Send the magazine to someone who'd like to see Washington State as it's never been seen before
Current Issue
Past Issues - Review sample articles from past issues of Washington State Magazine
Photo Galleries - View photos of Washington's people and places--and more
Web Exclusives - Read exclusive features only available on the website
Buy books by WSU faculty and alumni.
Read reviews of books by faculty and alumns.
Class Notes - Stay up-to-date with fellow alumni and leave your own messages and announcements.
Make a tax-deductible gift to the Washington State Magazine Excellence Fund.
The latest word on WSU research.
Advertise to our 130,000 readers in Washington, the West and throughout the nation.
Let us know what you think.
Send address or personal info change.
Get Washington State Magazine at home.
Send the magazine to someone who'd like to see Washington State as it's never been seen before
 
Page 1 2 3
 
View Photo Gallery
 
  Counting cougs      

 


Cooley and dog

 

The second day of our quest is just as gorgeous as the first.

“It’s beautiful to look at, but for what we wanted to do today, it’s not very good,” says MacArthur. The surface of the snow is even harder than yesterday. The dogs will have a tough time staying with the scent, but we’re going to let them try. We snowmobile an hour in to a spot where he found cougar tracks the day before. Hubner rides with Wilson, I ride with Cooley, and MacArthur pulls a black plastic sled carrying Emma and his two hounds. Sooner’s a black-and-tan, about 11 years old, and vocal. Newly’s an eight-year-old tricolor whose previous owner used her to hunt cougars.

“She’s a one-in-a-million dog,” says MacArthur. She’s a tireless tracker but dangerously quiet, rarely sounding off until she’s on a hot scent or right near a cat.

“I figure it’ll get her eaten some day,” he says. “She’ll be quiet, and jump a cat in the rocks, and that’ll be it. I shouldn’t think things like that. It worries me.”

When we reach the tracks, Emma starts baying immediately. Sooner chimes in. MacArthur releases the dogs, who snuffle avidly around the tracks and then dash away up a small drainage. Emma barks often, Sooner occasionally, Newly not at all. Wilson says we can get excited when we hear Newly bark. But she never does. Within a few minutes, the dogs are back at the start zone. MacArthur urges them onto the trail again, and again they head into the woods. He follows them on foot. We sled out on a parallel track. We see the dogs reach a bare patch, where they circle for a few minutes, then tentatively move on up the drainage. Within 50 yards, they’ve lost the trail.

Cooley appreciates the irony of using hounds to capture the cats that can no longer be legally hunted with dogs. She’s a “dog person” herself, she says, and the chance to work with Emma is one of her favorite parts of the research. She disagrees with the argument made by supporters of the ban that hunting cougars with hounds is not humane. Hounds tree the cat they’re chasing, which allows the hunter to get a good look at the cat before shooting it. The alternative that’s been used since the ban went into effect is to let people shoot on sight.

“They bundled it with a big-game package,” says Cooley. “If you got a deer permit, for an extra five bucks they’d throw in a cougar tag. So there’s tons of people out there trying to get a deer or an elk, and a lot of them have cat tags. The number of cats taken went way up. And the problem with that is, you can’t be selective about it. You see a cat across a field and you shoot it, and you don’t know if it’s an adult or if it’s a juvenile, if it’s a male or a female.” The female harvest went way up, she says, resulting in the death of existing kittens and a steep drop in the production of new litters.

“When it’s in a tree, if you use a hound, you’re right there, and if the hunter is experienced they can tell what sex it is and decide not to take it. It’s more selective,” she says.

She, Wilson, and MacArthur confer and decide our last best chance is to try to find Faith. MacArthur got some beeps from her collar earlier in the day. We ride a couple more bumpy miles and then hike to a hillside that gives the antennas access to a wide span of territory. Beep, beep. Pause. Weaker beep. The cat is moving. Cooley and MacArthur hike on a little further, down another gully and up the next hill, but come back empty. We won’t see a cougar this trip.

_____________________________________________________

The Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife advises people who live near cougar habitat to keep pets and farm animals in enclosed structures at night and to bring children indoors at dusk. When hiking or camping, go with at least one other person, keep children close to you, and make enough noise (normal conversation is enough) that a nearby cougar would hear you coming and have time to move away. If you do encounter a cougar in the wild, don’t run. That would trigger the cougar’s instinct to chase. Try to look bigger than you are, and don’t look away from the cat. If the cougar appears to be aggressive, throw rocks at it, shout, jump up and down—try to convince it you are more trouble than you’re worth.

For some useful tips from the DFW, click here.

_____________________________________________________


“That’s what’s so exciting,” says Cooley, upbeat by nature. “It’s still rare to see them.” The cats’ reputation for secrecy is well deserved. Anyone who spends a lot of time in the wild has probably passed close to a cougar more than once and not realized it. Fortunately, Cooley and the rest of Wielgus’s team have had enough successful days to collar more than 50 cougars of all ages and gather nearly 50,000 GPS points from them.

They found that in the Selkirk Mountains and the Wedge, where hunting pressure is high, kitten survival is low and adults only average between three and four years old. In the Cle Elum area, with far fewer cougars killed by hunters, the average age is double that, and kitten survival is much higher.

In all three places—and despite the difference in hunting pressure—cougar numbers are mostly staying about the same. The Cle Elum population has a healthy number of adult males, and encounters with humans are rare. The Selkirk and Wedge populations have a lot of young males, who migrated in from nearby regions after older males were shot. Sightings and encounters are much more frequent than at Cle Elum.

“Everyone thinks the population’s exploding [in the Selkirks and the Wedge], but they’re not exploding at all,” says Wielgus. “It’s just that you’ve got more of these young, visible, problematic teenagers.”

Despite his group’s painstaking work and solid findings, some politicians and cougar opponents continue to cite increased encounters as proof the cougar population is expanding. That frustrates Wielgus.

“The science is the science,” he says. “People say, ‘I know that there’s more cougars than ever, because I just know.’ What we’re saying is, there aren't more now, you’ve just seen more, because you’ve killed all the big guys that kept out these young troublemakers.’

“Look, you have a belief. Fine. Test the belief. That’s what we’re doing now. We have study areas where they’re heavily hunted, and we have areas where they’re virtually not hunted at all. And the interesting thing is, the areas where we aren’t hunting cougars heavily, it’s virtually zero in human complaints.”

He understands the concern over encounters with cougars, but says we need to find a different response than killing more of the big cats.

“Our management actions are achieving the exact reverse of what is desired,” he says. “It’s the shift in the age structure that results in the increased complaints. It’s just disastrous. The heavy hunting that we’re doing in Washington State is causing increased human-cougar conflicts. The putative solution is causing the problem.”


Page 1 2 3

Washington State Magazine Home

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tracks