When I was five, the St. Clouds lost their park warden and they went headhunting. They found my dad, who was a ranger in Oregon. My mom’s Canadian, though, from the Haida Nation. For her, the job meant coming home. For Dad, it meant the opportunity of a lifetime. For me, it meant growing up in the most amazing place on earth.

Living out here does have its challenges, though. Including transportation. Dad used to drive me to school every day, but now Daniel picks me up at the park gates in his truck—he doesn’t dare drive the rutted park roads any more than necessary or the rust holding his pickup together is liable to shake loose.

Technically, the park is open to the public, but that’s only because it was a condition of sale. Let’s just say that the St. Cloud Corporation doesn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat to tourists. The park provides minimal services. Same goes for the town itself. The St. Clouds weren’t able to buy every cottage and campground between the town site and existing communities, so we do get “summer people”—campers and cottagers needing basic supplies like groceries and gas, who come to Salmon Creek to get them.

At this time of year, though, it’s a rare park visitor who isn’t a local. So when I heard a woman screaming, my first thought was that a female cougar had ventured into the park, hoping to get lucky.

Kenjii’s ears swiveled forward. She didn’t look terribly concerned, which for any other dog would suggest it wasn’t a cougar. My parents bought me a big dog to protect me from the local big cats, but Kenjii had to be the only canine on the island that didn’t really mind them. Bears, wolves, badgers, and foxes send her into guard dog mode. But not cats.

So, when I spotted a cougar stretched out on a thick pine tree branch near the park gates, I wasn’t surprised. I can’t say the same for the woman clinging to the branch above the cat. She was the one screaming. The cougar—a ragged-ear old tom I called Marv—just stared at her, like he couldn’t believe anyone would be dumb enough to climb a tree to escape a cat.

There’s nothing in this forest as gorgeous as a cougar—a sleek, muscular creature nearly twice the size of Kenjii with tawny fur, a black-edged face, and light brown eyes with round pupils. They’re one of the most elusive animals in the forest, too. But the woman screaming on the branch really wasn’t appreciating the moment.