Could Bigfoot Be Living in NYC's Backyard Wilderness?

You know, it's not every day that someone makes a compelling case for why a large, elusive hominid could be thriving just a stone's throw from one of the most populated cities on the planet. But that's exactly what happened when I stumbled across a recent episode from The Weekly Strange, hosted by John F. Mrs., that dives deep into the possibility of Sasquatch operating within just 20 miles of Manhattan. And honestly? The geographic breakdown is enough to make even the most grounded researcher raise an eyebrow. The episode tackles what the host calls the "ultimate metro cryptid paradox." How could an 8-foot-tall, 500 to 800-pound bipedal creature navigate a landscape crisscrossed by interstates 95, 87, and 287 without leaving behind undeniable physical evidence every single day? It's a fair question, and one that skeptics love to throw around. But the host makes a strong case that the tri-state region isn't the concrete jungle most people assume it to be. Here's where it gets really interesting. Most folks picture northern New Jersey and southeastern New York as nothing but strip malls, housing tracts, and multi-lane expressways. And sure, there's plenty of that. But if you look past the highway corridors, the ecological map tells a completely different story. We're talking about nearly 80,000 contiguous acres of rugged, protected mountain forest spanning the New York and New Jersey border. The Ramapo Mountain State Forest alone covers over 4,200 acres of boulder-strewn terrain with views of the NYC skyline. Ringwood State Park adds another 4,500 acres. Sterling Forest State Park contributes a whopping 21,900 acres, and Harriman State Park brings in a massive 47,500-acre footprint. Connect all of that, and you've got an unbroken wilderness block that would make any large mammal feel right at home. But the real gem of this geographic puzzle? The Newark Watershed. Over 35,000 acres of strictly controlled access land owned by the city of Newark to protect its municipal water supply. With strict permitting requirements and minimal paved roads cutting through its interior, this place is practically a sanctuary for anything wanting to avoid human contact. For an elusive cryptid species, that's about as good as it gets. The host also breaks down the biological ecosystem, and this is where the case gets even stronger. The forest canopy across northern New Jersey and the Hudson Valley is dominated by mature northern hardwoods, red oak, white oak, birch, and beech. During autumn, these trees drop millions of pounds of high-fat acorns and nuts. There are nearly a dozen varieties of berries providing additional sustenance. And the white-tailed deer population? In counties like Rockland, Westchester, and Morris, deer densities often exceed 60 to 80 deer per square mile, far higher than in remote wilderness areas like the Adirondacks. That's a ready supply of protein for an omnivorous creature. Add in the trout and striped bass populating the Ramapo, Hackensack, and Croton Rivers, and the caloric capacity of this land becomes pretty obvious. The comparison to black bears is particularly compelling. Thirty years ago, black bear sightings in suburban northern New Jersey were rare. Today, state wildlife agencies estimate thousands of black bears inhabit these exact green belts, routinely expanding into suburban backyards while maintaining core breeding populations deep inside the protected state parks and watersheds. If a 600-pound black bear can utilize these hidden corridors to live, hunt, and reproduce within 40 miles of Manhattan, then the biological blueprint for a large, intelligent, nocturnal omnivorous hominid is already virtually proven. What really ties this whole analysis together is the geological spine of the Appalachian Mountains, sitting just 30 to 35 miles from Manhattan. These aren't isolated hills. They're continuous ancient ridge lines carved by glacial movement that create natural elevated transit corridors. Wildlife can move hundreds of miles from the deep forests of Pennsylvania, straight through northern New Jersey, across the Hudson River, and up into the Taconic and Berkshire ranges of Connecticut and Massachusetts without ever descending into populated valleys. That's a green highway system mirroring the slate-gray asphalt millions of us use every day. The Ramapo Mountains themselves sit along the Ramapo Fault Zone, a geologic boundary that separates the Newark Basin. The terrain includes steep, boulder-strewn inclines, dense oak-hickory forests, abandoned 18th-century iron mines, and hidden swamps that in certain isolated places receive virtually zero foot traffic. It's popular with hikers, rock scramblers, and anglers, but there are pockets out there that remain largely unexplored. The host also pushes back against the default skeptical assumption that modern cryptid reports near major cities are just products of 1950s monster movies, pop culture projection, or internet hoaxes. He argues that skeptics often stumble because they make entirely human assumptions about the behavioral aspects of something we don't yet fully understand. And honestly, that's a point worth sitting with. The food is here. The cover is here. The terrain is here. The ecosystem can unequivocally support a relic hominid. The real mystery is how long they've been utilizing these ancient mountain ridges and what happens when human development pushes right up against their hidden borders. If you're someone who's ever wondered whether Sasquatch could really exist that close to a major metropolitan area, this episode is absolutely worth your time. The geographic and ecological breakdown is thorough, thought-provoking, and might just change how you look at that "concrete jungle" the next time you're stuck in traffic on the Garden State Parkway. Check it out over on The Weekly Strange's YouTube channel, and let us know what you think.