September 2025
I found myself helping a friend on the early archery Bull Elk hunt in 5BN Flagstaff, Arizona. The hunt was proving difficult due to poor rut activity and one of the most severe droughts I’ve ever seen in the area. Despite this, I had found a good pocket of Elk one evening and had returned with my father and friend early in the dark of the following morning. The few bugles that pierced the dark simmered to a silence after first light; however, we found the herd bedded. Cows were spread out like mines in a minefield with no herd bull showing himself yet, so we sat down to await their next move. I decided it best to split and head to a rocky rim where I found several big bulls the previous evening. I reached the rocky rim and sat back, basking in the sun like a tired hound dog. It was early in the afternoon on the Elk’clock and I felt the "sleepies" hitting me so I laid down for a quick nap but I wasn’t able. No matter how hard I tried I could not sleep. An eerie feeling kept creeping up my spine and telling me something bad was about to happen each time I tried to close my eyes. Another voice told me to hike up higher and sit down, so I listened. I sat down and became bothered by the same feeling. Then, a glimpse of tan drifted through the gaps in a juniper. An Elk! Well, no. . .no Elk appeared. Several minutes passed. Again, the dark feeling . . . what is going on? I look around, nothing. Then I happen to look farther right only to meet the eyes of a Mountain Lion mid-stalk through the only clearing. The lion sees I have nailed him, he tucks his hind legs under him and sits up. I am aware I had forgotten my sidearm in the truck that morning, so I reach down for my camera. As I reach down he creeps in closer. I am in awe of this moment, capturing a lion at close distance was on my photography bucket list. I then reach for my phone to call my father and the lion closes the gap to 25 yards. I quickly realize this cat is not merely curious, like others I’ve come across in the past. I shout at him and he does not break stare or indicate hesitancy in the least bit, this worries me. I then became fully aware of my vulnerability and the potential volatility of this situation as the sun sank below the horizon. At this distance this cat is one simple pounce away; will he decide to hit the switch? If he does what can I do? Not much. I am afraid if I move he will take opportunity, I am locked in a staring contest with hopes my father and friend arrive before dark. Finally I can hear footfalls, as does the cat as I watch his ears rotate in the direction of the fence line. The cat looks in their direction, displaying full of annoyance on his face then returns his gaze upon me. My father crosses the fence 30 yards away and the lion looks again, he hesitates then decides to leave, slowly slinking over the rocks down the rocky rim. My father and his friend never saw him crouched there. I was glad to have had my camera to prove my sanity and the veracity of my story!
Lessons were learned; I will never forget my sidearm and I will continue to trust my gut.
Stay safe in all your adventures y’all,
Eric Forrest
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