For Pete Gavin, an encounter with a mountain lion is a breathless moment with a magnificent animal.
All my life I have wanted to see a mountain lion in the wild. Last night my wish was granted.
I was driving home after work. It was around 6:00 PM, December dark. Highway 12, just north of Kenwood. Up ahead, just off the pavement, beside the vineyards, I see a dark figure with a sloped back and a long tail. Immediately, I slow down, and my headlights reveal a big cat. Black lines around the eyes and whiskers, yellow-green eyes looking straight through me. Time freezes. I see this magnificent creature so clearly. A split-second now imprinted in my mind.
I pull over, afraid for this beautiful beast as cars whiz by in both directions. I dial 911. I need to do whatever I can to prevent a tragedy. I am put on hold; half a minute later, a dispatcher picks up. “911, what’s your emergency?” she says.
“There’s a mountain lion trying to cross Highway 12,” I sputter. “I am fearful he will be hit by a car.” I give her my exact location. She asks my name and tells me an officer will check it out. I thank her, my heart beating fast. I look in the mirror, roll down the windows, turn my head. The lion is gone. Did it cross? Did it return to the vineyard?