At this moment in time there are dire rumblings reverberating from inside the Bigfoot dimension of Cross Over. If you are at all attuned to the Sasquatch, just listen, you will hear the unease and feel the agitation. The Bigfoot’s tolerance of man’s relentless attacks on Planet Earth is reaching a breaking point. Geo engineering and genetic modification agendas, coupled with AI programs, has the Sasquatch mightily pissed. If I fell into the category of one of those blind science assholes, I’d stay clear of the Forest People.
Cross Over is book 2 in the Conversations With Sasquatch book series. It reveals hidden dimensions and supernatural powers the Bigfoot/Sasquatch use to remain elusive to even the most devoted and skilled Bigfoot hunters. Cross Over is book 2 in the Conversations With Sasquatch book series. All the books in my book series are a combination of fact and fiction, is based on my real life Bigfoot encounters.
I am the author of many Bigfoot/Sasquatch books and a lifelong experiencer committed to exploring the intersection of the physical and spiritual realms. Through my Conversations With Sasquatch series, I seek to spark thoughtful dialogue about hidden dimensions of reality and humanities’ evolving awareness.
As a result, I have written and published several books on the subject, including: Bigfoot Parchments.
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I have certainly had my share of close encounters of the third kind. Indeed, many people have, and the existence of portals to other dimensions is becoming more and more commonplace as a result. Nonetheless, the physical still remains the focus it when it comes to Bigfoot popularity. But, I am of a different ilk. For for example, the following poem came to me via a mind-speak conversation with a Sasquatch named Loquius, my Bigfoot Guardian.
Bigfoot Names
*
In the Temple of Years
each Bigfoot birth
has it’s stone,
a permanent marker
and symbolic role
measuring strength, wisdom
or capability. The stone
is intentionally placed
and named with prayer…
it bears the weight
of all eternity.
Richard Rensberry, Michigan Author of Conversations With Sasquatch “Cross Over”
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During my Bigfoot encounters I have grown more and more open and aware of their presence in our non physical realities. Since we are prone to dismiss these communications as imaginary, I have learned to trust and not shrug-off them off as figments of my imagination. Thus, even encounters with ghosts and other entities have become more prevalent. As a result, I expect the future has some more interesting experiences and hidden dimensions readily at hand.
MIGHTY SASQUATCH: THE BIGFOOT BLUEPRINT SERIES EXPLORES THE HIDDEN REALM OF SASQUATCH IN A GROUNDBREAKING COMPLETE SERIES COLLECTION
Richard Rensberry compiles his entire Conversations With Sasquatch saga into one immersive volume that challenges conventional understanding and invites readers into a mystical lifelong journey.
New York, NY, February 27, 2026 — In Bigfoot Blueprint: The Conversations With Sasquatch Book Series, author Richard Rensberry presents the complete four book series that chronicles his extraordinary journey into the mysterious world of Sasquatch. Bringing together The Encounter, Cross Over, The Awakening, and The Rising, this comprehensive edition offers readers a sweeping narrative that spans from a childhood experience to decades of spiritual discovery and exploration.
Rensberry’s story begins with what he describes as an innocent childhood encounter with Bigfoot, an event that would shape the course of his life. What started as curiosity soon evolved into a deeper quest for understanding. Over the years, that search unfolded into what he characterizes as ongoing communication and insight into beings he believes exist beyond conventional physical limitations. Bigfoot Blueprint traces that evolution in detail, inviting readers to walk alongside him as questions turn into revelations. Unlike traditional accounts that focus solely on sightings, footprints, or physical evidence, Bigfoot Blueprint approaches the Sasquatch phenomenon from a metaphysical and consciousness based perspective. Rensberry portrays these beings as interdimensional entities with intelligence, purpose, and a relationship to humanity that extends beyond folklore. Through reflective narrative and reported conversations, he explores who they are, why they remain elusive, and what their presence may signify for the future of Earth.
Central to the book are profound questions that have long surrounded the Sasquatch mystery. Why are they rarely seen yet consistently reported across cultures and generations? What are they doing here among humans? Are they guardians, observers, or participants in a larger cosmic design? Rensberry suggests that understanding Sasquatch may require humanity to expand its perception of reality itself.
Throughout the series, readers encounter themes of awakening, spiritual growth, environmental awareness, and the interconnectedness of all life. Rensberry proposes that the search for Sasquatch is not merely a search for a creature, but a search for deeper truth. His narrative blends memoir, philosophical reflection, and speculative insight, creating an immersive experience that challenges skepticism while respecting the reader’s discernment.
Richard Rensberry is an author and lifelong experiencer committed to exploring the intersection of the physical and spiritual realms. Through the Conversations With Sasquatch series, he seeks to spark thoughtful dialogue about hidden dimensions of reality and humanity’s evolving awareness.
Excerpt from Conversations With Sasquatch, The Encounter.
Chapter 2
Talking to a Sasquatch would probably qualify me as being a delusional schizophrenic or having some such mentally manufactured label from the Diagnostic Manual of Mental Disorders. Rest assured, I am more sane than the writers and creators of that psychiatric flap-trap. As a Sasquatch said in our first conversation a little over a week ago, “Humans are blind to the world of the Sasquatch.”
Exactly why I was chosen, I haven’t got a clue. All I know is that today I have an appointment to meet with him once again near that auspicious cedar ridge that runs along the banks of Big Creek, in Lewiston, Michigan.
I do not take this meeting lightly. The fear that was inexplicably absent during our first encounter is in full force as I lock my Mazda and begin my traipse into the greening woods.
As always, I find myself getting unwound and relaxed by the sanctuary of the forest. There is a lush carpet of fresh moss, wintergreen and huckleberry as I begin to cut a trajectory toward the ridge where I had previously shared mushrooms with a being that claimed to be immortal. As I walk, I am suddenly struck with the notion that Sasquatch might like a bag of fresh wintergreen. I, myself, love to chew on the minty leaves, which are cool and relaxing. I kneel down, pluck a new sprout and pop it into my mouth. I then gather a few handfuls of the dark green fingers and slip them into the small Ace Hardware bag I always carry for gathering purposes. I succinctly remember Sasquatch telling me that humans had once been much more attuned to the gathering of the medicinal and nutritional gifts of nature. Is it possible my penchant for such was what had drawn this Bigfoot to engage me?
I don’t know. There are doubts. I’m still feeling a bit dumbstruck and unbelieving. I have to work quite hard to suspend my recurring thoughts that Sasquatch was nothing more than a figment of my overactive imagination. Had I eaten (like some have suggested) the wrong mushroom by mistake? Was it possible I had simply hallucinated and manufactured my whole Sasquatch experience from the far reaches of a childhood memory?
Over the years, I must admit, I really hadn’t thought much about Sasquatch. I’ve had no particular reason to do so. I’m a busy person, both purposeful and happy. I think little of the past and focus on the present and the future.
As I continue my trek towards Big Creek, my childhood memory of Sasquatch floods back as if a dam has burst inside my head. I find myself emotionally present in the excitement of the time, the utter bug-eyed blinking and wiping of my eyes during those fateful moments I laid eyes on him bathing in the river near my fishing hole. I am overcome with a hot flash of perspiration. Adrenalin rushes and vibrates through my body as I re-experience running helter-skelter up the bank of the river to reach the deer camp where my father is playing poker and drinking whiskey with his pals.
I breathlessly arrive as Al Kaline is stepping up to the plate with runners on first and third in the top of the ninth in a tight game against the Minnesota Twins. My dad and his pals are glued to the tinny squawk of a small transistor radio, intently listening as Ernie Harwell sets the stage for the next pitch.
I shake my father’s arm violently to get his attention and shriek incoherently about the monster bathing in the river. My dad’s eyes blink rapidly as he slowly tries to bring me into focus. When he finally registers my presence, he frowns uncomprehendingly and remains as lethargic as a toad.
“Not now!” he grumbles.
I tug and push even harder, beseeching him to come and see the hairy man that looks bigger than a bear.
“Sorry guys,” he groans, “the young tyke is always dreaming up ghosts and things that go bump in the night.”
“No!” I exclaim, “He’s really there! He’s down by the river where the sunfish are!”
“Now son, go play. We’ll all be ready to leave in a few. Right now the Tiger’s are trying to beat the Twins. Let your dad finish his game.”
Forgotten and dismissed, I am overwhelmed by the force of his rejection and disbelief. Coming from my dad, it presses down hard on my young heart. He hadn’t even considered for a moment that what I had seen could possibly be true. I was just a kid with nothing better to do than make things up. And yes, I often did make things up, just not Sasquatch taking a bath in the river.
As I neared Big Creek I shook off the memory and began my gradual descent down the ridge toward our destined meeting spot. As I did so, the hackles on my neck suddenly stood straight up and goose flesh prickled down my arms and back. Once again, the woods fell eerily silent. All my senses snapped to the present and I reflexively reached for my absent Beretta which I had purposely left in the car.
A BIG SHOUTOUT TO EVERYONE THAT HAS DOWNLOADED THEIR FREE COPY OF MY CONVERSATIONS WITH SASQUATCH BOOK “THE ENCOUNTER”. The # of downloads thus far are closing in on 500 copies as of this morning. To anyone with an interest, I am still giving away the Kindle version through Christmas Day as a thank you gift to Bigfoot fans for the Holidays. It is free on Amazon at this link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08N1M6RYB
Merry Christmas to all my followers and readers. Today through December 25th, you can get my Conversations With Sasquatch, The Encounter eBook free from Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08N1M6RYB
This is book 1 in my Conversations With Sasquatch series. Please, I encourage you to take advantage of this Christmas special. Then upon reading my book, I also encourage you to leave a review. It will be very much appreciated. Being an Independent Author, this is the book avenue by which I survive. Thanks!
Excerpt from book 1 of the Conversations With Sasquatch, series The Encounter.
5 Chapter 5
On my return to Big Creek, I am aware of some recent activity by other humans. It is not only the physical signs, like the matted down grass and discarded cigarette butts, but also the remnants of their auras. People leave in their wake good or bad vibrations that can hang around and be felt from here to eternity unless cleansed from the emotionally disturbed space. What I am feeling at the moment is not good, and it isn’t long before I find a half dozen empty beer cans and several Twinkie wrappers scattered about.
I have never known beer and Twinkies to mix well with the forest. I am hoping it is just a sign of some rebellious teenagers getting away from the claustrophobic demands of their parents, and what I am seeing is discarded pieces of their rebellion and carelessness that have been shed like the skin of a snake.
My hopes get permanently dashed when I find more cigarette butts and a game camera locked in place to a small sapling of birch. There is a generous pile of untouched corn a few yards away from the lens that snaps my picture. I stick out my tongue and give it the finger.
Tecumseh would throw a fit if he saw this disrespectful approach to the fine art of hunting. I can literally hear one of his angry rants echoing through the forest as I decide what to do.
“They leave their ugly scent behind like mangy dogs that seem to have a purpose to piss on everything,” Tecumseh rails. “They are thankless of all but their own gratification. I weep when I think about how the ancestors of such vile men invaded our tee-pees with their spirits of evil. I pray our eternal wills continue to be reborn without such an abominable weakness for whiskey.”
I look around and heft a broken hardwood bow about the size and shape of a baseball bat. I contemplate and weigh it for my purpose. Knowing I have been captured on the camera, I have decided prudence would be my best course of action.
I wind up and take a healthy cut and catch the camera square in the face. It explodes into different pieces and is not easy to gather back together, but I find the photo chip and slip it into my pocket. The rest of the camera pieces and every other sign of human presence, I put in my gathering bag. All that is left is the cable and lock still wrapped around the birch. I apologize in the name of Tecumseh and cut the cable free.
I then backtrack and gather the beer cans and Twinkie wrappers, finger-rake the grasses back to standing the best I can, and collect all the cigarette butts. I am happily gratified to feel the forest rejoice.
With the area cleansed of trash and bad vibrations, I am able to return to contemplating my original purpose. I had been looking forward to another philosophical melding with my Bigfoot friend, Loquius.
I have been pondering, that if the Sasquatch are immortal beings that have roamed this planet since the beginning of time, then they have survived the endless disasters of climate change, including ice ages, volcanos, earthquakes, drought, famine, asteroids, and even pandemics.
Man is relatively new to the game, and what is most important in this age of narcissism, are the symbiotic relationships that have and can be further developed between man and nature; each one can enhance the other when common sense and basic ethics are applied to such things as forestry, farming, housing, and industry. Even cities can be redesigned with regenerative energy and agriculture in mind. Man is basically good and will strive for the greatest good for all concerned when he realizes that one lifetime is but a growing and cleansing journey for his immortal soul. To survive, you have to learn that you do not shit in the bed to which you must return.
I hope to garner much more insight into what answers Sasquatch might have to help the human race as it seemingly hurtles unawares towards oblivion.
As I trek, I am elated to have removed the footprints of the litterbugs and their bad vibes. The forest has returned to its harmonious songs within itself. I hear the distant drumming of a partridge, the chatter of squirrels, and the peeping of some snipes at the edge of a meadow filled with dancing grasses. A porcupine scuttles over a log, parks it itself in a defensive posture and raises its quills as I pass nearby.
The walk to meet Sasquatch is over two miles of ever changing terrain. The forest is rife with organic smells and subtle changes of temperature. I have come to recognize many sun dappled openings verdant with ferns as well as groves of various trees. I am traversing the edge of the hardwoods that are easier to navigate than the thick cedars, tag alders and small pines that thrive next to the creek.
It is on the ridge where the hardwoods turn to cedars that Sasquatch appears. I am immediately struck by the aggressiveness portrayed in his muscular stance. There is nothing soft or serene in his posture towards me. My first instinct is to cut and run, but I will myself to keep my poise and hold my ground.
He vocalizes an unearthly bugle of screeching sounds that all but rattle my bones. Instantly, there is movement to his right and another Sasquatch appears at his side.
Bigfoot told me we look comical with our noses glued to a phone, with our ears attached to CNN and NBC. They told me Hollywood actors have fangs and forked tongues, the Internet is an illusion on which fools will feed. They told me, so I am telling you, we look comical with our noses glued to a phone.
Richard Rensberry, Author of Conversations With Sasquatch, The Encounter eBook for free on Amazon for 5 days beginning 12/20 and lasting through 12/25. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
