Brake for Bigfoot beefcake on Highway 20 near Deception Pass

Published 6:00 am Thursday, June 18, 2026

OAK HARBOR — The hunky dude stood along Highway 20 near Deception Pass State Park, flexing a chiseled physique and the kind of confidence that comes from being 12 feet tall.

What’s up with that?

It was a big buff Bigfoot.

“Stop the car!” I demanded of my husband, who has spent years trying to convince me Bigfoot is real.

Since May, the chainsaw-carved wooden giant has lured curious travelers in search of selfies and souvenirs into Squatchy’s gift shop.

The Bigfoot had the biggest feet I’ve ever seen, which at least confirms the branding is honest. Everything else is up for debate.

It took seven people to hoist the 2,000-pound statue into position, said store co-owner Scott Meaker. Carved from a massive cedar log, the figure was assembled with separate arms to give Bigfoot an action-hero stance.

He’s the new cryptid on the block.

The roadside post previously belonged to a 9-foot furry Sasquatch whose hair fell victim to nesting birds and too much sun.

“He was getting pretty blond on top,” Meaker said.

To keep him looking Bigfoot-handsome, he was moved inside after one season.

Business dipped.

Turns out when Bigfoot leaves the front lawn, so do the customers. A Bigfoot shop needs a Bigfoot out front.

So Meaker went bigger, bolder and bald with Cedar Squatchy, as he’s known around the shop.

Two Bigfoots are better than one.

Cedar Squatchy works roadside, flagging down passing motorists. Shaggy Squatchy handles customer service inside.

Bigfoot is a cryptid, a creature largely reported through folklore and eyewitness accounts rather than scientific evidence.

Roughly 1 in 4 Americans polled believe in Bigfoot.

Probably 3 out of 4 readers will think this column is ridiculous.

Meaker, 63, said he saw a real Bigfoot while hiking in Yosemite National Park with his cousin in the late 1970s. He was 17 when they spotted what he describes as a large, hairy creature striding across a valley on two legs.

“It was at least 9 feet tall, brown from head to toe,” he said. “It was moving at tremendous speed with a long stride. It was a sunny day. We could see it very clearly. There is no way it was someone wearing an outfit.”

When he opened Squatchy’s three years ago, he turned to a taxidermist to recreate what he saw.

“I asked if he could make a 9-foot Bigfoot,” Meaker said.

The taxidermist didn’t blink.

“Of course,” he said. “You have a Bigfoot, right?”

Well… not exactly.

“But I know what he looks like,” Meaker told him.

The stuffed Bigfoot was a mashup of leftover bear pelts for fur and a mask crafted by an artist in Brazil. The wild hairdo stuck straight up, like Kramer from “Seinfeld.”

The furry Sasquatch reigned outside the shop until the sun began fading him from a mysterious forest creature to an aging beach blond.

Then came the birds.

“They were stealing his hair for nesting material and making a mess of it,” Meaker said.

Visitors were also suspected of plucking tufts of hair to take home as Sasquatch souvenirs.

Despite losing his outdoor post to the new Squatch stud, the old guy remains the crowd favorite.

“The original still wins,” Meaker said. “He looks real. Kids see him and think somebody actually found a Sasquatch.”

Hence the “Do Not Touch” sign. According to another sign, he’s also Employee of the Month. Again. And again.

Meaker describes himself as a skeptic.

“I’m not a conspiratorial person. I’m not given to mysticism at all. I graduated magna cum laude from the science program at Western,” he said.

Bigfoot fits those parameters.

“They are smart, private creatures and obviously know where we live and how to stay minimally detected,” he said. “It might be less scientific to dismiss it than to accept there is a significant possibility they exist.”

He notes Indigenous cultures worldwide have long described similar beings.

As for what he witnessed with his cousin in Yosemite all those years ago, Meaker remains certain.

“I trust my eyes,” he said.

My husband has yet to spot an actual Sasquatch, but he’s well equipped for the encounter. He has three Bigfoot shirts, a hat, a blanket, a bendable figure, a keychain and a pot holder.

Even so, the store made a convincing case that his collection still had room to grow.

Shelves are stocked with Bigfoot stickers, socks, shirts and even Sasquatch scat (try saying that three times), along with saltwater taffy, local art, jewelry, jerky, knives and camping supplies.

A star attraction is a robot cotton-candy machine that blasts cheerful music while spinning carnival-sized clouds of pink sugar fluff for just $1.

For real.

That’s almost as hard to believe as Bigfoot.

That deal alone is worth the trip. Meaker compares it to Costco’s $1.50 hot dog.

I brought a gaggle of grandkids and spent less on treats and trinkets than I usually do at the dollar store. The lodge-style building has an upstairs kid zone with couches, cornhole and a microwave for Hot Pockets.

Between the cedar Sasquatch outside, the furry one inside and the singing cotton-candy robot in the corner, Squatchy’s proves one thing: you don’t have to believe in Bigfoot to have a Bigfoot experience.

My husband and grandkids are already begging to go back.

Squatchy’s is closed Sunday and Wednesday.

The chiseled hunk out front, however, is available 24/7.

Got a story for “What’s Up With That?” Hit me up at reporterbrown@gmail.com or 425-422-7598.