The Mountain Lion Hunt that turned into a Hound Rescue
Hunting Mountain Lions in the freezing high desert country of Nevada on foot is one of the most physical and mentally challenging adventures you can push yourself to. There is nothing more physically exhausting than wading through knee deep snow for countless miles on uneven rocky cliff type terrain in subzero temperatures.
After a good winter storm hit with snowfall down to the valley floor, I found myself in Northwestern Nevada hunting mountain lions. Northwestern Nevada is one of the most remote areas in the West. The only vegetation to be found is a few juniper trees, sage and bitter brush. The valleys are covered with arroyos, and the hillsides are covered with vertical rock faces. The ground soil is mostly sand or clay.
I was driving down one of the few old mining roads that lead about halfway up the mountain, when I spotted a fresh lion track crossing a rocky rim. I stopped and thought about past hunts in this rough road less country. I knew it would be all foot work from the start. I couldn’t help myself from the addiction I have of hearing hounds do what they were bred to do. I decided to face the challenge and turn loose on the lion track. There was no doubt that the track was made sometime during the night. One thing about lions is if they don’t make a kill they can sometimes travel for miles in very rough terrain in one nights travel.
I put Little Bit and Fern out on the track. Little Bit being my most cat savvy hound with countless bobcat and a lot of lions victories stuck her nose in that track, and drew in a deep nose full of lion scent. She took off in a dead run. This female is a head up high cold trailer and don’t waste much time smelling the same spot twice. She has many bobcats to her credit, so unraveling this hot lion track was a piece of cake for her. Fern is only 13 months old and amazing for her age. She was right on Bit’s heels. Millie was turned in behind Little Bit and Fern by that time they were close to being out of hearing so she had some moving to do and quickly if she was going to get in on the race. Little Bit and Fern seemed to disappear in only one quick movement. I figured Millie should catch up because the other dogs had already beaten down a trail in the snow.
This hunt was taking place during a break of a long running series of snowstorms. The dark clouds coming in from the West denotes snow is soon to come. My hopes were that the lion would make a kill somewhere close and my dogs would quickly tree the Lion. Fern would get some good training on a fresh track. Bit moved the track out like it was jumped from the start. The dogs faded out of hearing within minutes. I stood there in the road straining to hear my and began to carry the rack with the skull attached with me, to take to my son. He loves that kind of stuff. I put the rack down at the base of the cliff where the dogs had the lion bayed, so I could free up my hands to help me climb this almost vertical cliff.
When I began climbing the rock face, I knew the lion bailed over the other side. I also knew Fern was now after the lion by herself. Fern was the only dog in my pack that made it over the rock face and was at a faceoff with her adversary. With Fern after the lion by herself, I thought I better get Little Bit and Millie over the cliff to give Fern some help with this lion. In my opinion more dogs are killed by lions when they are on a lion alone. I know hundreds of lions have been caught with just one dog but it’s not my way. I want at least 2 dogs on them.
The wind picked up some so that cut down my hearing long distances. I got out my tracking equipment to get a direction and pinpoint their location. I was showing them high on the mountain. I quickly gathered up all my cumbersome gear and started my long journey up the mountain in knee deep snow. I was carrying two cameras, one video, and one picture camera. I carry a gun with me, but have no desire to ever use it. I could tree the biggest Lion in all of Nevada and would be completely happy with only shooting it with a camera. I hunt hounds for the hound work only not the harvest. I have no problem leashing my dogs off every Lion tree they make happen. I was by myself on this hunt, I usually hunt alone. I have to use extra caution when climbing up such steep rough rocky country alone. This high desert country can have some of the most challenging obstacles to overcome. You always have to keep in mind that one slip or fall could cost you your life. The temperatures plummet down to the single digits or below zero at night. One wrong move and you could look like Hatchet Jack overnight. I always carry my survival gear with me in my pack. I hate all the weight but it could possibly save my life in a survival situation.
As I was pulling up to the top of the first small hill, I could hear the dogs were caught! All three females were laying the leather to that lion. Hearing them just made me kick it into another gear. I just have recently had both knees operated on and it’s defiantly slowed me down, I’m also not getting any younger. Climbing steep Rocky Mountains hurt a lot more than they used to. Add all the extra weight, I had strapped on me and it pushes me to my physical and mental limits. High altitude Lion hunting in the freezing temperatures is pure physical punishment.
When I got to the top of the first rise I stopped to rest. Little Bit, Millie, and Fern were just going berserk. I was standing there breathing hard and trying to judge the distance of the dogs. Judging distances in the high desert can be difficult. I knew I still had a lot of ground to cover to get to the dogs. About halfway up the mountain I had all my upper clothing either stuffed in my pack or tied around my waist. I like to dress in layers when I’m out in the elements. I wear moisture wicking long handles. Cotton clothing is the worst, they just get wet with sweat and you will freeze once you stop moving.
It took me around two and ½ hours to get to where I could make out the dogs and lion bayed on the edge of a rock cliff. I could see Little Bit and Millie rubbing off their toe nails trying to claw their way up the rock face. They could get within five feet from the lion. There was a small rock outcropping just big enough for one dog. Little Bit and Millie seemed to take turns getting their spot on that small rock outcropping. The lion was just sitting on top of the cliff having a stare down up with Fern about five feet from his face blowing her horn every breath. Fern was the only dog that figured a route through the cracks in the cliff to get to the lion. The lion was just sitting down on all fours with his ears laid back waiting for his opportunity to strike at Fern.
When I got about 500 yards away or so, I stopped to get the cameras out, I began filming the dogs baying the lion. I pulled out my picture camera and took a few photos. I was really pushing my zoom lens to its maximum distance.
After a few minutes spent filming and taking photos, I really started to move up the hill to get to the dogs. I didn’t want the other two dogs to figure out a way over the cliff, because they wouldn’t even hesitate to grab that lion. This was Ferns second lion so she still showed the lion the respect they deserve. A bayed lion on rock cliff or out in sage flats are in my opinion more dangerous to your dogs than a bayed bear. For some reason dogs seem to think they can whip a lion.
As I pulled myself over this huge rock I found myself face to face with a nice lion killed mule deer buck. It’s a crying shame that it had to become a lion’s dinner. There are deer hunters that would have loved to take such a nice buck. I pulled the partly covered deer out of the snow to give it a good look over. I cut the head off the face of the cliff and was able to grab Little Bit and Millie by their collars and pull them up and over the cliff. Bit and Millie were out of sight in just seconds. Fern was out of hearing headed up and over the monstrous snowcapped mountain of rock jumbles. I knew it wouldn’t take them long to catch up to Fern.
When I left my rig my E-trek was reading about 4500 feet in elevation, it was now reading close to 7000 feet. I was only about 500 yards from the summit. The problem was it was 500 yards of cliffs and rock jumbles covered in snow. It was going to be a hard trek getting over the top with my already haggard legs. I mustered up the energy that hound hunters get when they are going to their dogs. I got in the dogs and lion’s trail and followed it to the top. When the lion reached the top he dropped down the ridgeline of the mountain. The good news was he was heading towards some scattered out trees. I was hoping that the lion would tree. The bad news is I noticed Fern thought she could climb a tree as well as a lion. I had been having trouble with her climbing bobcat trees. These desert juniper trees are short with limbs growing almost all the way to the ground making it easy for dogs to try and climb. I scolded her and jerked her out of the last tree but, I know she will still climb the next one. Tree climbing dogs are bad news, they end up pushing the lion out of the tree and the dogs on the ground may grab the lion before it can get to another tree causing the dogs on the ground to possibly get ate up or killed. A lion can absolutely shred a dog in no time if the dogs don’t show them much respect. It’s not so much that I worry about my hounds getting injured by the Lion as I’m more worried about the infection that they can get from being bit or claw by a Lion or Bobcat. Felines carry some form of bacteria that can cause horrible infections, that if isn’t treated quickly can possibly lead to huge vet bills and ever death.
I got out over a big rock outcropping and could hear the dogs were caught way off down below me. I knew they were a long ways off because, I was having trouble hearing them vary plain because of the distance and the howling winds.
The sun was starting to set and the temperature was plummeting quickly. I had to make a decision, do I try and make it to the dogs or go back to the truck, before it got dark and risk having to stay the night out in the freezing winter elements. At this point of the hunt I was completely exhausted. I had been climbing over boulders and cliffs all day long while carrying a lot of weight. My knees were throbbing. I wasn’t even sure if I could make it to the dogs. They were a long ways off. I decided to try and call them out. I knew it was a waste of time. They probably couldn’t even hear me over the wind and their frantic barking. Little Bit was the most determined to catch, unremitting dog I have owned, and now Fern is becoming the same way.
I decided to leave the dogs and start my long hike back to the truck. This is very hard, to go back knowing that anything could happen throughout the night. I also knew Fern was very likely going to climb the tree and possibly run the lion out and Little Bit and Millie would be there to fight it as soon as it landed on the ground.
There was nothing I could do. I had to use what little energy I had to get off the mountain. I was out of water and just finished off my only power bar. This hunt did teach me something, and that was to add a few more things to my backpack. Add one of those small backpack cook stoves and a small tin bowl to melt snow for drinking water. I got so thirsty, I tried to eat a handful of snow and it was as dry as eating a handful of dust.
I was going to follow my trail back down the mountain so I could grab the mule deer rack. The problem was the wind had blown my tracks full, so that ended that idea. I knew about where I left the rack. As I climbed down the mountain I overshot the mule deer rack by a few hundred yards. I wasn’t about to turn around and climb back up the mountain to retrieve the mule deer rack, I was way too exhausted.
I got to my pickup just as the sun was gone. I pulled out my slide in dog box and left it on the side of the road where the dogs left on the track. It was where I came into the road. I was really reaching for hopes that when I arrived back in the morning, I would be lucky enough to find all 3 dogs in it. I knew it wouldn’t happen, but I was wishing for a miracle.
Now to top off all this big mess with the dogs when I started taking my gear off I realized I had lost my video camera somewhere up on the mountain. I was mad but knew I had about zero chance in finding it. I quickly chalked it up as a loss just like a few hand held radios, a pistol, and countless dog leashes that I have lost over the years. The camera was new and I dreaded telling my wife that not only did I lose our new video camera I also left our entire pack of hounds out in the woods in freezing temperatures and a storm brewing. I knew my little boy was going to be upset about our dogs being out.
The drive home I was worried sick over my dog situation. I felt sick to my stomach, knowing I left them. That night I didn’t sleep worth a darn. As exhausted as I was I was too worried about my dogs to sleep very deeply. I was up before the alarm clock and out of the house way before daybreak.
When I left my house, it was a complete blizzard snowstorm. The wind was blowing about 25 mph. I arrived at the lonely looking dog box I left out only to find it about half blown full of new snow. There was about 4 inches of new snow on the roof of my dog box. I couldn’t even get a signal from my tracking collars. I was becoming very skeptical about getting my dogs in a storm like the one I was out in. I knew there was no way to walk back up that mountain and get to them. The weather was just too horrific.
I began to wonder what they were doing. Were they treed or bayed in rocks? I had them earlier in the fall during bear season stay treed on a bear from Tuesday morning until Wednesday afternoon around 4 o’clock that afternoon before I could get to them. But that was fall weather not a serious blizzard.
I got to a high point in the road and stopped the truck to walk out on a rocky point to try and get a direction on my tracking collars. It was a constant struggle for my sore leg muscles to hike to the point. I got a signal on all three dogs and was showing them in the same area.
The problem was there was no way I could hike to them in the blizzard that was hitting the desert. My face felt like it was getting hit with a BB gun each time the small pieces of ice smashed into my face. I couldn’t even see the layout of the land, where my signal was coming from. I was just going off of what I remembered it looking like. I decided to leave the dogs out again. It seemed like it was my only choice, considering the weather that I was being blasted with. I just prayed that they would be okay and make it through this snowstorm. Hounds are super tough animals and I knew the area they were in had a lot of caves and outcropping that may help them get out of the weather.
I decided to go home and get my snowmobile started and ready. I haven’t had to use it in the last two winters much. I started it a few times during the summer months, just to let it run for a while. My brother was on his way up to hunt a few days so at least I would have someone in the area in case I needed some help getting my dogs out.
The next morning I was loaded up and ready to go on a hound rescue. I had my snowmobile and snowshoes, plenty of water, food and rest. I was still sore but I was so determined to get my dogs that nothing was going to stop me from retrieving them. I got on my snowmobile at 06:00 am headed for the top of the big mountain. There is kind of a road and cow trail mix headed up the mountain but it’s not possible to even drive a truck in good weather. When the snow is up over the sage brush you can ride a snowmobile out across country. I took the snowmobile as far as safely possible and parked it. I had my hand held radio to try and stay in contact with my brother. He was going to try and catch a lion while I was on my rescue mission. School was out for the day so my brother Greg had his oldest boy Garret and my son Clayton with him. I pulled my radio out from it case and called over the radio to tell Greg that I was heading out on snowshoes, and parked the snowmobile. I got Garret on the radio and he told me that Greg was out of the truck walking out a lion track.
I left the snowmobile on snowshoes heading in the direction I was showing the dogs. I walked for about an hour and was starting to get tired. I stopped at a high point to get a direction and was showing the dogs north and still some distance away. I kept on moving to the north. I was hitting the north slopes to find in spots about five feet of new snow. Snowshoes work miracles in deep snow. I walked for what seemed like countless miles, but it was only about two miles. I was starting to give out, so I stopped to rest and call for my dogs. I pulled out my bugle horn and let out some long loud blows and the sounds just echoed and bounced off the rocky canyon walls. I took a seat on a rock after I brushed all the snow off of it. I sat down and pulled out my tracking gear to get a signal on the dogs. When I turned the box on their signals were blowing me away. This gave me the boost of energy I needed.
I started blowing the horn and firing off my 22 pistol. The signal I was getting on the tracking box, I knew that the dogs could hear me if they were still alive. I called for about 30 minutes with no response. I was starting to think the worst. I started down into the next canyon when I thought I seen movement over in a big jumble of rocks. I strained my eyes to focus on the area, but didn’t see it again.
I started for the rock pile on the other side of the canyon. About every 200 yards I would stop and turn my gain down on my tracking box to help close the gap on the dogs. Being a California resident they made it illegal to use GPS back in the mid-nineties. You would think that the tree huggers would want you to be able to locate your dogs. Instead they banned them before they were even out on the market and available. After this hunt I made up my mind that I hunt out of state enough to justify buying some Garmin’s. I can find dogs with what is legal that is just out dated, it has helped me a lot and I wouldn’t dare turn a dog loose without a collar on them. I just wished we could use the GPS system also and I’m sure everyone reading this from California feels the same way.
I got so close to the dogs that I was just getting swamped with a signal. I had the gain almost down as far as it would go. I began just scanning all the rock piles in the area looking for movement. Finally I saw Millie’s head looking straight at me. I hurried up to where I seen her. She was out on a ledge with about a twenty foot vertical drop below; next to her was Little Bit and Fern! They were alive! They were a pitiful sight. They were all swollen up with lacerations, bite marks and scratches all over their faces. They were all completely covered in coagulated blood. Little Bit being the oldest, with a graying muzzle looked up at me with a doleful look on her face, with blood and battle scars everywhere. She looked at me like it took you long enough!
I climbed down and had to lift each of them up to their feet and up and over the cliff’s edge. These dogs were in need of some medical attention. None of the wounds were out of my league of care. I just needed to get them off this mountain and home. They left out on that track looking a little heavy, as I like them with some extra weight in this cold winter weather just for this reason. They now looked like they went through the holocaust. When a dog is tired, sore, beat-up, and hungry when you find them you will have to literally lift them up on their feet. They will bed down until they die from the elements if they are in bad enough shape.
With all three dogs we started our long rough journey back to the snowmobile. The dogs were tired but stayed right in my snowshoe tracks. It seemed like no time I was back to the snowmobile, but that was just because I was excited about getting my dogs back. I finally got back to my truck with the dogs only to find a note on my windshield tucked under the wiper. It was a note from my brother telling me that he was stuck and was going to have to stay in his truck with the boys until the road froze back up. The note said that they had plenty of food and water and were just about a mile down the road over the summit.
I loaded the dogs in the bed of the truck. I had no dog box because I left it down the road in case the dogs came out on their own accord. I have a camper shell on my truck so the dogs were fine until I went and got my box. I drove quickly down the road and picked up my box. I pulled all the hay out of it because it had snow all over it. I laid down one of my coats and a pair of my coveralls for the dogs to bed down on.
I turned around and went to the top of the mountain and called my brother over the radio. He didn’t answer my transmission so I started honking my horn thinking maybe he could hear me. I could see his rig about half a mile down the other side of the mountain road. Suddenly he came across the radio. I told him to lock up his truck and hike back up the hill with the boys and his hounds. This way they won’t have to spend the night in his truck. He said they were on their way. While they were walking back up the hill, I started getting my truck ready for everyone to fit. If you are ever out in the desert and the ground thaws out your best bet is to stop and wait for the ground to freeze back up. Once you are stuck you can’t get out. There is no bottom to the desert floor. I’ve seen rigs almost to their fan belts in just a few minutes. It’s normally chucker hunters from the valley that don’t know the desert road conditions. A tractor can hardly pull you out. A winch doesn’t do you much good if there are no trees around, which is likely the case in the desert. There are few options to do, so it’s best to stay put until it freezes back up.
After everyone got to my rig we loaded up and headed for the house. I was so relieved to get my dogs back that it seemed all my sore muscles were feeling better. I’m sure that a lot of the soreness and tension I was feeling was from the stress of knowing my dogs were not safe in their kennels.
Once I got home I gave all three dogs a shot of penicillin. After wiping off most the dried blood and shaving a laceration that was across Little Bit’s muzzle I finally brought this hunt to an end! The only thing my dogs are going to suffer from is a lot of battle scars, which they already had, and a few more torn tips to their beat up ears.
It was about a week and the dogs were ready to go. I’m trying to get some weight back on them. In the three days they spent out in the elements, they lost a lot of weight to survive. I just can’t wait to get back out there for round#2 with that Lion.
If anyone ever tells you lion hunting in the snow is easy than they haven’t did much of it. I have been hunting hounds my entire life and found some of the toughest hunts I have endured were out in the treacherous high desert country climbing icy rock cliffs after those stealthily climbing lions. To me there is nothing more pretty than staring eye to eye with a pumpkin headed tom lion. They have enough power to take down a full grown mustang stallion with a single bite to the base of its skull. It’s the thrill of a lifetime and gives me the drive to keep going out there regardless of the terrain, elements, or cost.
I know my path with that lion will cross again someday, and next time hopefully he stays put so I can shoot him with my camera from a little closer! That’s the beauty of hound hunting you can have the most action packed hunt of a lifetime and never fire a single round. To me one of the nicest trophies ever is a action packed hound picture mounted in a frame. Knowing I bred, raised, and trained the dogs that made that memory possible. The love of the hounds is what gives hound hunters the motivation and determination to get through the situations we are faced with along the trails.
After the spring thaw I hike up into the rims and retrieved the Mule Deer rack for my son. I used the rack to make him a bedside lamp for his room. So in the long run that nice buck wasn’t wasted after all.
