Wildness at the Edge of Town: Two Encounters with Mountain Lion Sign in Durango

Young Lion Powerline Trail

Living on the edge of town where high mesas meet the Animas River Valley, I was given ample opportunity for encounters with wildness. One cloud-covered morning, fog rolling in from the north, I walked a familiar trail beneath a power line where piñon-juniper woodland blends into montane scrub climbing toward a hillside crest at 7,500 feet, eventually giving way to ponderosa and gambel oak.

Rain fell softly.

To my surprise, feline tracks pressed cleanly into the mud. A woman walking her dog approached with headphones in, giving me a curious glance as I crouched on hands and knees inspecting lion prints. The right front measured eight by seven and a half centimeters: blocky toes pressed softly into the earth, a heavy palm pad stamped into wet clay.

Later I would tell friends the nerdier details of sexing lions through foot morphology—how females often leave more teardrop-shaped toes with greater spacing between the toe beans and palm pad, while males tend toward blockier tracks with rounder toes and tighter overall structure.

I paused there for a while, watching late-summer rain drift through the hills, saturating the signature of a young male lion roaming the margins of town.

Two days later, I came across an article in The Durango Herald describing a juvenile mountain lion spotted that same morning by a custodian standing on the steps of the local high school, accompanied by a grainy photograph.

Tracking allowed me to briefly participate in the unfolding journey of this wild cat moving between wild country and human settlement.

A crisp, well-defined female mountain lion print stamped into a dirt trail, backlit by low sun that throws the toe pads and heavy palm pad into sharp relief against the surrounding soil.

The Mesa Above Fort Lewis College

Fort Lewis College sits atop a broad mesa overlooking the town of Durango. An extensive trail system wraps around the campus, offering expansive views of the Animas River snaking through the valley below. Every day these trails fill with people walking dogs, biking, trail running, playing disc golf, and soaking in the landscape.

As someone who loves both wildlife tracking and running trails for exercise, those passions are sometimes at odds. When tracks are abundant, my runs become slow. I'm constantly stopping mid-stride to inspect the movements of the animals sharing this mesa.

One morning I was elated to come across a fresh mountain lion trail. The toes formed a graceful arch, teardrop-shaped with ample negative space between the toes and palm pad. The prints were so clean, so crisp, I found myself wondering whether this female lion was still nearby, hunkered beneath oak scrub just off trail.

Whether she remained there or not, the sharp definition of the tracks told me she had likely passed only a couple hours before sunrise. Mountain bikers whizzed by. Runners wearing headphones huffed past me without a glance.

I stood there amazed, knowing these people were entirely oblivious to the fact that a sizable lion had moved silently along these dusty trails only hours earlier. Modern recreation layered directly over hidden predator movement.

We live among wildness at every turn.

Osi Ledbetter

A softer, more weathered male mountain lion print on a rock-lined mesa trail, framed by tall grass on either side, illustrating the harder-to-spot sign found on well-traveled recreation trails.

mountain lion tracks Durango