{"id":1588,"date":"2026-11-01T00:06:25","date_gmt":"2026-11-01T00:06:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/?p=1588"},"modified":"2026-11-01T00:06:25","modified_gmt":"2026-11-01T00:06:25","slug":"in-the-shadow-of-mount-adams-inside-the-pacific-northwest-bigfoot-search-and-the-search-for-more-than-a-legend","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/?p=1588","title":{"rendered":"In the Shadow of Mount Adams: Inside the Pacific Northwest Bigfoot Search and the Search for More Than a Legend"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Emily Halnon<\/strong>
\nPublished October 31, 2026<\/em><\/p>\n

The forest sounds empty, but the silence is deceiving. Earlier in the day, walking along a remote lakeshore deep within Washington\u2019s Gifford Pinchot National Forest, the signs of local wildlife were unmistakable: fresh hoof prints pressed into the damp soil, a sharp cougar track, and scattered coyote scat. <\/p>\n

As night falls, the trees turn black beneath a heavy sky, illuminated only by a full moon creeping through the cloud cover. The atmosphere is so profound and quiet that a traveler can hear the steady thrum of their own heartbeat. No animal is giving away its location through sudden noise, yet the acute sensation of not being alone hangs heavily in the air at the edge of the lake, its waters as dark as midnight. Staring into the shifting shadows between the towering evergreens, the inevitable question lingers: What is really hiding in the dark corners of the forest?<\/p>\n

Beside the water, Tanner Hoskins raises a thermal scope to his eye, systematically scanning the tree line for hidden heat signatures. He pauses as his sweep reaches the far, marshy corner of the alpine lake. <\/p>\n

\u201cI think I\u2019ve got something moving,\u201d he says quietly.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

For the past six years, Hoskins and a tight-knit group of friends have scoured the rugged wilderness of the Pacific Northwest in pursuit of an answer to a singular, persistent question: What else is out there?<\/em> This weekend, joining them on an expedition into the heart of sasquatch country offers a firsthand look at what happens when ordinary people go looking for the boundaries of the unknown.<\/p>\n

A Midnight Encounter in the Pines<\/h3>\n

About two miles away as the crow flies, a dispersed campsite remains tucked quietly into a grove of pine trees. It was here, on a cool July night in 2020, that decades-long friends Kelly Stolp and Mike Palagi sat around a campfire with Stolp\u2019s sons and Palagi\u2019s fianc\u00e9e. Flames licked at the black sky as laughter carried into the night\u2014a familiar scene for men who first met while serving in the United States Army in 2005.<\/p>\n

Stolp eventually retired to his tent while the fire was still crackling. Deep in the night, a loud, guttural howl pierced the silence, sounding remarkably like a car engine struggling to turn over in freezing weather. Then came the footsteps: slow, steady, and drawing closer to his tent. The footsteps felt far too heavy and loud to belong to a human, carrying a distinct sense of a heavy stomp rather than a normal stride. Each footfall vibrated through the earth, leaving Stolp with the absolute conviction that the sound was being made by a two-legged creature.<\/p>\n

Growing up on a 35,000-acre ranch in Montana, Stolp had hunted for decades and recreated in the backcountry since he could walk. He embarked on his first backpacking trip at the age of 12, making him deeply familiar with every species of wildlife native to the American West, having once even had a grizzly bear wander through his camp. But in that moment, he knew without hesitation that he was not hearing a bear, a cougar, an elk, or a coyote.<\/p>\n

Stolp listened as the creature approached, brushing up against the huckleberries just feet from his tent wall. Despite the air dropping to a chilly 50 degrees, he was drenched in sweat. Then, he heard the footsteps slowly retreating up the dry creekbed winding past the campsite.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

The following morning, Stolp told Palagi, \u201cSomething came through camp last night,\u201d describing a massive, bipedal visitor. Palagi merely laughed, pointing to an empty whiskey bottle as a humorous explanation, and the topic was dropped for the rest of the day.<\/p>\n

Yet at 3:00 A.M. the very next night, the footsteps returned. Thump. Thump. Thump.<\/em> The identical guttural howl was now echoing from two distinct directions. <\/p>\n

Stolp sat straight up in his sleeping bag. \u201cMike. It\u2019s back.\u201d<\/p>\n

He heard the sharp click of a gun being racked, followed by Palagi\u2019s voice: \u201cKelly, I\u2019m up.\u201d
\n\u201cTwo legs or four?\u201d
\n\u201cBipedal, man,\u201d Palagi replied without hesitation.
\n\u201cHow big?\u201d
\n\u201cReally fucking big.\u201d<\/p>\n

Both men rolled out of their tents. Stolp shouted into the dark, \u201cWe\u2019re armed, show yourself.\u201d Trained as military snipers, Palagi and Stolp systematically cleared the campsite with weapons ready. They found nothing, but the two men\u2014neither of whom scare easily\u2014spent the remainder of the night sleeping inside their trucks.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve spent my entire life outdoors and encountered everything the wilderness has to offer,\u201d Stolp reflected later. \u201cBut I\u2019d never slept in my truck, not even when a grizzly came through my camp.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the morning, the men attempted to recreate the heavy stomping sound themselves. Neither man is small; Palagi played college football in Montana as a defensive lineman, and Stolp possesses a similarly sturdy build. Yet even when Palagi jumped with his full body weight, he could not come close to matching the deep, earth-shattering thuds they had heard in the night.<\/p>\n

The following Monday, Stolp headed to Shriners Children\u2019s Hospital in Portland, where he worked as an electrician alongside Palagi, who served as a maintenance engineer. He pulled a coworker aside\u2014a security guard named Tanner Hoskins. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to promise you won\u2019t tell anyone,\u201d Stolp cautioned, acutely aware of how absurd the story sounded and desperate to avoid being labeled a believer in Bigfoot.<\/p>\n

Hoskins, however, was far more receptive. Growing up, his great-grandmother had warned him about \u201chidebehinds,\u201d mythical creatures blamed for the disappearance of loggers in the Idaho backcountry. Stolp\u2019s account, combined with those childhood stories, sparked his curiosity about whether the Pacific Northwest might harbor similar unknown entities. Hoskins swore secrecy, but upon returning home, he built a website for the Pacific Northwest Bigfoot Search, publishing his friend’s account while inviting others to share their own mysterious encounters.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

The Evolution of the Myth and the Modern Search<\/h3>\n

Stories of large, mysterious forest-dwelling humanoids have circulated across global cultures for centuries. The name Bigfoot, along with its more common regional moniker Sasquatch, is an anglicized adaptation of Sasq\u2019ets<\/em>, a term from the Coast Salish peoples of British Columbia. Across generations, Indigenous oral traditions have preserved variations of these beings, viewing them alternately as formidable physical animals and spiritual guides.<\/p>\n

Today, the cultural footprint of Bigfoot has expanded exponentially. Its image adorns merchandise, road signs, and social media platforms, with the dedicated Bigfoot subreddit boasting nearly 300,000 members. The phenomenon drives podcasts, conferences, symposiums, and specialized excursions like a seven-night Bigfoot research cruise. Major media networks have dedicated entire series to the pursuit, including Animal Planet’s Finding Bigfoot<\/em> and the Travel Channel\u2019s Expedition Bigfoot<\/em>.<\/p>\n

While the cultural fascination is undeniable, definitive scientific validation remains elusive. The Bigfoot Field Research Organization has compiled a database exceeding 5,000 reported sightings, with Washington state alone accounting for more than 700. Despite decades of anecdotal reports, grainy photographs, and circumstantial evidence, the creature\u2014if real\u2014remains remarkably camera-shy.<\/p>\n

Most researchers within the community operate under the assumption that Sasquatch exists not as a solitary anomaly, but as a living, breeding species comparable to wolves, bears, or cougars. While mainstream science continues to demand physical specimens\u2014\u201cScience wants a body\u201d is a frequent refrain among investigators\u2014a handful of credentialed academics have lent a degree of open-mindedness to the field, including the late anthropologists Grover Krantz and Jeffrey Meldrum, as well as renowned primatologist Jane Goodall, who noted the striking global ubiquity of wild hominoid legends.<\/p>\n

Since launching the Pacific Northwest Bigfoot Search website, Hoskins and his core team have received 287 direct reports ranging from vocalizations and footprints to alleged visual sightings. While Hoskins acknowledges that many submissions must be viewed skeptically, he finds the anonymous accounts submitted by professional loggers, law enforcement officers, and government employees particularly compelling.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

Over the past five years, the informal database has evolved into an active field research group. The core team consists of four men once brought together by their jobs at Shriners: Hoskins, Stolp, Palagi, and Alberto Quinones, a warehouse manager who is married to Hoskins\u2019s cousin. <\/p>\n

At 30 years old, Quinones is the youngest member of the group. Stolp, 48, manages multibillion-dollar construction projects in Texas while maintaining a military-precise demeanor. Palagi, living outside Portland with his pets, serves as the group’s resident skeptic. Hoskins, also a father of two, acts as the organizational anchor of the group. Despite being denied a career in law enforcement due to severe scoliosis and an amputated right leg, Hoskins maintains a commanding presence and an unwavering commitment to looking out for his companions.<\/p>\n

Intriguingly, the group defies the stereotype of the uncritical believer. Palagi openly challenges theories and attributes his past campsite disturbance to natural phenomena, while Stolp remains vocal about his skepticism. Even Hoskins admits to operating at roughly 80 percent belief, noting that true certainty will require a direct visual confirmation.<\/p>\n

Into the Gifford Pinchot National Forest<\/h3>\n

Driving a 2011 Toyota Sienna equipped with an aftermarket lift kit and all-terrain tires, navigating the rutted logging roads of the Gifford Pinchot National Forest is a test of nerves. The 1.3-million-acre expanse in the shadow of Mount Adams is a recognized epicenter for sasquatch lore, encompassing historical sites like Ape Canyon\u2014where gold prospectors reported clashes with apelike creatures in 1924\u2014and Skookum Meadows, where researchers documented an unidentified primate-like body imprint in the mud in 2000. <\/p>\n

The historical volume of sightings in the region prompted Skamania County to pass a protective ordinance in the 1960s, making the willful harming of Bigfoot a punishable offense to safeguard both the creature and the armed hunters flooding the backcountry.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

Arriving at the secluded camp clearing, Hoskins and Quinones tend a crackling campfire fed by wood gathered after a day of rain. The folding table is crowded with the group’s standard field equipment: thermal scopes, casting plaster, trail cameras, and audio recording units. Both Hoskins and Quinones carry firearms on their hips, though Hoskins notes they are intended more for protection against human hazards\u2014recalling regional tragedies like the Green River Killer dumping grounds\u2014than mythical beasts.<\/p>\n

As Hoskins preps the thermal camera, the conversation turns to the statistical realities of wildlife observation. "There are 30,000 bears in Oregon," Hoskins notes. "How often do you see one?"<\/p>\n

For Hoskins, these monthly expeditions serve a dual purpose. Following a childhood marked by extensive surgeries and the loss of his great-grandmother in 2021, the deep forest became a sanctuary for processing grief. "I spent weekends in the trees just screaming, crying, and staring at the fire," he shares. "Being out here is the best thing for you when you\u2019re going through difficult times; your mind actually has space to process what you\u2019re feeling."<\/p>\n

The sentiment resonates across the group. Stolp echoes the feeling, describing the camaraderie as an antidote to modern stresses. "The news is garbage, social media is garbage, everything is garbage," Stolp says. "The only thing that feels real and meaningful, other than my family, is going into the woods with my buddies."<\/p>\n

The Pacific Northwest Missing Persons Project<\/h3>\n

Beyond the pursuit of Bigfoot, the group\u2019s deep-woods excursions have taken on a profound humanitarian mission. In 2021, relatives of Glenn Austin Oldfield II\u2014who vanished while camping alone in the Gifford Pinchot in 2015\u2014reached out to the group, asking them to keep an eye out for signs of their missing loved one.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

Prompted by the request, Hoskins contacted the Washington State Patrol and obtained a list of 34 individuals reported missing within the national forest since 1979. This led to the creation of the Pacific Northwest Missing Persons Project, utilizing the team’s meticulous backcountry tracking skills to search for discarded clothing, personal items, and human remains in cold cases where official search and rescue efforts have stalled due to funding and resource limitations. <\/p>\n

Hoskins has since compiled a tracking list of 500 missing persons across Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, and California. Operating largely out of pocket and limited primarily by time and fuel costs, the group investigates cold cases alongside their wildlife searches, having discovered human skeletal remains during a previous outing that remain pending official identification by law enforcement.<\/p>\n

The Search for Evidence<\/h3>\n

As early morning mist lifts from the alpine lake, the team resumes its field survey, methodically examining game trails, broken branches, and soft mud banks for anomalies that defy natural explanation. <\/p>\n

While scanning the shoreline, Hoskins identifies a depression in the mud. "That could be a deer butt," he remarks, "but let’s cast it to find out." He mixes and pours plaster into the impression, leaving it to cure for future analysis.<\/p>\n

Despite the inherent uncertainty of finding definitive physical proof, the underlying motivation for these trips extends far beyond the tangible evidence. Whether searching for tracks, investigating missing persons cases, or simply sitting around a campfire through the freezing night, the expedition represents a deliberate resistance to the pressures of modern life.<\/p>\n

\"These<\/figure>\n

Later, as Hoskins cleans the hardened plaster cast, the anticipation momentarily gives way to reality. The cast reveals an unidentifiable impression rather than an undeniable giant footprint. Yet the outcome changes little. The members of the Pacific Northwest Bigfoot Search will return to their commutes, night shifts, and demanding careers, only to pack their gear and head back into the dark timber\u2014driven by the enduring human desire to find wonder in an increasingly mapped world.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Emily Halnon Published October 31, 2026 The forest sounds empty, but the silence is deceiving. Earlier in the day, walking along a remote lakeshore deep within Washington\u2019s Gifford Pinchot National Forest, the signs of local wildlife were unmistakable: fresh hoof prints pressed into the damp soil, a sharp cougar track, and scattered coyote scat. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1587,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[269],"tags":[2524,270,2525,272,253,641,2526,2339,1705,271,1516,395,2523],"class_list":["post-1588","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adventure-travel-outdoor-activities","tag-adams","tag-adventure-travel","tag-bigfoot","tag-exploration","tag-hiking","tag-inside","tag-legend","tag-mount","tag-northwest","tag-outdoor-sports","tag-pacific","tag-search","tag-shadow"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1588","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1588"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1588\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1587"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1588"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1588"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thetripbook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1588"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}