I know the Palmer area well, spent a lot of time flying, hunting, fishing, and working there. Learned to use a double-bubble scribe for constructing log homes from the longtime wrestling coach, a very dear friend of mine, now passed away. The next one was my team-mate in college. I did a number of summer clinics there.
Baker Bob flew his prostitutes out on the gigantic combined river fields off the interface of the Knick and George Glaciers, I have some stunning photos of that area. I put down in some of his sites to get a feel for what it must have been like for the naked girls he hunted down with a bow there. Right here is one:
He knew they'd die of exposure if he couldn't find them and squeeze off a shot with his .223 or lob in a razor-tipped arrow. He'd fly them in handcuffs out there in a supercub just like mine, let them go, and give them a little head start.
Took a sheep backpacking out of Lazy Mountain. A moose up Wolverine Creek. I did a lot of construction in the Sands Lake area across the valley, mostly roads and building pads.
I met some of the people in the fundy circles of the Pilgrim family up off Clark-Wolverine road. I picked them up hitch-hiking to town twice. Never smelled people that bad before, My God. The ones I picked up lived in a beat-up trailer and they had horses. It was apparently the one place Papa Pilgrim let the kids go, and even those people opened their eyes to the "outside world". Where the girls learned child rape is not normal.
I kept my supercub at the Butte, by the drag racing strip. Those in the know will recognize this vicinity as the epicenter for all things Hillbilly and weird, definitely rich in Bigfoot theory and whose birth stock probably measured the lowest in math comprehension ever seen on the international PISA tests.
I landed and parked once in a hayfield near those religious people, and that farmer had a bunch of foster kids working the farm for him. So he got both their foster care stipend and labor on the farm. Across the valley from them was the Palmer Prison. lol. I thought the food there was quite good. A Hell's Angel living nearby (by Chickaloon) had a big pot farm back then. He put the plants in a barn at night, then back out during the day to control the flowering.
I mention this to put a context on this poster from Palmer. You don't want to paint a whole area with one brush. I also did a feasibility study in 2015 for a group trying to put together a Performing Arts Center in Palmer. Because the population has had staggering growth this last generation from an influx of suburbanites from Anchorage. So the old hillbilly and drag-racing crowd, the religious separatists, outlaw bikers and all are increasingly a minority. But if you are going to find a mileau where bigfoot thrives, that's the place.
And in the amount of time I have spent all over there, from the air, shooting animals and so forth, there are no bigfoot.
