Stalked

Slow down! Steep downhill ahead!

7:15pm on a Friday night with a phone call that ended in, "Yeah! Lets go mark the course now!" Jesse met me in a Whole Foods parking lot where we grabbed sandwiches, coconut water, and coffee.  The plan to mark the race course in the morning was out the window with a last minute technicality we hadn't prepared for. At 8:04pm we were caravanning out to Tillamook Forest for some middle of the night adventuring. Both capable, and very willing, we didn't question what we were about to do as long as we had each other to rely on for course knowledge and the safety of a buddy.

9:30pm and we were headed out loaded with cones, tape, and a couple signs to stake into the ground warning of more dangerous downhill sections to come. Fast forward with one burly climb mostly behind us, and catching up with each other on what adventures we've been up to since the last time we saw each other, and it was roughly 10:30pm. We jaunted along and admired what a stellar fall night it was to be out here. Twisting and turning along the more runnable terrain when all of a sudden Jesse comes to an abrupt halt that I just barely skirted around avoiding a friendly crash collision. "HEYYYY!! HEYYYYYYYYY!" Jesse roared, and in the skip of a heart beat I was locking eyes with the cat just yards up the trail in front of us. Its eyes illuminated by the glare of our headlamps, and its ears perked in a sort of curiosity that expressed interest in what type of meat we may be. FUCK.

The logbook before the cat. So excited!

Jesse roared, "GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!" I looked around for anything to use that would inflict physical damage if we were charged. Thanks to the damp Pacific Northwest, the sticks I grabbed merely bent under any force I applied. Jesse turned around quickly, found the winning stick, and cracked it over his knee handing me the other half. Arms over head, and screaming like wild banshees, we took steps forward. The cat wandered off up into the hills. We both looked at each other in total bewilderment of what we just encountered. Having been all over this trail for our own training runs a plethora of times, this was a first. Keep moving, keep yelling, and blow that whistle like your survival depends on it. We walked. The more you run when a cat has keyed in on you, the more you look like a tasty morsel worth following. Our eyes scanned the trail in all directions looking for its presence. At 12:07am we were captains logging in the summit book of what we'd seen, and I had just enough service to get a call out to the race director letting him know our kitty cat was on the trail.

Shortly after coming down off the summit we were becoming more and more confident we were in the clear. The grip on my dagger stick loosened, and more light hearted conversations began. We were even comfortable enough to make jokes about a mountain lion encounter in the middle of a Friday night. Our legs began moving their normal running speed again as we kept laying confidence markers on the trail making sure no racer was getting lost on our dime. Jesse had a few chuckles at the fact I may be classified as an "over marker." We were talking about travel goals and other shenanigans when Jesse came to the familiar, abrupt halt again. As soon as my momentum came to its stop, my ears caught the sound of something on the ridge above our trail making the same stop under crunching bushes. The new realization was the cat had indeed been tracking us and was potentially about to make its move right here, in the middle of our future travel plans conversation.

Logbook after the cat. Less excited. 

Jesse was enraged. His guttural roar was back in full force. This time his commentary was something you wouldn't want your mother to here, and horror movie dialogue that would make you feel like you were toast. I was even intimidated. We hauled rocks as far as our arms could throw up into those trees. The whistle firmly planted against my lips, I knew I couldn't yell the way Jesse could, I blew so hard that my surroundings were silenced as my eardrums were paralyzed with internal ringing. I had stayed calm, cool, and collected until this very moment where I had no idea what that cat's intentions with us were. My heart beat elevated pounding through my bony chest, and my breath escaped me. Jesse looked back knowing I may lose it, and firmly stated, "Stay focused Jenn." He was absolutely right. I truly can't comprehend what the situation would look like had either one of us experienced this solo. We walked, and the grasp on my dagger was back to its white knuckled normal.


It was late, and already past the time we had anticipated being finished. My eyes fixed on every bit of trail around me. Where the hell was this thing, and how had it managed to follow us over the crazy path we were traveling without being noticed even once until now? Cats are amazing predators, and have a stealth that I wouldn't ever appreciate until these very moments. "This is fucked up." We were both vulnerable and pissed. The two of us were exhibiting aggressive tendencies I didn't think existed within our personal characters.  I took deep breaths and tried to keep calm under this intense fear of unknown and our own exposure out here. "HEYYYYYYYYYYYY! RAWWWWRRRRRRR! GOOOOOOO!" It was now posted up just in its position of choice just yards up from us on the trail. It's one thing to hear the thing in the woods, but as soon as it presents itself, your mind runs wild with worst case scenarios while in the same breath, your body reaction is somewhat stunned. Arms up over head and I began blowing the whistle so hard that I hoped my sounds would reach Jeff who was much further east fishing on the Metolius. Jesse had two pointed rocks in each hand and he was ready to kill the cat that had spent its night toying with our the state of our psychological health.

The friendly newt that helped calm nerves.

Once the cat had wandered back into the hills, this would be the final time we see it. The miles we agreed would be walked from here to finish, took hours. It was 4am by the time we were back to the safety Jesse's car that promised shelter from the now downpour, and the cat that was probably still on our terrified tails. We processed what we could before making the trek back to our  homes, where once I had fallen asleep, had returning nightmares of the cat. What a freaking  night run for two people who are typically unfazed by the the potential of risk involved. Being with Jesse out there in that situation taught me humbling, valuable lessons about knowing how to react and think clearly when you're in the face of immediate danger, and respecting territory that truly isn't yours. Know your nocturnal hunters! Always carry a whistle, always bring along a night time buddy, because if it's not cats it's weirdos, and never underestimate your mountain surroundings. Heaven forbid it's ever Squatch you encounter when out for an evening run through the woods! My resting heart rate has returned to me, and all is well. Happy trails!

(Disclaimer- No race participant was lost due to our exceptional course markings. Winning.)