Showing posts with label Bigfoot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bigfoot. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

The Man Who Was Kidnapped by Bigfoot: The Albert Ostman Story

(This article was originally published om 1/26/2011 on BFD)

Newspaper article from The Agassiz-Harrison Advance (1957)

In 1924, a young Scandinavian named Albert Ostman spent several days prospecting for a lost gold mine near the head of Toba Inlet in British Columbia. He had heard that there were several of these old mines in the British Columbia area, and thought it would be a great vacation experience if he could locate one.

He took the Union Steamship boat to Lund, British Columbia, where he hired an old Indian to guide him the rest of the way to the Toba Inlet.

In Albert's own words: "This old Indian was a very talkative old gentleman. He told me stories about gold brought out by a white man from this lost mine. This white man was a very heavy drinker — spent his money freely in saloons. But he had no trouble in getting more money. He would be away a few days, then come back with a bag of gold. But one time he went to his mine and never came back. Some people said a Sasquatch had killed him.

At that time I had never heard of Sasquatch. So I asked what kind of an animal he called a Sasquatch. The Indian said, "They have hair all over their bodies, but they are not animals. They are people. Big people living in the mountains. My uncle saw the tracks of one that were two feet long. One old Indian saw one over eight feet tall.

I told the Indian I didn't believe in their old fables about mountain giants. It might have been some thousands of years ago, but not nowadays.

The Indian said: 'There may not be many, but they still exist.'"

Albert made it to Toba Inlet and was happy to have this time to himself. He figured that he would scour the forest during the days looking for the mine, and at night he would map out the areas he covered and make plans for the next day's exploration. He had plenty of food that he had bought from a grocer in Lund, which consisted mostly of canned items, but also some bacon, a bag of beans, four pounds of prunes, six packets of macaroni and cheese, three pounds of pancake flour, six packets of Rye King hard tack, one quart of butter and two one-pound cans of milk. The grocer in Lund also gave Albert some tin cans in order to keep his sugar, salt and matches dry. Then he had a sleeping bag, a Winchester rifle, a small frying pan, an aluminum pot, and three rolls of snuff. He would bundle all of this together before he set out in the morning and carry it with him as he set up a new camp each night. It would require alot of stamina to lug around an eighty pound bag each day, but Albert didn't really seem to mind so much. He was after all on "vacation." He would travel like this for about three days until he found a spot suitable to be his permanent camping spot.



Toba Inlet, British Columbia

Albert was sleeping in his sleeping bag when he was suddenly awakened to a terrifying realization. He was being "carried"... He had been scooped up and transported off... By something much bigger than he. At first he thought that he must be dreaming. But as he became more and more aware of the experience, he realized that he was not dreaming, but very much awake.

Wrapped up tightly in his sleeping bag, it was impossible for Albert to determine what was carrying him, but he could determine this much: He was being carried over the shoulder of a large bi-pedal creature that seemed to possess super human strength and amazing dexterity.

"My first thought was - it must be a snow slide..." Albert recalled several years later. "Then it felt like I was tossed on horseback, but I could feel whoever it was, was walking."

"I was in a very uncomfortable position — unable to move. I was sitting on my feet, and one of the boots in the bottom of the bag was crossways with the hobnail sole up across my foot. It hurt me terribly, but I could not move.

It was very hot inside. It was lucky for me this fellow's hand was not big enough to close up the whole bag when he picked me up — there was a small opening at the top, otherwise I would have choked to death."

Too afraid to move or to try to escape, and simply dumbfounded, Albert didn't move for several hours as the creature carried him away from his camp site. Then, very suddenly, he was dropped to the ground. He could hear some incoherent chatter, but couldn't make out what was being said, if anything. He was terrified for his life, and still wasn't able to comprehend what was happening. He continued to fight off the notion that he was still sleeping and just having a bad dream.

The next day Albert found himself in an area that was surrounded by cliffs on all sides. And he was not alone. There with him was what he considered to be a family of Bigfoot... 4 specimens of different sizes and shapes... An enormous creature that Albert figured to be the "old man" of the group, an "old lady",  and two younger creatures that appeared to be children. Albert figured the old man to be over 8 feet tall and to weigh about 800 pounds. He judged the old lady to be slightly smaller at about 7 feet tall and 600 pounds. The children were much smaller in stature, and were obviously lacking in the maturity of the older beasts.

"I had never heard of Sasquatch before the Indian told me about them. But I knew I was right among them.

But how to get away from them, that was another question? I got to see the outline of them now, as it began to get lighter, though the sky was cloudy, and it looked like rain, in fact there was a slight sprinkle.

I now had circulation in my legs, but my left foot was very sore on top where it had been resting on my hobnail boots. I got my boots out from the sleeping bag and tried to stand up. I found that I was wobbly on my feet, but I had a good hold of my rifle.

I asked, "What you fellows want with me?" Only some more chatter.

I had my compass and my prospecting glass on strings around my neck. The compass in my left hand shirt pocket and my glass in my right hand pocket. I tried to reason our location, and where I was. I could see now that I was in a small valley or basin about eight or ten acres, surrounded by high mountains, on the southeast side there was a V-shaped opening about eight feet wide at the bottom and about twenty feet high at the highest point — that must be the way I came in. But how will I get out? The old man was now sitting near this opening.

I moved my belongings up close to the west wall. There were two small cypress trees there, and this will do for a shelter for the time being. Until I find out what these people want with me, and how to get away from here. I emptied out my pack sack to see what I had left in the line of food. All my canned meat and vegetables were intact and I had one can of coffee. Also three small cans of milk — two packages of Rye King hard tack and my butter sealer half full of butter. But my prunes and macaroni were missing. Also my full box of shells for my rifle. I had my sheath knife but my prospecting pick was missing and my can of matches. I only had my safety box full and that held only about a dozen matches. That did not worry me — I can always start a fire with my prospecting glass when the sun is shining, if I got dry wood. I wanted hot coffee, but I had no wood, also nothing around here that looked like wood. I had a good look over the valley from where I was — but the boy and girl were always watching me from behind some juniper bush. I decided there must be some water around here. The ground was leaning towards the opening in the wall. There must be water at the upper end of this valley, there is green grass and moss along the bottom.

All my utensils were left behind. I opened my coffee tin and emptied the coffee in a dishtowel and tied it with the metal strip from the can. I took my rifle and the can and went looking for water. Right at the head under a cliff there was a lovely spring that disappeared underground. I got a drink, and a full can of water. When I got back the young boy was looking over my belongings, but did not touch anything. On my way back I noticed where these people were sleeping. On the east side wall of this valley was a shelf in the mountain side, with overhanging rock, looking something like a big undercut in a big tree about 10 feet deep and 30 feet wide. The floor was covered with lots of dry moss, and they had some kind of blankets woven of narrow strips of cedar bark, packed with dry moss. They looked very practical and warm — with no need of washing.



Photo: Lori Simmons (Used with permission)

Albert found himself in this incredulous situation, but yet he somehow managed to keep his bearings. The "old man" was very large and menacing, and Albert seemed to understand that if he panicked and freaked out, it could result in him taking a severe beating from this creature. He was able to gauge his surroundings and figured that he would bide his time until it he had a plan to escape.

The first day was pretty uneventful. He wasn't tied down and he had the freedom to rouse through his belongings at will. He ate his food without cooking it, always under the watchful eyes of the two younger creatures. He had an empty can of snuff, and tossed it over in the direction where the young boy was. The boy sprang to his feet and grabbed it, and took it over to his sister. The two of them played with it for a long while, and they discovered how to open and close it. After awhile, the boy took it over to the father and showed it to him. It seemed to be a subject of considerable attention, as the two "had a long chatter" about it.

The next morning Albert realized that he only had enough food to make it out of there and back to Toba Inlet. He knew had to leave - even if it meant shooting his way out. He wasn't sure what direction he would have to travel but figured that if he went downhill, he would eventually find civilization someplace. He put the rest of his food in his pack, and loaded a shell into the barrel of his rifle. With a deep breath, he started for the opening where the "old man" sat. The father stood up and pushed Albert back... It became very apparent that Albert wasn't allowed to leave. Albert pointed to the opening and told the old man that he wanted to pass through. The old man kept pushing, and said something that Albert would later describe as sounding like "Soka Soka".

Albert backed up to about 60 feet. He would need the space he figured, if he was going to shoot his way out. Then he remembered that he only had six shells, and wasn't perfectly sure that the first one would kill the old man. What it might do, Albert figured, is make the old man extremely angry, and thus wouldn't allow time to get another shell injected into the barrel before Albert took a shellacking. Albert figured that there must be another way out of there, without killing the old man. He went back to his campsite and started to work on plan B...

"I could make friends with the young fellow or the girl, they might help me. If I only could talk to them. Then I thought of a fellow who saved himself from a mad bull by blinding him with snuff in his eyes. But how will I get near enough to this fellow to put snuff in his eyes? So I decided next time I give the young fellow my snuff box to leave a few grains of snuff in it. He might give the old man a taste of it.

But the question is, in what direction will I go, if I should get out? I must have been near 25 miles northeast of Toba Inlet when I was kidnapped. This fellow must have travelled at least 25 miles in the three hours he carried me. If he went west we would be near salt water — same thing if he went south — therefore he must have gone northeast. If I then keep going south and over two mountains, I must hit salt water someplace between Lund and Vancouver.

The following day I did not see the old lady till about 4:00 p.m. She came home with her arms full of grass and twigs and of all kinds of spruce and hemlock as well as some kind of nuts that grow in the ground. I have seen lots of them on Vancouver Island. The young fellow went up the mountain to the east every day, he could climb better than a mountain goat. He picked some kind of grass with long sweet roots. He gave me some one day — they tasted very sweet. I gave him another snuff box with about a teaspoon of snuff in it. He tasted it, then went to the old man — he licked it with his tongue. They had a long chat. I made a dipper from a milk can. I made many dippers — you can use them for pots too — you cut two slits near the top of any can — then cut a limb from any small tree — cut down back of the limb down the stem of the tree — then taper the part you cut from the stem. Then cut a hole in the tapered part, slide the tapered part in the slit you have made in the can, and you have a good handle on your can. I threw one over to the young fellow, that was playing near my camp, he picked it up and looked at it then he went to the old man and showed it to him. They had a long chatter. Then he came to me, pointed at the dipper then at his sister. I could see that he wanted one for her too. I had other peas and carrots, so I made one for his sister. He was standing only eight feet away from me. When I had made the dipper, I dipped it in water and drank from it, he was very pleased, almost smiled at me. Then I took a chew of snuff, smacked my lips, said that's good.

The young fellow pointed to the old man, said something that sounded like "Ook." I got the idea that the old man liked snuff, and the young fellow wanted a box for the old man. I shook my head. I motioned with my hands for the old man to come to me. I do not think the young fellow understood what I meant. He went to his sister and gave her the dipper I made for her. They did not come near me again that day. I had now been here six days, but I was sure I was making progress. If only I could get the old man to come over to me, get him to eat a full box of snuff that would kill him for sure, and that way kill himself, I wouldn't be guilty of murder.

The old lady was a meek old thing. The young fellow was by this time quite friendly. The girl would not hurt anybody. Her chest was flat like a boy's — no development like young ladies. I am sure if I could get the old man out of the way I could easily have brought this girl out with me to civilization. But what good would that have been? I would have to keep her in a cage for public display. I don't think we have any right to force our way of life on other people, and I don't think they would like it. (The noise and racket in a modern city they would not like any more than I do.)

The young fellow might have been between 11-18 years old and about seven feet tall and might weight about 300 lbs. His chest would be 50-55 inches, his waist about 36-38 inches. He had wide jaws, narrow forehead, that slanted upward round at the back about four or five inches higher than the forehead. The hair on their heads was about six inches long. The hair on the rest of their body was short and thick in places. The women's hair on the forehead had an upward turn like some women have — they call it bangs, among women's hair-do's. Nowadays the old lady could have been anything between 40-70 years old. She was over seven feet tall. She would be about 500-600 pounds.

She had very wide hips, and a goose-like walk. She was not built for beauty or speed. Some of those lovable brassieres and uplifts would have been a great improvement on her looks and her figure. The man's eyeteeth were longer than the rest of the teeth, but not long enough to be called tusks. The old man must have been near eight feet tall. Big barrel chest and big hump on his back — powerful shoulders, his biceps on upper arm were enormous and tapered down to his elbows. His forearms were longer than common people have, but well proportioned. His hands were wide, the palm was long and broad, and hollow like a scoop. His fingers were short in proportion to the rest of his hand. His fingernails were like chisels. The only place they had no hair was inside their hands and the soles of their feet and upper part of the nose and eyelids. I never did see their ears, they were covered with hair hanging over them.

If the old man were to wear a collar it would have to be at least 30 inches. I have no idea what size shoes they would need. I was watching the young fellow's foot one day when he was sitting down. The soles of his feet seemed to be padded like a dog's foot, and the big toe was longer than the rest and very strong. In mountain climbing all he needed was footing for his big toe. They were very agile. To sit down they turned their knees out and came straight down. To rise they came straight up without help of hands or arms. I don't think this valley was their permanent home. I think they move from place to place, as food is available in different localities. They might eat meat, but I never saw them eat meat, or do any cooking.

I think this was probably a stopover place and the plants with sweet roots on the mountain side might have been in season this time of the year. They seem to be most interested in them. The roots have a very sweet and satisfying taste. They always seem to do everything for a reason, wasted no time on anything they did not need. When they were not looking for food, the old man and the old lady were resting, but the boy and the girl were always climbing something or some other exercise. A favorite position was to take hold of his feet with his hands and balance on his rump, then bounce forward. The idea seems to be to see how far he could go without his feet or hands touching the ground. Sometimes he made 20 feet.



Albert Ostman in 1977

Albert couldn't stop wondering what they wanted with him... Had he become their pet? Was he livestock?

He never once felt threatened, but still wondered how this ordeal was going to end. They surely must have known that he couldn't stay there indefinitely. Interestingly enough, the old man was coming closer and closer to Albert each day. He seemed very interested in Albert's can of snuff, and one morning after breakfast, the old man and the boy came over and sat down just ten feet away from Albert. He was making a pot of coffee, with shag and branches for kindling, and with a match, he ignited the labels from his cans to start the fire.

The coffee was brewed very strong and once it started boiling, it emitted a nice fog of aroma. Albert sat there eating his hard tack which was slathered heavily with butter and sipped his coffee. The old man and the boy continued to watch. Albert smacked his lips... Over dramatizing the effect of the taste of the food. He wanted his captors to really think that he was eating something delicious, and exaggerated this by rubbing his belly and smacking his lips. Albert actually enjoyed the curiosity of his captors.

He set his coffee down and pulled out his can of snuff. He took a small pinch - he only had two cans left - and before he could close the lid, the old man reached out for it. Not wanting to waste it, Albert held it out to him, allowing for him to take a pinch. Instead, the old man grabbed the entire can, and poured it into his mouth. Then, with his tongue, he licked the inside of the tin.

After a few minutes his eyes began to roll over in his head, he was looking straight up. I could see he was sick. Then he grabbed my coffee can that was quite cold by this time, he emptied that in his mouth, grounds and all. That did no good. He stuck his head between his legs and rolled forwards a few times away from me. Then he began to squeal like a stuck pig. I grabbed my rifle. I said to myself, "This is it. If he comes for me I will shoot him plumb between his eyes." But he started for the spring, he wanted water. I packed my sleeping bag in my pack sack with the few cans I had left. The young fellow ran over to his mother. Then she began to squeal. I started for the opening in the wall — and I just made it. The old lady was right behind me. I fired one shot at the rock over her head.

I guess she had never seen a rifle fired before. She turned and ran inside the wall. I injected another shell in the barrel of my rifle and started downhill, looking back over my shoulder every so often to see if they were coming. I was in a canyon, and good travelling and I made fast time. Must have made three miles in some world record time. I came to a turn in the canyon and I had the sun on my left, that meant I was going south, and the canyon turned west. I decided to climb the ridge ahead of me. I knew that I must have two mountain ridges between me and salt water and by climbing this ridge I would have a good view of this canyon, so I could see if the Sasquatch were coming after me. I had a light pack and was making good time up this hill. I stopped soon after to look back to where I came from, but nobody followed me. As I came over the ridge I could see Mt. Baker, then I knew I was going in the right direction.

I was hungry and tired. I opened my packsack to see what I had to eat. I decided to rest here for a while. I had a good view of the mountain side, and if the old man was coming I had the advantage because I was up above him. To get me he would have to come up a steep hill. And that might not be so easy after stopping a few 30-30 bullets. I had made up my mind this was my last chance, and this would be a fight to the finish ... I rested here for two hours. It was 3:00 p.m. when I started down the mountain side. It was nice going, not too steep and not too much underbrush.

When I got near the bottom, I shot a big blue grouse. She was sitting on a windfall, looking right at me, only a hundred feet away. I shot her neck right off.

I made it down the creek at the bottom of this canyon. I felt I was safe now. I made a fire between two big boulders, roasted the grouse. Next morning when I woke up, I was feeling terrible. My feet were sore from dirty socks. My legs were sore, my stomach was upset from that grouse that I ate the night before. I was not too sure I was going to make it up that mountain. I finally made the top, but it took me six hours to get there. It was cloudy, visibility about a mile.

I knew I had to go down hill. After about two hours I got down to the heavy timber and sat down to rest. I could hear a motor running hard at times, then stop. I listened to this for a while and decided the sound was from a gas donkey. Someone was logging in the neighborhood.

I told them I was a prospector and was lost ... I did not like to tell them I had been kidnapped by a Sasquatch, as if I had told them, they would probably have said, he is crazy too.

The following day I went down from this camp on Salmon Arm Branch of Sechelt Inlet. From there I got the Union Boat back to Vancouver. That was my last prospecting trip, and my only experience with what is known as Sasquatches.

(The italic portions are lifted from a conversation Albert had with author John Green. The story was later recounted in John Green's book, Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us.)

Now Playing: "The Amazing Bigfoot Diet" - Mojo Nixon 

Tuesday, April 28, 2026

Monsters, Metal, and Chilean Lore: A Conversation with Artist Claudio Bergamin

Heavy metal has always had a strange relationship with the unknown. Its imagery thrives in shadow - masked figures, foggy landscapes, ancient symbols, monsters, forgotten gods, and worlds that hover just outside the real. Album covers often become more than decoration; they act like portals into the mood and mythology of the music itself. Few artists understand that visual language better than Claudio Bergamin.

Known for his striking work across the metal world, Bergamin creates paintings that feel massive in scale and cinematic in tone. His artwork for bands like Judas Priest doesn’t simply illustrate songs - it builds entire universes around them. There’s movement in his work, a sense that something is happening just beyond the frame. 
Machines merge with mythology. Figures appear suspended between science fiction and ancient legend. The result feels both futuristic and timeless.

What makes Bergamin especially fascinating is how naturally his art overlaps with the kind of themes explored here on Blue Banana. His imagery often brushes against the unexplained. There are echoes of UFO lore, cryptid-like forms, spiritual symbolism, and dreamlike environments that seem to exist outside ordinary reality. 

His paintings invite questions rather than answers, which may be why they linger in the mind long after you’ve seen them.

Claudio Bergamin 


Growing up in Chile, Bergamin was surrounded by a culture rich with folklore, mysticism, and stories passed through generations. Those influences may not always appear directly, but they seem to live beneath the surface of his work. There’s a feeling that his art comes from somewhere deeper than simple imagination - as if he’s translating fragments of something already waiting to be discovered.

In this interview, we talk about the connection between heavy metal and visual storytelling, the strange pull of the paranormal, and how imagination, culture, and mystery collide inside the creative process.



You grew up in Chile - how did that environment shape the way you see monsters, mythology, and the unknown?

Interesting question. While South America doesn’t have Sasquatch, it certainly has its own rich tradition of mythological creatures and monster lore. I clearly remember my parents and relatives telling stories about strange creatures in southern Chile ever since I was a child. Many of these legends have ancient roots in the indigenous tribes that inhabited what is now Chile and Argentina long before the arrival of Spanish explorers. 

That said, we did experience a wave of Chupacabra sightings in northern Chile in the late 90s, particularly in the extremely arid desert region. Some witnesses described a bipedal creature that moved in an ape-like manner. I even personally met one witness who claimed to have seen a bizarre animal perched on top of a palm tree. According to him, it resembled a mandrill  - a species that is definitely not native to that area.

"Heavy Metal '84" Artwork by Claudio Bergamin


Do you think your visual style carries something from your roots, even when you’re painting futuristic or cosmic scenes?

I’m sorry to say no. I don’t want to come across as disloyal to my cultural heritage, but as a kid and later as a teenager, I simply wasn’t interested in the traditional artistic styles or subject matter of my homeland. All I cared about was fantasy and science fiction. At the time, the most celebrated Chilean art was heavily political, which really annoyed me. On top of that, the kind of work I was pursuing was often viewed as childish and superficial, arrogantly dismissed by professors and critics as a lesser form of art. “Oh that is just comic strips”. It is ironic that of all the people I met when I was in Art School back in the day, I am the only one currently working as a professional artist. I guess I am a stubborn guy.

Latin American folklore is full of strange creatures and legends - did any of those early stories stick with you and show up in your art later?

In my art? Not yet. But a few of those stories stand out in my mind and who knows, I might explore them one day. There’s an island in southern Chile called Chiloé, famous for its incredibly rich creature lore. That part of our culture truly fascinated me. 

In Chilote mythology of southern Chile, El Caleuche is a legendary ghost ship that sails the foggy canals of Chiloé. Appearing at night as a brilliantly lit white vessel filled with music and revelry, it is crewed by drowned sailors, witches, and demons. The magical ship can shapeshift, vanish instantly, or submerge underwater, luring victims with its enchanting lights and sounds. 

Also from Chilote mythology, El Trauco is a short, ugly dwarf-like creature who dwells deep in the forests. With no feet, a grotesque face, and a small stone axe, he uses his hypnotic gaze and breath to irresistibly seduce women, often impregnating them. Unexplained pregnancies in the region are traditionally blamed on encounters with this perverse forest spirit. 

From that same area La Pincoya is a beautiful sea spirit with long golden hair. She personifies the fertility of the ocean and dances on the beaches or in the waves. If she dances facing the sea, fishermen enjoy abundant catches; if she faces inland, seafood becomes scarce.

Another strange creature from Chiloé is the Imbunche. A horribly deformed guardian monster created by warlocks (brujos). According to the legend, it starts as a kidnapped baby whose body is ritually twisted: its head is rotated backwards, limbs are broken and contorted, and one arm is often inserted through a hole in its back so it appears to grow out from behind. It usually walks on one foot (with the other leg twisted behind it), making it a grotesque, crippled-looking being that guards the entrance to caves of sorcery. Alan Moore featured this character in his Swamp Thing series, published by DC Comics.

What was your gateway into heavy metal culture, and how did it fuse with your art style?

The artwork of the Heavy Metal world fascinated me just as much as the music itself. I remember spending hours at stores going through shelves and shelves of vinyl records, mesmerized by the incredible album covers created by legendary artists like Ken Kelly, Derek Riggs, and Roger Dean. That’s my earliest memory of Heavy Metal music.

My first rock heroes, however, were Queen. Their career spanned so many different styles, including heavy rock and metal, so when I started exploring heavier and faster music as a teenager, it felt like a natural progression.

Funnily enough, the high school friend who introduced me to Heavy Metal quickly grew out of it, but I’ll never forget the day he handed me Iron Maiden’s Piece of Mind. I became an instant fan. From there, I dove headfirst down the metal rabbit hole and discovered Judas Priest, Metallica, Mötley Crüe, W.A.S.P., Helloween, and Mercyful Fate. Bands that remain my favorites to this day.

As for how it all fused with my artistic style? It was simple. I had been obsessed with comic books since childhood, and many of those artists shared a very similar aesthetic to the bold, dramatic graphics of Heavy Metal album covers. Going from drawing cartoon and comic book characters as a kid to creating album art graphics as an adult felt completely natural to me.

The cover to Firepower by Judas Priest 


Describe the process in becoming the primary artist for Judas Priest cover art.

I had already been doing design work for Richie Faulkner before he even joined Judas Priest. After he became part of the band, I continued collaborating with him on various projects, including branding, his official guitar picks, and even an emblem for his stage outfit.

What many people don’t know is that I started proposing concepts to Judas Priest as early as the Redeemer of Souls era (2013), back when the album was still under the working title Metalizer. For that project, I created a series of sketches featuring cybernetic faces, though the band ultimately decided to go in a different direction.
That experience only strengthened my desire to bring Judas Priest’s aesthetic back to the iconic robotic creatures that Doug Johnson created in the 80s. So when the time came to pitch ideas for Firepower, which happened to be on a Friday, I already had a very clear vision in mind. Remarkably, Richie shared the same vision for the artwork, and we spent the entire weekend exchanging concepts and inspiration over text. By Monday morning, I had a finished sketch ready to present to the rest of the band, and by Monday evening, it was officially approved and given the green light.

Everything just seemed to fall into place perfectly. It was a truly fascinating experience.

Heavy metal has always embraced the epic, the dark, and the otherworldly - what drew you to that world as an artist?

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been into fantasy cartoons, comics, and anime ever since I was a little kid. Transitioning from that to the dramatic (and often horror-tinged) aesthetics of Heavy Metal felt completely natural to me. It was all part of my programming.

Your interest in UFOs and cryptids - what is it about those subjects that resonates with you personally?

I don’t know, it’s hard to say for sure. I was simply drawn to these subjects from a very early age. I clearly remember being fascinated by TV shows like “In Search of…” and “UFOs Are Real” when I was a kid. “Unsolved Mysteries” also had a few UFO episodes that caught my attention.

Since I was already so deeply into fantasy and science fiction as genres, discovering that there were real-life cases with that same fantastic quality felt completely irresistible to me. It’s also worth mentioning that my mom was into Erich von Däniken and J.J. Benítez back when these topics were still very fringe, especially in Chile, where almost no one was talking about them. I definitely have to give her credit for introducing me to so many of these “crazy” subjects early on.

Claudio created cover the art work for Lyle
Blackburn's book Beyond Boggy Creek.


Have you ever had a personal experience with anything unexplained? Did it influence your art?

Yes. I actually saw a ghost once, or to be more precise, a Shadow Entity. By that time, I was already deeply into high strangeness, cryptozoology, and ufology. All of it built up years later to the point where I felt compelled to start illustrating these topics in my own style, which is exactly what I did in 2016.

If you could create the ultimate album cover about a real-life paranormal event, which case would you choose?

Interesting question. Well, I have created a bunch of book covers for Paranormal authors and that is not that different from doing album covers. But I would say either the Roswell Crash or The Philadelphia Experiment.

Aliens land tomorrow and make contact with you - what’s the first Metal album you’re showing them?

Ha ha. You’re funny. It probably wouldn’t be a Heavy Metal album but maybe something prog rock, like “The Universal Migrator” by Ayreon.



You can explore more of Claudio Bergamin’s vivid and otherworldly creations through his online art store, where his signature blend of heavy metal imagery, fantasy, cryptids, and cosmic mystery comes to life in prints, originals, and collectible pieces. It’s a chance to step deeper into the visual universe that fuels both his imagination and his unmistakable artistic style.

                                          UFO Collection - Bergamin Art 
                                  Bigfoot Collection - Bergamin Art 
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Saturday, April 25, 2026

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Bigfoot lives near West Bend

 

- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigates it. -

Bigfoot lives near West Bend

But the costume is safely hidden from vigilante guns

By ART CULLEN

It was a dark, if not stormy, late July night 35 years ago when a nine-year-old girl from Ottosen in Kossuth County spotted a “short, hairy, ape-like animal with fangs and deep-set eyes” that stood in shadows a few inches away and growled.

Three nights later, the girl’s 11-year-old sister saw the same creature walking on Main Street in the village just east of West Bend on the Humboldt County line.

And in early August there were even more sightings of a short version — maybe five feet tall — of Sasquatch making grunting, squealing and whining noises.

By then the world’s media had swooped in on Ottosen. It already was a big story in Iowa.

“What she saw that night may have been Bigfoot, the beast rumored since July to be responsible for eerie night screams, broken fences, stampeded cattle, chewed-up cats, mangled rabbits and the death of a dog whose neck had been broken while it was chained near the home of its master. It — named or nameless, male or female or something biologically unknown — has been seen since. So have the terror and uncertainty,” wrote Steve Klaus in The Des Moines Register of the day.

Bigfoot was seen near Renwick in Humboldt County. It was seen near Boone and Atlantic and even in the dense woods of northeast Iowa.

“It was the biggest scam in the history of Iowa,” Jerome Kohlhaas, 62, told me at the bar of the Algona Country Club on Friday.

Kohlhaas knows who it was. The grin says it all.

And it was not a gorilla from the mists of the Cascade Mountains of the Pacific Northwest.

It was a farmboy from St. Joe, Iowa, a hamlet on Hwy. 169 halfway between Algona and Humboldt.

The costume is around somewhere, but nobody is saying where.

Mr. Bigfoot hung up the hair once the guns came out. Defenders of home and hearth took to the gravel roads along the East and West Forks of the Upper Des Moines River with shotguns in search of their trophy.

“When they started shooting, the outfit disappeared,” said Kohlhaas, a cropdusting pilot who figures he has survived 35 lives. He has rolled so many cars, crashed so many planes and otherwise engaged in a life of hail and harrow that it makes him wonder why others die and he prevails.

“I guess there’s a reason I’m still here,” he said.

The bartender is putting six-packs of bottled beer into the cooler. Someone bids for a drink. The bartender leaves the sixers on the bar and Kohlhaas tries to hand them to women he knows. He is a merry prankster 24/7.

He knows nothing of mangled cats or strangled dogs. He pretty much knows Bigfoot’s range around Ottosen. He does not know how I might contact Bigfoot.

A woman from New York once approached him about writing a book. Kohlhaas said he didn’t know what she was talking about. Then he stops:

“Hey, everybody! There’s food in the other room! Let’s go get it!” he proclaims to the crowd at the bar.

Everyone falls in line behind the Pied Piper.

My old college chum Walter Bradley from Algona has a pretty good idea who Bigfoot was. He about cracks a rib laughing over the phone.

“Somebody said they saw Bigfoot walking down a road when a truck drove by hauling a wagon. Bigfoot flew into the wagon at full speed,” Bradley recalled.

He is an old buddy of Kohlhaas. But he ain’t spilling much, other than to say that Bigfoot was not the missing link. Bigfoot is short and balding with a bit of a beer belly.

Most people knew the gig was up when a girl riding her bike in Ottosen saw Bigfoot and screamed. Parents came out of the house. They searched near a shed. Someone heard a man’s voice say, “Anybody know what time it is?”

Nobody had a notion where the voice came from. Sasquatch speaks! The kids all scattered for safety.

And he was never heard from again.

But he is still out there. Eternally a teenager. A wise-guy smile etched on his lips at all times. And alive to tell about it.

Someday someone will out him. Maybe Jerome Kohlhaas will be the one with the courage to lift the veil of hair and rubber.

But probably not, so long as people still chase the legend. There’s even a TV show about Bigfoot sightings. Kohlhaas is one to savor a scam over letting it just end so cleanly. He just might like a TV cameo.


Storm Lake Times Pilot - February 25, 2014 

Saturday, April 18, 2026

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Iowa's 'Big Foot' - the 'Canton Creep'

- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigates it. -

Iowa's 'Big Foot' - the 'Canton Creep' 


Hawkeye hoorahs!

Those reports of an elusive nocturnal creature seen lumbering around northwest Iowa are no mystery to a West Liberty Index columnist. One Don Ehl claims the beast, dubbed “Big Foot,” is none other than the “Canton Creep.”

Ehl says a decade ago a night creature strikingly similar to this year’s ape-imposter was seen roaming around Canton administering doses of terror in that timber-camouflaged community along the Maquoketa River.

So, reasons Ehl, the Creep — not to be upstaged by a born-again president, a thrice reincarnated heavyweight boxing champion, or the Hulk — has emerged for a second coming under the alias of “Big Foot.”

The writer recalled one memorable incident from the beast’s youthful days. A romantic young couple, out for an evening stroll, decided to explore the Maquoketa Caves. Inside a dark cavern, the boy lovingly grabbed for his girl’s hand.

Finding the palm cold and clammy, the boy slowly reached out with his other hand, groping for reassurance.

What he came up with, though, was a not-so-feminine cluster of hair — which prompted him to set a new record for the 100-meter dash in exiting the cave. In his haste he neglected one minor detail. Behind him was his girlfriend, left to fend for herself.

Oh, his girl later said she neither saw, heard, nor felt any evil lurking in the cave.

In perhaps one of the better ideas since ex-President Gerald Ford’s aborted Whip Inflation Now (WIN) program, Ehl concluded with the suggestion that West Liberty recruit “Big Foot” as a tourist attraction in order to beef up its economy.

Or, if that should fail, footnotes Ehl, the possibility of running “Foot” as a third party candidate for city council exists, bad press notwithstanding. 

Popular pits

That same edition of the Index dredged up a tidbit from 60 years ago, which offered a bargain that might be quite popular in 1978’s inflation wars.

In the midst of World War I, residents were asked to donate a variety of fruit pits and nutshells, all necessary ingredients in manufacturing charcoal to be used in gas masks.

Peaches were a much-in-demand treat in those days. That was because the pits could be substituted for money to gain Saturday afternoon admission to the town’s movies at Grand Theater.

A burning question

News from the Mapleton Press lends more cannon fodder to the tax revolt cavalry. Robert Lyon, in a recent column, called attention to a U.S. Department of Agriculture study that carried a price tag of $45,000. Its top-priority purpose, in the interest of national security: Determine how long it takes to cook breakfast.

If the USDA extended the research to lunch and dinner, it will cost a mere $160,000, Lyon added.

But he dug up the reason researchers required such a long time and long bucks to complete their task. It seems government whiz-kids were stymied by the burning question of how long it takes to cook a three-minute egg, Lyon writes.

— D. Vance Hawthorne
Don’t miss Hawkeye hoorahs! every Saturday and Sunday in your Des Moines Register.

Des Moines Register Nov. 5, 1978

Wednesday, April 15, 2026

From the Forest to the Moon: Bigfoot on Artemis II


Somewhere between ancient forests and the vacuum of space, a familiar legend quietly crossed a new boundary.

When Jeremy Hansen of the Canadian Space Agency prepared for the Artemis II mission - a journey that carried humans around the Moon - he didn’t just bring science with him. He brought a story.

At the center of his mission patch, designed by Anishinaabe artist Henry Guimond, are the Seven Sacred Laws - teachings carried through generations. Each animal represents a human truth: respect, love, courage, wisdom, humility, truth…

And one stands apart. Sasquatch.

Not as a creature lurking in the woods, but as Sabe - a figure of honesty. A reminder to walk through the world with integrity, even when no one is watching.


It’s a strange kind of symmetry. For decades, Sasquatch has lived at the edge of belief - half myth, half possibility. His existence is one that people argue over, search for, dismiss, and defend. His presence is based on heresy. He lives in the Upside Down,  just outside of what's known to be real. 

Now he's ridden alongside humanity as we pushed into another unknown.

Space is our newest wilderness. It's full of questions we don’t yet have the language to ask. Because of that, Sasquatch fits there so well.

It's a quiet acknowledgment that even as we leave Earth, we carry our oldest ideas with us - the stories that taught us who we are long before rockets ever left the ground. 

On a mission defined by propulsion, mathematic precision and engineering, there’s something comforting about knowing that the symbolic presence of Bigfoot, a legend lifted out of the forest, has voyaged to the Moon. 

Friday, April 10, 2026

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Ape-Like 'Creature' Scaring Ottosen


- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigate it. -


Ape-like 'creature' scaring Ottosen

By Dave Brown

Original article in Des Moines Register



A shaggy, ape-like creature has scared the daylights out of some residents of the tiny Humboldt County community of Ottosen in the last week.

Sheriff Marvin Andersen said a group of men looked for the creature Monday night and Tuesday night. The only trace that has been found of it, he said, are foot-prints with three toes in front and one in back.

"What it is, I don't know," Andersen said Wednesday. "I don't know what to think."

He said several Ottosen residents have reported sighting the creature. It has been described as about five feet tall, with dark and shaggy fur, piercing, deep-set eyes, long arms and thick legs.

If it is a hoax, the sheriff said, the prankster could be in danger if he returned, because he believes some Ottosen residents are keeping guns ready.

"These people are mad enough so it would be pretty dangerous now to go up there and try to pull a trick," he said.

The creature was first spotted last Thursday night by Donette Hankins, her mother, Jan, said Wednesday.

Hankins said her nine-year-old "got a real good look at it" that night, and came in the house looking "like death warmed over."

Sunday night, her oldest daughter, Dawn, 11, was riding her bike after dark when she came face-to-face with the creature, her mother said.

"She came back in screaming. She was in hysterics," Hankins said.

She said she and a relative went outside to see what had scared the girl. The two adults saw something "staring out at us" from behind a vacant building.

"It looked like an ape," she said. "I'm convinced there's something here." Asked if it could have been a person in a costume, she said, "the face was too real. There was nothing artificial about it."

Monday, shortly after noon, three Ottosen boys, aged 10 to 12, also saw the creature, according to Mrs. Gary Masters. Masters was the first resident to report the sightings to the sheriff's office. She would not identify the three boys.

She said she called the sheriff "to see if anyone had lost a monkey."

The sheriff said he has checked to see whether any circus or carnival animals have been reported missing recently, and has contacted the 165 conservation commission for advice.

He said the three boys who saw the creature Monday reported it dropped down on all four legs when it an away from them.

The sheriff said some residents "afraid to go out at night."

Hankins said her oldest daughter "still wakes up at night" because the experience.

"If it is a hoax, we'd like to stop because it just isn't funny," she added.


Des Moines TribuneAugust 2, 1978

Iowa Bigfoot Newspaper Project: Bigfoot Phenomenon is Very Much Alive in Iowa


- There have been several newspaper accounts of Bigfoot sightings in Iowa throughout the decades and by all accounts, they have been lost to time. As I find them, I will transcribe and post them here, for easy viewing. These articles paint a fascinating picture of historic Iowa Lore and the people who investigate it. -


Bigfoot phenomenon is very much alive in Iowa

By STEVEN KLAUS / Map by STAN KLUENDER


The original article from the Des Moines Register


During the past three months Iowans have heard a lot about Bigfoot, the legendary, ape-like creature purported to roam the countryside at night in search of food.

Some of the stories were generated by Bigfoot sightings reported in July and September near the small town of Ottosen, where several Humboldt County residents said they either saw Bigfoot or heard strange screams in the night.
Many dismiss Bigfoot as a myth. Others, who believe there is a Bigfoot, Yeti or Sasquatch that occupies a place between man and ape, argue the creature lives only in the Northwest and could not possibly survive in the Midwest.

Nevertheless, the Bigfoot phenomenon — whether fact, fiction or hoax — is very much alive in Iowa.

Since last January, Bigfoot has been reported near at least 10 Iowa communities.
Deeds attributed to Bigfoot range from a pile of dead chickens found near the Mitchell County town of Riceville to the dark face that peered at a woman through the kitchen window of a farm home near Ottosen.

There is even one unsubstantiated report from a Sioux City research group that a man wounded a Bigfoot with a deer rifle in 1974 near Stone State Park, on the northwest edge of Sioux City.

In every case, authorities have been unable to establish conclusively that Bigfoot exists. Yet they have not completely accepted other explanations for the events.
Some law officers, like Humboldt County Sheriff Marvin Andersen, are just relieved when the Bigfoot phenomenon moves out of their area.
Andersen, who spent a good part of three months chasing down Bigfoot reports near Ottosen, said last week, “We haven’t had anything now for about three weeks.”

Andersen said he never was able to draw any conclusions from the reports. “I still feel like these people definitely saw something but I don’t know what,” he said.

That was also the opinion of Iowa Conservation Officer Bill Basler of Algona, who talked to some of the people involved with the Ottosen sightings.

“I believe, too, that these people are seeing something, but I don’t know yet just what it is,” Basler said.

Most of the Bigfoot incidents reported in Iowa during the past year have been investigated by members of the Bigfoot Information Center, a group of Bigfoot enthusiasts who joined together last summer under the direction of Kevin Cook, 25, of Des Moines.

The center currently has four members, including Cook, who are collecting data on each new sighting. Cook and his crew believe there are small groups of Bigfeet or Bigfeet traveling by night through the Midwest, generally following the Missouri and Mississippi River basins.

Since last winter, they have checked out Bigfoot reports near Moulton, Harvey, Oskaloosa, Chariton, Clarion, West Bend, Humboldt, Hardy and, of course, Ottosen.

Cook expects more sightings this winter. "Because of the snowfall people don’t want to set tracks, and there’s not the vegetation in the winter as in the spring and fall so the tracks are a lot more visible,” Cook said.

He also is betting that some reports will come from hunters and snowmobilers, especially in the heavily wooded regions of southern Iowa, where the Bigfoot phenomenon has flared up in the past.

Several Bigfoot reports were logged last winter in south-central Iowa, and a sighting was reported in the fall of 1975 near the Jefferson County town of Lockridge in southeast Iowa. At that time, at least three persons said they saw a large, ape-like creature in the Turkey Creek area.

The following is a summary of Bigfoot incidents that have been reported in Iowa since last January:

OSKALOOSA
Matt Ver Steeg of Knoxville, a member of the Bigfoot Information Center, checked a report around Jan. 1 that a woman who lives northeast of Oskaloosa near the Skunk River had seen a Bigfoot. Cook and others showed her the drawing of a heavy snowstorm. She described the creature as weighing 600 to 700 pounds and standing 8 to 10 feet tall. A few days later, another resident in that area heard unusual noises and found strange tracks in his yard.

HARVEY
Around Feb. 20 some residents of Harvey, a Marion County town near the Des Moines River, reported strange howls and tracks in the snow on the edge of town. Ver Steeg visited the area after a 14-inch snowstorm and found tracks that were 20 inches long, 9 inches wide and had a five-toed stride. He followed the tracks in a snowmobile for several miles. “It looked like the creature was moving cautiously the way the tracks were because of the zigzagging,” Ver Steeg said. Deputy Sheriff Dick Gilman said that after analyzing some hair on a fence, authorities concluded the creature was a cow. But Ver Steeg contends a cow could not have made those tracks and set such a pace.

PELLA
Around Feb. 25, Ver Steeg was summoned to the old Pella Bridge, which crosses the Des Moines River a few miles north of Harvey, to investigate a report that a 10- or 11-year-old boy had seen Bigfoot on the road near the bridge. The boy said the creature had stopped to look at him, then disappeared into the woods. Ver Steeg followed tracks into the woods but they filled in with new snow and it was impossible to make any kind of determination. Ver Steeg said the boy was frightened and would not leave the house for several days.

CHARITON
Throughout the year, Ver Steeg and Cook have received numerous reports of sightings and strange sounds in a section of Stephens State Forest a few miles northeast of Chariton, in Lucas County. The sightings have never been verified.

MOULTON
Two Moulton-Udell High School students reported seeing a creature about 10:30 p.m. Aug. 28 on a dirt road in a remote area south of Moulton known as Dean Bottoms. They said it was 7 to 8 feet tall and weighed about 400 pounds. The next day their science teacher accompanied them to the area, where he found a footprint about 14 inches long with three toe impressions, some corn that had been stripped clean down to the cob, and an area where some brush had been trampled. Gary Hagler of Des Moines, a member of the Bigfoot center, visited the area and confirmed those findings.

OTTOSEN
In all, nearly a dozen persons reported seeing a Bigfoot-like creature in the Ottosen area from July through the middle of September. This case received the most publicity of any sighting. There were reports that Bigfoot was seen in town on at least three occasions and in the countryside twice. Farmers in the area also said they were awakened at night by strange sounds made by something that left farm dogs terrified. There were reports of mutilated animals, strange footprints and stampeding cattle.

WEST BEND
During the period of the Ottosen sightings, a fisherman found about two dozen footprints along a bridge over the west branch of the Des Moines River near West Bend. Plaster casts were made of the tracks, which were 16 inches long and 6 inches wide.

HUMBOLDT
In mid-September, a family that lives about three miles northeast of Humboldt reported that something released strange howls while moving through a ravine near their home at midnight. The creature followed the woods to within a few yards of the home. The sound — a hoarse howl — was so loud that Sheriff Andersen could hear it through the telephone when the family called him. Andersen visited the area the next morning and found places where brush had been trampled but no tracks.

HARDY
A few days later, a 16-year-old boy told authorities he saw a Bigfoot-like creature near dike in a Beanfield on a farm near the Humboldt County town of Hardy. He said he scared the creature off by honking the horn and flashing the lights of a pickup. The next day, Sheriff Andersen visited the field and found footprints that looked odd. Ken Taylor of Iowa Falls, another member of the Bigfoot center, looked into that report but was not convinced it was a legitimate sighting.

CLARION
In early October, a Clarion woman told police that a dark image had peered through her kitchen window about 10:30 one night. The window, at the rear of the house, is seven feet off the ground. The next afternoon, police officers obtained a plaster cast of one unusual track in the backyard. Clarion is the seat of Wright County, which is adjacent to Humboldt County, where the Ottosen sighting occurred. The Bigfoot center’s Hagler and Taylor looked into the sighting and determined someone could have been perpetrating a hoax. They reported that the impressions they found were of right feet only.


Des Moines Sunday Register — November 12, 1978

Friday, April 3, 2026

Iowa Lore: The Legend of The Metz Mud Monster

There are places in Iowa that look ordinary in daylight - stretches of gravel road, quiet creeks, rustling trees bending with the wind. Places you could drive past a hundred times and never think twice about.

Metz Bridge is one of those places.

Located just southwest of the small farming community of Metz in Jasper County, the bridge crosses the South Skunk River among trees, ditches and cornfields. By day, it feels harmless. But once night falls, locals say the air changes. The silence deepens. And the stories begin.




For generations, people have claimed that something lurks beneath that bridge - something the locals call the Mud Monster - a figure tied to tragedy, rumor, and the uneasy feeling that certain places remember things long after people forget.

According to local legend, the story began with an accident many decades ago. Some versions claim a vehicle slid into the muddy creek during a storm and the body was never recovered. Others insist the tale was invented simply to keep teenagers from gathering there after dark. The story I remember hearing from high school was that the Mud Monster was actually the murderous father from the Baby House - a place a few miles north with haunted legends of its own. According to the tale, he murdered his entire family, including his infants, then fled to the river bottoms, where he disappeared into the mud and shadows, starting a new life hidden from the world. Either way, the legend took root: a restless presence lingering beneath the bridge, watching anyone who lingered too long. 

The town itself breathes eerily among the fields and railroad tracks. A  gothic cemetery sits on the hill overlooking the town almost as if to stand guard or, maybe more menacingly, to pose a warning. One tombstone is rumored to glow at night. People have reported that late at night the silhouettes of trees take on the shape of giant dragons as they're met with the brightness of headlights, giant maw agape, ready to devour the vehicle as it drives underneath.

Older residents rarely tell the story directly. Instead, they give warnings disguised as jokes. “Nothing good happens at Metz after midnight.”

The road leading to the Metz bridge narrows as corn closes in from both sides. Headlights stretch long shadows across the side rails of the bridge. The river below moves slowly, almost silently, carrying the smell of damp earth and algae. Many who visit describe the same sensation - not fear at first, but awareness. The unmistakable feeling of being watched. 

Or worse. 

One Newton lady named S.K., tells a story of when she was in high school during the '60s. She and her boyfriend drove out to the bridge to get away from society for awhile. She said that just as things were beginning to get steamy in the back seat, something lifted up the back end of the car and dropped it. She said it only took a couple seconds for her boyfriend to get himself together, start the car and get the hell out of there. 

In the fall of 2014, a Colfax resident named Larry visited the bridge, hoping to encounter something out of the ordinary. Alone in the dark, he called into the night, asking for a sign. Moments later, faint movement stirred at the far end of the bridge -followed by a sudden splash below. When he looked down, the water was perfectly still. He walked away uncertain, wondering if he had brushed against the supernatural or simply disturbed the silence of a place too quiet for comfort.

But others tell stories far harder to dismiss.

A woman named Dorothy recalls walking on the gravel road late one night near the Drive-In (3.5 miles north of Metz). She described seeing something standing motionless at the top of a hill overlooking the road. At first she assumed it was a tree or a trick of shadow -  until it moved.

She later said the figure appeared impossibly tall, towering above anything natural nearby. "It had to be 12 foot tall," she said.  When she turned back to look again, the shape bent downward and dropped onto all fours before sprinting into the darkness with unnatural speed. 

She ran without stopping, convinced something had nearly followed her home. "I know what I saw," she said. 

Stories like hers spread quietly and slowly through nearby towns - Newton, Colfax, Prairie City - rarely written down, mostly shared between friends or told during late-night drives when someone inevitably suggests visiting the bridge. The Metz bridge has long been a traditional Halloween night time stop. 

Over time, whatever it is that lurks in the area gained a name.




Some say it's a ghost. Others believe it is a feral hermit who lives along the creek. Some said it was a Bigfoot type creature that would leave footprints in the muddy fields or the snow. And others believe it is a murderous father who lives in the muddy river bottoms, hiding to escape going to prison. All of these things are the Metz Mud Monster - a figure half-human, covered in mud, emerging from beneath the structure to keep an eye on passing cars.

Descriptions vary, but certain details repeat again and again: Footsteps echoing when no one else is present, something splashing through the shallow river, unseen in the darkness. Or, a sudden silence where insects and frogs should be loudest. Or maybe most frighteningly, a tall silhouette standing where no one should be.

Folklore experts often note that rural bridges become natural centers for ghost stories because they cross boundaries - between towns, between safety and wilderness, between the familiar and the unknown. Across Iowa, many haunted legends are tied to bridges where tragedy or isolation left a lasting impression on local memory. 

Metz Bridge simply became Jasper County’s version of that ancient myth.

Metz itself is a nearly forgotten railroad community founded in the late 1800s, once home to stores, coal depots, and a small but active population before slowly fading into quiet rural life. Perhaps that fading history adds to the legend. Places that shrink often leave behind stories larger than the towns themselves.




Today, visitors still drive out to the bridge seeking proof. Most leave with nothing more than photographs and nervous laughter.

But a few describe hearing footsteps splashing beneath them while standing alone. Others claim to see movement just beyond the headlights - a shape that disappears the moment attention focuses on it.

No evidence has ever confirmed the Mud man’s existence. Even believers admit the stories may be exaggerations, misunderstandings, or fear amplified by darkness, isolation and the power of thought. And yet the legend survives.

Because legends do not need proof. They only need one person to feel watched… and another willing to listen.

If you visit Metz Bridge after sunset, you will likely find nothing unusual. The creek will flow quietly. The wind will move through the trees. The night will feel like any other Iowa night. But stand there long enough - long enough for the sounds of civilization to fade - and you may notice something else.

A stillness. A pause in the world around you.

And the uneasy thought that someone, or something, is standing just below the bridge… waiting for you to leave.