As I lay in my tent around 2 am listening to the soft sounds of the wilderness outside its thin fabric, my mind imagined all sorts of scenarios. I knew I would be getting very little sleep tonight. The rustle of the branches touched by a soft wind and the coos of forest fowl nestled nearby got my heart racing afresh every time. As I had gone to bed I had brought everything in with me, including my poles and had placed my pepper spray in a pocket close to where I could reach it quickly if I needed to.
It wasn’t like this was my first night out in the wild by myself. I had just hiked the entire section of the Pacific Crest Trail in Washington the summer before in 2013 basically solo except for a few crazy friends who joined me for several days along the way. But as I had gotten out of the car at the trailhead and began getting ready to hit the trail, I couldn’t help but notice all the plastic covered notices stapled to posts in the parking lot warning of cougar sightings in the area.
I had been looking for a quick overnight on the Olympic Peninsula, an area of my state I hadn’t spent as much time as I would have liked to. When searching hikes (and I can’t recall exactly where I had found this one as it was 4 years ago), I couldn’t help but settle on Colonel Bob Peak. My grandfather was a Colonel in the U.S. Army and although his given name was Robert he went by Bob. It seemed like as a good a reason as any. Plus, the views looked stunning and it was only 4 miles or so to the summit with a place to camp about 3 miles in. I would have plenty of time to drive from the Seattle area on a Saturday morning and be back on Sunday.
Cougar sightings. High cougar population. Black and white notices with red accents. I had just driven 3 hours on the highway and another 19 miles up forest road to get here. It had to have been at least noon. Should I stay or should I go? I have had many animal encounters on public lands: bears, snakes, mountain goats, raccoons, deer, elk, etc. But cougars seem to be a different story. They say you will never see them coming. Cougars stalk you.
I headed up the trail and into the sauna that is the rainforest of the Olympics, carrying the burden of cougar anxiety as I practiced my ninja quick moves on the spider webs cloaking the trail. Luckily there was a bit of sun drifting down through the canopy enough to illuminate them and warn me. This was my first actual time backpacking in the jungle and I really wasn’t sure it was my favorite. Within minutes I was sweaty and tired, the cougars would get me for sure. I did take advantage, though, of all the movement to make myself look bigger with my poles waving around to knock webs as a bonus.
I was on the Pete’s Creek Trail, one of two ways to access Colonel Bob Peak. Yes, the harder, steeper one. At the junction with the Colonel Bob Trail that comes from Lake Quinalt, I turned and headed up a narly slope of switchbacks that could not have seen brushing in years. Did I mention how hot it was? It was the end of August and I’m sure that the amount of cursing I did during that ascent kept at least a few cougars steering well clear of my path.
Moonshine Flats is where I stopped to camp, about 3.2 miles into the hike. I have seen no one yet and wouldn’t see another human for the entirety of my time on the trail. Usually this makes me happy, but I remember wondering if that was a bad sign at the time.
There was a small creek here and room for a few tents but the area really wasn’t that spacious. It was, however, surrounded by steep rock outcroppings and dense forest. Lovely, a cougar’s favorite place to reside.
I set up my tent and then took dinner and some essentials (including pepper spray) the rest of the way up to the summit. The sun was going down and I wanted to get in my views before going to bed. It was a scramble up to the top and despite my trepidation about a cougar encounter, it was all worth it. From snowy peaks to forested lakeshore to the Pacific Ocean stretched out to the horizon, the panorama was breathtaking. There is nothing like a meal al fresco and views of this caliber surrounding you to make you forget your fears and worries if only for a little while.
As the sun went down, I made my way back with my headlamp ready in case it was needed before I made it to my tent. I had used the “facilities” on my way so I could just get into the safe harbor of my tent and remain there until daylight. Isn’t is funny how somehow we irrationally think that fragile structure will somehow protect us in the event a wild animal decides it wants in? Sure we know a mouse will have no problem, this heeding all the warnings about not having food in our tent. But no one lies awake at night worrying about a mice invasion.
Yes, I think I did lay awake the entire night. If I slept at all, it was fitful and brief. I may have even moved the pepper spray from the pocket to hold it in my hand. My poles were staged for easy access as well, the only other real thing I could defend myself with. And you know I was talking out loud to myself and any cougars who might hear me.
“Why do I do this kind of thing?”
“Is this even fun?”
“I’M NOT SLEEPING!” And everyone who knows me knows how important sleep is to me.
Now if you are wondering why I don’t wear earplugs, I usually do. I would never get to sleep in the outdoors (or away from home anywhere) without them. They are great for drowning out all the little sounds. But who doesn’t want to hear everything if it could possibly be a cougar???
The next morning, I was up with the sun and back down the mountain unceremoniously. Of course, I had survived the night in one piece and bite free. Had I worried needlessly? Was my fraught all for nothing? Although still on alert, I made my way back down to my car through a fresh round of very busy spiderwebs happy to have had another successful trip out into the wild. As I drove back down the forest road from the parking lot, I was glad that I had not let the warnings and any fear keep me from doing something I love doing (apart from not sleeping).
Then, in what could only have lasted a few seconds but is permanently etched into my mind, I slammed on my brakes suddenly as a cougar crossed the road in front of me. It casually sauntered down from the forested slope on my right with its large U-shaped tail up in the air and disappeared into the brush on my left. It was of medium size and completely unfazed by me. Didn’t even turn its head.
As I sat there in disbelief, slightly shaking, I couldn’t help but be so thankful. I did get to see a cougar in the wild and by the grace of God I was in my car! And I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have it any other way.
This post was written in one hour for the #naturewritingchallenge. Check out Twitter to learn more or see my other posts from the challenge here.
If you would like to learn more about what to do in cougar country, you can find accurate information on the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife website. You can see more pictures and information from Colonel Bob Peak here.
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