Over the decades, numerous people have reported seeing the tracks of the Bigfoot creatures – and across over much of the United States. It’s a fact, though, that the hairy giants aren’t the only ones to have left their tracks and markings behind, as we will now see. How about the Loch Ness Monsters? Well, let’s take a look. In an August 4, 2020 article titled “Loch Ness Trip Report July 2020,” Nessie expert Roland Watson said of possible evidence of one of the monsters having left the deep waters and made it onto the land (albeit briefly, we assume): “After tea in Fort William, we got back to Loch Ness about 7pm and I did my usual walk around the Foyers beach. However, as I turned to walk along the river, I was arrested by an unusual sight – a large area of flattened reeds [italics] right beside the River Foyers. Some obvious thoughts did go through my mind, but I first had to evaluate the situation and go through all the possibilities.” Roland continued that: “It was tempting to conclude some massive weight had dropped on this vegetation and crushed them, i.e. they were horizontal with the stalks bent just above the soil.” Certainly, there are actually quite a few reports of the Nessies having been seen on land. Maybe this was yet another example. Now, let’s take a look at a very different beast.
A startling encounter with a large flying creature – far bigger than anything officially known to exist today – occurred in the piney woods of East Texas in late 1964. The source of the story chose to remain anonymous, which is understandable, as not everyone wants the world to know they have been confronted by a monstrous bird. Nevertheless, it’s a story that was studied carefully by cryptozoologist, Ken Gerhard. Ken was told by the witness that he’d seen “…a positively huge bird flying from south to north. It was approximately flying at a height of 150 feet and I was able to observe its flight for a total of one minute or so before it disappeared into a cloud bank.” Notably, as Ken states: “On my first Bigfoot expedition there in September of 2002, I discovered an unusual, large three-toed rack, which I made a plaster cast of [italics mine]. All those who studied the cast agreed that the track seemed to have a bird-like quality. After one expert proclaimed the track to be from an escaped emu (the tall, flightless relative of the ostrich), I discarded the cast. In retrospect, I wish that I had kept it!”
The world of the past had no shortage, either, as the strange saga of what became known as the Linton Worm makes very clear. A tale that dates back to the 1100s, it tells of a horrific, man-eating, giant, worm-like beast that terrified the good folk of Linton, Roxburghshire, which is located on the Southern Uplands of Scotland. According to the old tales, the Linton Worm was somewhere between ten and twelve feet in length, which, if true, effectively rules out any known British animal – wild or domestic – as being the culprit. Rather oddly, so the old legend went, the huge worm had two homes. In part, it lived in the heart of Linton Loch – a small, boggy area and the ideal place for a monster to hide. Its other, dark abode was Linton Hill, which even today is referred to as Worm’s Den, such is the enduring nature of the legend. Intriguingly, these ancient ‘”worms” were said to leave behind them a kind of “slime.” Not at all unlike what you might see behind a snail.
Although most Bigfoot tracks show five toes, that’s not always the case. The late John Green, one of the key figures in the quest to solve the Bigfoot riddle, had his own thoughts on this particular issue. Admittedly, Green’s words don’t make the toe issue any clearer, but they are at least worth noting: “Most show five toes, but about 20 percent of reports describe either four toes or three toes. Probably the proportion with less than five toes is not actually that great. The number of toes often is not mentioned in a footprint report, and it seems likely that when prints show three or four toes that would usually be remarked on, while five toes would be taken for granted.” Green offered the following, too: “If there were just five-toed tracks and three-toed tracks and each type was of consistent shape, I would accept that as a clear indication of two different species. Since there are four-toed tracks as well, and the three-toed kind are very inconsistent in shape, I don’t think such a conclusion would help much.”