Among Other Things: Sasquatch name game

Recently the Tacoma and Missoula daily papers carried a feature story on unusual places that often surprise tourists visiting in the state of Washington.

A few years ago I made up a series of goofy name games involving names of cities, counties, towns and landmarks in various states. You may remember the one about Montana. Others pertained to Washington, California, Arizona and Wisconsin. I don’t recall running the Washington name game. So, here it is – with place names in caps.

Starr Tacoma detective Perry Manson and his Onalaska husky, Nooksack, recently encountered a Sasquatch in the Woodland near the North Bend of Onion Creek near Island Rock.

They had driven a Seven Mile stretch in a Dusty Ford from the Prairie to a Hilltop Vantage point, giving them a Pleasant View for the historic confrontation.

For two days they would Park from Sunrise to Sunset. Late in the second day, as Perry turned a Page in a book about a Pioneer, the pooch barked, “Ruff.”

The detective asked, “Oso you hear something? What — a Tiger, Beaver, Elk? Vail now, let’s see what the Outlook is.”

They were eager, a Sasquatch capture meant National media coverage throughout the Republic. Armed with a single Winchester, the Hunters got out of the car, aware of a White Swan soaring above. They descended the Blue Slide toward the Low Gap leading to the Blue Creek.

“Pysht,” whispered Manson, “No noise. I hear him Azwell. He’s in the Forest by the Little Falls. We’ll wait here for a Clear View.”

Soon, they saw a hairy creature emerge from the Foothill Cedar Grove and Steptoe to the water to check a Fishtrap.

“Ahh, this is our Opportunity,” Perry told the dog. “Sequim!”

Nooksack bounded along the Cold Creek shoreline toward the Sasquatch, now in Plain sight.

“Utsaladdy, you’ve got him trapped on the Rocky Point. Keep him off that Mossy Rock or he’ll fall on his Tumtum. Harrah, we’ve got him!”

But the Scenic area was not to be a Battleground as the creature suddenly cried out in a Brooklyn accent, “Hay, what are you Boyds doin’?”

You could’ve knocked Perry over with a Peony or a Daisy. He exclaimed, “Holy Toledo! You speak? Let’s talk.”

“Throw me a Robe first.”

“Ohop on over here, don’t be bashful.”

As the Sasquatch started across the creek, a huge White Salmon grabbed a big foot, pulling him under. He surfaced with a Yelm. “Puyallup. Pullman, pull!”

With the dog in the Center of the stream helping Sasquatch Dodge the big fish, Perry pulled the strange Bodie onto a Warm Beach.

“Wow,” the detective said with Relief. “You almost drowned.”

“Yeah, there oughta be a Ferry here,” Sasquatch said, taking a blanket from his rescuer. “Oh oh, there are no buttons on this.”

“Wellpinit. Here are some Moclips. Who are you?”

“Wilson Allen Carlisle,” he said with a formal Bow. I was tired living in Concrete Urban jungles like Brooklyn and Cleveland, so I got into my old Packard and headed west. The car Queets on me in Spokane so I trades it for a Plymouth and later a Lincoln. Went through the East Gate of the Cascades at Winthrop, wrecked the car near Manzanita and took off into the woods. Here I’ve had total Liberty, living off Clearwater streams, eating Camas roots, wild Rice and Glacier ice. I feel like a Sultan of the Orient. Royal City, man. I built a Marble Grotto on that Grand Mound over there. That’s my Castle Rock.”

“Well,” said the detective, “you Kent live like this. Camano back with us to Tacoma.”

“No way,” he objected, “A Rainier place there ain’t -- except for Seattle. I’m stayin’ here on the Sunnyside of life. This is Paradise, a regular Eden and I Shine at survival. There’s a certain Grace to this kind of living. It’s almost biblical. You know, ‘Sekiu and you will find, Usk and it will be given.’”

As they talked Sharon Stella Shaw, a recent Vassar graduate, drove up, stopped her Mercury Cougar. She and friends, Elma, Ethel, Florence, Hazel and Holly were en route to an Avon party at the Seaview home of Janice Joyce Jared and her sister, Juanita. The driver commented, “That guy looks like an Aladdin in a Hollywood movie, some kind of alien Spirit. My husband George would probably dunk him in Creosote.”

“Lummi see him,” a passenger said.

“No, I’m not going to Turner there. It’s a Long drive to Ilwaco and we’re late.”

The Sasquatch overheard the women and said, “See, they don’t understand. I don’t want to Clipper my hair, Cook canned food, eat Bacon with Forks, or sit on a Cashmere covered Davenport. I just want a Clear Lake, Humptulips, an Emerald Cove in a Big Lake with a Mountain View. Without them, I’d Mold and rot away. Take me to the city and I’ll get Matlock to defend me”

“Simmer Downs,” said Perry. “You can stay here — a Freeman in this Freeland. We’ll bother you no Moore, and we’ll Duvall we can to keep from Baring your secret. C’mon, Nooksack, let’s Govan home.”

Special thanks

A special thank you goes to the two gentlemen who changed a flat tire on my car in the Polson post office parking lot Sunday afternoon. Their help was deeply appreciated.