In the dense forests surrounding Mount Hiba in Hiroshima Prefecture, a series of strange sightings began in the early 1970s that left residents unsettled and investigators intrigued. Witnesses reported encounters with a large, apelike creature, thick-bodied, broad-shouldered, and covered in dark hair. Its face was said to be humanlike, with deep-set eyes and a startling expression of intelligence. Locals called it the Hibagon, a name that quickly attached itself to Japan’s most enduring Bigfoot-like legend. For a time, the creature became the center of regional fascination, its presence lingering in police reports, newspaper articles, and whispered conversations among hikers who ventured too close to Mount Hiba’s shadowed slopes.
The first widely documented sighting occurred in 1970, when a man traveling near the village of Saijō claimed to have seen a massive creature moving upright through the trees. He described it as around five feet tall, with long arms, coarse black hair, and a face that appeared starkly pale in contrast to the rest of its body. The encounter was so vivid that he immediately reported it to local authorities, triggering an investigation that yielded no physical evidence but plenty of eyewitness testimony. Before long, others came forward with similar accounts, each pointing to the deep mountain woods as the creature’s home.
Unlike North American Bigfoot descriptions, which tend to emphasize towering height, the Hibagon was often reported as slightly shorter, stockier, and more muscular. Witnesses described a creature that moved with surprising speed, capable of slipping between trees with near-silent agility. Its tracks, when found, were unusually large for the region, resembling human footprints but broader and flatter. Some prints showed splayed toes or unusual pressure points, adding to the sense that something not quite human was roaming the forest.
Newspaper coverage peaked around 1972, when several schoolchildren claimed to have seen the creature watching them from the edge of a clearing. Their description matched earlier reports: a dark, ape-bodied figure with a disturbingly expressive face, somewhere between human and animal. Police searched the area, finding nothing but overturned branches and impressions in soft soil. Around the same time, a farmer in the area encountered the Hibagon near his property. He insisted the creature stared at him for several seconds before disappearing into a grove of cedar trees with astonishing speed.
Some suggested that the Hibagon sightings were linked to a displaced primate, perhaps an escaped zoo animal or a large macaque startled into unusual behavior. Others believed the sightings stemmed from wartime stress or collective fear, given that Hiroshima Prefecture still carried the generational scars of the atomic bomb. Yet the consistency of the reports made simple explanations difficult. Local folklore shifted to accommodate the creature, threading it into older tales of mountain spirits known as yōkai, guardians or tricksters who moved through Japan’s wooded landscapes long before modern sightings.
Cryptozoologists who visited Mount Hiba during the 1970s found the terrain perfect for an elusive animal. Steep ravines, dense cedar forests, and remote hiking trails made it easy for a creature, real or imagined, to remain unseen. Although no physical evidence ever confirmed the Hibagon’s existence, the sightings persisted for several years before tapering off. Occasional reports still surface today from hunters and hikers who swear they’ve glimpsed a dark, upright figure moving silently through the trees.
Of course, our own Bigfoot, the unofficial guardian of our Texas roastery, claims he knows the Hibagon personally. According to him, the Japanese cousin is a little shorter, a little faster, and far more dramatic when startled. We can’t confirm the details, but considering the number of times we’ve caught our Bigfoot rearranging coffee bags or sneaking samples of dark roast, we’re inclined to believe he knows a thing or two about elusive forest-dwellers.
Whether the Hibagon is a misidentified animal, a misunderstood tradition, or a cousin to legends found on nearly every continent, its story endures. The forests of Mount Hiba are quiet now, but every so often a traveler reports the sense of being watched, or hearing footsteps behind them that stop when they turn. In a landscape shaped by centuries of myth and memory, the Hibagon continues to wander, just out of sight, just beyond certainty.
Sources & Further Reading:
– Hiroshima Prefecture police reports (1970–1974)
– Chūgoku Shimbun archives on Hibagon sightings
– Japanese Folklore Society: Regional yōkai traditions
– Cryptozoology field notes from Mount Hiba investigations
– Oral accounts from Saijō and surrounding mountain communities
(One of many stories shared by Headcount Coffee — where mystery, history, and late-night reading meet.)
