Outfoxing a Fox

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Guest Post by Riley Carson

I used to go running on a sheep trail along the river that ran in the valley behind the college I was attending. It was open countryside with no people or houses around, which is why I loved it.

One day I noticed a fox up ahead. She noticed me about the same time I noticed her. (Just guessing on the gender.) 

I just kept running, as did she. Every so often she would stop and look back to see if I was still following. The fox came to a spot where the trail forked, with the lower part following along the river bank. The other fork went up a low hill then ran parallel to the lower one, but allowing a view of the lower trail from the upper. She took the lower trail, and I saw an opportunity ahead.

When I got to the fork, I took the higher trail, and kept going, very quietly. Soon I peaked over to see where the fox was. She was standing poised, looking back with her ears perked up. She waited a minute or so until she was convinced I was no longer following, then continued at a quick walk. 

I followed parallel to her from above. After a quarter mile or so I saw her duck into a hole in a dirt bank. That was her den! I never saw her again, though I went running there several times per week. It was one of the most delightful occasions of my life. 

In a second story, I will share a personal experience I had one snowy day up in Mount Rainier National Park with a clever bobcat.

On the Trail of a Bobcat

I used to live just a 45 minute drive from Mt. Rainier National Park in the state of Washington. One Spring in the late Seventies I drove up there to Lake Mowich, where I parked my car, then hiked on up into the Lake Eunice area, my favorite spot in the park. 

Photo of Lake Eunice area

Snow had been falling, but stopped shortly before I got to Lake Eunice. I happened upon a set of paw prints in the snow, which I later determined were those of a Bobcat:

Since the tracks were fresh, I thought it would be interesting to follow them to see if I could catch a glimpse of the animal. Following the trail was easy in the new snow, and after ten minutes or so I saw they led towards a large rocky outcropping in an open area. It was about thirty feet tall, and large enough that it would take several minutes or so to walk around it. 

I continued, and as I approached the rock I could see the prints went around to the back. Quietly I crept forward, expecting to spot the unsuspecting cat at any moment. 

It took me about three minutes to circle around the whole rock, at which time I saw my own footprints ahead, and realized I was back where I started. But where did the Bobcat go? A second glance gave me the answer.

A new set of Bobcat tracks led away from the rock, going back exactly the same way they had come in, leaving new outgoing tracks next to my footprints and his incoming tracks! That clever Bobcat had doubled back while I was busy tracking him on the other side of the rock.

“Good trick you clever boy”, I said as I laughed at myself. I figured he knew exactly what he was doing, and that maybe even his excursion out to the rock in the field was just a diversion to lead me astray. But I will never know.