The yeti is definitely a cryptozoological mystery - the Siberian equal of Bigfoot. A group of scientists were invited to Russia to search for proof of the yeti. As reported by the regional government, proof of the yeti has been discovered. Article resource: Siberian Kemerovo region claims proof of yetis
All about these boasts
Kemerovo, Siberia’s governor asked researchers and journalists to join him. He was in Russian country in the coal-mining area. Researchers from many countries, including the United States and Canada, attended the conference. A lot of stuff was discovered in the Azasskaya cavern. This includes coarse hair, footprints and a bed of sticks. The local administration calls this evidence "indisputable proof that the Shoria mountains are inhabited by the 'Snow Man'," the colloquial term for the yeti or Abominable Snowman.
Hair to be tested
Many scientists do not believe that this is proof of a yeti, although the regional government claims it is. There has never been anything from the so-called yeti that has been captured, and the hair has to be tested for DNA still. The evidence used to prove the existence of a yeti is the same proof used to prove the existence of Bigfoot. In North America, that is the fantasy humans are attempting to prove. Scores of evidence have been collected, but no physical specimen or incontrovertible evidence has been collected.
A number of people believe that the yeti discovery is simply a tourist stunt. The Kemerovo area of Russia has been very heavily focused on industry and mining. Tourism isn’t very big in the Western end of Siberia. The government is hoping to get more tourists there though as the mines are slowing. The regional government didn’t say anything specific in the press release. Still, it might:
"create a special research center to study the Yeti" in the regional university and "create a journal" dedicated to the science of the Yeti"
Courtesy JGordonHere at Science Buzz, we deal in facts. Cold, hard, frosty, refreshing facts.
We scoop up questions, opinions, and casual observations in big, greasy shovels, and we boil them over the white hot heat of science, processing and reducing them until we’re left with they crystalline residue of pure fact. (And if that fact gets cut and diluted down to street grade fact once it leaves the website, well, that’s lamentable, but it’s beyond our control.)
Before we send anything out to you, the Buzzketeer, we subject it to rigorous testing. Like, hey, here’s a cool idea for a post. Is it unequivocal, objective fact? No? Then we throw it out.
That’s just the way we operate here. You deserve it.
Yes sir, the search is on for yetis in Siberia, in a region where yeti sightings have skyrocketed in the last few weeks. While folks in the area claim to have been seeing upright, hairy creatures for years, 10 sightings in the past few weeks have got people concerned. Concerned and excited.
Local officials have launched a yeti-finding expedition, which has so far found approximately zero yetis, but has discovered an intriguing footprint in a nearby cave. (Images of the footprint can be found at the link to Cryptomundo above).
Despite my dedication to cryptozoology and the cryptocouch, I’m not sure that departmental petty cash is going to get me to Siberia to verify anything for y’all. So I must remain here, on the cryptocouch, doing what I can with what I’ve got. And that’s not much.
Still, reports have the creatures at about six-feet-tall, with red and black fur. I ran this description through my visual yeti database (see associated image), and I can conclusively say that we’re dealing with a heretofore-undocumented variety of yeti. This might not seem like a very significant thing, but it’s important in science to understand what you aren’t dealing with. Then you can move on to what you might be dealing with. And that’s where we’re at now.
Courtesy EJP PhotoThere’s snow on the cryptocouch, y’all. How did it get there? I thought the cryptocouch was in a basement somewhere. (That’s what you say.) And that’s what I thought too.
We were wrong. The cryptocouch, it seems, is very much a mobile entity. Sure, it lives in a basement, and that’s where we all (w’all) most often sit on it, but the cryptocouch also travels. It’s like that bed from the Nintendo Entertainment System’s Little Nemo: The Dream Master (Nemo! Help your cat, little man!)—the sucker flies. It flies.
It has to fly, because how else could we explain the snow? See, the cryptocouch has just recently returned from the Himalayan kingdom of Nepal, where it was following a group of Japanese researchers on a mountaintop nearly five miles high.
This particular peak, Dhaulagiri IV, happens to be where the Japanese team claims to have found traces of the legendary yeti. That’s right, y’all, yeti is in the house again already. He’s just not in your house. The primary goal of this expedition was to catch a yeti on film.
And that didn’t happen. But they did find something almost as good: yeti footprints in the snow. (Oh, that’s where all that snow came from, cryptocouch.)
Photographs of the prints can be found at the link above, or at the team’s own site here. Don’t get all sassy if that link doesn’t work, though—you aren’t the only one who wants to see yeti footprints.
If you can’t see the photos, or refuse to do anything that you’re told to do (I’m with you there, brother), here’s the deal: the footprints (or footprint, I’m not totally certain) were found in crusty snow on the mountain, and measure about 8 inches long. The leader of the team insists that they don’t belong to any of the other local animals, saying that his team has been coming to the region for years, and knows what bear, deer, wolf, and snow leopard prints look like; these prints look different.
On a previous expedition, a team member thinks he caught a glimpse of the silhouette of a possible yeti. It was about 200 meters away, but he estimated its height at about 1.5 meters (slightly less than 5 feet). So this particular yeti doesn’t have all that imposing of a figure.
Short yeti or no, we aren’t here to judge, are we? Well, we sort of are, but we aren’t handing out value judgments. We’re here to evaluate the evidence, and to decide if it’s likely that there’s a diminutive hairy man roaming the slopes of the Himalayas. The footprint isn’t quite doing it for me, but the couch saw fit to make the trip, so we’ll be sticking with the yeti for now.
Courtesy teotwawkiIt’s time again, Buzzketeers—get on the cryptocouch. Go on and sit down. Just as you are is fine. I understand that some of you may be a little crusty and gross, and that’s fine; you were probably just planning on getting a little internet on by yourself this morning, and maybe you let your crust build up, your funk get funkier, and didn’t expect to have to set yourself down on a cryptocouch with other Buzzketeers.
Don’t sweat it. The cryptocouch is big enough for all of us, with room to spare for buffer zones, and it’s upholstered such that I can just hose it off later. And that may be necessary, if your orifices aren’t up for some serious cryptozoology this early in the day.
And now you’re on the cryptocouch, despite your reservations. How did I ever convince you to do that? Hey, it’s only to be expected—my Yeti magic is particularly strong today. Usually my Yeti magic is fueled by groundless faith, but today, oh today, my Yeti magic is burning the high-octane gas of scientific uncertainty.
Uncertainty may not sound very good to some of y’all, but when science gets up in your grill as often as it does with cryptozoology, you take what you can get. And today, instead of scientists thrusting and grinding statements like “That’s bear hair,” or “That’s a sick coyote” in our faces, it says, “hello, this is different.” That is, so-called Yeti hair collected in India has recently been identified as “inconclusive.”
Let’s slow down and use our words.
Scientists at Oxford Brookes University, lead by “ape expert” Ian Redmond, have recently spent some time examining a couple of mysterious hairs from the Garo Hills of northeast India. The hairs were collected after a local forester reported seeing the region’s Yeti/Bigfoot thinger (specifically, the “Mande Barung”) in the area three days in a row.
The hairs have been compared to samples collected by Sir Edmund Hilary, a mountaineer and explorer, who did some Yeti-searching in Nepal in the 60’s. And that’s cool, except Sir Edmund’s specimens have generally been agreed to be from a kind of antelope, something that Hilary himself was probably aware of.
The Oxford Brookes researchers, then, began examining the new hairs “fully expecting them to come from a known animal.” The hairs, each less than two inches long, however, now appear to have come from an unknown animal. The scientists say that, under a microscope, the hairs look slightly human, slightly like an orangutan, and slightly like Hilary’s samples (so, slightly like antelope hair). But they don’t look exactly like hair from a known animal, especially none that are known to live in the Garo Hills. So, even if the hairs don’t come from a Yeti (or whatever)m they may be evidence of a slightly more mundane new species. Which is pretty neat.
The next step that will be taken with the hairs is their submission to that colossal buzz-kill we call genetic testing. The hairs, which still have follicle attached, will be sent to two separate laboratories in Oxford and Cardiff for DNA analysis. Even if the results don’t identify the hairs as belonging to a specific species, they should at least show what their original owner was related to (like a primate, or, say, a type of antelope).
How about that? Powerful stuff, huh? So cast your Yeti spells while the news is still hot, because who knows what the DNA tests will bring us.
Now get off the couch. I have to sleep there, and you’re making it all grimy.
The word is “Yeti.” The second word is “scalps,” and if you need third and fourth words, they’re going to be “furry” and “hats,” respectively.
The Yeti, or Abominable Snowman for those of you still standing in the damp, dark room of ignorance (seriously, you don’t know about the Yeti?) is something like south Asia’s version of Bigfoot. It spends its time farting around in the Himalayas, leaving bipedal footprints and surprising sherpas.
The Yeti seems to have been part of Himalayan culture for perhaps hundreds of years, and has been referred to by a good handful of names: Jo-bran, Kang Admi, Mir ka, Migoi, Dzu-teh, and Meh-teh, to name just a few. There’s some thought that the name “Yeti,” as well as a few of those above, derives from various Tibetan terms for “bear,” and, in fact, many people believe that bears are actually the source of most (if not all) Yeti evidence (sightings, footprints, fur, etc).
Genuine or otherwise, physical Yeti evidence is notoriously hard to come by (even as Bigfoot and his ilk go). However, there have been several occasions in which Buddhist monasteries claimed to have obtained solid Yeti evidence—Yeti scalps, in particular.
Several furry, cone-shaped scalps have been presented over the last century, and each of them has been pretty quickly and confidently discounted as fakes, stitched together from the skins of other, mundane animals. It should be said, also, that the owners/makers of the scalps consider them to be ritual objects, and that the jump to “genuine Yeti scalps” is one often made by foreign explorers and mountain climbers.
Now there’s a new Yeti scalp in town. And, if vague, third hand journalism is to be trusted, this one might be better than all the others. The “new” scalp (which is about 100 years old) supposedly still has the bone of the skull attached, which would have been a little harder for 19th century
Tibetan craftsmen to “fake.”
The scalp was being kept as a holy relic in a monastery in Bhutan when it was discovered by an English wildlife painter. Housed in a part of the monastery usually off limits to visitors, one monk enthusiastically agreed to show the painter the “Migoi scalp” upon learning that she was English and therefore somehow associated with David Beckham (of whom the monk is a huge fan). The painter then created a full sketch of the Migoi, based on the detailed descriptions of locals claiming to have seen the creature firsthand.
The incident has been referred to as “potentially…the single most important zoological find since the discovery of the coelacanth.” Hyperbole should perhaps be withheld for the time being, however, seeing as how the scalp has yet to be seriously examined by anybody but a traveling English painter. There’s a slight chance that it may just be a furry hat.