Thank you! I am not sure whether I scared myself or the risk of being attacked by a large cat is real! If the big cats adapted, then I do not believe they would attack human but then, lone hiker hahah
An extract from my 'Quest into the Unknown' you may enjoy, about events on an almost 1000 mile canoe trip on an old but seldom travelled Klondyke gold rush route:
Once, drifting along downstream, stark naked in the sun as was our custom and sliding silently through the water as only a canvas or birch-bark canoe can do, we came round a bend to see a wolf, it's back to us, digging in the river bank. We could hear young birds chirping in a hidden nest. Ken, sitting behind me, quietly slipped his paddle into the water and steered us towards it. Just before the bows touched the bank, I reached out with my paddle and slapped the wolf on its bum. I swear it leapt vertically in the air and whilst still airborne, spun round, saw these naked apparitions and took off, cartoon-like, into the woods without ever touching the ground! We collapsed in the canoe and laughed the rest of the day.
Another day we heard a banshee-like screech coming from downstream, enough to make our hair stand on end. Was it a Sasquatch - the Yeti of the American wilderness? Again we slipped into stealth mode and paddled on cautiously, paddles never leaving the water, to see a lynx on a sand bank, totally pre-occupied, playing 'cat and mouse' with a gopher. As we drew quietly nearer, we could see it let the gopher go, turn its back on it and walk away ten yards or so to a position on the riverbank high above. The gopher lay trembling on the beach. Was it free to go? It took a cautious step. Its tormentor ignored it studiously. It took another step nearer to freedom - nothing happened. Then it set off fast, making for the undergrowth by the water's edge.
The lynx leapt through the air, raced down the beach and with another blood curdling scream caught it with one large paw and threw it high in the air. By this time, we had touched shore. The lynx was still unaware of our presence, so intense was its concentration on its prey. Once again in nature's glory, we stepped out of the canoe armed with our paddles, knights to the rescue. We had nothing to worry about - one look at these alien life forms and the lynx forgot the gopher and made a dash for the forest! The small animal lay quivering, wondering what new nightmare was about to befall it. We carried it into the undergrowth where it lay as though dead. By the time we'd had lunch, it had gone - our second good deed in two days but sadly counteracted by the fine fat rabbit we shot and ate that night (though we did share the scraps with a red fox that sat on the edge of our camp fire glow, eyeing us with curiosity). Such is life!
It really was, all the way from Inuvik on the eastern shore of the Mackenzie River delta to Fort Yukon on the Yukon River. Loved every minute of it though going upriver and portaging to Summit Lake was never easy.
These photos are brilliant.
Thank you, Chris!!!
Excellent, both well written and scary!
Thank you! I am not sure whether I scared myself or the risk of being attacked by a large cat is real! If the big cats adapted, then I do not believe they would attack human but then, lone hiker hahah
An extract from my 'Quest into the Unknown' you may enjoy, about events on an almost 1000 mile canoe trip on an old but seldom travelled Klondyke gold rush route:
Once, drifting along downstream, stark naked in the sun as was our custom and sliding silently through the water as only a canvas or birch-bark canoe can do, we came round a bend to see a wolf, it's back to us, digging in the river bank. We could hear young birds chirping in a hidden nest. Ken, sitting behind me, quietly slipped his paddle into the water and steered us towards it. Just before the bows touched the bank, I reached out with my paddle and slapped the wolf on its bum. I swear it leapt vertically in the air and whilst still airborne, spun round, saw these naked apparitions and took off, cartoon-like, into the woods without ever touching the ground! We collapsed in the canoe and laughed the rest of the day.
Another day we heard a banshee-like screech coming from downstream, enough to make our hair stand on end. Was it a Sasquatch - the Yeti of the American wilderness? Again we slipped into stealth mode and paddled on cautiously, paddles never leaving the water, to see a lynx on a sand bank, totally pre-occupied, playing 'cat and mouse' with a gopher. As we drew quietly nearer, we could see it let the gopher go, turn its back on it and walk away ten yards or so to a position on the riverbank high above. The gopher lay trembling on the beach. Was it free to go? It took a cautious step. Its tormentor ignored it studiously. It took another step nearer to freedom - nothing happened. Then it set off fast, making for the undergrowth by the water's edge.
The lynx leapt through the air, raced down the beach and with another blood curdling scream caught it with one large paw and threw it high in the air. By this time, we had touched shore. The lynx was still unaware of our presence, so intense was its concentration on its prey. Once again in nature's glory, we stepped out of the canoe armed with our paddles, knights to the rescue. We had nothing to worry about - one look at these alien life forms and the lynx forgot the gopher and made a dash for the forest! The small animal lay quivering, wondering what new nightmare was about to befall it. We carried it into the undergrowth where it lay as though dead. By the time we'd had lunch, it had gone - our second good deed in two days but sadly counteracted by the fine fat rabbit we shot and ate that night (though we did share the scraps with a red fox that sat on the edge of our camp fire glow, eyeing us with curiosity). Such is life!
Wowsers! What an adventure!
It really was, all the way from Inuvik on the eastern shore of the Mackenzie River delta to Fort Yukon on the Yukon River. Loved every minute of it though going upriver and portaging to Summit Lake was never easy.