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Tip o' the Day

There's a difference between grizzly bears and mountain lions. No, I'm not talking about their obvious physical properties; I'm referring to tactics appropriate in an encounter with each animal.

According to all the latest research, in a sudden encounter with a cougar (mountain lion), you can throw out much of what you've learned about responding to grizzly bears in similar situations.

If you discover a big cat in close proximity, never play dead; it's the worst thing you can do! Don't even so much as crouch. Instead, stand tall. Spread your jacket or shirt to appear larger--cougars can be intimidated by size.

Conversely, appearing larger to the fearless grizzly bear may make him feel threatened and trigger a violent reprisal. Playing dead with the same animal may, so it is said, lead the bear to conclude you pose no threat. Playing dead with a mountain lion, on the other hand, can lead the big cat to view you as a ready-made table delicacy.

Never turn you back on a cougar. They usually attack from the rear.

Do not jog alone in cougar country. There is evidence a cat's predatory instincts can be triggered by running humans who unwittingly mimic actions of the big felines' normal prey (several joggers have been attacked, each while jogging alone along isolated foothill roads and trails).

If you encounter a lion, all advisories tell you not to panic or make quick movements. Most tell you, also, to talk calmly to the cat, while backing slowly away.

Many of the same printed materials says never make direct eye contact; that "mountain lions may perceive eye contact as a threat." But I don't buy that one. Most info sheets will also tell you to avoid eye contact with a grizzly bear, and THAT I feel prudent--I don't want him to feel threatened. But if a cat can be threatened, and I already feel threatened, I want him to join the crowd.

I like the information released by the British Columbia Ministry of Environment: "If a cougar is advancing toward you, make a lot of noise by yelling and screaming. Use a club or stout stick to poke at him while continuing to make noise. Back away."

Everybody says "don't panic." One state advises you to "talk calmly" while one province advises "yelling and screaming." Of course, telling a person not to panic while a cougar is advancing with visions of pot roast is akin to saying,"don't get pimples." And advising one to talk calmly is probably appropriate advice for lion tamers, but hardly suitable for a computer programmer from New Jersey who's out for a day stroll in Glacier Park.

Yelling and screaming sounds like better advice; it sounds as if it's a pearl of wisdom I would find easy to follow. Was I lucky, it might even come out as something more than a whimper.

I have just finished The Phantom Ghost of Harriet Lou. Wow! It was wonderful! I was transported from my stateroom aboard a destroyer to the wilderness I roamed as a teenager. Your tales were well told, enlightening and dead on the money. The open ocean on a calm clear night is beautiful, but I'll never hear the hoarse bellow of a rutting bull. Driving a warship from the bridge into heavy seas and tailing green water is exhulting, but not nearly as much as stumbling across grizzly tracks that haven't begun to fill in. Thank you for sharing with me. My dad sent me the Thursday Great Falls Tribune, no matter where I am in the world for the last 13 years. I have always enjoyed your writing, but this book was special.

COPING WITH AGE IN A TECHNO WORLD

The guy knows computers. He also knows all about Sunset Strip, Manhattan's skyline (before 9-11), and Lakeshore Drive. In those days I knew something about about horses and how to find my way around where mountains scratch a man's itch. At the time I had a crying need to know how to work the on/off switch on an Apple computer.

After a couple of marathon training sessions, my wife and I were almost ready to try the Apple switch and Bill and his wife Mary were deep into the planning stage of a late May packtrip with Jane and me into the Bob Marshall Wilderness. I found not a little humor in the fact that the methodical computer hacker with the overstuffed brain had all the appearance of being so caught up in his wilderness trip preparation that one would think he was embarking on a discovery expedition to the headwaters of the Blue Nile.

Meanwhile Jane and I yawned and concentrated on preparing to attend the Northeast Montana Farm Expo in Plentywoodm, scheduled for that year in late March. But if one were a casual observer watching our frenetic efforts to prepare, one would think ours a Blue Nile foray, also.

"What do I wear?" Jane asked.

"Clothes," I replied, then ducked.

I'll wear denim trousers on the horseback trip to White River Park over Memorial Day weekend. And if all goes well, I'll wear swim trunks in the river near day's end. If Jane and I decide to climb a mountain sans horses, I'll slip into a pair of hiking shorts. But what to suggest appropriate wear for my wife at a Plentywood Farm Expo leaves me perplexed.

I was to speak to a couple of Sheridan County school assemblies: the first to grades one through four, the second from five through eight. I suspected that I'd be expected to address the Expo banquet, but at that point I hadn't a clue.

Should we stop off en route to peddle our outdoor books and do some p.r. for our forthcoming Westerns? Search me.

When Jane asked how long we might be gone I could only shrug. Maybe that's why she seemed to be in some kind of pique when she rather sharply said:

"It's funny, but you can take off into the middle of the Bob Marshall Wilderness for weeks at a time, and plan everything right down to a single horseshoe nail, but you can't plan a simple day-long drive across the top of Montana's Hi-Line--why is that?"

It's true. My shingle was out as a guide for over twenty years, and I had it down to a gnat's eyelash, even traveling a land so remote there were no 7-11s, and where Ronald McDonald was absent around every corner. But now when I have, and am trying to foster, a reputation as a bonafide wildlands and wildlife expert, you think I can handle tame life?

Okay, Bill, maybe I can understand why you're worried whether Mary can stand the pressure of straddling a pie-eyed bronc along a cliff-skirting trail, or while daring terrifying river crossings. I can even grasp your desire to have a tent that doesn't leak and enough oats to keep your ponies mollified. But have you ever stood tongue-tied in front of a whole school auditorium filled with wildly wriggling seven-year-olds?

What, pray tell, does one do when they all file by in a mile-long line after your speech and want to have the back of their hands signed by an honest-to-gosh mountain man? Not to mention the embarrassment when I show up in a Woolworth suit and everybody else is dressed in Woolrich shirts and Levi jeans?

And while you're at it, what happens when lightning strikes the Apple while you're working on it and it turns to a prune?

 

 

Roland Cheek wrote a syndicated outdoors column (Wild Trails and Tall Tales) for 21 years. The column was carried in 17 daily and weekly newspapers in two states. In addition, he scripted and broadcast a daily radio show (Trails to Outdoor Adventure) that aired on 75 stations from the Atlantic seaboard to the Pacific Ocean. He's also written upwards of 200 magazine articles and 12 fiction and nonfiction books. For more on Roland, visit:

www.rolandcheek.com

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