In the late 1960s and early 70s, the Pacific Northwest was abuzz with Bigfoot sightings and footprints. The existence of a sizeable, elusive primate surviving as a species seemed wildly improbable in our modern age, yet, reports continued to surface.
Native Americans told fearful stories of a big, hairy, wild man, who lived and survived in the rugged mountainous regions stretching from the Rockies across and down the western slopes of the Cascades. These stories were passed down orally from generation to generation. The indigenous people shared these stories with early explorers who ventured into the far west. These voyagers made note of the myths and legends in their journals and discussed them with fellow travelers. As time passed, the stories grew and ultimately this folklore became part of America’s written history.
Bigfoot is known by many names, the most common of these in the Northwest is Sasquatch. (Sasquatch is believed to be the Anglicization of the Salish word Sasq’ets, meaning “wild man” or “hairy man”). Regardless of what name is used, Bigfoot is recognized as a distant cousin of the legendary Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas, also known as Yeti.
Reported Bigfoot activity in The Dalles, Oregon was intense in the late 1960s and early ‘70s. Prominent and reliable citizens of the community reported firsthand accounts of the legendary creature’s existence right in our backyards. It was my good fortune to have been born and reared smack dab in the middle of the action.
Much of my childhood was spent exploring my surroundings in the dry climate of the eastern foothills of the Cascade Mountain Range. My family’s ranch was located at the confluence of Brown’s Creek and Chenowith Creek. It was there I satisfied my inquisitive nature through observing animal behaviors and learning to interpret my environment.
Mount Hood, the tallest peak in the Oregon segment of the seven-hundred-mile Cascade Range, lie twenty-four nautical miles to the west of The Dalles. The ranch set slightly closer to twenty miles distance. The driveway to our house was a mile-long dirt road in the basin of the canyon that ran parallel to Chenowith Creek. Lava crags and jagged outcroppings dotted the canyon walls. When the water table was high, breaks in the protruding lava formations would seep subterranean water and form springs. A great place to discovery wildlife tracks.
My playground was full of life and beauty. I hiked, explored, fished, and hunted the creek bottoms and hillsides through dense scrub oak, sparse tamarack, and ponderosa pine. Animal tracks were abundant if one took the time to look. The forested areas and mountain meadows at times taught me lessons of survival while other times was about peace and solitude.
During this time of adventure, I had no fear of the dark or concern that I would run into a shy, bipedal hominid. Bigfoot reports streamed in from around The Dalles area. In the summer of 1967 four people reported seeing a Bigfoot. Another four people reported a chance meeting with Bigfoot in 1968. On the outskirts of town, two more people described Bigfoot sightings in 1970. It appeared The Dalles area was a target rich environment for Bigfoot encounters and I hadn’t seen a thing.
In the early daylight hours of June 1, 1971, Joe Medeiros, a maintenance man at Pinewood Mobile Manor was outside the trailer park office watering flowers. Directly across the roadway was a fenced overgrown field hemmed in by a Basalt cliff that rose up thirty-plus feet with occasional breaks in the formation. On top of the crag was a natural meadow that climbed a treeless slope to the forested area high on the hill. This area was known as Crate’s Point after Edward Crate who built a cabin there in 1846. It was on the upper meadow of Crates Point that Medeiros caught a glimpse of something moving. He focused his attention on what had caught his eye, and at the distance of one hundred fifty yards, near the edge of the rocky crag, he saw a shaggy-haired, gray figure. He described the creature as at least ten-foot-tall, with an oval shaped face that was flat, brown, hairless, and a dorsal ridge. He did not report the incident at the time for fear of being labeled “a nut.”
The next day, June 2nd, Medeiros met with the three business owners of Pinewood Mobile Manor in the trailer court office. During the meeting, Medeiros caught a glimpse through the office window of movement in the upper meadow.
The four men went outside and watched an ape-like creature descend to the lower field through a break in the rocky outcropping. The four men continued to watch as the creature walked along the bottom of the cliff. The Bigfoot stopped for a minute and looked in the direction of the men before ascending through a break in the rock formation and into the upper meadow, finally vanishing from sight. This time it was reported to the Wasco County Sheriff’s Office. Responding Deputy Richard Carlson took the report that included Medeiros sighting from the day before and a physical description of the creature.
That evening at approximately 9:30 PM, Rich Brown, a high-school music teacher, and his wife were returning from a church choir practice when she pointed out a figure in the lower field. Rich pulled into the trailer park entrance and swung his car headlights around to get a better look at the creature. Another car pulled up and shined its lights in the same direction. Medeiros saw the vehicles blocking the entrance and went to investigate.
The animal was closer this time. Brown estimated the distance at 65 yards away. Brown ran to his trailer and returned with a rifle mounted with a scope. Brown said he was ready to pull the trigger but couldn’t bring himself to shoot it. The story splashed across the news statewide.
In 1971, I was a fourth-year journalism student and editor of our weekly publication at Wahtonka High School in The Dalles. The flurry of Bigfoot sightings raised the stories profile and brought considerable attention to our area in the form of media coverage and “boots on the ground” Bigfoot hunters. As a journalist and representative of our high school, I was invited to participate in a question and answer forum held in The Dalles with Rich Brown, now of Crate’s Point fame. I tape recorded the hour-long session and later wrote a small piece for the school newspaper.
I received a phone call in November of 1971. On the line was an unfamiliar voice with a British accent, asking for me by name. He introduced himself as Peter Byrne, executive director, International Wildlife Conservation Society. Peter had learned of my interview with Rich Brown and wanted to ask a few questions. I answered his questions from what I could remember off the top of my head, but Mr. Byrne’s questions were looking for details, and my impression of Brown. Mr. Byrne related that he too had previously interviewed Brown and was investigating the sighting. I mentioned I had the recording of Brown’s interview and I’d be happy to share it with him. He responded with delight, and we planned to meet at Goldies Café, a local greasy spoon that truckers appeared to enjoy.
I arrived early for the meeting and secured an end booth where we were less likely to be bothered by other diners. I did not intend to get wrapped up in hunting Bigfoot nor was I aware that there were legitimate Bigfoot hunters. My assessment of the rabble of Bigfoot hunters that managed to get their names in the local newspaper were nothing more than grown men chasing tall tales. I wasn’t at Goldies Café to get recognized and have my name in the spotlight, I was there to pass off the interview cassette to Mr. Byrne and perhaps chat as time allowed.
Goldies Café was packed that evening. With all the people coming and going I was concerned whether I would be able to pick him out of the crowd. However, when a man in his fifties entered the café wearing an ascot, beige safari vest, with matching safari hat, I reasonably assumed it was Peter Byrne. The man at the entrance scanned the diner from left to right until his eyes met with mine. I lifted my hand and gestured for him to join me.
After a quick introduction, I went over the material I had collected at the Brown interview and passed it to Mr. Byrne. I was curious why he had taken up Bigfoot hunting. He answered with his experiences and years as a professional big game hunter turned conservationist and stated that he’d established a Bengal tiger sanctuary in Nepal. He also said he’d applied his trade as a guide and led expeditions in the Himalayas in search of the Yeti.
Before we ended our meeting, Peter mentioned his intention to relocate his base camp from Evans, Washington, that was near the Canadian border, to The Dalles. With the habitat area extending from Canada to Northern California, Oregon would be centrally located, allowing a quicker response to footprints and sightings.
A few weeks passed before I heard from Peter. He called and invited me to meet with him at the Pinewood Mobile Manor. With all the prior Bigfoot activity it made sense that he should rent a trailer house in the park. I was very much wrong. I arrived at the Crates Point trailer court and parked next to a white International Scout. Mr. Byrne stepped out of the Scout as I exited my Ford pickup. “Do you know where the area is that Mr. Brown saw the Bigfoot?” He asked.
“No, I only interviewed him.”
Mr. Byrne pointed across the road and motioned for me to follow. The meadow was fenced with strands of barbed wire that we maneuvered through and made our way across the lower field to a large oak tree. Peter pointed to a thick branch, “Here, Mr. Brown said his head was the height of this branch.”
I stood under the bough and lifted my hand as high as I could reach. There was no doubt the limb measured ten-feet from the ground. If I was standing where the creature stood, directly underneath the Oak branch, I would concede the estimated height. But, if the Bigfoot was a few feet back from the tree, it would likely be shorter due to the rise of the slope the tree was on. Given that it was dusk, and they were relying on vehicle headlights to observe the Bigfoot, coupled with Brown’s estimation of 65 yards from the trailer court entrance to the tree, the accuracy of his sighting was potentially flawed. The height of the creature might have been shorter.
Mr. Byrne and I discussed the Crates Point sighting at length, and somewhere in the conversation, he brought up he was looking for volunteers to assist in an observation of Crate’s Point during the spring and early summer. He had received permission to set up an observation area on Table Mountain which overlooked the canyon that led to Crates Point and to the Columbia River. Speculation at the time was that Crate’s Point offered a location for the creature to cross the river at a narrow point where Rocky Island and Squaw Islands broke up the span. Additionally, there might be travel involved to investigate other area sightings. I volunteered for the sake of the adventure. It wasn’t every day an opportunity came along to hunt Bigfoot.
Dennis Jensen, an associate member of the team, was a true woodsman and tracker with a background from the Bitterroot Range of the Rocky Mountains. Peter had assembled volunteers into a network comprised of reputable scientists, Wasco County Sheriff’s Deputies Rich Carlson and Jack Robertson, and local assistance from Jim Day and Darrell Buckles.
It was clear from my conversation with Peter that the International Wildlife Conservation Society’s interest was a quest for truth. Bankrolled by a four-member Board of Directors (IWCS) and the Boston Academy of Applied Sciences, all reports would be investigated, claimants interviewed, and determine if the sightings and footprints were fabricated or credible. It wasn’t our job to be a believer, but a fact-finder.
