First thing in the morning, a friend and I took off into the wilds of The Central Cascades. It was cold, and there was a fresh dusting starting at about 1000′ of elevation. Our intentions involved snow shoeing to a lake at 2600′. The dusting was easy to drive through, allowing the trucks to get up rather steep mountain climbs without much concern. I’d already spotted a few tracks along the side of the road as we drove, but knew they would still be there on the way back. We topped the major climb onto an upper plateau with excellent views of the greater Puget Lowlands, Bellevue, and Seattle; with The Olympic Mountains as a spectacular backdrop. It’s a great place to take a few pictures on a clear day, which we were enjoying as the sun rose over the eastern crest of Mount Si.
As we stopped to take in the crisp morning light, I took a closer look at the tracks along the road and smiled, it was a cougar trail, fresh, and probably heading away from the sound of our approach. The conditions were ideal for tracking, every detail of each step was captured clearly in the fresh snow. Slight dragging of his paws as he shifted down hill, turning his head to glance at tracks where some deer had come through earlier. In the moment, my buddy commented they were sad not to have brought a gun for personal protection. I pointed out we had three dogs, and that the cat was moving away from our presence. It was good to be aware of a big cat in the area, and acknowledge apex predators are always around in the wilds of The Pacific Northwest. Awareness of all hazard potentials should be in the back of the mind of any outdoor enthusiast choosing to adventure in western woods. My friend agreed, and pointed out that the cougars are invisible when there is not fresh snow to track in.
After some good appreciation of our big cat friend and his reveal in the sign we’d had the privilege to find and learn from, along with acknowledging all the other creatures and lessons being offered that day, we continued our drive towards the trail to our lake destination with renewed vision for tracking. No other tracks showed up on the road, but after a bit of hiking up into thicker forest on DNR land, we began to see two animals common in the area- snow shoe hare, and Douglas squirrel. Getting a good read on the differences between these two sets of tracks is a great journey of never ending lessons. The dogs friends we had with us were not helpful track observers, more like track and sign destroyers. It was still good to have them along, and they often pointed us towards sign we might have missed, being deficient in smell and hearing, compared to our canine friends. Still, if tracking is your focus in an outing, leave the pups behind for the best results in learning and observation. That goes for seeing wildlife as well. We were plowing through the woods with our enthusiastic pack, working on a destination and good movement, as well as observation. It was a magical day.
The adventure into back country winter wonderland took a little over 4 hours round trip. We walked until the snow was too deep, then put on our snow shoes and headed on up through three alpine lakes on a slow, but steady climb with panoramic views. Our trip up was breathtaking, as we were breaking trail and often crossing over shallow crevasses of creek flow. The dogs sometimes let us choose the best crossing routs, Other times, they picked a path and we sometimes followed. Snow shoes do not have the same advantage as clawed 4×4 paws along steep banks. Luckily, we managed to ford crossings without major incident, and the water was inches deep, so there was no real worry if we stepped in. At one point, the bank was so steep, I got on my knees to climb out, pulling myself up the slope on all fours. It was a great time, I really do love full immersion in the landscape.
The texture of frozen water can vary so much, our dusting lay on firmer base, which held us up on our hike. As we ventured deeper into elevation gain, the snow volume mounted until our path widened and obstacles shrank beneath the thickening quilt of white. The snow changed the landscape considerably. My familiarity with landmarks remained strong, as the surrounding peaks, forest groves, and well maintained trail carried us confidently past the first lake, onto and around the second, and up over a saddle, dropping down a gentle path to the third. By then, we were ready for a snack and some rest in the sun upon the frozen “field” stretching out before us. I was comfortable stepping onto the shallow (inches) area of the lake I am familiar with from swimming in summer. We did not try to go out into deeper areas to stay safe. The sun was warm enough to relax in, and even the dogs lay down to catch a rest and maybe a taste of our snacks, no! They would earn their kibble though. We all worked hard through the snow, enjoying the cold winter sport of mountain adventure.
On out return. the trail was made, and we could take our time enjoying the snowshoe hare flitting in and out of the spruce and mountain hemlock underskirts, where tree wells that endanger skiers, offer shelter to small mammals living under the snow. A few fresh squirrel crossings appeared on our way home. We were becoming familiar with the trail sign and could spot what pattern heralded which species. Snow tracking on fresh powder makes the game of spotting wildlife sign easy and enjoyable for all skill levels. Stories fill the forest for all to explore and discover.
As we packed up to head down the mountain, I took another look down the draw, back into the valley and cities, then beyond to the towering range on The Olympic Peninsula and appreciated the vast place we live. My company and I were in awe, slowly driving back along the road home, stopping to observe the change in those cougar tracks after a day in the sun. There had been a few very light breezes, but nothing besides time and some UV had done much to change the sign of our carnivore friend. As we trailed along, a new set of tracks appeared that had not been present in the morning on the way in. The cougar tracks remained steady and direct in a streight line heading east to west up a side road, avoiding our vehicles as we had come driving up the mountainside earlier that morning. Now, another cat had appeared, coming down out of the clear cut to the side road and cutting across the easy terrain, then catching the scent or sign of the cougar and hanging a left to come right into the larger cat’s trail. It marked the intersection of the two paths, then paralleled, before stepping right into the tracks of the cougar, pacing slowly up the hill.
Our narrative built on the possibility that the bobcat was trailing the cougar in hopes of some scraps form a meal. There is a possibility that the smaller set of tracks could be a younger cougar, but it would be quite small for the time of year, and hours behind mom. The cougar tracks are large, and I leaned towards thinking it was male, but I’m not positive, and it would be hard to make any assumptions, only educated guesses.
The light was warming as the sun began to touch a ridge line to the southwest. A warming uplift rose against the mountainside and we watched a family group of bald eagles kettling up into the sky in the evening light. It was magical, and a beautiful symphony of gliding wings and soaring spirit, stretching down into our hearts as we witnessed an ancient sunset ritual preformed with each sun cast approach, the golden hour signaling the exchange of day to dusk.
Much further down the road, after we had descended from the plateau and the kettling great birds, I checked the set of tracks passed earlier that morning. It was another cat, though these were very clearly bobcat and solo. It had skirted close to the brush along the roadside, and ducked down into the forest before the bridge, not using it to cross the sizable creek. The tracks pick up again on the other side of the road where the smaller predator feline popped back out of the brush and trotted on down the wide, easy lane. Three wild cats in one day, what a gift! The snow tracks melted away as we drove further down back towards the great valley rivers and home.
EEC Forest Stewardship 