Summer was in full swing in the 7 Mountains. The trees were thick with green, insects buzzed through the wildflowers, and the forest air was warm and heavy with the scent of pine and berries. But something was changing. The sun dipped a little earlier each night. The evenings were getting a bit cooler. The birds had begun to sing different songs. The forest was preparing for fall.

Baby Bigfoot was especially busy. He helped his squirrel friends collect acorns, the beavers patch their dams, and the raccoons check their winter hideouts. He gathered twigs for winter shelter, and berries for storing. Still, even with all the work to do, B.B. felt restless. 

Then one breezy August afternoon, as he paused by the creek to cool his furry toes, a strange scent drifted through the trees—it was sweet and smoky, like fried dough in the wind. He paused with curiosity. Then he heard it: music. Laughter. A far-off ding!… like a bell trying to get his attention.

B.B. stood up tall. “What is THAT?”

And before anyone could stop him, he was off—bounding through the trees toward the sound, following his nose and his very big feet toward something completely new. As he reached the far edge of the forest, the trees opened wide—and before him was a world he had never seen.

A village of tents. A sea of campers. Rides, lights, flags, people! It was the Centre County Grange Encampment and Fair. B.B. bristled with excitement. Another adventure had officially begun.

The fair buzzed with energy. Every direction held something new. He first wandered into the barns at the edge of the fairgrounds, where he met goats, sheep, horses and one very grumpy pig. A baby chick flew up and began to ride on his shoulder like it had always belonged there. The visit reminded him of his afternoons hanging out with his various forest friends. He waved goodbye and began to venture deeper into the fair. 

Soon, another sign caught B.B,’s eyes. Tents. So many of them. The tents were extra fancy, with soft rugs, twinkle lights, and even mini chandeliers. He had seen tents and campers in the forest before, but never so many in one place. A nearby sign read: “Glamping Village.” A friendly couple invited him to check out their tent. “Ooooh, faaaancy,” B.B. thought to himself, peeking inside. It had fuzzy blankets, cold lemonade, and a mini fan. He flopped onto a beanbag chair with a content sigh. “I could get used to this.” As nice as the tents were, B.B. knew it was nothing compared to his nights sleeping under the stars. 

Suddenly, more new sounds caught his attention. Music. Horns. Drums. Sirens. People lined the streets of the fair as far as he could see. The Grange Fair Parade was underway—marching bands, floats, fire trucks. A girl in a glittering crown waved at him. “Look, it’s a real baby bigfoot,” she said…waving at him briskly. “Hi, I’m the Grange Fair Queen!” B.B. wave back with excitement. He soon found himself dancing alongside the parade, waving his furry arms to the music. One of the majorettes tossed a shiny baton high into the air—twirl, twirl, catch! B.B. clapped and cheered, forgetting he was the size of a small bear. The ground trembled slightly, and nearby cows mooed in surprise.

Then it happened again. Sniff…sniff—that smell he caught in the forest came back stronger than ever. B.B. found himself standing in front of a sizzling food stand labeled “Chicken on a Stick!” After all of the day’s excitement, he had worked up quite the appetite. He ordered one (okay, maybe two), munching happily as he wandered past the pierogi truck. Steam puffed from the little pillows of dough like magic clouds. He ate six dumplings, then followed a trail of powdered sugar to a funnel cake booth. His eyes grew wide as a plate the size of a wagon wheel was handed to him, covered in crispy swirls and sweet powdered snow. “It doesn’t taste like this in the forest,” he thought to himself as he cleaned up the sugar that was all over his chin and waddled onward. 

B.B. made his way over to the game booths. Kids were tossing rings, shooting water at targets, and trying to win giant stuffed animals. One game involved popping balloons with darts. B.B.’s big paws were too clumsy for darts, but he gave it a try. POP! POP! POP! — he accidentally popped three balloons at once! “You win!” the booth attendant cheered, handing him a massive, fuzzy goat. B.B. hugged it tight and named it “Jerry,” He then began tossing rings (and missed). He threw beanbags and accidentally hit a human standing nearby. But then—ping!—a ball landed in a tiny bowl of water. He’d won a goldfish. B.B. put his paw out and respectfully declined the prize, as he knew the fish wouldn’t survive the harsh winters in his forest home. 

As the afternoon grew warmer, B.B. began going in and out of the vendor buildings, checking out all the gadgets that humans buy. Toy tractors. Tupperware. Sports memorabilia. One vendor in particular caught his eye: Centre Boot Company. He tried on various pairs of brown cowboy boots, at least the ones that would fit him, and also found a perfect matching hat. B.B. was now living his best life in his cool new outfit. “Now, you’re really rodeo-ready,” said Anne, the store owner. B.B. soon ventured over to the arena, where he watched cowboys ride bulls and horses and ropes went flying through the air. He didn’t understand how they stayed on the bulls, but he cheered anyway—loudly, as a large smile stretched across his face. 

As evening set in, the sound of loud music soon began to pierce the fairgrounds. The crowed had made its way over the Grandstand Stage, where a country concert was in full swing. B.B. didn’t really know the words to the songs, but he danced anyway—fluffy feet tapping, arms swinging like tree branches in a storm. He was loving the concert…and the crowd, they were loving him! No one had ever really seen a baby bigfoot, let alone a dancing one. 

AS the concert was winding down, night was beginning to fall. The Grange Fair lit up like a thousand fireflies. B.B. soon spotted the Ferris wheel shining tall and bright in the night sky. Glowing. Spinning. Whispering his name. He climbed aboard and held his breath as the seat rose gently into the air. From the very top, he could see everything—the tents, the barns, the glowing booths, the starry sky… and way off in the distance, the edge of his forest home. B.B. felt a warm, peaceful relaxation set in. This was what adventure felt like.

When the ride came to an end, B.B. stepped off with balloons in one paw, Jerry the fuzzy goat in the other, and a big bag of kettle corn slung over his shoulder for all of his forest friends. His new boots clicked quietly as he walked. B.B. paused at the edge of the trees, looked back at the fair one last time, and smiled. Then he disappeared into the woods, heart full, belly happy, and mind spinning with memories.

That night, under a sky full of stars, B.B. curled up in a bed of soft moss, sharing his kettle corn with raccoons and recounting every detail to the owls. And just before drifting off to sleep, B.B.’s mind wondered yet again. “I wonder where I’ll go next.”