Our Greenlake Chronicles celebrity, Bearman, called me on Sunday with a hell of a story. We talk weekly, to catch up, swap stories and 9/10 times Bearman has something better to chat about than myself. Living in Montana at the base of a mountain is definitely more exiting than a crowded apartment in Downtown Boston! Please enjoy his first hand account of his Mountain Lion attack!
“The morning started off as a normal midwinter Sunday in search of sunshine, exercise and time away from the norm. This adventure satisfied each of those needs. Shortly after sunrise, my dog Angel and I began our trek up the mountain. Two lung and leg burning hours later we reached top of the ridge where we would drop down and loop around the south side slopes in hopes of finding shed deer antlers. As many shed hunting days go, we found nothing, but did stumble on the unexpected.
To gain a better look at the terrain below I headed towards an abrupt rock outcropping. Underneath was a thick patch of mountain mahogany and tall grass among the otherwise bare sage hillside. It was almost noon and the sun beat strong enough to start melting the skiff of snow laid down the night before. Suddenly Angel hit the brakes hair on her back stood up tall. Her hears alert and tail straightened told me something was definitely up. Cautiously approaching the edge, I drew from its holster my Ruger Superblackhawk revolver chambered in .44 Magnum. I came to the edge and saw nothing below. “Maybe there is a bear den down there” I thought to myself. “I’ll sit here for a few minutes and look around, then drop down to check things out.” I’ve always wanted to see a bear sleeping in its den. Pistol back in its holster I picked up my other piece of equipment for the day’s adventure; my new 12×50 Vortex Diamondback binoculars to survey the landscape. Meanwhile, Angel had detached from my side and wandered to the left side of the rocks twenty feet away, separated by a narrow, near vertical crevasse descending to the thicket below.
In the blink of an eye, a mountain lion bounded up through the rocky crevasse towards Angel, poised to attack! With little time to think, I drew my pistol again from it holster and cocked the hammering in one motion as I watched the lion twenty feet away as it approached my dog. Lips curled and teeth showing, I knew that it one thing on its mind. The cat, now eye level to me, crested the edge within feet of angel when I fired. It quickly wheeled around and bombed down through the crack in the rocks and I fired again. Moments later I saw the cat sprinting over the ridge below. Heart thumping I spotted movement in the mahogany below. The reason for the predator’s aggression was two or three large kittens. The young cats worked their way over the hill and were soon out of sight. Looking beyond I saw the big cat working its way through the burnt timber across the draw atop hard packed snow.
The lion appeared to move along uninjured, though I always follow a trail beyond the shadow of a doubt. Sure enough, my bullet made contact. Angel and I tracked sparse blood for nearly half a mile through snow and bare ground until blood dissipated and the encounter became un-walkable for two legged creatures. Confident that the lion was not fatally wounded, and far from my location, I sat down to refuel on food and water. Sun began to peak out from behind the clouds which dusted snow on the big mountains across the valley. Elk were feeding on grasses on the adjacent hill. In that moment I glanced at my revolver and to my hiking partner Angel bedded in the snow and panting. “Guess I won’t be leaving my gun at home any more” I thought to myself. Thankful for a memorable day I stood up, gave a whistle, and said, “Let’s roll Angel, on to the next adventure!”
Awesome story Bearman! Mountain lions are tough animals and I’m sure this one will walk away with a small scratch and a bit wiser. Be sure to check out more stories and pictures on our Facebook and Instagram pages. Thank you for reading!
-Michael
Green Lake Chronicles 