Beyond the Trophy:

The Surprising Truth About Colorado’s Big Cats

Imagine a mountain lion moving through the Colorado backcountry—a silent, amber-eyed shadow drifting over fresh powder. This is the wild at its most pristine. But that silence is increasingly shattered by the frantic baying of GPS-collared hound packs and the mechanical beep of tracking receivers. For many of Colorado’s big cats, the "hunt" has become a high-tech pursuit that ends not in a forest, but in a transaction.

Across the state, 1.4 million Coloradans are now voicing a profound discomfort with this reality. They are questioning why a majestic apex predator is treated less like a vital part of our ecosystem and more like a commercial commodity. To understand why this movement is gaining such momentum, we must look past the tradition and into the unsettling mechanics of the modern trophy hunt.

Takeaway 1: The Myth of the "Fair Chase"

In the world of ethical hunting, the "fair chase" is a sacred principle. It implies a level playing field where the animal has a reasonable chance of escape. In Colorado’s big cat hunts, that principle has been replaced by a rigged system. Today, wealthy trophy hunters hire commercial guides who use packs of hounds to track and "tree" a lion or bobcat. The animal is chased to exhaustion, forced onto a limb, and held there until the shooter arrives to finish the job.

This isn't wildlife management; it’s a business model. The commercialized fur trapping of bobcats and the "guaranteed" nature of these lion hunts violate the North American Model of Wildlife Management in every way. When a life has a price tag and the outcome is predetermined, the "hunt" dies and a "transaction" begins.

"Wealthy trophy hunters hire commercial guides with packs of dogs trained to attack and tree a lion or bobcat and shoot the animal off a tree limb. It’s a ‘guaranteed kill’ with the trophy hunter only paying the $8,000 fee after the kill."

Takeaway 2: Nature’s Defense Against Chronic Wasting Disease

Mountain lions are the primary architects of a healthy ecosystem. They don't just kill; they curate. By targeting the weak and the infirm, they maintain the health of deer and elk populations. This biological service is currently our best defense against Chronic Wasting Disease (CWD), a fatal brain-wasting disorder that threatens the very future of hunting in Colorado.

The irony here is sharp and self-defeating. Trophy hunters are killing the very predators that protect their own sport. By removing the cats that cull diseased animals, trophy hunting dismantles the natural mechanism that ensures the long-term survival of deer and elk herds. It is a short-sighted trade: a trophy on a wall today in exchange for a diseased, decimated herd tomorrow.

Takeaway 3: The Counter-Intuitive Rise in Human-Lion Conflict

Proponents of the hunt often argue that it is necessary for public safety. Peer-reviewed science tells a different story: trophy hunting actually increases human-wildlife conflict. When hunters kill older, dominant lions, they trigger "social chaos." This vacuum is filled by younger, juvenile lions who lack established territories and the hunting experience of their elders.

These inexperienced juveniles are far more likely to target "easy" prey like livestock or pets. A managed hunt is actually manufacturing the very danger it claims to prevent. The data from our neighbors is undeniable:

• California Comparison: California banned mountain lion hunting 50 years ago.

• Human Population: California has six times as many people as Colorado.

• Conflict Rates: Despite having just as many cougars as Colorado, California sees fewer than 10 lions killed annually for conflict-related issues.

Takeaway 4: The Hidden Toll on the Next Generation

The most heartbreaking cost of this practice is hidden in the statistics. Nearly 50% of the mountain lions killed by trophy hunters in Colorado are females. The ripple effect of these kills is devastating. When a mother is shot, her kittens—dependent on her for every meal and every lesson in survival—are left behind in the cold.

"When mothers are killed, the kittens are doomed to starvation, dehydration, or exposure."

The industry claims that using guides and hounds allows for a "close-up" look at the animal, theoretically preventing the killing of females. Yet, the nearly 50% female kill rate proves this is a fallacy. The system appears to do absolutely nothing to discourage the orphaning of young. From an ethical standpoint, it is impossible to justify a "management" strategy that results in the slow, agonizing death of kittens for the sake of a head and a hide.

Conclusion: A Shift in Perspective

The movement to protect Colorado’s big cats is not an attack on all hunting. It is a focused, necessary effort to halt the cruel, commercialized practice of trophy hunting and fur trapping. Under this proposed shift, state authorities would retain every tool needed to manage individual cats that pose a genuine risk to people, livestock, or pets.

We are at a crossroads in how we define our relationship with the wild. We must ask ourselves: Is the "North American Model of Wildlife Management" meant to be a cloak for "pay-on-kill" commercialism, or is it a commitment to the health of the entire ecosystem? If we continue to treat our most iconic predators as commodities to be bought and sold, we aren't practicing conservation—we are simply liquidating our natural heritage.

Learn more and get involved at https://catsarenttrophies.org/