I recently took a trip to Idaho to see a friend and look into some career opportunities, and while I was there my friend took up the opportunity to introduce me to the exhilarating sport of hounding mountain lions because, as he put it, he had a tag that was burning a hole in his pocket and he wanted to show me an “Idaho shit kicking good time”. Now, I must pause and note that I made the assumption that he had done this before, since he lives in Idaho, but that assumption was very wrong, which is important because I was blindly following him on this excursion. Luckily for us though, he had recruited the help of a seasoned lion hounder to more or less guide our misadventures. I should also note that we were in the mountains, in Idaho, in March, and my trip in the day before involved driving through near white out snow conditions. As it turns out, fresh snow is ideal for hunting mountain lions as it makes them easier to track. However, it also makes for some bitter cold weather and very difficult walking on already unforgiving terrain. Nonetheless we set out in the wee hours of the morning and embarked on what would soon become one wholly unforgettable adventure.
We started our day in a region of high desert in Southeast Idaho, with nary a tree to be found for miles. About as far as the eye could see was nothing but snow-covered desert sage and the occasional mesquite (I’d later learn that these are the “trees” which would become host to treed lions), all of which was covered over by a fresh blanket of snow. This was particularly concerning to me, as thus far my understanding of hounding mountain lions involved treeing the cat. I was reassured that we’d cross that bridge when we came to it; the first step was to find fresh mountain lion tracks. We piled in to a tracked UTV with Carson driving, Nick in the middle, and myself on the passenger side. Carson’s dogs, a pair of blue tick hounds (Blue and Pax), were crated in the back of the machine. Three grown men, donning heavy winter weather clothes, packed into a side-by-side made for a rather uncomfortable ride. As a result I ended up spending most of the drive with one leg angling out of the UTV. That leg managed to catch virtually all of the snow kicked up by the front track, where it promptly either piled up from the floorboard to my knees, and what was left got swirled up in the wind into my face.
Our first trip proved to be an unfruitful one, after driving out across this high desert for over an hour without hardly any sign of life at all, let alone sign of any mountain lions. Instead of finishing the loop, we elected to turn around and travel back across the ground we had already covered, which meant another hour plus of being turned into an icicle on the way back to the truck. After loading the machine and stripping off enough layers to get in the truck, we soon faced another harsh reality of venturing out in fresh snow; we got the truck stuck trying to turn around. Back out into the cold we went, unloading the UTV, disconnecting the trailer, and eventually digging the truck out enough to get it pointed down the path before reconnecting the trailer and loading the UTV back onto it. Surprisingly, by this point it was only mid-morning, and we had plenty more hunting on the schedule.
We made our way over to an area where Carson had treed a cat the day before, and he was confident that we would be able to get back on that lion’s track and there was a good chance we could end up treeing it again. We parked on the road and drove the UTV up the mountainside to the gate, where we parked and headed out on foot up a trail on the outside of a canyon known as “Secret Canyon”. From the outside face that we climbed, we could see back over the snow-covered valley in which Malad City is resides. This breathtaking view alone made the trip worthwhile, but the fun was only just beginning. When I say we headed out on foot, I should remind you that this trail went up the side of a mountain, and I had just arrived in Idaho the day before, having come from Missouri. Naturally I was not in the least bit acclimated to the thinner, drier air of higher altitudes and yet I was already being tasked with hiking up the side of a mountain, and I did my best to suck it up and try to keep pace with the others but that did not last long. We made a brief pit stop at the tree where Carson had had a cat the day before, and from there started searching for signs that would point us to fresh lion tracks.
A few hundred yards later and Carson had the dogs on a track. By the time I had caught up he had already turned Blue loose and he was off and sniffing up the mountain, hot on the trail of the fresh track. Pax stayed behind with us, as a young dog Carson wanted him to first get more in tune with the actual treeing part of the process, which we’ll get to later. By this point Nick was considering the need to get back to the house to take care of his puppy, and so we were caught in limbo in trying to figure out whether we needed to call Blue off the scent or try and catch up with him, which meant a vertical ascent to the top of the mountain. Carson kept checking his GPS and updating us on Blue’s distance, which went from about 200 yards to 900 yards to “I lost connection at 1800 yards”, which meant that he had gone up and over the top of the ridge and was definitely on something. Now faced with a decision and having to act fast, Carson uttered the statement that I was most dreading, “we need to get up to that saddle.” By saddle, he meant the little dip in the ridgeline between two high points at the top of the mountain. I thought, there is absolutely no way I’m going to the top of this mountain right now. I don’t know if the utter terror wore on my face or not, but Carson and Nick quickly devised an alternate plan, which I for one was extremely thankful for. Carson would go on up and over after Blue with Pax while Nick and I made our way back to the UTV, and then driving around and coming up the canyon itself.
Before we even made it back to the machine, Nick got a text from Carson confirming that Blue had one treed. We hurried on back to the UTV, hopped in and started up the trail taking us up into Secret Canyon. Pausing occasionally and listening for the echoes of Blue’s baying, we worked our way further up the canyon until we spotted movement about two thirds of the way up the hillside. Carson had caught up to Blue already, and both dogs were going berserk underneath a mesquite just below an outcropping of rock. Nick parked the machine and we took off up the hill towards the action, a whirlwind of emotions kicking up inside of me as I got excited about our success and unexpectedly anxious about the fact that I was mere moments away from coming face to face with a real live wild mountain lion.
We had just barely started our ascent straight up the hill when an eruption of sound bellowed down from where the dogs had the lion treed, quickly followed by Carson yelling stopped us in our tracks. A moment later a flash of movement in the brush above us and to our right caught our attention. Initially I thought it was one of the dogs coming down to greet us and/or lead us to the lion, then briefly thought it was a coyote or some other critter flushed out by all the commotion. The harsh reality set in for both myself and Nick and approximately the exact same moment as we both realized that the mountain lion was charging straight down the mountain and heading straight for us! Nick instinctively drew his pistol and readied himself to start firing, at this point it would have been just as much out of self-defense as it would have been hunting. The cat suddenly made a sharp turn and darted across in front of us at no more than fifty yards, disappearing around the side of the hill. Recovering from some degree of shock and trying to gather our senses, Nick and I turned to each other with identical expressions that said, “did that just freaking happen!?!” After assuring ourselves that what we thought happened had indeed happened, Nick told me that what we had just seen was “just a kitten”, which is why he didn’t shoot. I know what you’re thinking, and no, this was not the cute and cuddly kind of itty bitty kitten that we had just encountered; while yes it was technically still considered a “kitten” it was a cat that was likely just under a year old, and still had some dark patches remnant of spots on its back haunches. Apart from that it looked every bit the part of a full grown mountain lion.
Shortly after the lion disappeared from view Pax came barreling down the mountain and hesitated when he got to us looking from us to the path that the cat had just taken, unsure if he should stay with us or continue the pursuit. “Catch him up!” Nick gave the command and it was all Pax needed to hear as he tore off around the side of the hill, so as not to let the “kitten” get away. We waited as Carson made his way down the hill to us, preceded by Blue scrambling to catch up to his brother and re-engage in the chase.
I want to take a moment and pause on this part of the story to provide a little bit of educational context, particularly with Pax as I alluded to earlier. I’ll do my best to explain it well as Carson explained it to us, but the gist of it is that while Blue is a seasoned lion hunting veteran, Pax is still considered a young and inexperienced hunter, even at roughly a year and a half old. Because of Blue’s age and experience, it would have been much easier for Carson to call him off the track using his GPS collar than it would be for Pax. At the time that he turned Blue loose, we were still not fully decided on whether we needed to head for the truck or not. Another interesting factoid that I learned from this is that mountain lions actually have relatively small lungs and a limited lung capacity. They generally do not run for more than a few hundred yards before seeking higher ground to get away from the dogs chasing them, which Carson referred to as “the race”.
Furthermore, while picking up and following a scent trail practically comes as second nature to a hound, there is a need to fine tune the discipline and behavior of the dog especially when it comes to getting (and keeping) a mountain lion successfully treed. Carson wanted Pax to get more work in that department, which meant letting Blue take the lead and do most of the work and then mixing Pax in once the lion was up in a tree. This includes not only teaching him to look up and get a visual to locate a treed cat, but also know that that’s when he needs to get vocal and start baying and barking. This situation provided a good opportunity for Pax to get some on-the-job training in a somewhat controlled environment. As we transition back into the story from here, we will see that sometimes, what we believe to be a controlled environment can quickly become uncontrolled and chaotic.
Once Carson got to us and caught his breath, he filled us in on what all had transpired since he sent us to get the UTV. Once he got to the top of that saddle he could hear Blue baying, which is when he sent Nick the message confirming a treed cat. When he and Pax caught up, he discovered that Blue didn’t just have one cat treed, he had two cats in one tree, which turned out to be a mama and her “kitten”. It is important to understand that it is actually illegal to harvest a female that has kitten(s) with her, even in self-defense situations. That’s because killing her would in turn essentially kill the kitten(s) as well. This meant that Nick wasn’t going to be able to fill that tag, but it still provided opportunity to work Pax and give me an opportunity to see a mountain lion up close and in living color. While he was waiting for Nick and I to get there, the kitten decided to try and make a break for freedom and jumped down out of the tree. When it did, Pax tried to go after it, prompting mom to come down and go after Pax. Carson, desperate to protect his dogs and prohibited from even attempting to shoot her, started hurling his trekking poles and yelling at the lion to get her off of Pax. That was the commotion that we heard on our way up the hill. Luckily this worked, as the scrap was short lived and she turned and bolted back up over the top, back to the area where we had just been on the other side while the kitten went the other direction and ultimately came face-to-face with Nick and me.
By the time we had gathered ourselves the dogs were baying again, which meant they had the kitten treed for a second time. We made our way toward them working along the side of the slope, which did I mention was snow-covered? And steep? Arguably the most aggravating part of the entire day was trying to navigate side-hilling that blasted mountain to catch up to the dogs. It seemed like every other step I was losing my footing on the ice, snow, and loose rocks which dropped me into the powder over and over again. I don’t know how many times I had to reassure Nick that I was “good” (although I was definitely not “good”) and I eventually had to borrow one of his trekking poles to try and keep myself upright, to little avail. We finally caught up to the dogs and sure enough they had that kitten set up in small mesquite, way out on the branches as far as its weight would allow it to travel, with both Blue and Pax going ballistic underneath scrambling and trying to climb their way into the tree. We stopped about twenty yards away and took a few pictures and videos to commemorate the event before Nick and Carson worked to get in closer to try hooking the leashes on the dogs. As Nick moved in, the lion made another break for freedom, leaping out of the tree to the downhill side and racing down the mountain with both dogs practically nipping at its heels. The race was on once again and the only thing I could think was, at least it’s downhill and not uphill!
Carson led the way as we followed and hoped for a short pursuit. We had long since surpassed the point by which we needed to leave and Nick’s puppy was just going to have to hold out at the house a little longer. Much to our delight the hounds fired off again baying and barking just below us near the canyon road, indicating that the kitten had been treed for a third (and final) time. Somewhere along the way in all of this chaos I came to the startling realization that while we were continuing pursuit of the kitten, we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the mother, and I was suddenly gripped with the fear that she could potentially show up behind us en route to protect her baby. As the guy bringing up the caboose in this parade that was all the motivation I needed to hurry up and stick close to the others, however the tricky terrain seemed to have other ideas for me as going down the mountain became almost more difficult than side-hilling. The good part is that mama did not, in fact, make her presence known to us, although I am fairly confident that she was never really too far away. I continued to slip and slide as much as walk down the mountain, at times conceding defeat on walking and choosing instead to tuck one leg and just slide over the top of the snow, letting gravity take its natural course. This new mode of transportation proved effective until I hit a bare patch of rock mid-slide and just about shattered my kneecap on a pile of rocks (which were promptly and violently picked up and given wings of flight).
When we caught up to Carson and the dogs, he had his hands full trying to redirect the dogs to the tree that the lion was actually in, because they were preoccupied with the exact spot in which the lion had climbed up, not recognizing that it had scrambled across the branches of several trees and was a good thirty yards away from where they were signaling. It took some convincing but once he got Blue pointed on the right spot, he commenced to baying once more with as much fervor as I have ever seen in a hunting dog. We settled in and stood right underneath this mountain lion “kitten” and let the dogs sing the song of their people, with Carson shouting words of encouragement and egging them on over the echoes of their thunderous bays. This was another golden opportunity to get Pax some much needed on-the-job training in locating and signaling on the cat. It was a truly mesmerizing scene as at one point Carson laid down and propped himself up on his pack, just soaking in the moment as the hounds bayed and barked, desperate for a chance to tangle with the cat nestled in the crook of a tree limb not twenty feet above our heads, keeping a careful watch on the situation underneath.
We documented the occasion with a few more photos and videos, and then much to the chagrin of Blue and Pax, gathered up our things, hooked the dogs to their leashes, and made our way over to the road which luckily was only about forty yards away. From there Carson and Nick hiked up the canyon road to grab the UTV, which we had all but abandoned once the action got going. I started to follow along but quickly gave up when I realized that although we were on the road, it was still an uphill hike back to the machine, electing instead to just wait for them to pick me up on their way back down. Once back in the UTV I was completely amazed by the energy, endurance, and discipline of the dogs as Carson let them run free behind us all the way back down out of the canyon and down to the road where the truck was parked. After running and searching all over one side of the mountain, tracking, treeing, and fighting a pair of lions, and then chasing and treeing one of the lions twice more after that, those hounds still had the fire and the energy to keep going. And although they desperately wanted to get back after that lion and see their mission through, they obeyed every command from Carson to stay with us and follow us back out.
As we headed for home I found myself sitting in the back seat processing everything that had happened, realizing that I had been in the state for less than 24 hours and I had already driven through a snow storm, froze my face off on an open, snow-covered desert, essentially hiked a mountain, and came face-to-face with an actual wild mountain lion. An Idaho shit kicking good time indeed.
The Hunting Lodge 