Road Kill

I work in the Los Padres National Forest as what is called a 'Zone Area Engineer'. Frequently I'm out in territories where few people go on dirt roads on mountain sides and in oak forests.
Out on a road called Cameusa, I was checking back country areas for a grading contract.
In the far reaches far from anyone an unusual set of markings caught my eye. Ahead on the dusty lane were marks that stretched for about thirty yards. I stopped the truck and got out.
Then the drama really unfolded in front of me.
The odd markings to what appeared to be beginning. There were two sets of tracks: deer and mountain lion. The leading sets of tracks were far apart. Both animals were running. One for its life. The other in predatory hunger. The lion prints stopped leaving four tracks very close to each other and the sprays of dust behind. This was were the leap began.
The soft ground showed deep gouges where hooves and paws clawed the earth. Spatters of dust indicated where the struggle ensued. In a lethal embrace, the flattened marks where two bodies lay together. Both the signs showed the lion and the deer were of adult size.
Large clots of blood, still tinged with red, pooled in minor depressions on the road. Evidence that the lion held the deer for some time. Waiting for the inevitable reward of death. I nudged one of the clots with my boot. The dark mass was still pliable. I crouched down for better observation.
It looked like Hawaiian lava; dark and crusty on the outside, red and viscous inside.
As the outside temperature hovered about 95 degrees, touching the masses wouldn't have given me any accurate time frame. But the interior liquid said this happened perhaps an hour ago or even earlier.
I stood and looked at the trail. Two long marks, one obviously the body, and a smaller one with two tracks meant the legs were trailing alongside. There were no marks from the lion. My guess was the prey had been too large to carry. or easily walk and drag. The cougar moved ahead of its victim, performing a tug of war with the corpse.
The warm forest air transferred the sounds of crickets and birds. The world spun, life went on and virtually ignored my presence. Only a minor life form on the living planet.
I looked around knowing I wasn't alone. The closest human probably walked or drove about 15 or twenty miles away. Although I couldn't see anything save the occasional scrub jay, butterfly or finch, the tracks on the ground and periodic sounds of movement in the brush informed me I was surrounded by life.
Following the markings proved to be easy. I walked along the signs, for some reason not wanting to disturb the evidence. The ground crunched under my work boots and gave the impression that an elephant danced through a potato chip factory. The more I attempted to walk silently, the more I felt the canyons echoed my presence. Could I have announced myself any more? The drag signs took a turn off the road and bent, dried harvest gold grasses pointed the way. Small sage brushes had broken branches. I followed the tracks and stopped before a grove of blue oak trees. The sounds of the area ceased. A few crickets and cicadas chirped, but the birds and brush sounds halted.
I smiled and half chuckled. Did I really want to go into a thicket of trees, find a mountain lion and disturb it feeding on a kill? I wanted to, but common sense told me disturbing an alpha predator covered in blood may trigger a quick response in protecting its breakfast.
Making deliberate movements, I retraced my path. Slow, slow, slow. Just in case someone watched. Fast actions would trigger a chase instinct.
The drama of life and death had been laid out in the road like a chapter in a huge book of nature. The words came in marks, most less than an inch high. The sentences and paragraphs read like the best crime novel. Only the last chapter, played out in the grove of trees, remain unknown. Even in my perpetual curiosity knew not to turn that page.
Back in the truck I started the engine, the air conditioning blew chilly across my face. The entire experience charged me with the endorphins that make one state, "wow," over and over again.
I'll remember this road kill for some time.