The 1924 Ape Canyon Incident

The 1924 Ape Canyon Incident

The 1924 Ape Canyon Incident: Bigfoot, Bullets, and a Forgotten Cabin in the Woods

High on the southeastern slope of Mount St. Helens, long before the volcano made global headlines in 1980, five gold miners huddled in a log cabin during a long, terrifying night. What they claimed happened there became one of the earliest and most ferocious Bigfoot stories ever recorded—a siege, not a sighting.

Rocks were thrown. Rifles were fired. Something climbed on the roof.

The newspapers called them “ape-men.” The locals whispered “mountain devils.” And the press frenzy that followed helped give a new name to the steep gorge nearby: Ape Canyon.

Was it mass hysteria? A hoax? Or a genuine close encounter with a tribe of Sasquatch?

A century later, we’re still asking those questions—and thanks to firsthand accounts, newspaper archives, and modern field discoveries, the mystery is as alive today as it was in July 1924.

A bearded prospector in overalls kneels on a dirt trail, examining a large humanoid footprint believed to be from Bigfoot.

👣 Strange Tracks and Stranger Sounds

The five miners—Fred Beck, Marion Smith, Roy Smith, Gabe Lefever, and John Peterson—were working a remote gold claim known as Vander White. The area was rugged, forested, and practically inaccessible, even by 1920s standards.

According to Beck, things started to feel strange early on.

Each evening, the men heard what Beck later called “a shrill, peculiar whistling” from ridge to ridge—along with thumping noises like something beating on its chest. Then they found footprints.

Not just any tracks. Barefoot prints measuring up to 19 inches long, spaced too far apart for a man or a bear. Something upright had walked through that forest, and whatever it was, it was huge.

Miner aiming rifle at Bigfoot in forest at night with large footprint in foreground during Ape Canyon encounter.

🔫 A Shot in the Woods

Then came the moment that triggered the attack.

One afternoon, Beck and fellow miner “Hank” (Marion Smith) spotted a large, upright creature near a pine tree. Covered in dark hair, it stood around seven feet tall. When it poked its head out from behind the tree, Hank fired three shots.

The creature ran off.

That night, the men decided to stay locked in the cabin until morning—and then leave the claim for good.

But something else had plans for them.

Three miners inside a log cabin cautiously watch several Bigfoot-like figures approaching in the moonlit forest.🪓 The Siege at Ape Canyon

Around midnight, the cabin shook from a massive impact. The men were jolted awake as something heavy slammed into the outer wall.

Then came more blows. And rocks. Dozens of them pelting the roof and crashing onto the porch.

The miners peered through the gaps in the log walls. Outside, in the moonlight, they saw them: large, hairy, humanoid figures moving through the trees. At one point, a creature reached into the cabin to grab an axe, barely missing one of the men.

The miners opened fire. Beck later described it as “round after round through the roof” as the creatures climbed onto it.

They braced the door. Something pushed from the other side.

In the middle of the chaos, Hank started to sing—“If you leave us alone, we’ll leave you alone, and we’ll all go home in the morning.” He thought maybe the “mountain devils” would understand.

Whether they did or not, the attack eventually stopped. But not before it etched itself into Northwest legend.

Miner aiming rifle at Bigfoot across canyon during 1924 Ape Canyon incident at Mount St. Helens.📍 One Last Shot

As dawn broke and the forest finally fell silent, Beck stepped outside and saw a figure standing at the edge of the canyon.

He fired.

The creature, he said, toppled into the gorge below—a drop of several hundred feet.

The miners didn’t wait to check. They abandoned their supplies—nearly $200 worth of tools—and made a beeline for civilization.

Their first stop was a ranger station at Spirit Lake, where they shared the story with a bemused U.S. Forest Service official. From there, they returned to Kelso, Washington, hoping to forget the whole ordeal.

They didn’t get the chance.

Vintage newspaper headlines about the Great Ape Hunt of 1924 and miners’ reported Bigfoot encounter.🗞️ When the Press Got Hold of It

It only took a few days for the story to explode.

Newspapers across the Northwest (and then across the country) ran with headlines like:

“Fight With Big Apes Reported By Miners”
“Mountain Devils Bombard Prospectors’ Cabin”
“Gorilla Men Terrorize Gold Claim”

One article claimed the attack lasted three days, and some reports suggested the men fought off a “cordon of thirty gorillas.”

Curiosity-seekers, journalists, and even armed hunting parties swarmed the mountain. One visitor reportedly brought an elephant gun. Another came from England hoping to bag a “mountain devil.”

The press dubbed it “The Great Ape Hunt of 1924.”

Stylized Indigenous artwork of Bigfoot, inspired by Pacific Northwest tribal design and traditional symbolism👻 Occult Rumors and Native Lore

Not everyone believed the story.

Some newspapers mocked the miners, noting they were known spiritualists who held séances in the woods. The Eugene Daily Guard dismissed their tale as a “bear encounter seen through the fog of mysticism.”

But others made cultural connections.

On July 16, The Oregonian published a striking article by J.W.G. “Jorg” Totsgi, a Klallam tribe member and editor, who speculated the attackers were not apes at all, but members of the Seeahtik—a legendary race of wild, hairy giants from local Indigenous traditions.

These beings were said to be seven to eight feet tall, covered in hair, and capable of hypnosis and vanishing without a trace. If you killed one, the legends warned, the rest might come for revenge.

Chilling stuff… especially if Beck’s shot at the canyon rim really landed.

Two early 20th-century forest rangers point at a large footprint outside a log cabin, suspected to belong to Bigfoot.🔍 The Forest Service Gets Involved

Two rangers—J.H. Huffman and William Welch—were sent to investigate.

They found a few oversized footprints, but Huffman showed reporters how he could create similar ones with his fist and knuckles pressed into the soft pumice.

As for the cabin? The rangers said it showed no serious damage. Rocks were present, but nothing conclusive. No blood. No body in the canyon. No solid proof.

Welch privately noted that “these same men had returned from the mountains with similar stories before.”

In the eyes of the Forest Service, it was a closed case. No apes. No follow-up. Move along.

A decaying, moss-covered log cabin in the forest, believed to be the site of the 1924 Ape Canyon Bigfoot encounter🏚️ Decades Later, the Cabin Resurfaces

After the press frenzy died down, the cabin site fell into obscurity. Mount St. Helens eventually erupted in 1980, changing the landscape dramatically. Many assumed the cabin—if it still existed—was buried under ash and rock.

Enter Marc Myrsell, a determined researcher from Washington.

In the 2010s, Myrsell and his team began hunting for the long-lost cabin site using old maps, journals, and trail notes. They knew the area was remote—accessible only by a grueling 6-mile hike followed by a treacherous off-trail descent.

In July 2013, they hit paydirt.

Under layers of moss and pumice, they uncovered:

  • - Square nails

  • - Rusted wire

  • - A bent spoon

  • - Old stovepipe fragments

  • -A horizontal log with nails still driven into it

They’d found it—the original 1924 cabin site. The pieces lined up with the historical accounts almost perfectly.

No Bigfoot remains, no blood. But the story’s physical setting was real.

And buried among the artifacts were spent rifle cartridges, exactly as Beck described.

🧠 So… Was It Real?

Let’s break it down.

What supports the story:

  • Beck and the others never retracted their claims.

  • They abandoned a valuable gold claim and never returned.

  • Their account includes highly specific details, like whistling communication and an attempted axe grab.

  • Native American lore supports the concept of hairy forest-dwelling beings.

  • Myrsell’s 2013 findings confirm the cabin existed and that something intense happened there.

What doesn’t:

  • No physical evidence of the creatures (hair, bones, etc.).

  • Official rangers found no definitive proof.

  • The miners were into spiritualism, which casts doubt for some.

  • No photos, no corroborating witnesses outside the group.

🧭 The Legend Lives On

The Ape Canyon incident sits right on the line between folklore and fact. It's one of the earliest, most violent, and best-documented cryptid encounters in U.S. history. And while we may never know exactly what happened that night, the story left deep tracks.

Literally.

Thanks to Fred Beck’s writings, 1924 news archives, and modern field investigations, the legend of Ape Canyon has gone from forgotten oddity to cornerstone of Pacific Northwest Bigfoot lore.

And if you ever hike near that canyon? Don’t worry about mountain lions or bears.

Just listen closely.

You might hear whistling.

Back to blog