The Wampus Cat of Upstate New York: The Glowing-Eyed Phantom Stalking the Adirondacks and Catskills

In the vast, misty wilderness of Upstate New York—where the ancient Adirondack Mountains and shadowy Catskill forests hide deep ravines, forgotten trails, and endless acres of untamed woods—a elusive and terrifying creature is whispered to roam under moonlight. Known as the Wampus Cat, this large, panther-like beast with piercing glowing eyes (often yellow or green), sleek black fur, and a blood-curdling scream that echoes through the valleys has become a chilling part of local cryptid lore. Described as the size of a cougar but with supernatural speed, agility, and sometimes bipedal movement, it leaves massive tracks, mutilates livestock, and drives witnesses mad with its hypnotic gaze. Rooted in ancient Cherokee mythology but adapted through settler tales and modern sightings, the Wampus Cat haunts areas like the High Peaks of the Adirondacks, remote Catskill trails, and even rural farms near the Hudson Valley. Hikers report unearthly howls at dusk, shadowy figures darting between trees, or an overwhelming sense of being watched. But is this a surviving prehistoric feline, a cursed spirit from Native legends, or misidentified wildlife amplified by fear? And how did a Southern Appalachian myth migrate north to terrorize New York's wilds? Let's prowl the foggy paths of Upstate folklore to reveal the origins, sightings, and enduring mystery of the Wampus Cat.

The Wampus Cat's story begins far south in Cherokee tradition, but folklore travels with people, and as settlers moved northward or tales spread via lumberjacks, hunters, and storytellers, it took root in Upstate New York's rugged terrain. The core Cherokee legend tells of a beautiful woman who, distrusting her husband, donned a mountain lion pelt to spy on forbidden men's rituals or hunting magic. Discovered, she was cursed by a medicine man to forever wear the skin, transforming into a half-woman, half-cat beast—doomed to wander alone, her human face twisted in eternal anguish beneath feline features. An alternative protective version features "Running Deer," a brave woman who masked herself as a bobcat or cougar to defeat Ew'ah, a demon spreading madness. She succeeded but became bound to the cat spirit, guarding Cherokee lands with ferocious cries. Over time, European settlers blended this with their own fearsome critter tales, turning the Wampus into a vengeful predator blamed for livestock kills and eerie night sounds. In Upstate New York, the legend adapted to the local landscape: a massive black cat-like creature prowling the dense hemlock forests of the Adirondacks or the misty gorges of the Catskills.

Descriptions include glowing eyes that paralyze prey, a scream mimicking a woman's wail or banshee howl, superhuman leaps, and occasional upright walking. Some variants add six legs or amphibious traits, allowing it to vanish into lakes like those dotting the Adirondack Park.Sightings in New York, though rarer than in Appalachia, cluster in remote areas. Early 20th-century reports from the Catskills described "panther screams" and mutilated deer with unnatural wounds. Modern accounts include 1990s hikers in the High Peaks hearing chilling yowls at night, or farmers near the Adirondack foothills finding livestock drained with precise slashes. One 2000s story from the Pharaoh Lake Wilderness involved campers spotting a large feline silhouette with reflective eyes staring from ridges before vanishing. Urban explorers in abandoned Catskill resorts claim disembodied cries echoing from ruins. Rare but persistent, these tie into broader NY cryptid flaps, like Bigfoot in the Adirondacks or Champ in Lake Champlain.

Of course, skeptics provide earthly explanations. Cougars (eastern panthers) were extirpated from New York by the 1800s but occasional transients from western populations or escaped captives could account for large cat sightings—confirmed releases and DNA evidence support rare wanderers. Screams? Bobcats, foxes, or owls have vocalizations that chill the blood, especially in echoing mountains. Glowing eyes are tapetum lucidum reflection in deer or bears. Mutilations stem from coyotes, fishers, or bears. Psychologically, the legend serves as a "fearsome critter" to warn against venturing off trails in dangerous terrain prone to disorientation, cliffs, and sudden weather. Migrated tales fill the void left by extinct predators, explaining unexplained noises in vast, lonely woods.Despite rationality, the Wampus Cat's cultural hold grows. Imported via books like Joseph Citro's weird regional series or cryptozoology forums, it joins Upstate's pantheon alongside the Beast of Whitehall or Kinderhook Creature. Podcasts and YouTube "hunts" in the Catskills rack views; local festivals occasionally feature "Wampus warnings" for fun. In broader American lore, it's a school mascot in Southern states, but in NY, it evokes primal fear of the wild just beyond civilization's edge. So, is the Wampus Cat a spectral guardian prowling Upstate's peaks, or a transplanted myth echoing in empty forests? No photos or bodies exist, but the chills do. If hiking the Adirondacks' Northville-Placid Trail or Catskills' Escarpment, listen for unnatural silence broken by a distant wail. You might see only fireflies... or glowing eyes staring back from the underbrush.

Mike D. is a Connecticut-based writer chasing cryptids and curiosities—preferably in daylight.