Wyoming County Researchers Document Sasquatch Sightings and Mountain Lore

There's something special happening in the hills of West Virginia, and if you've been following the work over at Small Town Monsters, you already know they've been digging deep into the Mountain State Sasquatch phenomenon. Their ongoing series exploring Appalachian encounters continues to uncover stories that have been passed down through generations, and the latest piece is an absolute treasure trove of eyewitness testimony from folks who call Wyoming County home. The focus lands on a place called Wineberry, deep in the heart of West Virginia, where researcher Beth Duncan has been documenting activity around her property for years. Beth's connection to these elusive residents runs deep, and her approach is refreshingly respectful. She talks about them like neighbors, almost, describing how they'll come up and smack the house before running off, comparing it to kids playing ding-dong ditch. There's no malice in their behavior, she insists, just curiosity and playfulness. What really stands out is Beth's gifting station. She leaves offerings for them, and they've reciprocated. She's collected shirt nodules, arrowheads, and other small tokens left behind. This kind of reciprocal relationship echoes what many researchers have reported across the country, the idea that Sasquatch are not just animals roaming the woods but intelligent beings who interact with humans in meaningful ways when given the chance. Beth mentions her grandfather was pushed down a mountain by something with two hands on his shoulders while fox hunting, and her family always referred to them as "mountain boogers" or "old men of the mountains." These old Appalachian nicknames carry weight, passed down through generations of people who knew these woods intimately. The seasonal pattern Beth describes is fascinating too. Activity ramps up significantly from April through August, then slows during winter months before picking back up in spring. This aligns with what many researchers have noted about Sasquatch behavior, possibly tied to food availability, breeding patterns, or simply the fact that warmer months bring more people into the outdoors, increasing the chances of encounters. Beth also mentions finding 16.5 to 18-inch footprints with what she calls "mid brakes," likely referring to dermal ridges, the textured skin patterns that some footprint casts have revealed, suggesting these aren't just large feet but anatomically complex ones. Then there's David Allen Stover, better known as Bugs, who shares his extensive knowledge of local lore. He's collected dozens of stories over the years and had several experiences of his own. He introduces the concept of the "Poke," short for Pokeholler Monster, a regional name for the creature that's been part of Wyoming County folklore for generations. According to the stories he's gathered, these beings stand anywhere from 8 to 14 feet tall, with eyes that glow red and skin that's grayish-white. The variation in reported height is interesting, and it mirrors the broader Sasquatch research where eyewitness estimates often vary wildly, though some researchers suggest this could be due to different sub-populations or simply the difficulty of estimating size in low-light, high-stress situations. Bugs shares a remarkable story from 1942 about a young man from Glen Rogers, the same area that produced West Virginia's only governor from Wyoming County. The tale involves a biology student teacher named Bobby Seismore whose brother had reportedly seen the creature, and a group of college freshmen who decided to spend Christmas break building a massive lean-to on top of the mountain near Poke Gap to search for it themselves. During one of the worst winters in North American history, with snow drifts reaching their armpits, they drove up to the site and had a man step directly in front of their car. The encounter that followed is the kind of story that makes you lean in closer. The Poke Gap area itself carries significant weight in West Virginia Sasquatch lore. The old railroad tunnels in the region, some abandoned and out of commission, stay 10 to 15 degrees cooler than the outside air, making them potential shelter for wildlife, including Sasquatch. The Appalachian region has long been a hotspot for sightings, with its dense forests, remote hollows, and rich oral traditions preserving these accounts for centuries. Small Town Monsters has built a reputation for treating these subjects with the seriousness they deserve, and their Mountain State Monsters series is a must-watch for anyone interested in the cultural and historical context of Sasquatch encounters. The way they let witnesses tell their own stories, without sensationalism or dismissal, is exactly what this field needs more of. If you haven't checked out their work yet, do yourself a favor and dive into their channel. The Wineberry stories are just the beginning of what promises to be an ongoing exploration of West Virginia's wildest mysteries.