Venturing out for a walk one crisp Thursday morning, my primary goal was simple: track wildlife on the sandy river bar near my home. Curiosity, as it often does, won over the desire for warm ears in the brisk wind. The previous night had piqued my interest; a strange sound had echoed through the darkness long after my cat, Tiger – an avid outdoor enthusiast, even in the cold – was settled outside.
Around midnight, a distinct thump followed by a hissing sound pierced the quiet. Usually, such noises signal a skirmish between Tiger and a local raccoon or skunk. Raccoons typically send Tiger running, while skunks earn a hiss of disapproval. However, this thump was substantial, prompting me to grab my flashlight and investigate within seconds. Despite a quick search, Tiger was absent from his usual porch perch, though eventually, he emerged from the hillside, clearly spooked. Without any visible tracks and attributing the thump to Tiger jumping from under the cabin, I dismissed the incident until my walk the next day.
My riverside stroll led me to a patch of sand that was unmistakably disturbed, littered with clumps of black and white fur. The scene suggested a recent struggle, possibly a skunk falling victim to a predator. As I moved towards the river access trail, a shape on the ground caught my eye. There, etched in the sand, were two tracks, side-by-side, their edges softened by the wind but undeniably distinct. Too large for a bobcat, these were unmistakable Cougar Paw Prints. A young mountain lion, judging by their size.
(Please replace with the actual URL of the original image if available, or a relevant stock image. Alt text: Clear cougar paw print in sand, showcasing the distinct pad and toe shapes, found on a river bar during a wildlife tracking walk.)
Excitement surged as I photographed the cougar paw prints, eager to trace the story these tracks told. Following them backward, I explored the cougar’s entry point, discovering more prints in sandy patches leading towards Redway beach. The cougar had descended from a rocky section on the southern edge of the property. Pausing there, I decided to follow the trail in the opposite direction, curious about its destination. Dusk was approaching, and the wind picked up, rustling leaves and prompting me to glance back over my shoulder as shadows deepened.
Returning to the river access trail where I first encountered the cougar paw prints, I noticed tracks leading both ways. An area with numerous overlapping prints indicated the cougar had lingered there. Near a log, overgrown with berry vines and deposited by the river, I paused again, this time to examine some scat, initially mistaking it for porcupine droppings. Then, a distinct odor – the unmistakable scent of decay – filled the air. Something nearby was dead. I opted to move on, resisting the urge to plunge into the thicket to investigate what might be the mountain lion’s hidden food cache. Could this be what Tiger heard the previous night? Perhaps the cougar’s kill?
Further along, I found another area marked by crisscrossing cougar paw prints, indicating more extended cougar activity. Looking up, I could see the window of my cabin, approximately 100 feet away through the trees. Recent tree trimming had opened up the view, making the camp quite visible from the river. Had I been looking out that window the night before, I might have witnessed the cougar’s presence.
The tracks, sheltered in places, appeared almost fresh, lacking the pockmarks of rain. In exposed spots, the wind had smoothed them, leaving only outlines. Yet, they were no more than a day old. Intriguingly, one cougar paw print even contained the tiny tracks of a lizard within the heel impression. I discovered a nearly perfect print as the light faded, managing a photograph in the dimming light, hoping for a usable image. To protect this pristine print from the wind, I carefully stacked rocks around it, planning to return the next day for better photographs in daylight.
Continuing to follow the trail, I reached the smaller river access trail where I had initially come down. More cougar paw prints were evident here. Earlier, my focus had been on raven tracks in the sand patch, overlooking these more exciting discoveries underfoot. The cougar had paused here as well, seemingly contemplating whether to ascend the trail or continue along the river bar. It chose the latter, as the tracks led north, mirroring the path of lion tracks I had observed in January. Could this be the same cougar revisiting its familiar route? With fading light, I didn’t have time to explore the hillside to see if it had climbed upwards.
On my way back, I noticed a pair of shoes and a shirt discarded on the rocks, items absent just weeks prior. A morbid thought crossed my mind – could the cougar have claimed the owner of these shoes? Time to leave. I quickened my pace back to the trail and up to camp, scanning for any returning cougar paw prints along the path. None were present. A raccoon’s tracks led down to the river, but no cougar had ascended this way. Numerous tracks from my cats marked the sandy trail.
Tomorrow, I decided, I would investigate “Effluent Creek,” the location of the January cougar tracks. If my hunch was correct, this cougar would have followed a similar route into the Leggett Creek drainage. Part of me hoped the cougar would return, despite my concern for Tiger’s safety. He remained stubbornly outdoors, refusing to come inside or even close enough for me to bring him in. Yet, I yearned to hear a mountain lion’s scream, a sound described as spine-chilling, prompting nervous glances at door locks and shadows. Of course, not while alone on a dark river bar…
October 26, 2001, Friday…
The allure of yesterday’s cougar paw prints proved irresistible. Earache or not, I had to return and continue the tracking adventure. The river bar was already cast in shadow as the sun dipped behind the ridge. My first stop was the protected cougar paw print from the previous day. Removing the rocks, the print was well-preserved. I captured numerous photos, from various angles, with and without a penny for scale, documenting this perfect example of a cougar paw print.
(Please replace with the actual URL of the original image if available, or a relevant stock image. Alt text: Detailed cougar paw print next to a penny, illustrating size and scale for track identification, photographed in natural light.)
Moving on, I gathered more photographs of scattered prints, eventually reaching the spot where I had detected the scent of decay. Sniffing the air and examining the vegetation, I noticed trampled areas and broken branches. Venturing into the brush cautiously, I followed what seemed to be a well-used deer trail. Under a decaying alder branch, sawdust and wood chunks caught my eye. Initially thinking porcupine, I looked up and discovered the gaping holes of a pileated woodpecker, a bird I’d heard calling nearby for weeks. It had chosen a sheltered spot under the branch, a testament to animal instinct.
The familiar scent intensified as I pushed deeper into the brush. The trail widened, broader than a typical deer path – perhaps bear? Continuing, I found a flattened oval of matted grass, a clear animal bedding site. The trail led back towards the camp, directly beneath the parking area near the dumpster. Suddenly, a dark, motionless form appeared in the matted grass ahead. As I approached, the smell confirmed my discovery – the source of the odor. It was a doe, killed by a bite to the back of the neck. Drag marks in the grass indicated the carcass had been moved. The cougar had begun feeding from the hindquarters, with most bones intact except for a few ribs. The freshness of the kill suggested it hadn’t been abandoned long, likely around the time I had followed the tracks north the previous day.
(Please replace with the actual URL of the original image if available, or a relevant stock image. Alt text: Deer carcass in matted grass, a cougar kill site, showing signs of feeding and drag marks, found during a wildlife tracking expedition.)
This discovery took precedence over further cougar trail exploration towards the creek mouth. I photographed the carcass extensively, capturing close-ups of hooves and feet. Backtracking to the actual kill site, I found it nearby. A brief chase, minimal struggle evidenced by torn vegetation, and the cougar had dragged its prey under a log into the grassy patch. The matted circle of grass around the carcass indicated prolonged presence – the cougar had likely spent days there, feeding at intervals. Little meat remained for scavengers. Frustration washed over me – the cougar had been a mere 150 feet from my cabin door!
Observing the scavenger activity of turkey vultures and ravens in the coming days would be interesting. Skunks, raccoons, and foxes would likely join the feast as well. Returning to camp via a trail emerging near the clothesline, I noticed a dirt mound I’d previously registered as unremarkable. Closer inspection revealed a cougar paw print near the mound, and the mound itself contained cougar scat – a scrape pile, territorial marking! My truck was parked less than 30 feet away. Evening trips to the clothesline were officially cancelled. Laundry retrieval would become a daytime chore from now on. Just in case.
October 28, 2001, Sunday…
Half the day was dedicated to tracking the mountain lion. I confirmed it had indeed followed the same path towards the creek drainage as the January cougar. Only one set of tracks headed towards the creek. Returning to the initial track site below the lodge, I checked on the scavengers. They had been busy, dragging the carcass about ten feet, with most bones picked clean. Coyote tracks – two individuals – marked the area.
Following a path up the embankment towards camp, I found another cougar resting spot, a matted circle of vegetation with a clear view of the carcass below. Just like my house cats, the cougar had likely retreated there after eating its fill to digest. The clothesline was a mere 20 feet away, my car another 20 beyond that, and my cabin window not far off. This cougar had rested there while I was nearby, doing laundry on those very lines, some of which was still hanging there. Tawny cougar hairs snagged on berry vines confirmed its presence. The scat mound was indeed from this cougar. I photographed the view from the cougar’s perspective – my living space, so close. A bit unnerving. No more after-dark clothesline trips.
Clipping a berry vine with numerous hairs, I planned to preserve them – a tangible reminder of the big cat’s close visit. In total, I found four cougar resting spots and several river access points within its brushy refuge. No more scent mounds or scat were discovered. Walking around the dirt parking area, I spotted coyote tracks again – the same pair, who had briefly harassed a deer near my parking spot before my late arrival home the previous night.
Ravens and turkey vultures continued to dominate the scavenger scene, with ravens being the noisier participants. So many creatures, so many tracks. Each animal with four feet leaves behind a story in the earth, waiting to be read. Tracking is a deeply rewarding pursuit. Without recognizing those initial cougar paw prints, I would have remained oblivious to this entire unfolding drama in my own backyard – a fleeting glimpse into the life of a cougar. One more compelling reason to hone the skill of tracking anything that moves.
