Whatever it was, that sent John Bringsli of Nelson fleeing in blind panic from the head of
Lemmon Creek, hurling his huckleberry pail into the bush and racing for home in his early
model car, it had pulled a speedy disappearing act by the time he and a group of hunters return to the scene.
Mr. Bringsli, woodsman, hunter and fisherman in Kootenay district for more than 35 years, swore
on his reputation as an outdoorsman that it was "definitely not a bear." In an interview,
Mr. Bringsli related his experience with an "unknown creature" seen while on a huckleberry
picking expedition alone near Six Mile and unashamedly told of his frantic race over a hundred
yards of stunted bush and underbrush to his car.
"I had just stopped my 1931 coupe on a deserted logging road a couple of weekends ago and
walked about a hundred yards into the bush. I was picking huckleberries. I had just started to
pick berries and was moving slowly through the bush. I had only been there about 15 minutes.
For no particular reason, I glanced up and that is when I saw this great beast. It was standing
about fifty feet away on a slight rise in the ground, just staring at me. The sight of this
animal paralyzed me. It was seven to nine feet tall, with long legs and short powerful arms
with hair covering its body. The first thing I thought was 'what a strange looking bear.' It had
very wide shoulders and a flat face with ears flat against the side of its head. It looked
more like a big hairy ape. It just stood there staring at me. Arms of the animal were bent
slightly and most astounding was that it had hands, not claws. It was about 8 a.m. and I
could see it very clearly, the most peculiar thing about it was the strange bluish-gray tinge
of color of its long hair. It had no neck. Its ape-like head appeared to be fastened directly
to its wide shoulders."
Mr. Bringsli stood with mouth agape, staring at the thing for about two minutes, then it
began slowly to walk or rather shuffle toward the paralyzed huckleberry picker. It was
then that Mr. Bringsli decided it was time for him for him to find another berry picking
locations. He sprinted to the car and drove recklessly down the old logging road and
home. Bringsli returned to the scene the next day with a group of friends armed with
high-powered rifles and cameras, but the strange beast did not reappear. They did find
one track nearby. It was from sixteen to seventeen inches long. There were no claw marks
but rather a sharp toe print as described by Bringsli. When asked if he would return to
that area again, he retorted, "Of course, but this time I'll take along the old 30.06
just for good luck."
The interesting part of the Bringsli story is that it occurred in 1960. Ivan Sanderson
wrote about it in his lengthy and detailed February, 1968 Argosy article (as an aside to his story)
on the Patterson-Gimlin film, which took place four months prior in October of 1967. John Green
also covered this story.
Credit source for this rendition is Kyle Mizokami, 1996.
