I have come face-to-face with a mountain lion, and been unknowingly stalked by one.
FIRST STORY: I was alone on a bow hunting trip at my cabin on a bluff near La Crosse, Wisconsin. I don't get up there much so I let my relatives farm on the land (my family pretty much owns the whole bluff).
This particular day, I was walking to my tree stand through a narrow path in the hills. On either side of me, there was corn about 6' feet high. I was about a half a mile into the field when it happened.
It was very sudden. A cougar hopped into the path from the corn on my right, about 20 yards in front of me.
I had just been minding my own business and so had he. I froze and the lion arched its back as we locked eyes with each other. I was pretty sure I was about to die.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, it jumped back into the corn. I was momentarily relieved until I realized I was alone in the middle of a giant corn field and had just lost sight of a large predatory cat.
I booked it back to the house. I didn't even realize what had happened until I was safe inside and the adrenaline subsided. Obviously I wasn't eaten alive but it was easily one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, especially since mountain lions aren't supposed to live in the area. It really threw me for a loop.
SECOND STORY:
Also on a bow hunting trip, this time a bit farther north near Hayward, Wisconsin. There were more people with me this time-- my dad & a bunch of his buddies.
I was about 16 at the time and had just shot my first deer. The guys took me out for dinner to celebrate before we went tracking the deer. It was dark by the time we starting tracking it.
For those who have never tracked deer, you generally look for blood on leaves/twigs in the location you shot it, then follow a trail of blood. 95% of the time this takes you all the way to the deer carcass.
That night, we followed the blood trail into the woods for about an hour when it suddenly stopped. We searched and searched for the next spot of blood but there was none. Most of the guys were ready to give up, figuring I didn't get a decent shot and the wound simply stopped bleeding.
But one of the guys knew how important my first deer was-- he didn't want to give up the search. He & I continued going deeper into the woods to look for blood.
We didn't see the whole body at first. Just a leg sticking out of the ground. We gave the hoof a good tug and sure enough, there was my deer. Still warm, and buried under several inches of dirt and leaves. As my companion described it, "the whole ass end" was chewed out. We cut the backstrap out and left the rest so we could get the fuck out of there.
We figured it was a bear-- there are a lot of bears in the area. For years, we told the highly embellished story of how we were stalked by a bear. Eventually I kinda forgot about the whole thing.
Recently I got a call from the guy I was with. We don't talk much outside of hunting so I was surprised to get a call. He had an excitement in his voice as he told me he just recounted the story to the DNR.
"They told me, 'that wasn't a bear. Bears don't bury their prey. And you're lucky to be alive.'"
I asked him why they would say that,
"Because you were messing with a mountain lion's meal, and I can guarantee it was watching you."
Still gives me shivers.