Mt. Shasta

Lights in the sky.
People going missing—or ending up miles off course.
Encounters that don’t quite make sense.

At Mount Shasta, the stories don’t stay in the past—they repeat.

In this episode, we explore the history, the sightings, and the theories behind one of the most mysterious locations in the United States.

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:10

Northern California, near the Oregon border, there's a place that doesn't just stand out. It dominates everything around it. A single peak rising higher than the landscape, visible for miles in every direction. For as long as people have lived near it, they haven't just seen it. They've told stories about it. Stories of lights moving where nothing should be. Of people losing their direction in places they should be able to navigate. Of something connected to the mountain itself. Not always visible, but always there. And over time, those stories don't disappear. They repeat. Different people, different decades, same place. And this place is Mount Shasta. Welcome back to Fifty States of Weird. One state at a time each week. One story you probably shouldn't look too far into. I'm your host, Jimmy. This one isn't one story. It's about the same place, seen different ways. Mount Shasta is an active stratovolcano. Over 14,000 feet tall, the second highest peak in the Cascade region. It rises almost completely on its own, separated from surrounding mountains, which means from a distance, it doesn't look like part of a range. It looks like something placed it there. The first recorded European sighting comes in the early 1800s. Explorers moving through the region document a massive peak visible from over 100 miles away. Something that didn't match everything else in the landscape. But they weren't the first to ever see Mount Shasta. Not even close. The name Shasta likely comes from the Shasta people who lived in the surrounding region, though even that isn't fully agreed on, which is fitting for a place like this. Geologically, the mountain's still active, not erupting, but not dormant either. Built over time by layers of volcanic activity. Meaning everything around it comes from below the surface. Heat, movement, energy that isn't always visible. And for most places, that would be the explanation. But with this one, it never really stops there. Before any modern accounts, there were already stories. And for the people who lived around the mountain, those stories weren't separate from reality. The Wintu tribe believed that the mountain was connected to a powerful presence that came down from the sky and remained at the peak. Not symbolic, something active, something that could influence what happened around it. The Modoc tribe describes something more unstable, a conflict between forces above and something rising from beneath. With the mountain acting as the boundary between them, a place where those forces could meet. And the Karak tribe approach it differently. Not as an event, but as a place that holds power, a place that requires respect, not explanation, respect. And across all of them, there's a shared understanding. The mountain isn't just part of the landscape, it's something within it. In the late 1800s, a writer named Frederick Spencer Oliver publishes a book called A Dweller on Two Planets. In it, he describes a lost civilization, Lemuria. It's highly advanced and according to him, not destroyed, but relocated, hidden underground, with one of its entrances connected to Mount Shasta. He presents it not as fiction, but as something he received, something transmitted. And while most dismiss it, the idea spreads. Then, in the early 1900s, a prospector named JC Brown makes a claim. He claims he found something inside the mountain. Not a cave, a structured space. Tunnels, rooms, artifacts, objects that didn't match anything known at the time. He claims he had been inside. He organizes an expedition set to date. People show up, and he never does. No explanation, just his original claim. An encounter. While hiking near the mountain, he says he meets a man who identifies himself as Saint Germain, a figure tied to ideas of hidden knowledge of sorts. Ballard insists this wasn't symbolic, it was physical. He claims this figure is part of a group living within the mountain, not caves, a separate space. And unlike earlier accounts, he builds something around it, a movement. What becomes known as the I Am movement, a belief system centered around the idea that advanced beings exist and can communicate with people. And Mount Shasta becomes one of its central locations. Then the lights. Not just something in the distance, something close enough to track. Most describe them as small, self-contained points of light. White, sometimes a light blue, occasionally a dim orange glow. Not bright enough to light up the area around them, just visible. Hovering completely still, then accelerating instantly. No gradual buildup, no arc, no turn, just a change. Some move vertically along the face of the mountain, some cut across the sky against the wind. And in some cases, people describe them moving toward the mountain and disappearing. Or appearing as if they came from it. No sound, no engine, nothing to suggest what they are, just light.

SPEAKER_00 6:55

And movement that doesn't behave the way it should.

SPEAKER_01 7:01

People have also reported encounters, not just stories of something chasing people or attacking, just moments, short, easy to dismiss until they repeat. People describe seeing figures at a distance, usually near the tree line, or standing just off the trail, tall and still human-shaped, but not moving the way a person should. And most of the time, there's no interaction, no approach, no sound, just presence. Some say they noticed it before they saw it. A shift in the environment, the wind dropping off, the forest going quiet, that feeling that something isn't there, even when you can't see anything yet. And then for a moment, they do. A figure standing watching, and then it's gone. Not running, not disappearing behind anything, just no longer there. And when they go back to where it was, there's nothing.

SPEAKER_00 8:06

There's no tracks or movement, nothing to explain what they had just saw. Not everything here is something you see.

SPEAKER_01 8:18

Some of it is something that happens to you. Experienced hikers, people who know how to navigate, describe losing direction suddenly. Not gradually, not after hours of heading off the trails. In minutes. They'll be following a trail clearly marked, moving in a straight line, and then stop because something feels off. The surroundings don't match where they should be. Landmarks that were just there are gone. The slope feels different. The direction of light doesn't line up. And when they turn around to retrace their steps, the path back isn't where it should be either. Some describe walking for what feels like a short distance, only to realize they've covered far more ground than they should have. Others end up miles off course with no clear route that connects where they started to where they are. And when search teams get involved, they don't always find signs of panic. No signs of running, no obvious mistakes, just a break in continuity. Like something had shifted. Not dramatically, just enough to throw everything off. And by the time they realize it, they're already somewhere else. At a certain point, it stops feeling isolated. Different people, different ears, same kinds of details, lights, movement, moments that don't quite make sense. People ending up somewhere they shouldn't be, seeing something that shouldn't be there, and it doesn't happen once. It happens enough that it starts to feel consistent, not identical, but close enough that it's hard to ignore. And once the pattern's set, you can't really separate one story from the next. Now, there are ways to explain parts of this, some of them completely reasonable. Mount Shasta is still an active volcanic system. There's heat, gas movement, low frequency vibrations, subtle shifts that can affect perception. Not enough to fully disorient someone on their own, but enough to make something feel off. Then there's the environment. Dense forest, elevation, rapid weather changes, limited visibility even during the day in some cases. And the area sits within federally managed land, overseen by the U.S. Forest Service. And within range, an active military airspace, which means some of what's being seen, especially lights, may have real-world explanations. Aircraft, training exercises, atmospheric effects, but some people take it a step further. They don't see this as random at all. They describe the mountain as a kind of energy point. A place where something is concentrated, something called a vortex or even a portal. Not something you can measure, but something people claim to feel. A place where perception changes, where the line between what's physical and what isn't doesn't feel as clear. And then there's another layer, more recent and harder to pin down, because some people claim they've seen inside the mountain without ever going there through something called remote viewing. It's a practice that was studied by the CIA to determine whether people could perceive locations without physically being present. And in some of those accounts, people describe the same kinds of things: tunnels, something beneath the surface, not proven, but close enough to everything else that it doesn't feel separate. But that still doesn't explain everything because some reports describe structure, movement with intention, encounters that don't behave randomly, so other ideas form. That mountain isn't a source, but a point where something else meets the surface. And that the far edge of that idea is something far more extreme. That whatever people are seeing isn't environmental, it's not psychological, but intentional. Something operating in and around the mountain, below and above. And if that's the case, then what people are experiencing there isn't random at all. It's not isolated. It's part of something bigger that's happening there and has been happening there for a very long time. Mount Shasta has always been there. Long before explanation. The Wintu, Modok, and Karak tribes all understood one thing. The mountain wasn't empty. And whatever people are seeing now might not be new. Just something that we don't understand. Next week, new state, another story. Until then, thanks again for listening. Stay weird and take care. You can find links to all three of those in the description.