My Encounters With Wild Mountain Lions
Ever since I first moved to California and heard about the mountain lions that were living in the mountains surrounding the Los Angeles metro area, I had always dreamed of seeing one of the impressive creatures in the wild. Of course, because mountain lions are so secretive and tend to avoid people, I knew my chances of that happening were slim to none. During 2020 and 2021, I set up remote wildlife cameras to monitor wildlife in the Santa Monica Mountains and Santa Ynez Mountains, and I was lucky enough to capture mountain lions on my cameras at both locations. I thought that would be the closest I got to one in the wild. Little did I know just how wrong I was about that.
Several years later in the summer of 2023, I was doing seasonal bird monitoring work in the Uinta Mountains of Utah when it happened. It was the end of the day, perhaps two hours till sundown, and I had just entered a private road in Ashley National Forest that I had permission to access. I was driving down the road to the location that I was planning on surveying for birds the next morning when I noticed two animals running off the side of the road. It took my mind a second to process what I was looking at, as I could tell that they were running differently from a deer. That is when it clicked and I realized that I was watching two younger mountain lions (2-3 years old) run off the side of the road. There was a ditch with water on the road edge, and these mountain lions were probably drinking water when I spooked them. The whole encounter only lasted 5-6 seconds before the two cats ran into the nearby forest to be lost forever. My mind was was overwhelmed, my body pumped with adrenaline, and my emotions in conflict. I had was so excited about the fact that I had just seen wild mountain lions, something I never though I would get to do. However, the encounter was so brief and I did not have any piece of evidence that the encounter happened except the image in my mind. It was difficult to reconcile with, but in the end, I was happy that I had seen one of these amazing animals in the wild.
I thought that would be it, but I was wrong again. Two months later, I was in Santa Margarita, California, heading out with my colleague Owen to conduct a frog survey at a local pond, just before the start of my Masters at Cal Poly. We were driving on the road to the pond just after sundown, and on the way, I spotted an animal as it crossed the road in the headlights. I instantly knew what it was, as it walked very different from a coyote and I saw the long tail. I pulled up and shined my flashlight in the bushes to see if it was still there. Sure enough, it had turned around and I saw its eyeshine in a bush. It appeared to be a 1-2 year old cub that probably just left its mother. The encounter probably lasted around 30 seconds and I could not believe I got to see another wild mountain lion, this time in California! Still no evidence it happened, but at least I had a witness who could vouch for what I saw.
Surely that would be the last encounter, right? Wrong again. This most recent one was both awesome and freaky at the same time. Just a week ago, I met up with two field herping friends of mine, Garrett and Wyatt, in the Santa Rita Mountains of Arizona to road cruise for snakes. The sun had just gone down when we cruised a black-tailed rattlesnake on the side of the mountain. We got out to take pictures of the snake, which was fired up and rattling loudly. As we were photographing it, Garrett heard a few rocks crumble down the slope above us, almost as if something was up there. He took a look with his flashlight, but he did not see anything, so we kept looking at the snake. 2-3 minutes later, we heard a loud call that was clearly made by a mammal. I don't know why, but my mind did not process what the call was in the moment, even though I had definitely heard it before. We joked about how the coatis may be coming for us. Shortly afterward, Garrett looked up again with his flashlight and saw the unmistakable shape of a mountain lion on a cliff above us, perhaps just 50ft away. The lion moved away before I could see it, but once Garrett mentioned what he saw, it clicked and I realized that I had heard its call. I really wanted to see it and obviously it was curious about us, so I shined my flashlight to see if I could locate it. In no time at I, I found its eyeshine as it was sitting under a small oak tree a few yards downhill from where Garrett saw it. It was within 30ft of us, so close that I could clearly see its head and make out the size of the body. It was definitely and adult mountain lion, probably a female. We watched it staring at us for 2-3 minutes before it finally decided to move away. My guess is that the mountain lion was either resting or hunting nearby, heard the commotion when we stopped for the rattlesnake, and came over to see what was going on. We were in a relatively remote area, so this mountain lion likely did not encounter humans regularly. The whole encounter from when we heard the rocks fall was probably 8-10 minutes, and we got better looks than I could have ever dreamed of. This time, I finally got pictures. The whole thing was a little spooky and freaky, as this mountain lion was clearly not afraid of us and may have viewed us as food. We were also right below it and within pouncing distance, a very vulnerable position to be in. I can only imagine how much more could have happened it I was on my own, crouching down to photograph the rattlesnake. That said, I was still very happy in the moment to experience such an intimate moment with such a wild animal.
These experiences have given me a heightened appreciation of the mountain lion, and icon of the North American wilderness that we should forever strive to idolize and protect. I felt blessed when I saw those first mountain lions in Utah and I feel even more blessed to have seen mountain lions two other times. Many people fear these essential members of our mountains, and most discussions of mountain lions dissolve into talk of frightening encounters and what to do to avoid being attacked by one. Having had such a spooky experience myself, I can understand why this is what people feel compelled to talk about. However, it is important that we recognize that mountain lions are so much more than just a predator that keeps us on our toes. They are a symbol of true wilderness, freedom, and a thriving ecosystem. I see them not as a threat, but as a blessing that makes our would that much more special. It is a privilege to see a mountain lion in the wild and we should always respect them and their domain when we enter it.
