
My mission is to uncover Mount Shasta’s myths, inspired by personal experiences too strange for “rational” answers.
After my dad passed, I moved south of Mount Shasta, below the snow line, with my family to escape the “zone.” Experiencing Mount Shasta’s phenomena firsthand is, quite frankly, exhausting. Luckily, the locals openly share their encounters, turning extraordinary into everyday conversations like, “The shapeshifting bear ruined my garden!” or “Those lights kept me up again!”
I lived in Mount Shasta City for about 15 years and moved to Redding area (45 minutes south) about three years ago. When people ask why I moved, I answer, “I was tired of Bigfoot in the yard.” They nod in agreement. He’s an environmental hazard.
Over the years, I’ve chased down a lot of recorded myths and narratives. They are usually entirely fabricated (channeled like Blavatsky or the city of Telos inhabited by Lemurians) or reconfigured for New Age production and resale (like Earth Chakras). It leaves me searching for other explanations for the paranormal events I and many others have encountered. Initially, I thought the concept of “myth” created a cohesive narrative for phenomena—or even religion or conspiracy theories like UFOs. For what it’s worth, no one I know has ever seen a UFO at Mount Shasta.
I have my theories about the phenomena at Mount Shasta—there is no denying it is “something,” but they aren’t quickly packaged into neat explanations. These experiences challenge what we know about reality, pushing me to explore unconventional theories that go beyond traditional frameworks.
Maybe something in the space between the known and unknown holds the answers we’re all seeking – like Liminal Theory.
