Often seen, seldom proven Critters of the North Coast.

Picture stolen from "Smalfut" (get it?) they go on and on about copyrights and possible actor royalties. The picture is taken from the, now world famous, Patterson-Gimlin Film.

BigFoot!
Robin Shelly said...
I was told by a government hunter one time that there are wolverines in the Covelo area.

Old Man River said:
Well, I eat my entry on another thread. I did not see this little critter, but saw the darker version, the fisher...It was a little larger than a large otter, body a bit different, and the rear legs clearly designed more for land than water. Thanks for correcting my memory, and I look forward to telling my other witnesses that we blew the ID. Martens and fishers are very different.

"oldmanriver said...
Thanks for opening the can Ross.I elicited a Bigfoot story from a Piercy local in the 80's. Grizzled fellow who had his sighting between Piercy and the coast. If I can recollect without embellishing...the basic story was a nightime encounter with an unknown creature. The usually fearless dog is intimidated and won't go outside while somethin' big picked up a 50 gallon drum and repeatedly smashing it on a corrugated tin roof shed or animal pen(?). The clincher for me believing him was his description of the rank odor, something I have experienced more than once in my own suspicious encounters. That's another story or two.

Many people have heard stories, or have made honest mistakes about what they have seen here in the Eel River Valley. The thing that I like about having this blog is that I get to hear some of these stories. An honest person will have to agree that these stories are fascinating, even if you really don’t believe them. But, if enough people corroborate the story, you began to believe that they are real, and you must reevaluate your position. Telling these stories, and hearing them, is what I’ve come to call “bullshistory”. Or twice told tales, that are fun to tell whether you believe them or not. Any honest historian, or researcher, will tell you that they want to hear these stories, whether they are real or not, or if it was a case of mistaken identity, and that they add to the depth of their research.

When talking about Myth, Legend, and unusual sightings on the North Coast, Bigfoot will always come up. Before we go any farther here, I want to say that I do I do not believe in Bigfoot. Having said that, deep in my soul I know that there is a possibility that Bigfoot exists, and I would be overjoyed if one was positively identified. But, you are not going to get me to say that “I believe in Bigfoot.” I don’t want to join that most maligned group of North Coast Critters called: “The People That Believe in Bigfoot.” But I listen very intently to what people have to say when they say that they have seen Bigfoot. In the back of my mind I listen for that little tiny bit of evidence that says: “There, that proves it… there is a Bigfoot.”

Some people call Bigfoot “Sasquatch”. They say that is what the Indians called him. There has been so many legends and stories that Bigfoot has indeed become real in the minds of North Coasters. There is a division of science that the newcomers brought us. (They have to have a new name for everything, that’s the only way that they can feel smarter than us) The name for the study of Bigfoot is called “Cryptozoology”, formerly known as “Bullshistory”.

Bigfoot is reported to be a giant and up to ten feet tall. The most common tale about Bigfoot is that he stinks. I’ve not heard a good enough description of the stink to put it here, but maybe somebody feels up to describing it for us. Some say that he makes vocalizations. I’ve heard Mountain Lions and Badgers make noises that would scare the living crap out of you, and believe me they sound way bigger than they are.

Now, the people that know me, know that I’m a hopeless romantic, and I like to believe whatever anybody tells me. Well, I been told that I am a descendant of a great King of the British Isles Called “Bran The Blessed”. He was a giant, (I don’t know if he stunk) and he was big enough that he could wade the Irish Sea and move back and forth from Ireland to England. My name is "Branscomb. A "comb" or a "coombe" is a valley. “Bran” is a Welsh name for “Raven” so all of the ravens were named after Bran. Some say that he turned into a raven when he died. So I've been told that Branscomb means "From Brans Valley". All I know “for sure” is that Brans head is buried in White Mount in London, and there is a Castle there today with Royal Ravens that are protected by Her Majesty Elisabeth the Queen of England. "You could look it up". So, she believes the story, and I also really want to believe the story, In my heart I feel that it is real.

"Well now, you'll be amazed when I tell you that I'm sure that they exist... I've talked to so many Native Americans who all describe the same sounds, two who have seen them. I've probably got about, oh, thirty books that have come from different parts of the world, from China from, from all over the place...." Jane Goodall

Photo from anoymous taken in the Yollo Bolly's.