On a sunny October morning, a group comprised of forest rangers, crypto-linguists, a few curious out-of-towners and the makeup artist from the movie Swamp Thing traveled deep into the Santa Cruz Mountains to talk about Bigfoot. One part academic conference and one part tailgate, this gathering of the faithful is known as Bigfoot Discovery Day. The event, now in its third year, is hosted by Michael Rugg, '68, who owns and operates a museum dedicated to the Hairy One in Felton, Calif.
Like the Loch Ness Monster and El Chupacabra, Bigfoot is a creature whose cult following endures, despite the rejection of its existence by most mainstream scientists. Legends of hulking, hirsute, forest-dwelling humanoids gained support in the late 1960s when Roger Patterson and Robert Gimlin captured a strange, apelike creature on film. Although the authenticity of the film has been the subject of intense controversy, reported Bigfoot sightings occur regularly around the world, particularly in the American Pacific Northwest.
Rugg believes that he may have encountered the reclusive cryptid as a young child while on a family camping trip in Northern California. Now, he makes it his responsibility to document Bigfoot reports throughout the country, marking those that occur in Santa Cruz County with a pushpin on a map of the area. The accounts are difficult to substantiate, most coming without evidence, but if nothing else they are prolific: On average the museum receives three reports every two weeks.
And while on this occasion the guest of honor failed to make an appearance, the Discovery Day participants didn't seem to mind. A guitarist sang Sasquatch-themed songs while others perused a selection of souvenirs, such as the best-selling Bigfoot action figure. A volunteer fired up the grill and served lunch. Later, the guests headed over to the community hall to listen to research presentations from some of the country's foremost Bigfoot researchers, lectures on topics such as Bigfoot vocalizations and Bigfoot in Native American culture.
Though he devotes most of his time to collecting information about mysterious bipeds, Rugg describes himself as a "Bigfoot agnostic"—one who neither confirms nor denies the possibility that Bigfoot might exist.
"I'm not a scientist, there are no letters after my name," he says. "But I do have the luxury of being able to explore this subject without having to apologize for it."
That exploration led Rugg to co-found the Bigfoot Discovery Project with his partner Paula Yarr in 2003, after being laid off from his job as a graphic designer during the dot-com bust. At the center of the project is the museum, which houses Rugg's collection of paw prints, videos and photographs. Although it has occasionally been the target of vandalism, the museum has become a popular tourist spot. Each year, some 6,000 visitors travel from as far away as Europe to view the exhibits and share their theories with Rugg, whom his granddaughter affectionately calls "Papa Bigfoot."
At Stanford, Rugg was the editor of the Chaparral and a member of the Delta Tau Delta fraternity. A fine arts and anthropology double major, he dropped the latter after he became disillusioned with the department's response to his term paper "A History and Discussion of the Abominable Snowman." But his artistic background provides a practical skill set in his current capacity.
"Artists are a better-than-average judge of what looks right or wrong," he says. When three men announced in 2008 that they had found a small tribe of Bigfoot creatures in Georgia, Rugg quickly dismissed the claim as a hoax in part because of the similarities he noted between the human body and the photographed creature. It turned out that it was actually a rubber gorilla suit placed in a tub of ice.
But what would happen if Rugg came across some piece of evidence that incontrovertibly settled the Bigfoot question once and for all?
"If we figure it out, we'll just move on to another mystery."
MARIE C. BACA, '06, is a master's student in the graduate program in journalism.
