1980: A Scotts Valley Big Foot sighting

Source: The Register-Pajaronian, June 17, 1980.

1882: At the Felton Camp...

Frank Harrison Gassaway.

At the Felton camp one such remarkable specimen of womanhood regaled us with a blood-curdling account of a wild man of the woods that infested the forest thereabouts, and which had developed a hospitable habit of prowling around the camp at night and uttering dismal cries, indicative of a gloomy desire to lunch on the fattest young lady of the party.

The fact that these so-called wild men are greatly on the increase in this part of the country has been widely commented on by the newspapers—as though there were anything strange about their origin. Every confirmed camper-out will recall numerous instances when certain members of his company have mysteriously disappeared from among their fellow lunatics. These deserters do not sneak off home, as is commonly supposed by the others. A long course of scorched beans, water-carrying, of wood- ticks and tarantulas has undermined their intellects and caused them to relapse into the native barbarism of our quadrumanal forefathers. They stand it as long as possible, and then incontinently take to the woods and live on raw jack-rabbits and good scenery. There are doubtless thousands of just such miserable beings in the vicinity, and the Santa Cruz county authorities are beginning to consider the advisability of putting a price upon the scalps of these woodland waifs in order to protect the local hen-roosts and the still greater industry of this section, which is the leasing of camping grounds. It is a small and one-horse ranch in in these parts on which the farmer does not advertise a camping ground to let for the season, supplied with all the modern conveniences—to wit, fresh water and alleged fishing and hunting facilities. One camp we visited disclosed about twenty-five of its inmates solemnly angling in a stream that looked as though it had been made by upsetting a wash-tub. They had pursued this pastime steadily for eleven days, with an aggregate result of three three-inch trout. To this purpose was devoted probably $2,000 worth of fine tackle. Every other able-bodied man about the camp was engaged in lugging expensive shooting outfits and $75 nickel-plated Winchesters over the country in search of a mythical grizzly bear, whose trail had been discovered about six miles from camp. It was only after two week's industrious shinning up the sun-baked cañons that the tracks were discovered to be those of an old darkey squatter, who was accustomed to go hunting cottontails in his bare feet.

Gassaway, Frank Harrison. Summer Saunterings. San Francisco, Francis, Valentine & co., printers, 1882. PDF.