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Bigfoot of Two Harbors
Two Harbors, Minnesota, February 1972
It was President’s Day weekend, and Kerry Peterson was excited for an extra day off from school. A three-day weekend in northern Minnesota, in February, meant more time to snowmobile. With the sun shining brightly, it was a perfect winter day for being outside, cruising across the trails that bordered the small town of Two Harbors.
With about 24 inches of snow and drifts that were higher in some places, thanks to a recent blizzard, there were lots of great places to take the snowmobile. The Peterson family owned two of them. Kerry bypassed the powerful Arctic Cat, his father’s pride and joy, for the smaller Ski-Doo. It had more wear and tear, so that was the one the kids usually rode.
To make the most of his day off, Kerry decided to go back to a place he’d found by accident a few weeks earlier. The area was several miles north of town and was only accessible by riding on a secluded, “secret” trail for quite some distance.
Kerry drove the snowmobile up to the trail and got off his sled. The combination of the snow and the flat, unused trail meant the snowmobile could fly effortlessly over the powdered ground. No matter the terrain or trees on either side, he had a straight, smooth ride.
He headed north for about six miles, until he reached the hidden fields. The land was flat terrain for as far as he could see. He stopped there to check his fuel, wanting to be sure that he’d still make it back to town.
A short while later, he decided that it was time to head for home. Finding the trail again, Kerry began to make his way toward Two Harbors. After about 15 minutes, he entered an area with thick woods on both sides, but his open path ensured him safe passage between the heavy brush. It also gave him a perfect vantage point to see a large figure emerging from the woods.
Kerry thought that it was strange to see anyone out in the middle of nowhere. Yet someone or something walked onto the trail, pushing aside the deep snow like it was nothing. The shape was one color from head to foot: brown, like a chocolate Labrador Retriever.
Curious, Kerry slowed the snowmobile to figure out who—or what—he was looking at. He wondered if perhaps it was a lost hiker or snowshoer. But why would anyone be out here, walking through deep snow?
As he got closer, Kerry saw that the face was a lighter brown around the eyes, nose, and mouth. The figure was really tall—taller than anyone Kerry had ever seen.
His part of the trail was too narrow. Kerry couldn’t turn around without stopping his snowmobile and dragging it around to face the other direction. He had no choice but to stay his course.
Speeding closer and closer, he tried to think. He didn’t know what the creature was or what it might be capable of doing. He flipped on the headlight of the snowmobile, hoping to scare it enough that it might think twice about approaching. Turning its head in Kerry’s direction, the monster stopped and watched him for a moment. Then it crossed and disappeared into the woods again.
Shaking with fear, Kerry sped, full-throttle, all the way back into town—never again to return to that remote area of the woods.
To this day, he can’t say for sure what exactly the creature was—he never saw anything like it before or since. But no matter how he tries to rationalize his encounter or explain it away, he keeps coming back to one conclusion: He crossed paths with bigfoot.
