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Credibility: ★★★★☆ 4/5
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Threat Level: HIGH (HIGH — do not leave a five-star review)
A WTC investigation finds five verified cryptid habitats currently accepting bookings, rated an average 2.1 stars, mostly docked for ‘unusual odour’ and ‘host never visible but always present.’
I want to be clear that this investigation began as a routine research evening in my apartment, which is to say I was cross-referencing a sighting database with satellite imagery while Mr. Whiskers supervised from the cryptid-merchandise shelf, and I was not — at any point — intending to open Airbnb. That said, when a search for ‘remote Pacific Northwest cabin, no neighbours, creek access’ returns five listings that I can identify on sight as documented cryptid habitat, the journalist in me has obligations. Those obligations included reading 847 guest reviews across four platforms, a process that took eleven days and that I have added to the REAL ACTUAL EVIDENCE folder under a subfolder I am calling DO NOT OPEN BEFORE COFFEE.
What follows is a ranked list of five active Airbnb listings — all currently bookable, all with available calendars, all with at least two reviews describing a host who ‘communicates well but was never seen in person’ — that WTC can confirm overlap with verified cryptid nesting or territorial sites. I have ranked them by proximity to documented activity, average guest star rating, and what I am professionally categorising as ‘the audacity of the listing photos.’ Names of the listings have been withheld because I checked with legal and also because three of them have Superhost status and I don’t want to cause a whole thing before we’ve finished reporting.
The Listings, Ranked By How Much I Cannot Believe This Is Legal
The ‘Cosy Creek Retreat’ Near the Hoh Rainforest, WA
This is number one. This is number one by a margin I find genuinely distressing. The listing describes ‘rustic charm, old-growth ambiance, and a host who respects your privacy to an almost philosophical degree.’ The listing photos show a cabin that WTC cross-referenced with a 2019 field report in our own archives describing what three separate witnesses called ‘a bipedal structure of significant height using the same cabin as a territorial marker, specifically by leaning on it.’ The cabin in the archive photo and the cabin in the listing photo are the same cabin. Same distinctive cedar shakes. Same broken gutter on the north side that appears in both images. The Airbnb has 34 reviews. Average rating: 1.8 stars. The most common complaints are ‘thumping sounds after midnight,’ ‘the smell of wet forest but intensified beyond what forest normally smells like,’ and, from one guest who left one star and wrote only ‘IT WATCHED US PACK,’ which I have screenshotted and placed in the REAL ACTUAL EVIDENCE folder in a location I can immediately find.
The ‘Off-Grid Gem’ Outside Estacada, OR
I have personal feelings about this one because Estacada is forty-five minutes from my apartment and I have driven that road. The listing bills itself as ‘a true digital detox experience — your host has embraced a lifestyle entirely outside modern connectivity’ which, having read our field files on the area, I am now interpreting as a description rather than a selling point. Twelve of the property’s nineteen reviews mention ‘the sense of being observed from the tree line.’ Two mention finding what one guest described as ‘very large nest-like depressions in the grass’ that ‘were not there when we arrived.’ One review, currently marked as ‘helpful’ by six other users, reads: ‘Charming, peaceful, we saw something on night two that my husband and I have agreed not to discuss. Four stars. Would consider returning if we could bring our dog, who refused.’ Rating: 2.3 stars. Superhost. I cannot stress that enough.
The ‘Lakeside Sanctuary’ on the Olympic Peninsula, WA
This listing’s primary photo is a dock over a lake at golden hour and it is, genuinely, a beautiful photograph. I looked at it for a long time before I recognised the lake. I recognised the lake because it appears in a 2021 witness report submitted to WTC by a kayaker who described ‘a prolonged displacement event in the water consistent with something very large submerging nearby, after which the water smelled strongly of something I can only describe as old and wrong.’ The Airbnb’s amenities section lists ‘kayak available for guest use.’ I have stared at this for a while. The listing has 61 reviews, which makes it our most-reviewed entry, and the ratings distribute in a way that data analysts call ‘bimodal’ — guests either leave five stars and write ‘so peaceful, lake was calm, never felt more alone in a good way’ or they leave one star and do not elaborate. Rating: 2.0 stars. The host’s profile photo is a sunrise. There is no person in it.
The ‘Historic Farmhouse’ in Skamania County, WA
Skamania County is, for readers who need the context, the county that in 1969 passed an ordinance making it illegal to kill Bigfoot, classifying any such act as a felony. I admire this ordinance. I have a printout of it. It is on my refrigerator next to a Mothman magnet my mother sent me. The farmhouse listing describes ‘a working property with authentic rural character’ and notes that ‘the surrounding acreage is actively used.’ I want to be precise about how much that phrasing landed for me when I read it. Guest reviews describe ‘large muddy prints on the porch that weren’t from any of us,’ ‘outbuilding doors that had been opened from outside,’ and one review that says ‘beautiful property, the noises at night were animals probably, we chose to believe that, here is three stars.’ The listing has a minimum two-night stay. I think that’s bold. Rating: 2.4 stars.
The ‘Remote Treehouse Experience’ Near Mount St. Helens, WA
I am placing this one fifth not because it is the least concerning — it is not — but because the listing is so cheerfully written that I have to respect the commitment. ‘Elevated living for the adventurous guest!’ it says. ‘Host is very hands-off and you will have the property entirely to yourselves!’ it says. ‘Guests sometimes report unusual acoustic phenomena which we consider part of the authentic wilderness experience!’ it says, and that last one is a direct quote from the listing description, not a review, which means whoever manages this property sat down and typed it intentionally. Our field files on the Mount St. Helens corridor include documented infrasound events in the area consistent with what four researchers have described as territorial vocalisation. The treehouse is twelve feet off the ground. One review says ‘the platform swayed at 3am and there was nothing in the wind data for that night.’ The reviewer gave it three stars and added ‘the sunrise views were worth it honestly.’ Rating: 2.1 stars. There is a hot tub.
I’ve hosted hundreds of guests. The property has its own energy. Some people find it unsettling. Those people are, with respect, not the right fit for what we offer here.
— Airbnb host profile bio, Listing #3, Olympic Peninsula — host account created 2018, zero profile photo, response rate listed as ‘100%’
I contacted all five listings through the Airbnb platform with a standard enquiry asking about accessibility, parking, and — on the advice of my editor — whether the host could confirm they were a human person. Four listings did not respond. The fifth responded within four minutes with a message that read ‘Hello! We are a family property. Parking available on site. We look forward to your stay :)’ and I have printed this message and I have looked at it several times and I am not ready to form conclusions but I am keeping it.
I left two stars because the smell was really something. My partner keeps saying it was probably a bear and I keep saying I know what bears smell like and she keeps saying that’s not a normal thing to know and honestly this whole trip has just opened up a lot of conversations.
— Guest review, Listing #2, Estacada, OR — posted March 2024, reviewer has since made their profile private
FIELD ALERT
WTC is not advising readers to book any of the above properties. WTC is also not in a position to stop you. If you do book, please submit your experience through our standard witness report form, note the listing number, describe any acoustic phenomena in as much detail as you can manage, and do not, under any circumstances, go back for the kayak.
FAST FACTS
• All five listings are currently active and accepting bookings as of publication date.
• Combined, the listings have received 194 guest reviews across platforms; 67 mention sensory anomalies.
• Three of the five properties hold Airbnb Superhost status, which requires a response rate above 90% and a rating above 4.8 from a subset of reviews WTC cannot explain.
• Skamania County’s Bigfoot protection ordinance remains active law. No bookings have tested it yet, to public knowledge.
• Mr. Whiskers was present during the review of all 847 files. He had no notes.
The broader implication here — and I want to be measured about this, I want to be the journalist who stays measured — is that the sharing economy has created a mechanism by which entities with no verifiable identity, no legal address, and no apparent requirement to show up in a profile photo can list residential and semi-residential properties, collect nightly rates, and maintain Superhost status, and the primary friction in this system is that sometimes guests give you two stars because of the smell. I have texted this observation to my mother. She has added it to the Mothman folder. My father wants to do an episode. I told him to hold off until we have more data. He said he’d give it two weeks. I said fine. The listings are still up. Calendar is wide open. Hot tub included.
pennyhart@whatthecryptid.com
Penny Hart · Features Writer & Community Content Specialist — WTC
