The Bigfoot Discovery Project
QUOTE
Felton Bigfoot museum explores all things Sasquatch
By NANCY PASTERNACK - Sentinel staff writer
FELTON — Mike Rugg says his work is an important link to the bigger existential questions of life. "Who are we?" for instance, and "Where did we come from?"
At a more pedestrian level, however, he is more concerned with questions like, "Did Bigfoot kill my chicken?" and "Is this really Bigfoot’s poop?"
Rugg has been researching the lifestyles of the big and hairy for more than 50 years.
The results, both humorous and serious, are now on display at the Bigfoot Discovery Museum in Felton.
Since it opened in July, Rugg says his museum has attracted true believers, curiosity seekers, skeptics, and the mentally ill.
A couple from Ben Lomond recently brought him the remains of their ravaged chicken and a story about strange noises that frightened them.
Rugg listened carefully to their claims and followed them home to investigate.
His conclusion: The chicken’s demise was probably Bigfoot-related.
Such validation, he says, is not easily won.
He’s received numerous leads about Bigfoot tracks that he determined to be bogus.
"People like me who are into this can tell a false track," he says, with a worldly air.
He gets other stuff, too.
"I got some hair that was said to be Bigfoot’s, but it was proven to be fake. It’s a long story," he says with more than a hint of annoyance.
Waste not, want not
Then there’s the guy with the poop.
A man who recently visited the museum told Rugg of his own Bigfoot-tracking success, including the discovery of some Bigfoot excrement. The man claimed to have collected the stuff and mailed it off to the University of Rhode Island for authentication long ago.
But the professor for whom the turds were intended had already retired.
Soon after Rugg heard this story, he received a certified package from the University of Rhode Island. The box contained eight Chinese takeout containers, which Rugg opened without hesitation.
"Sure enough, there was poop in them," Rugg says, his eyes twinkling. "They were happy to ship it to me."
And Rugg was happy to receive it.
"Here’s this box of poop and no one there knows what to do with it, but they kept it in storage for five years," he says.
Rugg wants to display the evidence, he says, but first he must have it analyzed for its contents.
"I need the particulars," he says. "Just the poop itself is not enough."
A Felton resident for 46 years, Rugg says one of his primary interests is in "currently unclassified hairy bi-peds" (the scientific description of Bigfoot) that have been spotted close to his own back yard.
Bigfoot’s long history
Sightings in and around the Santa Cruz Mountains have been reported at least as far back as 1882, when the San Francisco Post claimed a "Wild man of the woods" had been frightening Felton campers.
This, and other facts of interest to local Bigfoot believers, are listed in the museum’s history timeline, posted near the entrance.
Biologist Fred McPherson says he doesn’t think Felton and its neighboring communities are conducive to Bigfoot’s survival.
McPherson has taught a course, "The Natural History of the Santa Cruz Mountains," at UC Santa Cruz for the past 20 years.
"This area has been logged and inhabited by people for a long time, and probably isn’t the best place for Bigfoot," he says. "It’s better here for gnomes and elves who can live in other dimensions."
Rugg says he’s used to the jokes, and he indulges a certain amount of humor in the museum’s displays. For instance, the front room features Tabloid covers, such as one from the Weekly World News: "Bigfoot Talks. Astonishing! Gentle Beast is like a 5-year-old Child!"
Display cases house Bigfoot-related toys and games from the 1970s — a decade when big hairy monsters inhabited toy-store shelves everywhere.
New additions to the genre are sold in the museum as gifts.
Dolls and books
There’s the Bigfoot action figure, a rubber doormat emblazoned with "Welcome Bigfoot and Thanks for Wiping" — a greeting that Rugg admits is a little bizarre — and a stuffed Bigfoot Christmas doll. The doll comes with a pair of big shoes, a book, and a CD featuring whimsical songs that celebrate the beast’s existence.
Then there’s the more serious section. Alleged documentary footage of Bigfoot from 1967 plays in a constant loop. A display case features skeletal artifacts and plaster casts of footprints. Then there are the books.
"Meet the Sasquatch," one with a good reputation, according to Rugg, mentions the museum owner in its pages.
Notably absent is "In Me Own Words: The Autobiography of Bigfoot," which reveals the creature as having struggled with eating disorders and chronic ennui. Toronto author and illustrator Graham Roumieu says he is not troubled by the oversight.
A customer review of his book at Amazon.com, after all, pointed out that Roumieu’s book "provides no actual useful information about Bigfoot."
Roumieu was amazed by the news that a Bigfoot museum had opened in Felton. He says he admires Rugg for the courage of his convictions and he hopes one day to visit him.
"He must have woken up in the middle of the night and said, ‘The world needs a Bigfoot museum,’" Roumieu says. "I’m upset that I didn’t think of it first."
Paula Yarr, Rugg’s common-law wife and fellow Bigfoot aficionado, says she realizes not everyone has reverence for the subject matter that has been at the center of her life since 1967.
That was the year when claims about authentic Bigfoot film footage made news headlines.
"I remember seeing it on the nightly news," she says. "I was scared."
She jokes about the amount of time and energy she and Rugg spend on the subject. "Sometimes we say we’re the first church of Bigfoot," she says.
Rugg says he takes quite a bit of ribbing over his obsession, and there’s a limit to how much he can take.
"Scientists tend to study this under ground, because of the public belief that it’s all a hoax," he says. "People do come in contact with these beings, so we need to stop kidding about it, and realize it’s a fact."
Yarr smiles at him and urges him to lighten up. She’s not as concerned as her husband, she says, about skeptics.
"You can believe or not believe," she says matter-of-factly. "It’s not going to wash my laundry."
Contact Nancy Pasternack at npasternack@santacruzsentinel.com.
By NANCY PASTERNACK - Sentinel staff writer
FELTON — Mike Rugg says his work is an important link to the bigger existential questions of life. "Who are we?" for instance, and "Where did we come from?"
At a more pedestrian level, however, he is more concerned with questions like, "Did Bigfoot kill my chicken?" and "Is this really Bigfoot’s poop?"
Rugg has been researching the lifestyles of the big and hairy for more than 50 years.
The results, both humorous and serious, are now on display at the Bigfoot Discovery Museum in Felton.
Since it opened in July, Rugg says his museum has attracted true believers, curiosity seekers, skeptics, and the mentally ill.
A couple from Ben Lomond recently brought him the remains of their ravaged chicken and a story about strange noises that frightened them.
Rugg listened carefully to their claims and followed them home to investigate.
His conclusion: The chicken’s demise was probably Bigfoot-related.
Such validation, he says, is not easily won.
He’s received numerous leads about Bigfoot tracks that he determined to be bogus.
"People like me who are into this can tell a false track," he says, with a worldly air.
He gets other stuff, too.
"I got some hair that was said to be Bigfoot’s, but it was proven to be fake. It’s a long story," he says with more than a hint of annoyance.
Waste not, want not
Then there’s the guy with the poop.
A man who recently visited the museum told Rugg of his own Bigfoot-tracking success, including the discovery of some Bigfoot excrement. The man claimed to have collected the stuff and mailed it off to the University of Rhode Island for authentication long ago.
But the professor for whom the turds were intended had already retired.
Soon after Rugg heard this story, he received a certified package from the University of Rhode Island. The box contained eight Chinese takeout containers, which Rugg opened without hesitation.
"Sure enough, there was poop in them," Rugg says, his eyes twinkling. "They were happy to ship it to me."
And Rugg was happy to receive it.
"Here’s this box of poop and no one there knows what to do with it, but they kept it in storage for five years," he says.
Rugg wants to display the evidence, he says, but first he must have it analyzed for its contents.
"I need the particulars," he says. "Just the poop itself is not enough."
A Felton resident for 46 years, Rugg says one of his primary interests is in "currently unclassified hairy bi-peds" (the scientific description of Bigfoot) that have been spotted close to his own back yard.
Bigfoot’s long history
Sightings in and around the Santa Cruz Mountains have been reported at least as far back as 1882, when the San Francisco Post claimed a "Wild man of the woods" had been frightening Felton campers.
This, and other facts of interest to local Bigfoot believers, are listed in the museum’s history timeline, posted near the entrance.
Biologist Fred McPherson says he doesn’t think Felton and its neighboring communities are conducive to Bigfoot’s survival.
McPherson has taught a course, "The Natural History of the Santa Cruz Mountains," at UC Santa Cruz for the past 20 years.
"This area has been logged and inhabited by people for a long time, and probably isn’t the best place for Bigfoot," he says. "It’s better here for gnomes and elves who can live in other dimensions."
Rugg says he’s used to the jokes, and he indulges a certain amount of humor in the museum’s displays. For instance, the front room features Tabloid covers, such as one from the Weekly World News: "Bigfoot Talks. Astonishing! Gentle Beast is like a 5-year-old Child!"
Display cases house Bigfoot-related toys and games from the 1970s — a decade when big hairy monsters inhabited toy-store shelves everywhere.
New additions to the genre are sold in the museum as gifts.
Dolls and books
There’s the Bigfoot action figure, a rubber doormat emblazoned with "Welcome Bigfoot and Thanks for Wiping" — a greeting that Rugg admits is a little bizarre — and a stuffed Bigfoot Christmas doll. The doll comes with a pair of big shoes, a book, and a CD featuring whimsical songs that celebrate the beast’s existence.
Then there’s the more serious section. Alleged documentary footage of Bigfoot from 1967 plays in a constant loop. A display case features skeletal artifacts and plaster casts of footprints. Then there are the books.
"Meet the Sasquatch," one with a good reputation, according to Rugg, mentions the museum owner in its pages.
Notably absent is "In Me Own Words: The Autobiography of Bigfoot," which reveals the creature as having struggled with eating disorders and chronic ennui. Toronto author and illustrator Graham Roumieu says he is not troubled by the oversight.
A customer review of his book at Amazon.com, after all, pointed out that Roumieu’s book "provides no actual useful information about Bigfoot."
Roumieu was amazed by the news that a Bigfoot museum had opened in Felton. He says he admires Rugg for the courage of his convictions and he hopes one day to visit him.
"He must have woken up in the middle of the night and said, ‘The world needs a Bigfoot museum,’" Roumieu says. "I’m upset that I didn’t think of it first."
Paula Yarr, Rugg’s common-law wife and fellow Bigfoot aficionado, says she realizes not everyone has reverence for the subject matter that has been at the center of her life since 1967.
That was the year when claims about authentic Bigfoot film footage made news headlines.
"I remember seeing it on the nightly news," she says. "I was scared."
She jokes about the amount of time and energy she and Rugg spend on the subject. "Sometimes we say we’re the first church of Bigfoot," she says.
Rugg says he takes quite a bit of ribbing over his obsession, and there’s a limit to how much he can take.
"Scientists tend to study this under ground, because of the public belief that it’s all a hoax," he says. "People do come in contact with these beings, so we need to stop kidding about it, and realize it’s a fact."
Yarr smiles at him and urges him to lighten up. She’s not as concerned as her husband, she says, about skeptics.
"You can believe or not believe," she says matter-of-factly. "It’s not going to wash my laundry."
Contact Nancy Pasternack at npasternack@santacruzsentinel.com.
I agree, Tirademan!!
