Bigfoot Backpacking Bonanza Read online

  Begin Reading

  Table of Contents

  Newsletters

  Copyright Page

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  This book is for Morgan

  Special thanks to:

  Ashley & Carolyn Grayson, Suppasak Viboonlarp, Mark Mayes, Jim Jeong, Joe Kocian, Hiland Hall, Steve Deline, Inge, Alejandra, Beth & Laura at B&N, Dav Pilkey, Jackie Greed, and the mezz crew–Woo Woo!

  Andrea, Jill, Sangeeta, Saho, Alison, Elizabeth, Tina, and the Little, Brown crew–hooray!

  And a super deep-dish thanks with extra cheese to Diane and Corey Scroggs and Harold and Betty Aulds.

  CHAPTER 1

  This Spud’s for You

  We interrupt this broadcast for an emergency news flash. Criminal mastermind Hans Lotion and his grandson, Jurgen, have escaped from their maximum security facility. Hans is a master of explosives and funny accents and is extremely dangerous. If you spot these two, contact the police, alert the media, or just wave your hands in the air and scream like a stuck pig!

  We now return to

  Terminator 7:

  Cyborgs In Love…

  No, wait! That’s not a killer cyborg.

  That’s Mr. Gorden Maximus, owner of the biggest shoe store in town and Scoutleader of the Spudscouts of America.

  “Only a few lucky elite can become a Spudscout!” barked Spudmaster Maximus. “It takes nerves of steel, a perfect physique, like mine, and a real smart brain.”

  “Now, what makes you two puny maggots think you’ve got what it takes to be Spudscouts?”

  Those two puny maggots he was referring to were me, Wiley, and my best friend, Jubal. This was our fifth time trying out for Spudscouts, and it promised to be as humiliating as ever.

  We were put through a serious of rigorous tests. First, we were forced to do pull-ups over a batch of dangerous insects.

  Then came the exhausting swimming competition,

  followed by a dangerous crawl through barbed-wire and muck, under scorching flames…

  and topped off with an unbearable jalapeño-eating contest.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Long Walk of Shame

  “I’m glad—I mean, sad—to say that for the fifth time, you two have failed to meet our standards,” said Maximus. “But don’t let this get you down. You can now proudly return to your daffodil garden on Wimp Island.”

  The creepy Spudscouts chuckled as we walked away.

  “That does it,” said Jubal. “Remind me not to invite these guys to my next birthday party.”

  Grampa tried to cheer us up later that night. “Hey boys!” said Grampa. “You’re just in time for N.Y.P.D.—Sasquatch Division.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “The thrill of watching a Sasquatch breaking bones is gone.”

  Gramma tried to cheer us up, too. “Boys, I made you a triple-decker chocolate brownie super sundae with a real working fountain of hot fudge.”

  “Sorry, Gramma,” I said. “Not even a river of hot fudge could overcome the humiliation we’re feeling right now.”

  “Uh, I’d be willing to give it a try,” said Jubal.

  Since we didn’t make Spudscouts, we settled for a crummy overnight campout in my tree house.

  “Don’t worry, boys,” said Grampa, from below. “Winning isn’t everything. The embarrassment and feelings of utter worthlessness will go away. It might take weeks, months, even years, but they’ll go away. Now have a good night.”

  “Well, Jubal,” I said, “at least you were there to fail more miserably than I did. I can always count on you.”

  “Hey, anytime, buddy,” said Jubal.

  Soon, we drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 3

  Packed with Excitement

  We were awakened bright and early by a loud whistle and an even louder Grampa: “Rise and shine, sleepyheads! Up and at ’em! You’ve got gear to pack!”

  “What kind of gear?” I asked.

  “Camping gear, my friend. We don’t need no stinkin’ Spudscouts to rough it in the wilderness. I’ll drag you through the woods myself.”

  So we packed up all the necessities and Merle, the cat, and took off on a grand adventure.

  “Hold on to your drawers, gang,” said Grampa. “We’re on our way to the most rugged and dangerous spot in all of Texas.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Rock Bottom

  Gingham County State Park, home of the notorious Bigfoot and Texas’ most famous rock formation… the Devil’s Rump.

  “The path up the Devil’s Rump is extremely dangerous!” said Grampa. “Beware of large cracks, gusty winds, and dangerous mud slides!”

  First, we had to set up camp. Grampa showed me how to start a fire with two stones.

  Then we put up our tents.

  Merle caught dinner in a nearby stream.

  And Gramma made a working microwave out of twigs and tree bark.

  That night, over a roaring campfire, I entertained everyone with horrifying stories of lunatic summer camp counselors with hockey masks and hooks for hands. But it was Gramma who told the scariest story of all: “Tomorrow night I’m going to cook you my world-famous turnip and cottage cheese casserole.”

  “Like I said, boys,” said Grampa, “we’re really roughing it out here.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Grampa’s Survival Guide

  The next day, we set off on our hiking adventure.

  “Before we enter the woods,” said Grampa, “remember the four R’s of the wild: Rattlesnakes, Rats, and Rabid Raccoons. The woods are full of ’em. Now let’s go have a good time.”

  It was a morning full of adventure. We crossed raging rivers, scaled steep cliffs…

  slid down slippery slopes, hacked through thick vegetation, even did a little disco dancing. Everything was going great.

  That is, until we fell face-first into a huge, weirdly shaped hole. But wait! That wasn’t a hole—it was a gigantic footprint.

  “This must be the footprint of the notorious Bigfoot!” said Grampa.

  “How can you be sure?” I asked.

  “Just look at this giant toenail clipping and that huge bottle of sparkly toenail polish.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Grampa’s Flashback Crunch

  “This giant, crusty toenail clipping reminds me of the time I met Bigfoot,” said Grampa.

  “I was fresh out of the third grade, devastatingly handsome and looking for excitement. Boys my age across the country were joining the Spudscouts, so I did, too.

  “One weekend we were challenged by our rivals, the Beansprouts, a mean and ugly bunch of brutes. Our challenge was simple. The first team to reach the top of the Devil’s Rump and plant their flag would win the Silver Spud medal.

  “Turned out the challenge was tougher than we thought. We waded through snake-infested rivers.

  “We dodged enemy smoke bombs and water balloons as we crawled through the mud.

  “We swam through murky swamp water.

  “At night it would rain for hours and I would sit in my tent and write home to my folks or type in my blog.

  “Then we reached the summit. While my men covered me with slingshot fire, I stormed the Devil’s Rump with my flag in hand.

  “But before I could reach the top, a huge bear jumped out to attack me!”

  “We
don’t have bears in Texas,” I interrupted.

  “I know,” said Grampa. “This was an escaped bear from the traveling Bavarian Circus—the most vicious kind of bear in the world, other than pandas, of course.

  “Luckily, before the bear could snack on me, an even bigger creature jumped out of the woods! He was enormous and hairier than your Uncle Willie’s lower back!

  “The monster lifted up his enormous foot—this thing would have worn at least a size 62 shoe—and he brought it down on us. I managed to jump out of the way to safety.

  “Then I ran, shrieking, all the way home. I lost my chance to win that Silver Spud Medal.”

  “What happened to the bear?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t want to get too gross,” said Grampa, “but when Bigfoot lifted his foot, that bear looked like raspberry jelly mixed with tapioca pudding… with little clumps of hair and crunchy bony bits—”

  “Okay!” said Gramma. “I think we get the point.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Let’s Get Hairy

  “Look at these enormous prints where Bigfoot sat on this rock!” said Jubal. “He must have an enormous—”

  But Jubal’s theory was cut short when Bigfoot himself jumped out of the forest! He was huge and hairy and had a shaggy skater-dude haircut.

  “Don’t worry!” yelled Grampa. “I’ll lead you to safety. Just jump off this cliff into that raging river and everything will be okay!”

  Luckily, Gramma served as a flotation device, so we all grabbed onto her and rode the rapids, leaving Bigfoot far behind.

  “Look!” yelled Grampa. “This river rides right up the Devil’s Rump!”

  We lost all of our gear in the raging rapids and, to make things worse, we were headed straight for a huge waterfall. Certain doom and a whole lotta water awaited us.

  “Well, this is it, gang!” said Grampa. “At least we were spared the turnip and cottage cheese casserole.”

  But, lucky for us, Spudmaster Maximus and his spooky Spudscouts were waiting at the bottom of the falls with a giant net.

  “It’s a good thing we’ve been monitoring your progress!” screamed Maximus. “Only experienced woodsmen or complete numbskulls should be in this area!”

  CHAPTER 8

  Club Dread

  Maximus took us to his camp. “Welcome to Camp Hack ’n’ Slash,” said Maximus. “We just built it last night. We still have to put in plumbing and high-speed Internet.”

  The Spudscouts treated Gramma with extra care.

  “I feel like the Queen of Sheba!” said Gramma.

  “I don’t trust these creeps,” I whispered to Jubal.

  “Me neither,” said Jubal. “Just yesterday, that guy was shooting a flamethrower at us.”

  That night, the Spudscouts treated us to dinner.

  “Tonight’s menu is very special,” said Maximus. “Tangy squirrel kabobs, roasted until they are slightly pink, with a side of chilled grub worms in a creamy mint sauce.”

  “Hey, as long as there’s no mayonnaise on it,” I said. I was pretty hungry.

  We got our own luxury quarters for the night, while Gramma got a different cabin, but something just seemed fishy.

  “Grampa, I don’t trust Spudmaster Maximus.”

  “I don’t know,” said Grampa. “He seems nice… in an Attila the Hun kinda way.”

  Suddenly we heard a loud scream from outside. It was Gramma! I tried to leave the room, but the door and all of the windows were barred shut.

  “They’ve locked us in!” I yelled. “And they’ve taken Gramma!”

  “Rats!” said Grampa. “I was just starting to get comfortable.”

  CHAPTER 9

  It’s All Gone Kong

  Gramma was tied to two posts over a cliff.

  “Sorry, guys,” said Spudmaster Maximus. “I need to borrow your beloved Gramma. I’m going to use her as bait to lure in the notorious Bigfoot. What hairy beast can resist a damsel in distress?”

  “Then we’ll shoot Bigfoot with this giant tranquilizer dart. I’m gonna make that big guy the spokesman for my new shoe store, Heel of the Century Shoe Megaplex.

  “People will travel from all corners of the globe and Idaho to see the giant feet of Bigfoot—and buy some cute leather tennis shoes with baby blue trim while they’re at it.”

  To get Bigfoot’s attention, the Spudscouts performed a loud ritual with bongos, gongs, and bagpipes.

  “Wow!” said Grampa. “Not only are these Spudscouts crazed criminals, but they’re talented musicians as well.”

  But Merle wasn’t having any of it. He picked the lock on our door with his pinky claw and freed us.

  “I didn’t know Merle could pick locks,” I said.

  “Sure!” said Grampa. “He used to be a cat burglar.”

  Then Merle headed toward Gramma, silently swimming through a murky pond.

  He swung through the trees above the Spudscouts like a super feline ninja.

  Then he used his master disguise talents to slip right by the Spudscouts unnoticed!

  Merle leaped onto one of the poles and started to chew through Gramma’s ropes. But it was too late! Bigfoot burst out of the trees and headed toward them.

  “Gnaw faster, Merle!” yelled Gramma. “Gnaw like you’ve never gnawed before!”

  “There he is!” yelled Spudmaster Maximus. “Fire the Snooze Missile!”

  The giant dart launched into the air like a giant torpedo.

  But Bigfoot just swiped it away like a pesky mosquito, and it veered off course.

  Bigfoot reached toward Gramma… and grabbed Merle instead! The furry beast turned and ran off with Merle.

  “I guess Bigfoot’s more of a cat person,” said Jubal.

  CHAPTER 10

  Kickin’ into Gears

  The Spudscouts, angry that we had messed up their plans, came after us.

  “Let’s turn these Spuds into mashed potatoes!” I yelled as I gave one of the attacking scouts a swift roundhouse kick. To my surprise, his head flew off and out popped nuts and bolts and some AAA batteries!

  “Hey!” I yelled. “These Spudscouts aren’t even real!”

  “That’s right,” said Maximus as he pulled out a remote control. “I’ve constructed an entire robot Spud troop out of old computer parts and used blenders, which means they’re highly intelligent and can make a mean mango smoothie. Now, prepare to meet the fury of the Robo Spuds!”

  The Robo Spuds first attacked by forming a Whirling Spudball of Doom.

  But Jubal and I deflected it with our own world-famous Human Twirly Bird Maneuver.

  Next, the Robo Spuds attacked in a high-kickin’ line-dance formation, singing selected songs from Annie, the musical.

  But Gramma and I took care of them. “Now, normally I don’t support using martial arts on eight-year-olds, but since these are robots, I guess it’s okay!”

  But there were too many of those darn Robo Spuds. We were surrounded.

  “Resistance is futile!” said Maximus. “My highly trained Robo Spuds will attack you like a school of killer piranha!”

  “Ha!” I yelled. “They obviously haven’t seen the smoking karate skills of my Grampa! Hey! Where is Grampa, anyway?”

  Grampa was napping.

  “I was wondering what happened to my giant tranquilizer dart,” said Maximus.

  CHAPTER 11

  Call of the Wild

  “Let’s face it,” said Maximus. “You’re trapped like poor, defenseless animals.”

  “Animals!” said Gramma. “That gives me an idea.”

  Now, anyone who lives in Gingham County knows that Gramma is a champion hog caller. She’s won the annual hog-callin’ competition for five years straight.

  Gramma let out the mother of all hog calls. It sounded like a yodeling hippopotamus being hit by a steam engine!

  Suddenly, all the critters of the forest came to our rescue! Spudmaster Maximus and his Robo Spuds were attacked by squirrels, rats, birds, and Peruvian pygmy bats.
/>   “It’s lucky for you that I’m terrified of small birds and mammals!” yelled Maximus as he ran for the hills. “You haven’t seen the last of me!”