Tag: mountain lions on the PCT

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Bad Ass Trail Angels

Sati & Melody

I thought I was a bad ass for staring down a mountain lion at Peavine Creek on the Pacific Crest Trail. But then Sati rolled out their story faking out sidewinder rattlesnakes with rope and then jumping over them in three-foot wide box canyons in the Escalante Wilderness.  That forced me to go to the time in Nepal when a Tibetan monk held a knife to my throat.  Melody countered with their adventures para-gliding from the Uluwatu cliffs in Bali, Indonesia. I reached back several decades to the story about when my pack busted and I nearly drowned crossing the Waimakarere River in New Zealand.  They both shared their adventures jumping off peaks in the Sierras in their para-gliders.  And that was before we finished the first bottle of wine and the lemon and saffron chicken dish that Melody had prepared.

Captain Melody on the river

And on it went through dessert.  We had a great time.  Melody and Sati are educators and family friends who now live in Mount Shasta.  I fortunately found them at home, and they generously agreed to be my trail angels for the night.  They had hiked 700-miles on the PCT, and they knew exactly what hiker trash like me needed: A shower, a good meal, a change of clothes while my laundry dried and a trip to the grocery store.

Yikes

They gave up para-gliding a few years back because they were taking too many risks, so instead they are now leisurely rafting the rapids on the Klamath, Rogue, Snake and other western rivers. 

Bad Ass Trail Angels that cook like…angels (PakDave & Sati)

The next morning these two adventurers were off to the Klamath River for a shakedown trip with friends.  I put on my pack and headed towards the Trinity Alps with a full belly, a treasure trove of new stories, and warm thoughts of good friends and BAD ASS TRAIL ANGELS.

Even their four-legged visitors are wild
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Drinking with a New Friend

I was sitting quietly on a logging road after my mid-morning break at Peavine Creek about a two day walk north of Burney Falls. I’m not sure what got my attention because I didn’t hear anything, but I looked up and across the road was a large mountain lion. A very large one about four feet long, plus a two foot tail and massive legs and paws.

He was walking down the dirt road to drink from the creek, and didn’t notice me. I didn’t want to startle the big fella so I moved slightly. That instantly got his attention, and he turned his head to directly stare at me. I met his gaze and we looked at each other for about 15 seconds. (It seemed much longer.) I don’t know what was going through his mind. Perhaps questions such as: Who is this smelly beast that’s at my watering hole? Is this guy a threat or a morning snack?

I entertained similar questions. Am I cat food? Should I take a photo? Am I really seeing this amazing creature? I decided to keep my phone in my pocket, and just stay in the moment and engage with this wild creature. He wasn’t at all worried about me, just curious. He no doubt has seen many humans in his woods, but I assume rarely has met one as unexpectedly as this. His gaze stayed steady and seemed intelligent.

It’s not the first time I’ve encountered a wild animal that is stronger and deadlier than me. I’ve also seen grizzlies and black bears at close range. I wasn’t particularly scared. In fact, I felt grateful for the experience, especially since he was just looking at me rather than hunting. In more than 50 years of backpacking, this is the first time I’ve seen a mountain lion. But you never know what actions a wild animal might take, so after a while (15 seconds to be exact) I decided to take the actions that you are supposed to do when encountering a mountain lion: Make yourself look as big and powerful as possible. So I puffed out my chest, raised my head and prepared to stand up. That was enough. The big cat turned around and silently loped off back down the road and into the forest.

I took a swig of the same Peavine Creek water that the big guy was seeking, and returned to the trail. From the way he loped off, it appeared that the lion didn’t want anything to do with me. Just in case, every few minutes for the next mile, I scanned behind me for signs that I was being stalked. Fortunately, the cat had other plans.

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Courage vs. Cougars

Editor’s Note: This blog contains video that is creepy and will scare the hell out of you. Proceed with caution.

There are lots of city people on the PCT who don’t have much experience with the wilderness and the creatures that live there. One woman I met was a successful businesswoman from Washington, DC, mainly doing translations for the government. She had a thriving company, but was burnt out. So she fired herself and took a sabbatical, including hiking the Pacific Crest Trail this year.

In early April, she camped in a dry canyon just north of Scissors Crossing (San Diego County). It turns out I was camped only a mile or so away, but experienced a quiet night beneath the stars, not the horror story my friend lived that evening.

Pak Dave’s messy cowboy camp in eastern San Diego County.

Around 8 PM (bedtime for most PCT hikers), she heard what she described as a combination of a witch’s scream and a baby crying. The sound was terrifying. She had some cell service and did some research, figuring out it was probably a mountain lion. There’s lore that this howl is a way for the cougar to lure good samaritans to rescue what they think is a suffering child, only to be eaten. Others have suggested it’s simply a mating call. Bottomline: It created soul-shattering fright for her.

Female cougar screaming like a banshee mixed with baby cries. Yikes!

But did this city girl go crazy with fear? Not for a second. Her solution: Switch on the Thelma & Louise video she had downloaded, and channel their female courage. After watching these gals kick butt for an hour, my friend settled down to a good night’s sleep with no nightmares. And most importantly it gave her a riveting trail story for future hiker gatherings. I heard it at Mike’s Place.