Sasquatch Unplugged: Love, Loss & Bigfoot Conservation at Musick Creek Falls

In an exclusive Rolling Stone-style interview, the elusive Sasquatch opens up about the dwindling number of his kin, the challenges of modern romance, and how a hidden Sierra Nevada campground may hold the key to saving his species. It’s a wild mix of nostalgia, comedy, and environmental activism—set against the magical backdrop of Musick Creek Falls.

Sasquatch graces the (imaginary) cover of Rolling Stone, ready to speak his truth about life, love, and the fate of Bigfoot.

Meeting the Myth in the Sierra Nevada

Journalist: It’s a crisp evening at Musick Creek Falls, and I’m sitting by a campfire with the one and only Sasquatch (a.k.a. Bigfoot). Thank you for meeting with Rolling Stone. First off, how are you doing and what brings you to this neck of the woods?

Sasquatch: I’m always in the woods, my friend—it’s people who are finally coming back here! I’ve been roaming these Sierra Nevada forests for ages. Musick Creek Falls is one of my favorite hideouts. The hosts here don’t bat an eye when a 8-foot hairy guy raids the s’mores stash. They roll out the red carpet for even the strangest guests. Honestly, I’m doing alright. But I won’t lie—there’s a lot on my mind about my kind these days. Fewer of us are around, and fewer humans even notice. So I appreciate you making the trek out here to hear my story. Just another night under the stars for me, but a pretty special interview for you, huh? [He winks].

Journalist: Very special, indeed. Let’s dive in. Sasquatch sightings are getting rarer and your species’ numbers seem to be declining. What’s going on out there?

Love in the ’80s & the Lonely Times Today

Sasquatch: [He lets out a nostalgic sigh] You know, back in the ’80s and ’90s, it was the golden era for us Bigfoots. The world felt big and wild. I could put my ear to the ground and find a date in the Sierra Nevada with relative ease. If there was a lovely lady Sasquatch within 50 miles, I’d know. We’d meet up by moonlight behind some pine trees… life was good!

But now? Hah. Let’s just say the dating pool dried up faster than a creek in August. There are so few of us left roaming around that if you do manage to find a girlfriend, it’s basically a community relationship. You don’t really lose your girlfriend anymore – you just lose your turn. [He chuckles darkly] It’s bleak, man. In the old days, you might have a little jealousy or competition, sure. Now, we’re just happy to see another Sasquatch once in a blue moon. It’s like living in a ghost town where you are the ghost.

Journalist: That’s… both hilarious and heartbreaking. So you’re saying the Sasquatch dating scene has truly entered the Tinder famine. Fewer mates to choose from, hardly any encounters…

Sasquatch: Exactly. I can’t swipe right if there’s nobody left to swipe! And for the record, I prefer “SquatchMatch” — way more niche. [He laughs] But seriously, it’s a numbers game and the numbers aren’t in our favor. In the ’80s I could stumble into a potential Mrs. Bigfoot on a single hike. Now I’m lucky if I catch a whiff of Sasquatch scent once a year.

On Family and Fatherhood

Journalist: Do you have any children of your own? Little Bigfoots running around somewhere?

Sasquatch: [Scratches his head] You know, I get that question a lot, and the answer is… maybe? I’ve sired a few young over the decades—I think. It’s not like we have a Sasquatch census or 23andMe for Bigfoots. I’ve always been a nomad, wandering from Northern California to British Columbia. Casual encounters happen when you live on the move. So, could there be a few mini-Sasquatches out there with my eyes and unparalleled hair? It’s possible.

Truth is, in Sasquatch culture the dads aren’t exactly packing school lunches and driving carpools. We’re elusive by nature. If I did have a kid, I probably scared the heck out of them by accident and they’re off doing their own thing now. So I can’t give you a firm number. Let’s just say I might see a teenage Sasquatch one day and think, “Hmm, the nose looks familiar…” and wonder if I contributed. Until the Maury show does a “You are the father!” episode for cryptids, I’ll remain unsure.

Journalist: That’s a wild thought — there could be a whole new generation of Sasquatch out there, and you wouldn’t even know if you were their dad.

Sasquatch: Crazy, right? Maybe it’s for the best. Mystery is kind of our brand, after all.

Where Have All the Bigfeet Gone?

Journalist: Let’s talk about why Sasquatch sightings (and presumably Sasquatch themselves) are so few and far between nowadays. What do you think is causing the decline? Is it environmental? Or are you all just getting better at hide-and-seek?

Sasquatch: [He gives a wry smile] Oh, we’ve always been great at hide-and-seek. But it’s more than that. There are some obvious, serious factors. Deforestation, for one. Humans have been cutting down my hiding spots for a long time. Every year, a bit more of our habitat disappears. It’s tough to stay hidden in a forest that’s half the size it used to be, or gone entirely. We lost a lot of prime real estate to logging and wildfires. A cousin of mine used to live over near Tahoe; then a housing development went up and poof – no more forest, no more cousin. When your living room turns into a parking lot, you either move or you get erased.

Then there’s plain old lack of wilderness. Sure, on paper there are millions of acres of forest. But people tend to cluster in the same well-trodden spots. Did you know when tourism is highly concentrated in a few iconic areas, it actually hurts those environments and leaves other areas emptysolimarinternational.com? I read that somewhere. So you have overcrowded parks where no Sasquatch with sense would show his face (who wants to dodge selfie sticks in Yosemite?), and then huge swaths of off-trail wilderness where no humans ever venture. We might be in those quiet areas, but if no one’s around to spot us, do we even count? It’s the old tree-falling-in-woods dilemma.

Journalist: That makes a lot of sense. Habitat loss would naturally reduce your population, and human recreation patterns mean we’re not exploring the remote areas like we used to. In fact, many people barely spend time outdoors at all these days. I saw a report that a majority of Americans spend an hour or less outside per day, and nearly one in five spends less than 15 minutes outdoorsmedium.com.

Sasquatch: Exactly! How are you gonna discover a Sasquatch if you can’t even be bothered to step outside for more than 15 minutes? You humans have gotten… how do I put this gently… soft. Back in my day (wow, I sound old), folks were hiking, camping, getting lost intentionally. Now a lot of you prefer “glamping” within range of a cell tower, or just staying home streaming nature documentaries instead of experiencing the real thing. If people don’t go deep into nature anymore, their odds of encountering me drop to zero. I used to watch backpackers stroll through my territory all the time in the ’70s and ’80s. Now, it’s quiet out there – except maybe on a super popular trail. Y’all stick to designated paths, snap a pic at the overlook, then leave. Meanwhile I’m 2 miles off-trail having a blast with the bears and nobody knows!

Journalist: You’re saying humans have lost their adventurous spirit?

Sasquatch: Many have, sadly. And even when people do venture out, they’re not paying attention to the woods. They’re looking down at their phones! I swear, modern hikers are like zombies staring at GPS and Instagram instead of the trees. The average American spends over 7 hours a day staring at some kind of screenexplodingtopics.com. Seven hours! We used to spend that long just wandering for food. Now humans use that time to watch strangers dance on TikTok. If one of my buddies sat next to you on a subway, you probably wouldn’t even notice – you’d assume it’s some guy in a Chewbacca hoodie and keep scrolling Twitter. I’m not kidding: everyone is so glued to their devices, they wouldn’t spot a Squatch if I sat down right next to them during the morning commute.

“If we can leave no trace, so can you.” – Even the U.S. Forest Service enlists Sasquatch in public service messages, encouraging humans to protect the wildernesscommons.wikimedia.org. When people overcrowd or mistreat natural areas, it harms creatures like Bigfoot and countless real wildlife.

Journalist: [Glancing at the “Leave No Trace” poster of Sasquatch] It’s ironic: you’ve become a mascot for respecting nature, yet not enough people are actually in nature to maybe encounter you. And when they do go, some don’t treat it well. Over-tourism in a few places, and apathy toward the rest.

Sasquatch: Right. My remaining cousins and I keep a low profile, but we’re out here. We’d love to meet you (from a distance) if you’d just put down the phone and look around quietly. But hey, I get it. Modern life is noisy and busy. Which is why places like this one are so important. It gives me hope, honestly.

A Sasquatch Sanctuary at Musick Creek Falls

Journalist: That brings us to Musick Creek Falls. This campground is doing something different, isn’t it? The hosts here – Shandie and her partner – what are they up to, and why does it matter to you?

Sasquatch: [His face lights up] Oh man, Musick Creek Falls is a gem. They’ve basically created a sanctuary where humans can reconnect with nature in a meaningful way. I tip my hat to Shandie and her manfriend. They are working tirelessly to get people out of their city shells and into the wild – comfortably. They understand that deep down there’s an “inner Squatch” in every person – a primal, nature-loving side that just needs a chance to unplug from the digital craziness and be free. Here, they make that happen.

They’ve thought of everything. City folks come in all frazzled, not sure how to poop in the woods or filter water, and these hosts have it dialed. They literally roll out the red carpet (well, metaphorically) for visitors. Hot showers, cozy campsites, well-marked trails… all the logistical worries of camping are handled. You get the magic of the Sierra Nevada without the stress. It’s like they built a portal to a simpler time – you arrive and suddenly it feels like 1985 again (and trust me, I loved the ’80s). The air is clean, the stars are insane overhead, and your biggest concern is toasting your marshmallow just right.

And while you’re here having the time of your life, Shandie and crew sneak in the education piece. They’ll show you how to do things sustainably. Composting toilets that don’t make you gag – they have those (and as someone who occasionally uses them as a privacy shelter, I appreciate the cleanliness!). They’ll chat about sustainable forestry – like which trees to trim carefully, which to plant, how to respect wildlife. It’s subtle, not a lecture. But you leave here knowing a thing or two about taking care of the forest. The idea is you carry that mindset home, maybe become a little more conscious about the environment in your daily life.

Journalist: It sounds like Musick Creek Falls isn’t just a campground, but a model for a new kind of outdoors experience. Almost like eco-tourism 2.0 – extremely fun and comfortable, but also educational and conservation-oriented. I heard they only have four campsites on 40 acres, each with its own waterfall, to prevent crowding and overuse. And they run on sustainable principles – even advertising as the area’s first carbon-negative campgroundhipcamp.com.

Sasquatch: That’s right. Carbon-negative, baby! They actually absorb more carbon than they produce, by planting trees and managing the land smartly. How many camping destinations can claim that? These folks are basically running a live demonstration of sustainable tourism. Humans and forest in harmony. I haven’t seen this kind of thing before, and I’ve been around. If more places were like this, maybe we’d have more forests – and more of my family – around.

Let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot of campers come through here looking stressed as heck on Friday, and by Sunday they’re different people. They’ve got dirt on their shoes, twigs in their hair, huge smiles on their faces. They splash in the natural pools, hike to the waterfalls, stare at the Milky Way at night like they’ve never seen stars before (some probably haven’t, with all the city light pollution). It recharges their soul, you can literally see it happen. This place is so much more than just a campground – it’s like nature therapy. Or maybe “rewilding spa” is a better term? Haha.

And selfishly, I like Musick Creek Falls because it might just save my kind too. Every person who comes here leaves with a bit more love and respect for the wilderness. They become advocates, even if quietly, for preserving spots like this. Maybe they’ll support a conservation cause, or vote for a park measure, or at least not freak out if they ever see me in the woods. Every little bit helps.

Journalist: The way you describe it, Musick Creek Falls is indeed a “magical” corner of the world, a place to hide from the dull everyday and immerse in the Sierra’s beautymusickcreekfalls.com. It’s like the antidote to everything you were talking about earlier — the screen addiction, the apathy, the overcrowding elsewhere.

Sasquatch: You got it. It’s a place where humans can be humans, in the old-school sense, and maybe remember they’re part of nature too. Out here, you’ll find your inner Sasquatch if you let yourself. Who knows, maybe that’s the secret to saving us Bigfoots: get humans to act a bit more like us — live simply, respect the earth, and occasionally make weird howling noises just for fun. [He grins]

The Last Word

Journalist: This has been eye-opening and also genuinely fun. Before we wrap up, any final thoughts or wisdom you’d like to share with our readers?

Sasquatch: [He leans forward, steepling his enormous, hairy fingers] Just this: life’s too short to spend it all indoors or on a screen. There’s a whole world out here that’s breathtaking – and it needs your help as much as you need it. So go find it. Whether it’s a weekend at a place like Musick Creek Falls or a hike in your local park, get outside and reconnect with that wild side. We all have a bit of Sasquatch in us (well, some more than others in my case). Don’t ignore that.

Also, treat nature with respect. Pack out your trash, don’t feed the wildlife, maybe ease up on cutting down my forest home for strip malls, alright? If we all do a little of that, maybe sightings of all wildlife (even legendary ones) won’t be so rare.

And hey, if you ever do cross paths with me out there, no need to scream and run. A nod or a thumbs-up will do. I’m on your side. We’re all in this wild world together, folks. Let’s keep it wild.

Journalist: Beautifully said, Sasquatch. Thank you for sharing your story. Who would’ve thought the Missing Link would turn out to be such an articulate advocate for sustainable living?

Sasquatch: [Laughs] I do what I can. Thank you for listening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I hear an unattended picnic basket calling my name.

As our interview concludes, the giant figure shuffles off into the darkness, melting into the trees as if he were never there. The campfire crackles and the falls roar softly in the distance. It does feel a bit magical, this place.

Twilight at Shaver Lake, just down the road from Musick Creek Falls. This tranquil Sierra Nevada scenery is part of what makes the area so special. Visitors describe their stay as “absolutely magical… like our own private paradise,” and vow to return againhipcamp.com.

If you’d like to experience this magic for yourself – and maybe help prove Sasquatch wrong about people not paying attention – Musick Creek Falls is open for bookings. Don’t take our friend Bigfoot’s word for it; dozens of campers have left glowing reviews of this “hidden gem” of the Sierra. They speak of breathtaking waterfalls, star-filled nights, and hosts who make you feel at home from the moment you arrive. Sustainable tourism isn’t just a concept here – it’s the way of life. Musick Creek Falls might just be the model of how forest and man can live in healthy, symbiotic relationshiphipcamp.commusickcreekfalls.com. Who knows – by reconnecting with nature in this little paradise, you might not only find a better version of yourself, but help keep the legend of the Sierra Nevada Sasquatch alive for generations to come.

So put down the phone, grab your sense of adventure, and come see what all the fuss is about. Sasquatch will be waiting – in spirit if not in person – to welcome you back to the wilderness. 🏕️🌲✨