Teresa Santoski

Planning a getaway during a pandemic is no easy task, and those difficulties can quickly be compounded when you have to deal with unexpected stress. Instead of breaking out that book you’ve been meaning to read, you suddenly find yourself Googling survival skills.

Mom and I recently drove out to my uncle’s guest cottage in the Finger Lakes in upstate New York for a socially distanced staycation. We welcomed the opportunity to stay indoors while enjoying a change of scenery.

It was pitch-black by the time we got off the highway and began driving through the small towns and farmland that would eventually lead to the lake. We were exhausted after the long drive, and we hoped to offload quickly and get right to bed.

And then, we remembered about the mountain lion.

We first saw the mountain lion a few years ago, illuminated in our headlights a short distance away as we drove down the lake road at night. Everyone thought we were mistaken at first because mountain lions aren’t typically found in that area.

But after a few other people saw it, it became clear that the animal had settled in and decided to stay. The mountain lion had left pawprints in the area as recently as a few days before our arrival.

And so, 20 minutes before we would be turning onto the lake road, Mom and I were trying to figure out what to do if the mountain lion approached us while we were getting out of the car. Since they’re nocturnal creatures, there was a possibility we might encounter it then.

“Do we make ourselves look bigger?” Mom asked. “Or do we try to look small and nonthreatening?”

After a few minutes of frantic Googling, I found an article titled “Your Safety in Mountain Lion Habitat,” courtesy of Point Reyes National Seashore in northern California, part of the U.S. National Park Service. The information shared within was helpful but most definitely not comforting.

According to the article, if you see a mountain lion, you should stay calm and either hold your ground or back away slowly. Whatever you do, do not turn your back on the animal, and do not bend over.

“Biologists surmise mountain lions don’t recognize standing humans as prey,” the article explained. “On the other hand, a person squatting or bending over looks a lot like a four-legged prey animal. If you’re in mountain lion habitat, avoid squatting, crouching or bending over, even when picking up children.”

That made sense – at least, the part about why you shouldn’t bend over. But how on earth do you pick up a child without squatting, crouching or bending over?

As Mom and I were mulling over this physical impossibility, I read on about what to do if the mountain lion starts behaving aggressively: “Attempt to appear larger by raising your arms and opening your jacket if you are wearing one. Wave your arms slowly and speak firmly in a loud voice.”

Well, that answered our question about whether we should try to look bigger or smaller. Bigger it was.

“If looking bigger doesn’t scare the mountain lion off, without crouching or turning your back, start throwing stones, branches or whatever you can reach in its direction,” the article continued. “Aim for the ground in front of it; don’t throw things directly at it just yet. Think of these as warning shots.”

But … how do we pick up things to throw at the mountain lion if we can’t bend over?

The article was prepared for this question. “One might ask: ‘How do I reach stones or branches without bending down?’ If you are in a trailcut, you could get rocks to throw from the side of the trailcut. If you are in a wooded area, you might be able to find a loose branch within reach.”

What if we’re standing in the middle of a driveway and have a good hundred feet of wide-open space between us and the front door?

“You will probably be carrying a backpack or fanny pack containing hard items that can be thrown, like water bottles, and you could retrieve those while remaining upright to use as projectiles. But don’t throw everything you have, though,” the article warned. “You might want to hold on to one metallic or hard plastic water bottle in reserve to use as a club or as weight in your backpack or fanny pack, which can be swung at the cat if it gets close enough.”

OK. So, I should start off by throwing small items like my pocket-sized hand sanitizer as a warning, and if the mountain lion doesn’t take the hint, I should brandish my purse like a club. Got it.

If the mountain lion continues to move in our direction despite these efforts, the article gave us permission to start throwing things directly at the animal – but not at its head, which could result in the animal being blinded in one eye.

“Mountain lions are very dependent upon their sight – particularly depth perception – in order to successfully hunt their natural prey. … A hungry, stressed mountain lion with only one good eye, upon observing an abundance of slow, frequently inattentive bipeds on park trails may attack one of us humans, hoping for an easy meal.”

Mom hesitated. “So, we’re supposed to be careful of its eyes while it’s trying to devour us? That’s a lot more consideration than the mountain lion is showing us.”

If all else fails, the article concluded, fight back. Remember, the mountain lion will go for your head and your neck, so try to use your backpack as body armor. And whatever you do, don’t turn your back on it.

Armed with this information – and more than a little unnerved – Mom and I pulled into the driveway of the guest cottage. After taking a moment to determine what we needed to bring in from the car, we gathered our courage and got out of the vehicle.

Mom opened her coat and waved her arms, just in case the mountain lion happened to be watching. “Big! Large! Biped!” she declared firmly.

As I was carrying my club/purse filled with warning-shot projectiles, I couldn’t really engage in the recommended coat-opening and arm-waving. But I could say something in a firm voice to make sure the mountain lion knew I wasn’t prey.

“Two legs good! Four legs bad!” I offered, in hopes that the mountain lion had read “Animal Farm” and would be stunned into submission by my witty reversal of the animals’ revolutionary slogan.

The only other thing I could think to say was “Don’t eat me!” which sounded less like a predator asserting dominance and more like prey begging for mercy.

Our efforts must have worked, however, as we saw neither hide nor hair of the mountain lion as we offloaded the bare necessities and hustled into the cottage. So, many thanks to the wildlife experts at Point Reyes for helping us prepare for the worst-case scenario, and many thanks to the mountain lion for staying in its den.

Though our pandemic getaway didn’t have the most relaxing start, I’m pleased to say that I did make a good dent in that book I’d been meaning to read. And my reading experience was made even more relaxing due to the fact that the book had nothing to do with mountain lions.

Tete-a-tete is published monthly. Teresa Santoski can be reached at tsantoski@gmail.com or via www.teresasantoski.com.

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