The Marshal Pack is my name for the local pack of coyotes that frequent Marshal Mesa and my neighborhood. I wrote a post about them last year here. On late summer nights with the windows open Jo and I can usually hear them howl and bark as they hunt in the prairie dog town across the street. I even had a face to face encounter with an alpha male in my driveway last August while doing some late night bike maintenance.
Earlier this month after the first snow of the year, Jo and I were returning from a hike with the dogs on Marshal Mesa when I spotted this guy below. He was hunting in the ditch next to the road as we drove by. I shifted the truck into 2WD and used the snow covered road to skid into a 180 which would be much quicker (and funner) than a 3 point turn. I dropped it back into 4WD and pulled up on the opposite shoulder about 15 yards away. The coyote ignored us and finished his hunt. I fumbled with mounting the zoom lens and missed him make the kill. With a fresh mouse in his mouth he turned his head and looked at me. The zoom lens was mounted, but we had locked eyes so I held off raising the camera to my face. His lack of fear and willingness to engage me reminded me of the driveway encounter last summer, but I couldn't be sure it was the same coyote. After our staring contest he turned, slipped under the fence and headed up the hill. Jo and I watched as he sniffed out the right bush and buried his prize.
Earlier this month after the first snow of the year, Jo and I were returning from a hike with the dogs on Marshal Mesa when I spotted this guy below. He was hunting in the ditch next to the road as we drove by. I shifted the truck into 2WD and used the snow covered road to skid into a 180 which would be much quicker (and funner) than a 3 point turn. I dropped it back into 4WD and pulled up on the opposite shoulder about 15 yards away. The coyote ignored us and finished his hunt. I fumbled with mounting the zoom lens and missed him make the kill. With a fresh mouse in his mouth he turned his head and looked at me. The zoom lens was mounted, but we had locked eyes so I held off raising the camera to my face. His lack of fear and willingness to engage me reminded me of the driveway encounter last summer, but I couldn't be sure it was the same coyote. After our staring contest he turned, slipped under the fence and headed up the hill. Jo and I watched as he sniffed out the right bush and buried his prize.
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