Dear Beergirl and Beerboy Disciples,
I know you’ve heard of that lake monster, Nessie. Well, guess what? Canada has a lake monster, too. In British Columbia, in Okanagan Lake, lives Ogopogo, the lake demon. Or so the story goes, since Ogopogo is as elusive as Nessie. There are, though, true believers in Ogopogo.
There is one group of our fellow Disciples who have devoted their lives to documenting that Ogopogo lives. Three Beergirls and three Beerboys who live in Penticton, BC near Okanagan Lake work part-time at odd jobs to raise money for their research.
Unfortunately, five other of our fellow Disciples are their staunchest critics. They also live in Penticton, and work part-time, allowing themselves plenty of time to ridicule the lake demon believers. And work to prove the truth of their own lifelong obsession: that Sasquatch lives.
Yes, in the forests of southern British Columbia there is a long tradition of sighting Sasquatch – as Bigfoot is called in Salish, a First Nations language preceding contact with Europeans. Unfortunately, the loudest local critics of BC Sasquatch sightings are our fellow Disciples the Ogopogo proponents. And the fiercest Ogopogo deniers are our fellow Penticton Disciples who believe in the hairy humanoid.
Isn’t it possible the Lake Demon and hairy critters could both exist? On numerous occasions I’ve tried to politely to suggest this dual existence concept to each group. Alas, my efforts have failed. In fact, my efforts only caused the Bigfoot devotees to increase their efforts.
There had been Bigfoot sightings on a shoreline area of Okanagan Lake. The Bigfooters phoned their jobs, and gave their supervisors the code words signifying that a Sasquatch had been sighted and the Bigfooters would be skipping out on work.
At the lake the Bigfooters set up a trap they had deduced would be unresistable to every Sasquatch demographic group: 6-day-old pepperoni pizza, with extra tomatoes. Digital cameras were then hidden to record the Sasquatch’s anticipated late night scavenging. The seekers then retreated to their camp, far enough away from the Bigfoot hot zone so that they could party all night, and not spook the creatures.
The alternate time passage of party time drifted along, and at daybreak throughout the camp cell phone alarms sounded. The Bigfooters pulled themselves together, and hurried to the bait zone.
The pizza was gone! Or, most of it, at least. On the sand lay a few crumbs, and half-eaten tomatoes. The cameras were retrieved and rushed back to camp. They had achieved visual proof of Bigfoot!
Back at camp the celebratory beer bottles were opened even before the cameras were plugged into laptops. All 5 of the cameras and their matched laptops were turned on at once.
As the beer and digital footage flowed the devotees stared wide-eyed at the shadowy pizza outline. Then, off screen a roar sounded. Sasquatch! A few seconds later, on all 5 laptop screens, from different angles, a quite large reptilian head slowly came into view. One angle scanned out over the lake, showing all that could be seen of the creature. The head, and ever more obvious long neck, slinked along just a few inches off the sand, toward the pizza. The creature sniffed the pizza, then the eyes appeared to widen in delight, and the lips part in a thin smile. In 2 bites the pizza was devoured. The head then quickly rushed back toward the water, and with a muffled splash the creature submerged.
Then one of the women sat down and cried. Why? Quickly the realization of why dawned on the others. They had proof that the obsession of their hated rivals, the Ogopogo believers, actually existed. The Bigfooters had footage that would make them famous and rich, but couldn’t reveal its existence without validating their rivals. They were going to have to choose: money and fame with the accompanying ridicule from their rivals, or to keep quiet.
Dear Beergirl and Beerboy disciples, what do you think our Sasquatch-seeking fellow Disciples should do?
From the Mothership,