Singular Fortean

A bright, gibbous moon reflects off the deep Wisconsin snow, illuminating the forest around us and eliminating the need for flashlights. Emily and I are in the Kettle Moraine State Forest with Jay Bachochin, a researcher who’s been coming here the last two years in search of bigfoot.

“I’ve been coming here for almost two years,” Jay says. “I’ve known about Bigfoot since the ‘70s. I never, ever believed in Bigfoot. It wasn’t until 2013 when I went out in the woods, and we kind of heard some real weird, simian-type sounds. And we could not go back to the Wisconsin sound board of all the indigenous animals and identify it. But it sounded simian, and that’s when I started going out, and that’s when I found the footprints. That’s when I had the rocks thrown at me.”

Neither the small parking area nor the trail ahead are plowed, but Jay’s 4×4 SUV was up to the task of getting us here, and we’re dressed for the single-digit February cold, so we trudge intrepidly up the path and deeper into the woods.

The trail that leads us away from where we parked is buried beneath ankle-deep snow, and we’re immediately engulfed in thick rows of pine, cherry, and oak trees to either side. It’s here that I first notice the smell. A musky, rotten odor permeates the air, and I assume that something must have died nearby. I don’t say anything yet. I want someone else to notice it first…Read More at

Singular Fortean