Loretta Ross Reveals Bigfoot Visits at Mother's Remote Washington Homestead
Posted Thursday, August 06, 2026
By Squatchable.com staff
There's a story circulating on YouTube right now that stopped me in my tracks, and I think anyone who has ever spent time in Sasquatch country will feel the same way. It comes from the channel Bigfoot Hidden Evidence, and it is one of the most quietly haunting accounts of a long-term relationship between a human and a Bigfoot that I have ever come across.
The storyteller is Loretta Ross, a woman who grew up in the Methow Valley of North Central Washington, a long narrow valley most people outside the Pacific Northwest could not find on a map. She runs a small vacation rental management business out of Winthrop now, but her roots run deep up the Twist River Road, about eleven miles past where the pavement ends. That is where her parents bought twenty-two acres of mixed timber and old orchard ground back in 1972, and that is where her mother, Mildred, known to everyone as Millie, lived alone for thirty-five years after her husband Harold died of a heart attack in the summer of 1982.
Millie was the kind of woman who kept going. She did not sell the property. She did not move to town. She stayed on that land where the Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forest started at the back fence and the Twist River ran loud enough in spring runoff that you had to raise your voice on the porch. She learned to drive a snowmobile so she could reach Twisp when the road closed. She kept a two-week emergency supply of food and medication as a matter of habit. She maintained the woodshed with the same regularity she maintained everything else in her life.
The part that matters to anyone interested in Sasquatch is what Millie did on that porch at night, and what came back to it after she was gone.
Loretta eventually moved her mother into a memory care facility in Winthrop. Millie took almost nothing with her. No china, no photo albums, no seed packets. Just her medication, her Bible, and a small leather journal she tucked at the bottom of her overnight bag before anyone could see what it was. Three months later, when that bag tipped off the bed and spilled onto the linoleum, the aide who picked it all up handed the journal back without opening it. Millie pressed it to her chest with both hands and stared at the wall. Loretta watched that moment from the doorway and filed it away. She did not understand what it meant for another four months.
Not until the evening she drove back up that road alone and found evidence that something had been coming to her mother's porch every single night since they had taken her away.
The video goes deep into the family history, the landscape, and the texture of a life lived at the edge of the wilderness. It is worth watching for the setting alone if you have ever spent time in the Methow or anywhere like it. The way Loretta describes the larch color in October, the elk coming down in November, the river running high and green in May, it is the kind of place where Sasquatch has always had room to operate, and where old-timers have always had stories they do not usually tell outsiders.
What makes this account different from the usual run of sightings is the long duration and the apparent attachment. This was not a glimpse across a clearing or a set of tracks found the next morning. This was a creature that had been fed, that had come to a specific porch on a specific piece of land for what sounds like decades, and that kept showing up after the person who had been feeding it was no longer there. That is the detail that lingers.
The video runs long and Loretta takes her time with it, which fits the subject. There is a lot of family history before she gets to the porch evidence, and the payoff is worth sitting through. If you have any connection to the Methow Valley, or to the broader culture of people in remote parts of the Cascades who have quietly coexisted with something in the woods for generations, this one is going to hit you somewhere personal.
Go watch it. Then come back and tell me what you think was in that journal.