The Snow Leopards
User Story
By Clif Chapman
Life is a very heavy wagon. Humor is the grease for its wheels” Clif Chapman 2003.
It was off-white, thick, plush, and inviting. We stood staring at the luxurious carpet realizing we had never seen anything so elegant and knowing we would never own one. Little rivulets of water sneaked down our police boots, the melting snow forming tiny beads that would soon soak into the carpeting outside the complainant’s suite.
We scanned the suite through the open door. It was bathed in soft, warm lighting that accentuated the sumptuous décor. We stood a little slack-jawed as we took in the bachelor pad of the decade.
Our host was very gracious. He immediately invited us in to discuss his reason for calling the police to his door. We couldn’t bring ourselves to walk on that carpet with our melting and inelegant size twelves. We offered to remove our boots but he would have none of it and stepped back with a big wave, beckoning us to come in.
He explained that he lived a very quiet life and savored his time lounging in the suite with his feet up and a good book in hand. Tonight however, was not one of those nights. He waved us into his reading room. The problem immediately became apparent. Far below his balcony, racing across Victoria Golf Course in Edmonton’s river valley, was a duo of the loudest snowmobiles I had ever heard.
Ever the gentleman, our man apologized for calling the police for such a mundane complaint. He was at his wits’ end and implored us to do whatever we could to stop these two maniacs from violating his solitude. It was easy to see his point.
My partner and I exchanged quick glances. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. How were we supposed to catch two snowmobiles on foot while trudging through two feet of snow on 50 acres of golf course? We gave him the old “We’ll handle it!” nod.
In the police car, we tried to come up with some sort of plan. It had snowed pretty regularly that winter and we estimated the whole golf course was level, with nearly two feet of crusting snow. If you ran 20 yards in that stuff, you would be fagged right out. It was hopeless. It was a high speed chase that we wouldn't win. Only a pair of snow leopards could catch those two guys.
Snow leopards! What did those big cats do when they hunted an animal down? One would lie low, the other would get into the right position, show himself and send the startled animal running right into the ambush. Now we were fired up! We even synchronized watches. This was 1969; we had no portable radios or cellular phones so we were going to be out of touch for nearly 30 minutes. One last look at our watches and we were off.
My partner drove east to set up on River Road by the High Level Bridge and I began my long trek across the golf course to where I thought these guys would “go to ground”. The snow was much deeper than I had anticipated. The going was tough. And slow. I glanced nervously at my watch, worried that I would not make it to my hideout in time. Our two idiots were still racing flat-out back and forth. Every once in a while I had to freeze, crouch down and stay in my track as they zoomed by. I couldn’t believe they didn’t see me or that they never wondered why those monster holes suddenly appeared in their unspoiled track. We were definitely not dealing with a pair of Mensa members.
At last I was into the grove of trees that I had chosen. These guys had better go for this spot. I stood there in the blackness catching my breath and wondering if our complainant was watching, wondering what that stupid cop was doing in the trees while Joe Swift and his friend continued making enemies of all the apartment owners. Again, I squinted at my watch… nearly time. About two kilometers east of me, my partner was about to make his run.
Right on cue, he came flying west on River Road, high beams and overheads piercing the night. The Mensa twins were in the middle of one of their runs. Perfect! They were even with my grove of trees when they spotted the big bad bear flying along with those red lights on. They cut a sharp left and dove into the tree line not 30 meters west of me, quickly shut down their machines and killed the lights. The snow leopards had pulled it off!
My partner swung into the parking area about 400 meters west of us, his high beams perfectly outlining our prey. The two geniuses were crouched down in the trees, transfixed by the lights and talking gleefully to one another. I tiptoed through the crunchy snow, moving only when they talked. To my delight, I was able to get within arms length of the nearest one. They were mouthing off the police in general and my partner in particular. I waited… enjoying the moment. My guy said, “Look at that stupid guy – who the hell does he think he’ll catch that way?” I reached forward and tapped him rather soundly on his back. I think he jumped two feet in the air. I said, “That stupid guy is my partner and I think he plans on catching two other stupid guys. And, you know what? He just did! Now which one of you gentlemen is going to give me a ride up to my partner so we can tune you up with some summonses?” I have never seen two men look so sheepish. There was a long pause and a lot of foot shuffling before one of them 'volunteered' to have me ride with him.
Fifty meters from the parking lot I made out my partner, anxiously looking out into the darkness. He broke into a grin brighter than the overheads when he saw our little caravan. I stood up on the back of our machine and gave him a big thumbs up. After issuing our boys matching summonses, we returned to la-la land and gave our complainant the good news. He was pleased – it was feet-up-and-good-book time again.
Years later, I was touring a zoological garden in South Africa. There was quite a stir when someone pointed out one of the big cats silently slipping through the grass. It was a snow leopard. “Have you ever seen one of those before, Uncle?” my niece asked. Well, yes and no.
