S. diesel!!! I could hear the backfire and prop hitting its fingers, more screaming followed.
We made it home somehow and the loss of the once-famous Bi-Slob weighed so heavily on the Rein Man that he built an exact replica of the original, except this time it is a glow engine.
The pictures of "Slob the Second" is here for your enjoyment as well as a picture I took proving without a doubt that Bigfoot exists.
Remember, this is real and could happen to you!
KennyB And The Bod Busters.
This page was upated April 9, 2008