Cop recalls his bagging of Bigfoot

Iain Ashley has been in law enforcement just four years. But already, the 24-year-old Stevens County sheriff’s deputy owns a claim to fame that will probably stick to him for the rest of his career.

He’s the cop who caught Bigfoot.

Ashley, alas, won’t get the book and movie deals one might expect from such an apprehension.

Maybe if it “had been something a little more paranormal,” says the officer. “But I don’t think Hollywood cares about a guy catching a kid in a monkey suit.”

For purposes of sheer hilarity, however, Ashley’s encounter with the unknown one night in June is priceless.

The lawman’s shaggy suspect turned out to be a 15-year-old prankster who, with help from several buddies, was trying to further the Bigfoot myth by prowling the shoulder of Highway 395 near Loon Lake during the dead of night.

Who says kids don’t have enough to do?

“It was the real deal gorilla suit,” says Ashley, “with fake fur, gorilla gloves and everything. I think they told me they’d gotten it from a cousin.”

The lads had apparently pulled this stunt a number of times throughout spring and early summer. Their hard work paid off, evoking a number of reports from mystified witnesses.

Ashley took one such report during the wee hours on Easter. He was filling his patrol car at a Loon Lake gas station when the driver of another car ran up and announced: “A gorilla just tried to jump on the hood of my car.”

You don’t hear something like that every day – even in Stevens County.

“I’ve had calls where people see things in the sky,” says Ashley, adding that one UFO he investigated turned out to be the light on top of a rock crusher.

Ashley jumped into his cruiser. He roared off to the site of the alleged gorilla sighting. He thought he spotted movement in the brush about 300 yards away, but nothing worthy of an “X-Files” episode.

In the ensuing weeks, buzz about Bigfoot continued. Ashley was curious, but he never dreamed he’d crack the case.

That happened about 2 a.m. one morning as Ashley headed home. He turned a little corner near Granite Point. There in his headlights was a sight he will not soon forget: Bigfoot, swinging his arms and shambling along the other side of the highway.

Ashley made a U-turn. He switched on his light bar and chirped his siren.

“All of sudden Bigfoot started running away,” says Ashley.

The deputy followed, soon realizing that this Sasquatch was not quite in the “Harry and the Hendersons” league. Bigfoot “started running up this hill and not doing very well. That kind of gave it away.”

Ashley, closing in, hollered for whatever it was to stop. It did. A few moments later, the Loon Lake Ape Boy was unmasked.

Two of the lad’s accomplices eventually stumbled sheepishly from the woods. They confessed to being Bigfoot’s traffic spotters. They even had a campsite. Another young man was not so brave. He “took off running towards Pend Oreille County,” says Ashley. “I don’t know where he stopped.”

Ashley asked why. “We just thought it would be funny,” answered one.

Good point. Even so, they should have known better.

Stevens County has more armed yahoos than Iraq. And every one of them would sell his remaining teeth to be the dude who bagged Bigfoot.

There was no real crime committed. Until Congress passes the Bigfoot Identity Theft bill, our hands are tied. So Ashley called for a state trooper who took the boys back home to Spokane Valley.

Because they are juveniles, Ashley would not release their names. Hopefully they will read this and give me a call. The public has a right to hear Bigfoot’s side of the story.

It’s not like they have anything to be ashamed about. In fact, Ashley says the bogus Bigfoot asked him for a critique of his performance. “You were very convincing,” Ashley told him. “Other than the fact that you’re 5-foot-8 and don’t run very fast.”