It's what happens at campgrounds that's important. Take, for instance, Curly Jack Campground in Happy Camp, the heart and soul of the country where Bigfoot roams, always successfully evading detection. The man in Site #4 was from Jacksonville, Florida, retired, a truck driver and deputy sheriff. He has a daughter, a mother, and cousins, but he wants to be alone prospecting for gold with his three dogs. "I'm not counting on it, though." "That there, is that your shower?" "It's a shower if a shower is something you get in and pour water over yourself."
A man pulled up in a compact, got out, and started talking, "Oh, I stay here for weeks on end. I'm into dredging for gold. A friend of mine got me hooked on it. I was driving back here last Tuesday and in front of my car, this animal bounded, not a bobcat, too big, too long a tail. It was a cougar. First one I'd ever seen." "You sure it wasn't Bigfoot?"
The campground host came by. "You're in the cabover, right? Do you have any small animals? Last, let's see, Tuesday it was, a young mountain lion went through here. He was young, all right. He jumped a horse and got kicked good. People with small pets better beware."
In town the next morning the sheriff drove up. "Have you seen a big, white dog running around loose? He broke his rope and has been chasing kids at school."
