Originally posted November 25, 2006. Updated November 21, 2011.

Update November 21, 2011. On October 4, 2011 the National Park Service announced that male mountain lion P-15 has been killed. It was  the first documented intentional human-caused death of a mountain lion in the Santa Monica Mountains. P-15's collar stopped transmitting on August 25, 2011. P-15 was was discovered on September 11, 2011, following a report of a dead mountain lion. The California Department of Fish and Game and National Park Service are seeking information related to the death of P-15 and the parties responsible. With the addition of $5000 from the City of Malibu the reward being offered for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the poachers currently stands at $16,700. The DFG Cal Tip Hotline is 1-888-334-2258.

--

Nature isn't necessarily nice. Behavior and interactions among animals are often violent. So it is with mountain lions. But the mountain lions of the Santa Monica Mountains also have to cope with the additional problems of living on an island of lion habitat in the middle of an ocean of urban sprawl.

The mountain lion tracks above were photographed on a run at Sage Ranch Park in late January 2000 . They might have been made by a young male mountain lion designated P3, whose territory encompassed this area. There is also a possibility there were from an older female lion, P4 that frequented the Rocky Peak area. Unfortunately both these animals were killed in late 2004 by eating prey (coyote) that had eaten rodents that had consumed anticoagulant based poisons. These poisons are used by parks, schools, golf courses and housing developments for rodent control.

The P3 and P4 pumas were tracked as part of a ongoing study started by the National Park Service in 2002 to learn more about mountain lions in the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. As of September 2011, twenty one mountain lions, P1 to P21, have been tracked, and their history has been quite a saga.

This intricate feather was caught on a bristly stalk along the Secret Trail (Calabasas - Cold Creek Trail). The slightest breath of wind would jostle its branches and branchlets. I found I was holding my breath, waiting for the still moments when I could take a photograph. The feather is smaller than the photograph suggests, perhaps 1.50"-1.75" in length.

There are several types of bird feathers, the most familiar of which is probably the contour feather. The Feather on the Modelo Trail is a contour feather. In a sense contour feathers form the outer shell of a bird, defining its form and coloration. Wing and tail feathers are contour feathers. The fluffy feather with a familiar name -- the down feather -- provides insulation.

The feather found along the Secret Trail is a semiplume feather. A semiplume feather looks like it is a blend of a contour feather and a down feather, and has some of the characteristics of both. Like a contour feather it has a supportive shaft, but like a down feather it has filamentary branches (barbs) and branchlets (barbules). This combination helps to fill out the bird's shape, and also provides additional insulation.

The barbules of contour feathers have hooks (barbicels) which join adjacent barbs to form the blade-like vanes of the feather. The barbules of semiplume and down feathers do not have hooks. This allows the barbs of the feather to spread in three dimensions and more easily fill a space. Here's a closer view of the barbs and barbules of the Secret Trail feather.

To see how the Secret Trail feather compares to other semiplume feathers, I asked long-time climbing, kayaking, and running partner Gary Gunder -- now living the good life on the North Shore -- if he could take some photos of feathers from some of the birds at Tin Roof Ranch. Courtesy of Gary, here are photos of semiplume feathers from a chicken, turkey, and goose.

For more about feathers and birds see Feather Structure on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology All About Birds web site.

P.S. I asked Gary how his running is going, and he replied, "I run every day... across the Kamehameha highway to go surfing!"

I was deep in thought, but have no idea what those thoughts might have been. It was at that point in a run when miles, and thoughts, flow freely. The afternoon was warm and calm and the settling sun cast a golden hue on the blond, oak-studded hills. My footfalls ticked out a steady rhythm on the dirt road, and my mind was at ease.

My reverie was suddenly broken by the realization that a coyote was running with me. Not running yards in the distance, or in the brush off to the side, but five or six feet in front of me, as if restrained by an invisible lead!

It must have come from the tall grass along the margin of the road, but from my daydream-warped perspective had just suddenly appeared. I'm surprised I didn't stumble or start. But there was no hint of aggression or malice -- just a mischievous glance backward to see how I was going to react.

I didn't. I've had numerous encounters with coyotes, but this went so far beyond my other experiences, I didn't know how to react.

For more than 50 yards the coyote ran with me, keeping pace in lead along the deserted dirt road.

At some point I started to try and retrieve my camera from the small pack on my waist. The out of synch movement disturbed the delicate balance of this improbable scene, and I could see the change in the animal's demeanor.

Before disappearing into the cover, the coyote looked back a final time, and in so many words seemed to be saying "gotcha, you're it!"

(From a run Tuesday at Ahmanson Ranch, now Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve.)

Related post: Trickster

A feather -- probably from a barn owl -- on the Modelo Trail between Cheeseboro and Palo Comado Canyons.

A little further along the trail I was surprised to see the diminutive "Felix the Cat" like face of a long-tailed weasel briefly pop up from a burrow.

From today's run of the Modelo - Palo Comado Canyon - Cheeseboro Canyon loop. This Park Service PDF includes a map of the area, and this interactive Google Earth browser view shows a GPS trace of the run.

These canyon sunflowers were along the trail in a pretty oak woodland area of upper Las Virgenes Canyon.

I had been kneeling when I took the photo, and as I stood up, turned off the camera and started to take a couple of strides up the trail, was startled to see the large white face of a barn owl headed toward me. The bird wheeled and turned in a patch of sunlight, showing its broad wings and exquisite apricot-orange coloration. Silently, it flew to a nearby tree.

I was a little surprised it had not flown farther away and looked to see if I could get a photo. Nope -- the owl had had enough, and flew to a more distant tree. At that instant a small squirrel came scrambling down the oak branch from where I had first seen the owl fly.

I apologized to the owl, told the squirrel he owed me one, and continued up the trail.

Related post: Hawk, Bobcat, and Rabbit

What the... Until I saw the water bottle and that the person was talking on a cell phone, I wasn't sure what I was seeing.

Then there was the rattlesnake -- well actually, the two rattlesnakes! Here's an HD video snapshot of one of them. This is an average size Southern Pacific rattlesnake. Because of our cool Spring weather they've been slow to appear, but are now out and about.

Some related posts: Big Southern Pacific Rattlesnake at Ahmanson Ranch, It was So Muddy That..., Overcoming Obstacles on the Trail

An alligator lizard (Elgaria multicarinata) sunning itself on a grassland or chaparral trail isn't about to move unless it positively, absolutely, for sure, without question has to.

I've encountered (and jumped over) a number of alligator lizards while running Southern California trails, and don't recall one ever being in a hurry to move. It's a case of fight or flight -- or just sit there. Putting the camera a few inches from its nose resulted in only an almost imperceptible tilt of the head. I can never decide if they're playing possum, or maybe trying to decide if I'm too big to eat. And they will bite.

Because of their small limbs and long body, at first glance they are sometimes mistaken for a snake. When they finally do decide to move, they do so  using a rapid lateral undulation of their body, with little apparent involvement of their limbs. Some research has concluded that this form of locomotion is more energetically efficient (Gans, 1975), while other research (Walton et al.,1990) suggests that limbed and limbless locomotion may have similar energetic costs.

The alligator lizard appears to be part way through a transition from a fully limbed lizard to a more snake-like body with reduced limbs. This change in form has occurred in a number of species, and in a paper published in 2006 (Wiens, Brandly & Reeder) the question was posed why this trait repeatedly evolves in lizards and snakes. They postulate that in addition to more traditional explanations, that biogeographic isolation and competition may play important roles.

For more info about the alligator lizard, see this San Diego Zoo fact sheet.

I almost always see mule deer when doing a trail run that passes through Trippet Ranch, especially in the morning. They tend to hang out near the parking lot, the pond, the oaks along Eagle Springs fire road, and along the Musch and Dead Horse trails.

Sunday several doe were grazing about five feet from the parking lot, and barely took notice as I (slowly) ran past. I also saw a buck near the start of the Musch Trail, but he was much more skittish, and strutted into the brush as I ran up the hill from the pond.

Related post: Musch Trail Mule Deer

From Tuesday's run in the Simi Hills.

One of the largest Southern Pacific Rattlesnakes I've seen at Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve -- formerly Ahmanson Ranch. This one was on the East Las Virgenes Canyon Trail (aka Main Drag).

I counted 12 rattle segments, and as this HD video snapshot shows, the snake was nearly as long as the dirt road was wide.

From a run on Wednesday from the Victory trailhead to Las Virgenes Creek.

Even though it was Summer, it was cold. Except for the clinking of our climbing gear, it was still and quiet at 13,000 ft. The sun had not yet risen, and I was perched on an icy step just below the bergschrund of Palisade Glacier. Tom had just crossed the large crevasse, and the brightly colored red rope ran through my hands as he worked up the ice of U-Notch couloir.

Even if the calendar is a little slow, Spring is here. The oaks are leafing out, goldfields blooming, chorus frogs  singing, and I just had my first rattlesnake encounter of the year.

The single track trail paralleled the dirt road in upper Las Virgenes Canyon. I weaved and wound my way through the grassland and oaks, eventually returning to the road near the connector to Cheeseboro Canyon.

Usually, the sound of my footfalls would be enough to abruptly silence the sing-song of the frogs at the creek crossing. As I approached the creek, the calls slowed but did not stop. I paused at a small pool and stood quietly.

Over a period of seconds, the chorus of the frogs grew to a surprising intensity, interleaving and reverberating in such a way as to envelop me in sound. In the small pond at my feet, I could not see the frogs, but I could see the waves and ripples of their calls on the water's surface. Immersed in sound, I stood still for a few moments, and then crossed the creek, and continued down the canyon.

I'd been thinking about it earlier in the run. Highs had been in the 80's since Monday. Was three days enough to get the rattlesnakes out and about?

I reacted to the rattle before I heard it, leaping away from the sound. The snake was in the grass at the margin of the trail, about halfway up "the Beast," west of Lasky Mesa. It was nearly invisible in the tall grass, and only an inch or two off the overgrown path. Fortunately, it's reaction had been similar to mine, a defensive recoil, rather than a strike.

The adrenalin of the encounter quickened my pace up the hill. At the top of a hill, a falcon flew from a sentinel oak. I followed its flight until it disappeared in the glare of the setting sun, and sighed...