I Want to Believe in Skinwalker Ranch

A winding road traverses a vast desert region approximately 150 miles southwest of Salt Lake City, Utah, ultimately reaching a substantial black metal fence marking the boundary of Skinwalker Ranch, a 512-acre parcel in the Uinta Basin of Utah. This property has been the scene of numerous peculiar encounters over the past few decades, such as sightings of mysterious flying objects, malevolent or playful spirits, creatures resembling animal-human hybrids, and gigantic prehistoric wolves. The extensive premises are featured weekly on The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch, an unscripted series airing on the History Channel that follows a team of scientists investigating the bizarre occurrences that seem to cluster there. Upon arrival, my Lyft driver is met at the gate by a somber-looking man sporting a goatee, wearing a sidearm, and dressed in black pants, a black shirt, and a black cap. This individual is Bryant “Dragon” Arnold, the chief of security for Skinwalker Ranch. He opens the gate and guides us to a parking area located behind the Command Center, a mobile trailer housing six rooms where a team of scientists and ranch staff keep watch over the property throughout the year and serve as the production base during the series’ annual three-month filming period.

The television show does an exceptional job of portraying the ranch as vast and captivating, yet in reality, it seems modest and might not hold much appeal for someone unfamiliar with its rich history. There are relics of mining and livestock activities from past eras; three dilapidated shacks from the early 20th century, famously referred to as Homesteads 1, 2, and 3 on the series; a winding creek that dries up frequently, intersected by wooden bridges; a small mesa about a quarter-mile long, surrounded by trees and brush; and various wildlife. Many of these creatures can be found in standard zoological guides: coyotes, squirrels, armadillos, roadrunners, rattlesnakes, house sparrows, red-tailed hawks. However, it’s the elusive creatures not mentioned in books that supposedly require caution — according to local folklore.

The Enigma of Skinwalker Ranch

The Mystery of Skinwalker Ranch is the tenth most-watched original program on basic cable, and it’s a thrill for anyone who, like me, was captivated by shows such as The Twilight Zone, The X Files, or ghost stories around the campfire. As a child, I was enthralled by movies like Close Encounters of the Third Kind and TV series like Project UFO and In Search Of. From the library, I borrowed books on Project Blue Book, Bigfoot, Yeti, and the Loch Ness Monster. I’d gaze up at the stars at night, hoping to spot one that might start to move. As Carl Sagan once said about our universe, I always believed it was probable that intelligent life existed elsewhere. I also pondered if there could be a scientific explanation for the legends, beliefs, and imagery that have fueled so much of fantasy, horror, and science fiction.

In simpler terms, Arthur C. Clarke stated that technology so complex that we can’t comprehend its science appears magical to less advanced beings. This suggests that what seems mysterious or supernatural to us might make sense if our intelligence evolved further. However, even with an increase in brainpower, humans remain complicated, emotional, self-deceptive, and unreliable storytellers. I find it hard to trust personal accounts without supporting data, much like the character Mulder who desires to believe but also values truth over entertainment.

I often find myself drawn to shows such as “Ancient Aliens” or various ghost-hunting series, similar to how I might enjoy “American Pickers” or “Pawn Stars.” It’s the captivating, yet predictable nature of these programs that draws me in. I compare them to a familiar comfort food like hot dogs – if you find the taste appealing, then so be it, but it’s best not to ponder too deeply about their ingredients. Approaching “The Secret of Skinwalker Ranch” with skepticism, I soon discovered that it was unlike anything I had seen before.

On this intriguing television series, baffling incidents frequently occur. Healthy livestock mysteriously collapse without any discernible cause, sometimes even while being filmed. The ranch hands are perpetually apprehensive about succumbing unexpectedly to mysterious illnesses, severe headaches, brain swelling, or radiation poisoning. Additionally, there are frequent observations of objects that were once labeled Unidentified Flying Objects (UFOs), but are now referred to as Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena (UAPs) to accommodate the possibility that they might not be aircraft and to account for sightings in space or underwater. Scans of the vast, flat mesa on the property hint at a massive, enigmatic, fragmented entity within. There’s much conjecture whether it could be a crashed spaceship or one that has been hidden for millions of years, with the mesa growing around it.

To confirm it personally, I made a trip to the ranch during March, and now I find myself cruising in a Jeep SUV, which is being driven by none other than Brandon D. Fugal, the owner of the ranch as well as the star of the show. At 51 years old, he exudes an air of a Beat poet from a 1950s film with his all-black outfits and round eyeglasses. However, beneath this laid-back exterior lies a powerhouse businessman. He is the chairman and co-owner of Intermountain Offices and Colliers International, a commercial real-estate company boasting a market capitalization of approximately $6.7 billion. Despite having dropped out of Utah Valley University, he now holds the position of president on the Woodbury School of Business board at that very university, and his name graces the Brandon D. Fugal Gateway Building, a structure erected with a $5 million donation. At just 18 years old, he obtained his commercial real-estate license and has been scaling new heights ever since. There’s no doubt that he ranks among the wealthiest and most influential figures in the state. And now he’s sharing stories of his first encounter with a UFO.

In the spring of 2016, Fugal expressed skepticism about such matters when he purchased the ranch from its then-owner, Robert Bigelow, a Las Vegas-based aerospace tycoon with an interest in paranormal phenomena. However, on October 14th, during a tour of the ranch with a retired Army surgeon who had been stationed at Area 51 and two accompanying security agents, one of the guards exclaimed to halt the vehicle. Fugal claims he looked where the guard pointed and observed an object approximately 40-50 feet long and grayish in color, resembling a flying saucer. This object was clearly visible against the mesa, around a hundred feet above it. The object appeared to move swiftly from one location to another as if teleporting, darting about 50 feet downwards before moving to the left and vanishing. Fugal managed to capture a photo of this incident. This event marked the day when Fugal stopped questioning the tales associated with the ranch. “It wasn’t about belief,” he said, “it was indisputable.

Inside a trailer on Skinwalker Ranch, Fugal shares the narrative. This trailer serves as the base for operations and is frequently utilized in the series. It contains modest bedrooms, a meeting room, a command center with extensive walls of TV monitors, and a storage area packed with private servers to store data collected from the property every single second of every day throughout the year.

A group composed of diverse individuals has been funded by Fugal to investigate the activities at Skinwalker Ranch for eight years. Among them is technologist Pete Kelsey, who uses advanced tools like drones, LiDAR, sonar, and more to create detailed 3D maps of buildings and terrains, including Alcatraz, which he mapped for CNN in April. Pete’s work on Skinwalker Ranch involves using these technologies to examine the landscape of the ranch. When he first arrived, he thought it was a waste of time, but he’s still here after five years. The supervisor of the ranch, Thomas Winterton, is an expert martial artist with a black belt. His wife, Melissa, owns Resonance Meditations, a company that claims to provide meditation sessions accompanied by essential oils for deep mental and emotional healing. Today, Melissa is here to perform a blessing on me and spray sage to protect me from bringing any harmful, negative entities back home after I leave the ranch.

The main scientist at the ranch is Erik Bard, a thoughtful mechanic who bears a resemblance to Martin Sheen’s Kentucky kin and bestowed the moniker “the Cabal” upon Fugal’s team. In 2014, Bard met Fugal following Fugal’s investment of two years in a supposedly reverse-engineered UFO antigravity technology, which they collectively suspected was fraudulent. Fugal offered Bard a ride around Salt Lake City in a Porsche and proposed his involvement in the project to scrutinize the science. Along with an initial payment of $10,000, Fugal asked Bard to join the team. However, Bard returned the check, conducted some data analysis as a favor, and determined that the science was questionable. This led Fugal to abandon the project. When Fugal invited Bard to work on the Skinwalker team, he harbored concerns about history repeating itself. Nine years later, Bard resides permanently at the ranch while visiting his wife and five children in Kentucky (including naturally occurring quadruplets). He frequently works independently, describing his isolation as similar to that of Mark Watney in “The Martian” or Wall-E’s robot counterpart.

Originally from Texas, Jay Stratton – a man with a beard and deep-set eyes – was previously a senior analyst at the Nimitz Operational Intelligence Center in the Office of Naval Intelligence, also serving as director for the U.S. government’s Unidentified Aerial Phenomena Task Force. In Washington D.C., Stratton led hearings that exposed the video of the “Tic Tac” UAP which was encountered by Navy pilots back in 2004. These hearings garnered serious attention from mainstream media outlets, despite topics like this being dismissed as ‘kooky’ during Stratton’s childhood in the 70s. His memoir is set to be released next year, promising to shed light on “all legally disclosable” information about UAPs.

The lead character in this series, often informally narrated, is Travis Taylor – a scientist, engineer, and frequent guest on History Channel. This Alabaman, with his strawberry-blond hair, deep Southern drawl, and numerous academic degrees, was drawn to science primarily due to his fascination with extraterrestrial life, a passion he nurtured since childhood. In recent years, Taylor collaborates with Stratton on projects for Radiance Technologies, a defense contractor specializing in what they call “exotic defense technologies,” although the company is rather discreet about this, with rumors suggesting they might be involved in reverse-engineering gadgets from recovered Unidentified Aerial Phenomena. On the side, Taylor and Stratton also form a rock band; Stratton plays electric guitar while Taylor handles vocals. Their band, aptly named “The Hitchhiker,” is inspired by the enigmatic figures often reported on the ranch, said to trail visitors unless they’re sprinkled with sage during a cleansing prayer.

Taylor, a newcomer at the ranch who works with the History Channel, is skilled at breaking down complex ideas into easy-to-understand language. He often discusses science fiction theories like wormholes and force fields with the other team members during meetings and while speaking into a camera. Bard, one of the team members, occasionally finds Taylor’s enthusiasm for these theories irritating because he prefers his theories to be grounded in verifiable data. During their first meeting, Winterton thought Taylor was arrogant when he openly expressed his belief that they were working on unconventional ideas. However, Taylor acknowledges there was initial tension between them. He explains, “Winterton thought I was trying to take over and tell the team they didn’t know what they were doing, but once we started working together, we realized we were actually quite similar in spirit.

Fugal’s expenses related to his team and managing the ranch are covered by Prometheus Entertainment, a production company often collaborating with the History Channel for shows like “Ancient Aliens” and “The Curse of Oak Island.” During summer, Prometheus sends a crew to Utah to document Fugal’s team investigating strange phenomena at the ranch. The team is perplexed by occurrences that seem illogical from their perspective, such as an invisible barrier around a 200-foot high area called “the Triangle.” Any balloons, model rockets, or drones flown within this small region malfunction and explode, suggesting impact with an unseen obstacle. In the finale of season five, they simultaneously launched 200 drones, all of which plummeted from the sky around the same time. The vendor responsible for providing the drones on the ranch admitted to me that he was unsure about what transpired.

As a cinephile, I’ve noticed that critics often point out flaws in this show, such as its questionable scientific and historical accuracy, excessive glamour, dramatic overtones, and apparent focus on commercial success. In a Facebook group dedicated to watching it ironically, one viewer even suggested that the main cast are laughing at their high paychecks for producing what they call a “scientific” show. There’s been quite a stir on social media about this, with many people – some of whom claim to be scientists, communications experts, or other authority figures – finding the show hard to believe. One comment reads, “It’s been a scam since the ’90s,” while another suggests it’s nothing more than a movie set used to tell loose stories, write books, and appear on talk radio shows.

If the events at Skinwalker Ranch have been a persistent hoax since the making of the pilot in 2019, and potentially dating back to the 1990s when Bigelow owned the property, it’s an elaborate deception that has attracted significant attention. Senator Harry Reid, a friend of Bigelow, managed to secure $22 million in federal funds for investigation into aerial threats, which the military referred to as unidentified aerial phenomena or simply “objects.” This initiative, based at the Pentagon, was known as the Advanced Aerospace Threat Identification Program (AATIP), led by Luis Elizondo. He later resigned due to what he perceived as excessive secrecy and became an author and speaker advocating for UAP disclosure. It was under AATIP that Stratton first visited the ranch, well before Fugal became involved. The value of Bigelow’s and the investigators’ findings remains debated, but most of their research is classified.

Barry Greenwood, an expert in paranormal research for several decades, remains unconvinced about Skinwalker, both the location and the show. He states that the Bigelow era yielded no evidence that would persuade him of unusual occurrences on the ranch, and he is skeptical that the Fugal era will alter his stance. Greenwood comments, “I don’t think they are intentionally deceiving or engaged in hoaxes, but I believe they are a group of individuals who hold the belief that there might be mysteries out there that aren’t as mysterious as they seem.” In an article for the U.K. site IFL Science, Dr. Russell Moul was more critical: “The show is marketed as employing a scientific approach to prove the occurrence of events at the ranch. Despite generating much interest on social media and being entertaining to watch, the team has yet to present evidence supporting their alleged experiences.

The show’s own background doesn’t dampen the beliefs of conspiracy theorists. There’s undeniably an element of P.T. Barnum in the way the ranch has been commercialized through the series, not forgetting Fugal’s merchandise on skinwalker-ranch.com. This platform offers themed items such as hats, tumblers, T-shirts, hoodies, and a “Skinwalker Ranch Insider” membership for $8 to $12 per month, providing 24/7 access to the ranch’s surveillance feeds. Michelle Stratton moderates this site. Additionally, there are live events titled “Secret of Skinwalker Ranch“, where Taylor, Bard, and Winterton discuss the project in front of a live audience. The ranch has become a tourist destination for celebrities, with Fugal hosting Atticus Ross, Trent Reznor, Marqueen Reznor, Post Malone, and English musician Robbie Williams. Roadside signs offering tours of Skinwalker Ranch can be found around the area, although it’s unclear how they could deliver on that promise without passing ‘Dragon’. Books, documentaries, films, both nonfiction and fictional, have been produced there, often incorporating the ranch’s name in their titles. The ranch is increasingly a rival to Area 51 as a hub for UAP folklore, making it a growing concern, hence the widespread speculation that the Cabal aims to reap most of the profits.

In contrast, there are more communities of fans who appreciate the show compared to those who criticize or dismiss it. Additionally, there’s a segment of viewers who entertain the idea that something genuine and significant might be unfolding, but feel that the storytelling techniques – such as eerie music, dissonant sound effects, rapid editing – compromise believability by making it seem like every other unscripted series. A Reddit user described this style as “UFO junk food,” implying that, while it pretends to be serious, it subtly weakens the topic’s credibility.

Fugal doesn’t dismiss those complaints; instead, he highlights the companion series “Beyond Skinwalker Ranch“, a one-hour discussion where regulars dissect each episode, as a representation of the type of programming he’d prefer to see more often. However, he has faith in Prometheus’ approach to present the show because the company has produced many successful cable shows, and according to him, “the essence of a TV show is to be viewed.

During a tour around the property, Melissa Winterton mentions that some guests have remarkable experiences at the ranch, while others have unsettling encounters, and yet others leave feeling unimpressed. She ponders if the individual’s mindset might hold more significance than the events themselves. “As Shakespeare put it in Hamlet, ‘Nothing either is or isn’t; the mind makes it so.’ Perhaps what we perceive as negative may not truly be so. We just don’t know,” she adds, emphasizing the importance of perception. Over time, the Skinwalker Cabal grows more certain that the ranch possesses a life force in some way – a concept they can’t fully comprehend at present. Even the most skeptical member, Bard, who takes pride in his data-driven approach, is gradually convinced that the strange occurrences on the ranch, spanning decades, were orchestrated by an intelligent consciousness, similar to the sentient planet in Solaris or the Shimmer in Annihilation. He isn’t entirely certain about this theory, though.

In the first episode of the first season, Taylor lifted a metal grating at Homestead 2 and suddenly felt lightheaded and sick to his stomach. His portable radiation detector showed an unusually high level of ionizing radiation, though not lethal, and the next day he was diagnosed with radiation burns on his head and hand. In two separate instances on Winterton’s ranch, he sustained unexplained injuries on the same spot at the back of his head. The first injury occurred while he was operating a small bulldozer, and he claims to have heard a voice in his head telling him to leave immediately. Ignoring the command twice, he eventually felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and was rushed to the hospital. Scans revealed a swollen area at the back of his skull. The second incident occurred during the production of the first season and is discussed in episodes two and three. “In essence,” Fugal explains, “the back of his skull received a significant dose of radiation, causing him to be hospitalized and nearly lose his life.

In the main trailer at the ranch, Winterton narrates another event to me with Melissa nearby. His voice trembles as if recalling a traumatic experience, and his eyes hold an eerie, haunting gaze. He presents scans from his iPhone, revealing a small mound on his skull that appears similar to a volcano, suggesting brain swelling. Subsequently, he shares photos of himself in intensive care, visibly swollen-faced and bandaged. He refrains from speculating about the cause, neither mentioning aliens nor demons. However, he is resolute that something genuine and frightening transpired. During this event, he tells me, he experienced an intense, electric-like terror, and soon after, the affected area had grown to the size of a golf ball.

“I thought it was a venomous bite,” says Melissa.

Thomas explains, “During my hospital stay last week, they performed forty-three distinct checks on me. However, they weren’t able to pinpoint a specific reason for what was happening.

One plausible reason behind some of the mysteries at the ranch is that the illnesses suffered by workers and visitors might stem from exposure to nuclear waste or other harmful substances, potentially buried there by unidentified parties. Given Utah’s history of radioactive and toxic-waste issues, such a scenario wouldn’t be entirely implausible. If this were the case, it would be reckless to allow anyone, let alone a film crew, to work or even visit the ranch. However, the Cabal seems indifferent to these concerns, as if they believe their extraordinary and groundbreaking project is beyond comprehension by outsiders. In an interview with Punk Rock and UFOs, a blog dedicated to UFOs and punk rock music, Taylor suggested that if the ranch were officially deemed contaminated or unsafe, legal action would have been taken against those responsible for allowing access to it. Bard and Fugal both hinted at publishing their findings eventually but are waiting because they feel the experiment isn’t concluded yet. During our conversation in the control room, Bard emphasized that “this project is ongoing,” and until it’s complete, there will be no academic peer-review.

If you find these individuals behaving as if they’re fixated, compulsively pursuing an elusive chase with no end in sight, then yes, that’s the impression the show intentionally creates. It enhances this sensation through energetic editing and action-movie soundtracks, even when depicting mere men in boots and hats examining a dead animal. The cinematography transforms Skinwalker Ranch into an enchanting island amidst a vast desert landscape, while the team of investigators are portrayed as a close-knit brotherhood who bond through launching rockets, analyzing LiDAR maps, and enhancing video footage to determine whether a faint speck in the sky is a UAP or a falcon. In an episode exploring Winterton’s second brain injury aftermath, there’s a poignant moment when Taylor and Arnold return to the trailer after Winterton has been hospitalized, informing Bard and ranch superintendent Jim Morse of the incident. Both men are shocked, with Morse – a large man reminiscent of illusionist Ricky Jay in appearance and demeanor – becoming visibly emotional upon learning the news, asking Taylor with a quivering voice, “How bad is it?” The blend of immediacy and intimacy sets Skinwalker apart from other, less polished unscripted series, particularly those dealing with paranormal topics. This authenticity may sway viewers’ attitudes from skeptical or uncertain to – not exactly gullible; let’s say open-minded. A sense of genuine human truth permeates the series even as it employs familiar unscripted TV techniques and pushes implausible narratives.

I’m not implying there’s an alien spacecraft hidden within the rock formation or a secret gateway to another dimension buried on the ranch. Instead, I’m suggesting that if this series is indeed a long-running practical joke on television, then the writers should be rewarded with more than just screenwriting credits; they deserve development deals. Furthermore, the actors who play the characters known as “The Cabal” are exceptionally talented and could teach an acting course at Juilliard called “Maintaining Character Consistency Over Six Seasons.” Lastly, it’s worth noting that someone should remind Fugal of the fundamental rule in show business: never invest your own money into a production.

It’s unlikely Fugal would heed advice. He’s fully committed. Skinwalker Ranch isn’t just an expensive pastime for him; it feels like a divine calling. Whenever he discusses his connection to the property, his speech takes on a profound, almost evangelical tone. He confides in me that, much like many Utah residents, he is a Mormon, having grown up in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. However, he experienced a spiritual crisis in his 40s, just before purchasing the ranch. His religious beliefs had been waning for some time due to his extensive reading habits. He possesses a vast library—filled with thousands of books, some of them valuable first editions—and this collection is rich in theology, philosophy, and history. Fugal claims that by the time he traveled to Nevada to negotiate buying the ranch with Bigelow, he had reached the conclusion that “organized religion is merely a human invention, nothing more than a cultural tradition; it’s similar to Santa Claus, UFOs, or any other topic related to the paranormal, they are all just mankind’s attempts to discover mystery, to find meaning in both collective thought and superstition that persistently challenges critical thinking skills.

However, the moment Fugal spotted the shimmering object in the sky over the mesa marked a shift for him. It ignited within him an insatiable curiosity to unveil the mysteries of what was once unexplainable through scientific means. “Could I be saying that I am convinced this is originating from another planet, other galaxies, and these are extraterrestrial beings?” he shares with me. “No! We can’t assume the purpose or the source behind the occurrences; all we know for certain is that it exists, and not only have I witnessed it personally, but countless others across millennia have observed phenomena that challenge any conventional understanding of nature. By adhering to a methodical scientific approach to examine theories and explore this enigma, we can find explanations.

Is there clear resolution to these mysteries? That’s uncertain. Has the Skinwalker team discovered answers? I’m not sure, and neither are they. However, the series certainly makes one question their own skepticism. Watching a recent episode at home, I found myself once again captivated by the show’s infectious energy, reminiscent of the awe I felt as a child watching reruns of In Search Of and new episodes of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos simultaneously. The long-awaited DNA test on the potential dire wolf finally came back with results. A bar graph showed that the creature’s genetic makeup was 10% typical wolf, but the rest did not match any canine species recognized by science. Whatever this creature is, it’s something novel – something that will undoubtedly spark more questions.

Read More

2025-06-30 18:56