Three Nearby Bigfoot and One in Lulu

What's bettter, friend? For me, it is a bigfoot story from a Gregg Roberts in Alachua County, Florida. I ran into him at the Bargain Barn in Worthington Springs and asked him if he had ever seen one. "No," he replied, "But my uncle who is about fifty swears he saw one when he was a boy. He was riding his bike and saw one dash across the road on the east side of the bridge over the New River on County Road 18 at Worthington Springs. He put his bike down and ran home.
His parents said it was a bear and made him go back and get his bike." Even if it were a bear, I would have accompanied my son back to the bike. This joins two other stories of Bigfoot in Worthington Springs that I have discussed in my Bigfoot blog which I will be closing to coalesce into this blog. The first one came from a young man in his twenties at the S&S store in Worthington Springs who told me his father swears that while he was on the Santa Fe River Bridge on State Road 121 in Worthington Springs, he saw a Bigfoot swimming in the river. About two hundred yards east of the bridge begins a very thick, confusing area called Thousand Runs.
There are many little creeks there that function as the Santa Fe River. When there is a lot of rain, they coalesce into one big river. There is bottomless mud in there, and people have been lost for a week in the swamp. This could possibly hold a Bigfoot.
The other story comes from an area just downstream - to the west - of the Santa Re River Bridge and was told to me by Wayne Cox, owner of C&S Sports in Lake Butler. Wayne is a five time State of Florida turkey calling champion, and he swears this is a true story too: "It was back in the eighties, and two friends and I had a few days off from school so we were going down to a lease my family had on the Sante Fe River to do some fishing. We had all our gear in my pickup truck. It had been raining recently, and the road was muddy so we parked the pickup and decided to walk down to the river to see how high it was. When we got back to the truck, we found these big feet, about 15 inchess long, coming onto the muddy road, walking over to the bed of the truck, and stepping directly into the bed from the road. He didn't use the bumper so you know he was tall to do that. He took only food out of the cooler, no gear. It scared us enough that we gave up our camping and fishing trip and went home. I only told my dad, and that was it."
The last local sighting I can think of came from Lulu, Florida, ten miles from Lake Butler where I am writing this and is on State Road 100. The hunter told me, "I was hunting with a buddy in some really thick stuff. We heard this growling and smelled something awful. All we had were muzzle-loaders. I told him, "Let's get out of here. He didn't object either." We left."
I regret that I didn't get everyone's name for these stories. I'm a slow study, but now I am much better at remembering to ask people.
May both of us walk The Path Of Love the best we can until we meet again. Two-Guns at peternickerson12@yahoo.com.