Crimson Arrows
Well-Known Member
With all the interest in cougars in Iowa recently, I thought I would post a tale about my quest over the past 4 years in pursuit of this giant predator.
I know this is a whitetail sight but with shed season being about the same time we hunt these giant cats, I hope you wont mind if I share this tale....
It all started back in 2007, when I first started seriously thinking about pursuing North America’s apex predator, the cougar.
Reading as much as I could about this amazing predator and talking to as many people as I could, I finally booked a hunt in Southern Utah, hunting public land in a hravest objective unit.
After booking the hunt and buying my tags, I remember talking to my girlfriend, now my wife, telling her that I am not sure how I would feel about “shooting” a cat after simply finding a track, releasing a few dogs and walking up to it?
Little did I know how those words would come to haunt me in the years to come…..
In January, one year after booking, I left Iowa for my first cat hunt in Utah. We were greeted with temperatures around 0 degrees F and over 6 days, driving on snowmobiles and along mountain passes; we were unable to cut a track we could run.
Near the end of that first hunt, as I walked into a gas station to grab something to eat, the old man at the counter asked what I was hunting.
I said, ‘Cougars..do you see a lot of them out here?’ He bagged my stuff and said,
‘Son, I have lived here all my life and NEVER seen one.'
As I boarded my flight back home after my first trip, I realized I may have gotten into more than I had bargained for.
The next year I returned to Utah and unfortunately had the same result. The area was beautiful and we tried everything from the high mountains to the dry ground deserts but again it wasn’t meant to be.
We spent 6 more days, from sunrise to sunset, and still failed to cut a run able track. I was starting to think it just wasn’t meant to be.....
One year later, my third attempt, I decided to head away from the mountains of Utah and head north to Alberta. This would be my third attempt and I just couldn’t help but think I was cursed in some way.
However, I was fortunate to get one of the non-resident allocation tags in Alberta, which is one of the finest programs to ensure quality cougar hunting will remain for years to come. Not only that, but I was going to have the opportunity to hunt with John Cassidy, a true legend amongst houndsman and one I was surely to learn a lot from.
We started our hunt along the foothills of the Rockies and traveled
hundreds of miles. The first three days saw us working through old snow, hammered my elk, deer, and in some cases humans cutting Christmas trees.
We also had the chance to see Moose…
Elk.....
Sheep.....
Grouse
Trap Pine Marten…..
And my favorite, a Great Gray Owl, the largest owl in North America, although the snowy and great horned can out-weigh it, nothing is larger in size. It was an impressive sight.
On day 5 we were greeted with a massive snow storm and expectations were high that the next day would reveal fresh tracks and my first opportunity in nearly three weeks of chasing these giant cats. So much for this being easy….
I had promised myself I would shoot a mature tom, not necessarily a P&Y or a set weight, just really wanted a mature male, and John understood that I would pass a female, even if it was the last day.
While taking females is an important aspect to the management of these predators AND to ensure their prey stays on course, in my heart I knew I would only shoot one cougar in my life, and I wanted a mature male. I had come this far, and could wait…
With fresh snow we were hoping our luck would change!
As we were waiting for the snow to let up, we decided to place a trail camera on a dead horse that John had to put down. Rarely will cougars eat anything but that which they kill, but occasionally one will come into investigate. I was only hoping to see a wolf but got this the first night, a small female and my first glimpse of a cougar!
Despite the GREAT conditions and high hopes, the next 5 days revealed zero tracks and everybody in camp was pretty down.
.
The sun finally set on my last day in Alberta. To say I was down would be an understatement and I really started to believe I was cursed. John and his wife Gale were two of the most gracious people I have ever met, and everybody worked extremely hard for ten straight days in some great country, but we never did find a track to run.
So is the nature of hunting and it was a trip I wouldn't trade for anything.
22 straight days in lion country and I yet to even see a run able track or see my first cat. Maybe it was time to give up on my dream...?
When I arrived back home, life went on as usual and then one night my wife wanted to talk to me as I was brushing my teeth.
She asked, “ When is your fall hunting trip?”
I said, “No way…..”
We were pregnant and expecting our first child in September!
Now, to say ones priorities change when they have kids is understandable, but after just HEARING this news, I honestly felt like my world changed on a dime.
Hunting trips in many ways left my mind and I was nervous, excited and freaked out all at once. It is an awesome feeling knowing a little one is on the way
The Plot Thickens........
Now, at least two years ago I had spoken with Byron Stewart at Tracks n Trails Outfitters in northern Alberta. Bryron is often booked out years in advance, and all my call was trying to accomplish was to book in a future year and hope that one day my curse would be over.
I had always enjoyed talking to Byron but each year he was booked, and actually, John and Byron have a very high and mutual respect for one another as houndsman which was great to hear.
So when I told him my story and predicament I was shocked when he said, “Eyad, I am booked next year and half of 2013, but…..another hunter just called and said he can’t come, if you can come January 31st, you can have his spot.”
My wife knew how bad I wanted a mountain lion and said, ”You have to go! Don’t give up on your dreams.”
The hunting fund would be depleted and trips would have to be put on hold in the next couple years, but I honestly couldn’t think of any animal I would rather hunt.
Plus, with a little one coming, I wasn’t going to be going anywhere for a year or two and knew I had to try.
So, in late January, I left for Minneapolis and boarded a flight to meet Byron Stewart and TNT Outfitters in Northern Alberta for one last try....
I arrived in Edmonton and was greeted by this incredible display of two monster whitetails.
After getting my bags and clearing customs, I met Jeff, one of Byrons guides and one of the funniest guys I have ever met. Over the course of the next week, I got to know Jeff and he is one of the most energetic and
positive people you will ever meet.
Right away I was pumped knowing I was surrounded with guys who were as excited as I was.
I arrived at Byron’s and began unloading my gear into the Cabin where I would be staying.
I then met his son Levi and watched as Jeff and him loaded up and got the gear ready for the week ahead.
These guys are TRUE PROFESSIONALS, and take nothing for granted. Equipment is always taken care of, inspected and all details are looked after.
Day 1
We awoke to temperatures colder than I had ever experienced. That is not the wrong reading, it was indeed -39 degrees C, which in Fahrenheit is -38.2!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost the same.
It was dangerously cold and this began one of many lessons Byron would teach me throughout the week. He explained that when it got that cold, the big toms would stay holed up on a kill, which they make about once every 6 days. If it’s a big cat, and they kill a moose, it may last them longer.
The females however often have to kill MUCH more often that males as they have kittens to feed, which in your mind may appear to be 10 pounds, but often are 80-100! Think about that.
Hence, a lion will kill one deer or moose on average every 6-7 days, females more sometimes. Therefore, over 50 deer per cat PER YEAR!
We found many female and kitten tracks that days but no big lions.
Day 2
It warmed a bit but Byron still wasn’t to thrilled with the weather. I learned throughout the week how calm he always is and is always thinking. Like a chess match, Jeff and Byron just don’t drive around and hope to find a track, the think like a cat and modify their approach based on the weather and time of day.
Again, we found many tracks but still, small cats and one actually that I said, “Can we go after him?”
They both looked at me and said, ‘Do you want to go after this cat?”
I said, ‘”YES!”
They both just looked at me and said, ‘Yeah, that’s what we thought, lets go get a bigger one.”
Unbelievable!!
I was so stressed about spending over 23 dyas now without a run and they wanted a more mature cat.
I responded, “ I trust your judgement, although I am freaking out on letting this one go, let’s keep going.”
As we drove away from that "borderline cat" I couldn’t help but think,
"Did I just blow it?”
Time would tell…...
Day 3
We awoke to warm temperatures and Byron felt that the warming conditions would be good and bad. Coming in to a meltdown is fine as we would have a few days to find tracks and follow them before we lost our snow. The cats would also be moving more with the improved weather.
However, the temperatures were scheduled to fall drastically again on Sunday and when that happens after a meltdown, it can be VERY tough. The tracks will freeze if it got too cold and in the mean time the scent will be diminished with the warming temps during the day, a double whammy!
In cat hunting, nothing is ever perfect.
We kept running roads, trying to figure out which direction a couple larger tracks we found that day were headed, albeit old, as Byron and Jeff would have a better idea which way they were headed. Still, it was tough going.
With about 30 minutes of light left on Day 3, Byron decided to unload the snow mobile and run a stretch of road that we hadn’t run that morning. He came back right at dark with a smile on his face and said,
“Got him.”
Byron had found a track running into a track of timber that we had covered on all sides that day. No tracks showed him coming out, so we knew he was still in there. Jeff, always positive and pumped up, was really excited and we started talking about going home early and the superbowl as we checked into a hotel that night and ate dinner.
I was excited as this could finally be the day after trying for so long without even running a track!
We knew he would likely leave that night and start hunting and all we had to do was cut him in the morning leaving that timber.
If only it was that simple....
Day 4
We awoke again to warmer weather but with high hopes today would be the day! We ate breakfast and headed for the location Byron had located the large track. We began running the road and soon Jeff and Byron and seen where he crossed the road and headed towards the mountains.
I instantly could see Byrons wheels turning and trying to figure out what to do? Wolves are always a concern as if you can't get to your dogs in time, they will kill or severely injure them.
As a guy would had never run a track and spent 26 days in search of one of the big cats, I REALLY wanted to turn lose, but I also knew that Byron and Jeff knew best and to trust their decisions.
After looking at maps and finding out that although not ideal, we could get to the dogs if we had to, Byron collared up the dogs and turned them loose! It was time.
The dogs took off like rockets and IMMEDIATELY started barking, a sound you will never forget. We watched them on the GPS he had attached to their collars and in wolf country, I couldn’t imagine losing a dog in the mountains, they were a critical tool.
Soon the dogs were out of ear shot and we took off to try and keep up with them. Byron again, calm and collected, like the Bobby Fisher of cougar hunting, showed no emotion. I could tell the mountains and drop offs concerned him and it does nobody any good to tree a cat you can’t get to.
We eventually made out way to a logging road as the dogs and now gotten a few miles from the drop off and although had got confused at one point, now seemed to be back on the big cats trail.
Jeff explained that these cats don’t even know they are being chased until the last 300-400 yards and once they know, they usually tree fast.
The trail these dogs were on was made the night before and cougars have been known to travel 30 miles in one night, although 5-10 is likely more common. Still, the earned the name longwalker for a reason.
Eventually, we had loaded the snowmobiles and track atv and headed into the vast Albert forest. It was one of the most beautiful areas I had ever seen, no wind and temps in the high twenties. This was what cougar hunting was supposed to be.
Jeff was very optimistic the dogs would catch up with the giant tom and I couldn’t believe the curse was about to end!
Finally, we got to Byron and the look on his face told the story…....something was wrong.
We looked and the map showed a river system in the direction the dogs had gone, and they kept moving from one bank to the next, obviously trying to find what had happened to the scent and tracks.
We knew. The cat, although rare and with a RAGING river, had decided he wanted to swim the river and hunt the other side.
Unbelievable…. Byron said only three times in his twenty years had he seen a cat swim a river and 95% of the time, they get to the banks and turn around or move parallel to it.
Still, the dogs wouldn’t leave and Byron had to walk to the river and get them. It was a long and quiet ride home. Everybody was down and not saying much at all. To say I was down would be an understatement.
We decided to head back to his house, get fresh dogs, and regroup. As I laid there that night in bed I just couldn’t believe what had happened and with rain and warmer temps coming, it didn’t look good.
Before leaving the forest that night I was looking into those mountains thinking where that giant had gone....
Day 5
We drove all day and didn’t see much. Byron called it a “cougar wasteland” in many areas we hit but still, despite the warmer temperatures and rain forecasted he kept pushing.
I was exhausted and honestly, wish I could say I had high hopes, but it was almost T-shirt weather and we were losing snow.
At 3:00 Byron’s cell phone beeped and he picked it up. Jeff had found a track…and a good one!
The clouds were moving in and I knew Byron had a BIG decision to make. We were about 40 minutes away from Jeff and didn’t know how far the cat had gone. But, it was obvious bad weather was coming and Byron decided to take a chance and hope thar we could get a direction of travel at the very least, knowing where to start the next day.
We drove as fast as we could up to where Jeff had found the last track and Byron got out.
Now remember, this man had shown little emotion on all the tracks we had seen so far, but when he saw this one he said, “WHOA!....WHAT A TOAD!.....LETS GO…GAME ON!” :way::way::way:
Now that will get you excited!
Soon, we had collared up and turned the dogs loose, and into the woods they went, and before long, the woods were filled with their sounds.
We traveled down the road to inspect another track Jeff had found, and realized it was the same cat, moving to the south. We decided to wait for the dogs there but then realized they were having a very difficult time getting any scent from the tracks.
The warm temps and recent rainfall over the past hour was evaporating the scent and before long they were back by our sides. Not good.
Byron and Jeff, calm as can be, decided we should walk down the road and into the woods, trying to figure out what had happened.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Byron says, “There.”
Looking down, the very faintest of tracks was in the slush, I still am shocked he saw it. The cat had come onto the frozen road, walked it down, and then went back into the timber, leaving just a faint track on in the slush. Unbelievable, but we were back in the game!
The sun was setting and the weather was turning bad.
Byron took the dogs back in to try and unravel the mystery and soon called that he was in a maze of cougar tracks. It appeared that there was a female and a big male, weaving back and forth, across their tracks and back. The dogs were having a tough time and with good reason.
We couldn’t figure out where the female had come from? Was there a kill, or were they older than we thought they were? To make matters worse, it was raining hard to the north with bad weather forecasted.
Finally, after letting a few dogs run the track to the south, and realizing again that they came back to the timber track we started in, we drove around at last light, looking for any exit tracks…none were found.
If the weather held, and no tracks appeared in the morning, it was very likely that monster was still holed up in the timber.
Would he leave that night to hunt?
Would the rain and snow cover all the evidence if he did?
Time would tell...
Day 6
We awoke to warm weather again and headed to eat breakfast before returning to the last track. I was stressed out, tired and very unsure what would happen.
Byron had decided that it was likely a female had been in the timber and the big male, a breeder, had found her and was holed up with her, much like a rut crazed whitetail.
Byron collared up the dogs and headed into the last track to help them work the maze out. He had located the last tracks headed north, and started there.
Soon, he radioed and said, “ I found their bed and its fresh.”
We circled around and got the bow and gear ready to head into the timber when a call from Byron came in .
“Jeff, get the gun, this cat is bayed up on a log only a foot or two off the ground, this could get ugly.”
Honestly, after being with these dogs all week, I really wasn’t thinking about bow or gun, but only that these courageous hounds didn’t get killed.
Byron has lost a couple dogs to these big cats and he says its like them fighting Edward Scissor hands. There only mission in life is to get these cats, and they will risk their lives to do it…fearless!
Soon, Byron called back and said that he had left the log and was in a “leaner”, a tree about twenty feet up that was broken and at an angle.
I threw the bow sling over my shoulder and grabbed my back pack. It was finally time. The snow began to fall harder as Jeff and I headed into the timber filled with Spruce, Pine and snow.
With each step the barks grew louder and soon I could make the image of the dogs out through the vast pine forest.
I ducked under a spruce branch and saw Jeff looking straight up. There, twenty feet off the ground was the tom, and WHAT a cat he was.
He looked down with almost contempt at the noisy creatures below him, most likely thinking of them as mosquitoes rather than a threat.
In all honestly, if he wanted to, he could kill each dog easily, but not wanting to waste energy and time, most likely climb high and wait them out.
We chained the dogs up and I prepared for the shot I had dreamed of for so long.
All the time, days, and years it had taken to finally see one of the amazing animals was all now worth it.
Waiting for the right angle, it all happened very fast as the first arrow caught the lung, and with the size of the animal and risk to the dogs, Jeff told me to place one more. This arrow clipped the heart and almost immediately he was down.
I am not ashamed to say that I very rarely get emotional. My wife joked when she married me that she wouldn't say ‘I do’ until she saw me cry.
I shed a tear at the alter that July afternoon this summmer, and as I sat there in the snow on both knees that day in the Alberta forest, I shed a tear as well.
I think mostly for my respect for this animal, all the time I had spent thinking of, studying and dreaming of the day I'd finally meet one of these powerful predators face to face.
I finally said a prayer like I always do and walked over to him. To say he was big was an understatement, and i could hunt for twenty more years and not take a cat as beautiful or perfect.
Jeff, myself and the REAL HEROES that day...
His paws were larger than my hands, and it took three of us to lift him, in which I could only hold him for 10 seconds before having to let him down and try again.
Jeff and Byron have seen A LOT of cats, and they said 175-180 pounds and that I would be hard pressed to beat him.
It isnt hard to see how efficient these predators are at taking down moose, elk and 'other" animals as you will soon see.
They often jump on an elk or moose back, bite the back of their neck and use the off leg to reach around and grab the nose.
Once they accomplish this, they quickly pull back and break their preys neck.
Then they will drag them off and bury what they dont eat, to return daily until they are through and move to the next meal.
After "trying" to lift this cat, I cant imagine getting hit at full speed from
behind, to be followed by razor sharp claws and teeth.
As we field dressed him Byron told me to look at something and he just smiled as I tried to figure it out.
"Its a horse his son said, you took down a horse killer."
His stomach's contents were full of horse hair, a Blue Roan to be exact.
Talk about eerie....
As we drove home, excited as bunch of kids on Christmas morning, the snow fell harder and continued all night. It was surreal to say the least as all the tracks we had located would have been gone by Sunday.
We ate cougar steaks for breakfast the next morning, and the rest will be donated to an upcoming wildlife banquet.
In summary, to me, taking this old tom, one that had spread his genes, taken many lives, and lived his life in the mountains of Alberta was what I had dreamed of.
It is the one and only cougar I will ever take. That I promise.
I do however hope to one day hear the hounds singing again and accompany a friend into the wilds of the west in pursuit of this awesome animal.
And the next time somebody says, “I am not sure if I’d want to hunt cougars, it just seems so easy with the dogs and…..”
I’ll cut them off and say….........”Let me tell you a story…..”
Thanks for reading.
I know this is a whitetail sight but with shed season being about the same time we hunt these giant cats, I hope you wont mind if I share this tale....
It all started back in 2007, when I first started seriously thinking about pursuing North America’s apex predator, the cougar.
Reading as much as I could about this amazing predator and talking to as many people as I could, I finally booked a hunt in Southern Utah, hunting public land in a hravest objective unit.
After booking the hunt and buying my tags, I remember talking to my girlfriend, now my wife, telling her that I am not sure how I would feel about “shooting” a cat after simply finding a track, releasing a few dogs and walking up to it?
Little did I know how those words would come to haunt me in the years to come…..
In January, one year after booking, I left Iowa for my first cat hunt in Utah. We were greeted with temperatures around 0 degrees F and over 6 days, driving on snowmobiles and along mountain passes; we were unable to cut a track we could run.
Near the end of that first hunt, as I walked into a gas station to grab something to eat, the old man at the counter asked what I was hunting.
I said, ‘Cougars..do you see a lot of them out here?’ He bagged my stuff and said,
‘Son, I have lived here all my life and NEVER seen one.'
As I boarded my flight back home after my first trip, I realized I may have gotten into more than I had bargained for.
The next year I returned to Utah and unfortunately had the same result. The area was beautiful and we tried everything from the high mountains to the dry ground deserts but again it wasn’t meant to be.
We spent 6 more days, from sunrise to sunset, and still failed to cut a run able track. I was starting to think it just wasn’t meant to be.....
One year later, my third attempt, I decided to head away from the mountains of Utah and head north to Alberta. This would be my third attempt and I just couldn’t help but think I was cursed in some way.
However, I was fortunate to get one of the non-resident allocation tags in Alberta, which is one of the finest programs to ensure quality cougar hunting will remain for years to come. Not only that, but I was going to have the opportunity to hunt with John Cassidy, a true legend amongst houndsman and one I was surely to learn a lot from.
We started our hunt along the foothills of the Rockies and traveled
hundreds of miles. The first three days saw us working through old snow, hammered my elk, deer, and in some cases humans cutting Christmas trees.
We also had the chance to see Moose…
Elk.....
Sheep.....
Grouse
Trap Pine Marten…..
And my favorite, a Great Gray Owl, the largest owl in North America, although the snowy and great horned can out-weigh it, nothing is larger in size. It was an impressive sight.
On day 5 we were greeted with a massive snow storm and expectations were high that the next day would reveal fresh tracks and my first opportunity in nearly three weeks of chasing these giant cats. So much for this being easy….
I had promised myself I would shoot a mature tom, not necessarily a P&Y or a set weight, just really wanted a mature male, and John understood that I would pass a female, even if it was the last day.
While taking females is an important aspect to the management of these predators AND to ensure their prey stays on course, in my heart I knew I would only shoot one cougar in my life, and I wanted a mature male. I had come this far, and could wait…
With fresh snow we were hoping our luck would change!
As we were waiting for the snow to let up, we decided to place a trail camera on a dead horse that John had to put down. Rarely will cougars eat anything but that which they kill, but occasionally one will come into investigate. I was only hoping to see a wolf but got this the first night, a small female and my first glimpse of a cougar!
Despite the GREAT conditions and high hopes, the next 5 days revealed zero tracks and everybody in camp was pretty down.
.
The sun finally set on my last day in Alberta. To say I was down would be an understatement and I really started to believe I was cursed. John and his wife Gale were two of the most gracious people I have ever met, and everybody worked extremely hard for ten straight days in some great country, but we never did find a track to run.
So is the nature of hunting and it was a trip I wouldn't trade for anything.
22 straight days in lion country and I yet to even see a run able track or see my first cat. Maybe it was time to give up on my dream...?
When I arrived back home, life went on as usual and then one night my wife wanted to talk to me as I was brushing my teeth.
She asked, “ When is your fall hunting trip?”
I said, “No way…..”
We were pregnant and expecting our first child in September!
Now, to say ones priorities change when they have kids is understandable, but after just HEARING this news, I honestly felt like my world changed on a dime.
Hunting trips in many ways left my mind and I was nervous, excited and freaked out all at once. It is an awesome feeling knowing a little one is on the way
The Plot Thickens........
Now, at least two years ago I had spoken with Byron Stewart at Tracks n Trails Outfitters in northern Alberta. Bryron is often booked out years in advance, and all my call was trying to accomplish was to book in a future year and hope that one day my curse would be over.
I had always enjoyed talking to Byron but each year he was booked, and actually, John and Byron have a very high and mutual respect for one another as houndsman which was great to hear.
So when I told him my story and predicament I was shocked when he said, “Eyad, I am booked next year and half of 2013, but…..another hunter just called and said he can’t come, if you can come January 31st, you can have his spot.”
My wife knew how bad I wanted a mountain lion and said, ”You have to go! Don’t give up on your dreams.”
The hunting fund would be depleted and trips would have to be put on hold in the next couple years, but I honestly couldn’t think of any animal I would rather hunt.
Plus, with a little one coming, I wasn’t going to be going anywhere for a year or two and knew I had to try.
So, in late January, I left for Minneapolis and boarded a flight to meet Byron Stewart and TNT Outfitters in Northern Alberta for one last try....
I arrived in Edmonton and was greeted by this incredible display of two monster whitetails.
After getting my bags and clearing customs, I met Jeff, one of Byrons guides and one of the funniest guys I have ever met. Over the course of the next week, I got to know Jeff and he is one of the most energetic and
positive people you will ever meet.
Right away I was pumped knowing I was surrounded with guys who were as excited as I was.
I arrived at Byron’s and began unloading my gear into the Cabin where I would be staying.
I then met his son Levi and watched as Jeff and him loaded up and got the gear ready for the week ahead.
These guys are TRUE PROFESSIONALS, and take nothing for granted. Equipment is always taken care of, inspected and all details are looked after.
Day 1
We awoke to temperatures colder than I had ever experienced. That is not the wrong reading, it was indeed -39 degrees C, which in Fahrenheit is -38.2!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Almost the same.
It was dangerously cold and this began one of many lessons Byron would teach me throughout the week. He explained that when it got that cold, the big toms would stay holed up on a kill, which they make about once every 6 days. If it’s a big cat, and they kill a moose, it may last them longer.
The females however often have to kill MUCH more often that males as they have kittens to feed, which in your mind may appear to be 10 pounds, but often are 80-100! Think about that.
Hence, a lion will kill one deer or moose on average every 6-7 days, females more sometimes. Therefore, over 50 deer per cat PER YEAR!
We found many female and kitten tracks that days but no big lions.
Day 2
It warmed a bit but Byron still wasn’t to thrilled with the weather. I learned throughout the week how calm he always is and is always thinking. Like a chess match, Jeff and Byron just don’t drive around and hope to find a track, the think like a cat and modify their approach based on the weather and time of day.
Again, we found many tracks but still, small cats and one actually that I said, “Can we go after him?”
They both looked at me and said, ‘Do you want to go after this cat?”
I said, ‘”YES!”
They both just looked at me and said, ‘Yeah, that’s what we thought, lets go get a bigger one.”
Unbelievable!!
I was so stressed about spending over 23 dyas now without a run and they wanted a more mature cat.
I responded, “ I trust your judgement, although I am freaking out on letting this one go, let’s keep going.”
As we drove away from that "borderline cat" I couldn’t help but think,
"Did I just blow it?”
Time would tell…...
Day 3
We awoke to warm temperatures and Byron felt that the warming conditions would be good and bad. Coming in to a meltdown is fine as we would have a few days to find tracks and follow them before we lost our snow. The cats would also be moving more with the improved weather.
However, the temperatures were scheduled to fall drastically again on Sunday and when that happens after a meltdown, it can be VERY tough. The tracks will freeze if it got too cold and in the mean time the scent will be diminished with the warming temps during the day, a double whammy!
In cat hunting, nothing is ever perfect.
We kept running roads, trying to figure out which direction a couple larger tracks we found that day were headed, albeit old, as Byron and Jeff would have a better idea which way they were headed. Still, it was tough going.
With about 30 minutes of light left on Day 3, Byron decided to unload the snow mobile and run a stretch of road that we hadn’t run that morning. He came back right at dark with a smile on his face and said,
“Got him.”
Byron had found a track running into a track of timber that we had covered on all sides that day. No tracks showed him coming out, so we knew he was still in there. Jeff, always positive and pumped up, was really excited and we started talking about going home early and the superbowl as we checked into a hotel that night and ate dinner.
I was excited as this could finally be the day after trying for so long without even running a track!
We knew he would likely leave that night and start hunting and all we had to do was cut him in the morning leaving that timber.
If only it was that simple....
Day 4
We awoke again to warmer weather but with high hopes today would be the day! We ate breakfast and headed for the location Byron had located the large track. We began running the road and soon Jeff and Byron and seen where he crossed the road and headed towards the mountains.
I instantly could see Byrons wheels turning and trying to figure out what to do? Wolves are always a concern as if you can't get to your dogs in time, they will kill or severely injure them.
As a guy would had never run a track and spent 26 days in search of one of the big cats, I REALLY wanted to turn lose, but I also knew that Byron and Jeff knew best and to trust their decisions.
After looking at maps and finding out that although not ideal, we could get to the dogs if we had to, Byron collared up the dogs and turned them loose! It was time.
The dogs took off like rockets and IMMEDIATELY started barking, a sound you will never forget. We watched them on the GPS he had attached to their collars and in wolf country, I couldn’t imagine losing a dog in the mountains, they were a critical tool.
Soon the dogs were out of ear shot and we took off to try and keep up with them. Byron again, calm and collected, like the Bobby Fisher of cougar hunting, showed no emotion. I could tell the mountains and drop offs concerned him and it does nobody any good to tree a cat you can’t get to.
We eventually made out way to a logging road as the dogs and now gotten a few miles from the drop off and although had got confused at one point, now seemed to be back on the big cats trail.
Jeff explained that these cats don’t even know they are being chased until the last 300-400 yards and once they know, they usually tree fast.
The trail these dogs were on was made the night before and cougars have been known to travel 30 miles in one night, although 5-10 is likely more common. Still, the earned the name longwalker for a reason.
Eventually, we had loaded the snowmobiles and track atv and headed into the vast Albert forest. It was one of the most beautiful areas I had ever seen, no wind and temps in the high twenties. This was what cougar hunting was supposed to be.
Jeff was very optimistic the dogs would catch up with the giant tom and I couldn’t believe the curse was about to end!
Finally, we got to Byron and the look on his face told the story…....something was wrong.
We looked and the map showed a river system in the direction the dogs had gone, and they kept moving from one bank to the next, obviously trying to find what had happened to the scent and tracks.
We knew. The cat, although rare and with a RAGING river, had decided he wanted to swim the river and hunt the other side.
Unbelievable…. Byron said only three times in his twenty years had he seen a cat swim a river and 95% of the time, they get to the banks and turn around or move parallel to it.
Still, the dogs wouldn’t leave and Byron had to walk to the river and get them. It was a long and quiet ride home. Everybody was down and not saying much at all. To say I was down would be an understatement.
We decided to head back to his house, get fresh dogs, and regroup. As I laid there that night in bed I just couldn’t believe what had happened and with rain and warmer temps coming, it didn’t look good.
Before leaving the forest that night I was looking into those mountains thinking where that giant had gone....
Day 5
We drove all day and didn’t see much. Byron called it a “cougar wasteland” in many areas we hit but still, despite the warmer temperatures and rain forecasted he kept pushing.
I was exhausted and honestly, wish I could say I had high hopes, but it was almost T-shirt weather and we were losing snow.
At 3:00 Byron’s cell phone beeped and he picked it up. Jeff had found a track…and a good one!
The clouds were moving in and I knew Byron had a BIG decision to make. We were about 40 minutes away from Jeff and didn’t know how far the cat had gone. But, it was obvious bad weather was coming and Byron decided to take a chance and hope thar we could get a direction of travel at the very least, knowing where to start the next day.
We drove as fast as we could up to where Jeff had found the last track and Byron got out.
Now remember, this man had shown little emotion on all the tracks we had seen so far, but when he saw this one he said, “WHOA!....WHAT A TOAD!.....LETS GO…GAME ON!” :way::way::way:
Now that will get you excited!
Soon, we had collared up and turned the dogs loose, and into the woods they went, and before long, the woods were filled with their sounds.
We traveled down the road to inspect another track Jeff had found, and realized it was the same cat, moving to the south. We decided to wait for the dogs there but then realized they were having a very difficult time getting any scent from the tracks.
The warm temps and recent rainfall over the past hour was evaporating the scent and before long they were back by our sides. Not good.
Byron and Jeff, calm as can be, decided we should walk down the road and into the woods, trying to figure out what had happened.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Byron says, “There.”
Looking down, the very faintest of tracks was in the slush, I still am shocked he saw it. The cat had come onto the frozen road, walked it down, and then went back into the timber, leaving just a faint track on in the slush. Unbelievable, but we were back in the game!
The sun was setting and the weather was turning bad.
Byron took the dogs back in to try and unravel the mystery and soon called that he was in a maze of cougar tracks. It appeared that there was a female and a big male, weaving back and forth, across their tracks and back. The dogs were having a tough time and with good reason.
We couldn’t figure out where the female had come from? Was there a kill, or were they older than we thought they were? To make matters worse, it was raining hard to the north with bad weather forecasted.
Finally, after letting a few dogs run the track to the south, and realizing again that they came back to the timber track we started in, we drove around at last light, looking for any exit tracks…none were found.
If the weather held, and no tracks appeared in the morning, it was very likely that monster was still holed up in the timber.
Would he leave that night to hunt?
Would the rain and snow cover all the evidence if he did?
Time would tell...
Day 6
We awoke to warm weather again and headed to eat breakfast before returning to the last track. I was stressed out, tired and very unsure what would happen.
Byron had decided that it was likely a female had been in the timber and the big male, a breeder, had found her and was holed up with her, much like a rut crazed whitetail.
Byron collared up the dogs and headed into the last track to help them work the maze out. He had located the last tracks headed north, and started there.
Soon, he radioed and said, “ I found their bed and its fresh.”
We circled around and got the bow and gear ready to head into the timber when a call from Byron came in .
“Jeff, get the gun, this cat is bayed up on a log only a foot or two off the ground, this could get ugly.”
Honestly, after being with these dogs all week, I really wasn’t thinking about bow or gun, but only that these courageous hounds didn’t get killed.
Byron has lost a couple dogs to these big cats and he says its like them fighting Edward Scissor hands. There only mission in life is to get these cats, and they will risk their lives to do it…fearless!
Soon, Byron called back and said that he had left the log and was in a “leaner”, a tree about twenty feet up that was broken and at an angle.
I threw the bow sling over my shoulder and grabbed my back pack. It was finally time. The snow began to fall harder as Jeff and I headed into the timber filled with Spruce, Pine and snow.
With each step the barks grew louder and soon I could make the image of the dogs out through the vast pine forest.
I ducked under a spruce branch and saw Jeff looking straight up. There, twenty feet off the ground was the tom, and WHAT a cat he was.
He looked down with almost contempt at the noisy creatures below him, most likely thinking of them as mosquitoes rather than a threat.
In all honestly, if he wanted to, he could kill each dog easily, but not wanting to waste energy and time, most likely climb high and wait them out.
We chained the dogs up and I prepared for the shot I had dreamed of for so long.
All the time, days, and years it had taken to finally see one of the amazing animals was all now worth it.
Waiting for the right angle, it all happened very fast as the first arrow caught the lung, and with the size of the animal and risk to the dogs, Jeff told me to place one more. This arrow clipped the heart and almost immediately he was down.
I am not ashamed to say that I very rarely get emotional. My wife joked when she married me that she wouldn't say ‘I do’ until she saw me cry.
I shed a tear at the alter that July afternoon this summmer, and as I sat there in the snow on both knees that day in the Alberta forest, I shed a tear as well.
I think mostly for my respect for this animal, all the time I had spent thinking of, studying and dreaming of the day I'd finally meet one of these powerful predators face to face.
I finally said a prayer like I always do and walked over to him. To say he was big was an understatement, and i could hunt for twenty more years and not take a cat as beautiful or perfect.
Jeff, myself and the REAL HEROES that day...
His paws were larger than my hands, and it took three of us to lift him, in which I could only hold him for 10 seconds before having to let him down and try again.
Jeff and Byron have seen A LOT of cats, and they said 175-180 pounds and that I would be hard pressed to beat him.
It isnt hard to see how efficient these predators are at taking down moose, elk and 'other" animals as you will soon see.
They often jump on an elk or moose back, bite the back of their neck and use the off leg to reach around and grab the nose.
Once they accomplish this, they quickly pull back and break their preys neck.
Then they will drag them off and bury what they dont eat, to return daily until they are through and move to the next meal.
After "trying" to lift this cat, I cant imagine getting hit at full speed from
behind, to be followed by razor sharp claws and teeth.
As we field dressed him Byron told me to look at something and he just smiled as I tried to figure it out.
"Its a horse his son said, you took down a horse killer."
His stomach's contents were full of horse hair, a Blue Roan to be exact.
Talk about eerie...
.
As we drove home, excited as bunch of kids on Christmas morning, the snow fell harder and continued all night. It was surreal to say the least as all the tracks we had located would have been gone by Sunday.
We ate cougar steaks for breakfast the next morning, and the rest will be donated to an upcoming wildlife banquet.
In summary, to me, taking this old tom, one that had spread his genes, taken many lives, and lived his life in the mountains of Alberta was what I had dreamed of.
It is the one and only cougar I will ever take. That I promise.
I do however hope to one day hear the hounds singing again and accompany a friend into the wilds of the west in pursuit of this awesome animal.
And the next time somebody says, “I am not sure if I’d want to hunt cougars, it just seems so easy with the dogs and…..”
I’ll cut them off and say….........”Let me tell you a story…..”
Thanks for reading.
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