The count begins with a trek up the face of Leyland Mountain. Researchers, with cavers in tow, strap on snowshoes and climb toward the mouth of the cave, the only known entrance.
This year’s journey in early April began with a late spring snowstorm that left the steep mountain plateau thick with fresh powder.
The mouth is a crescent of black cutting through the jagged face of a crag on the mountain.
A line was set and a single rope snaked into the cave along a makeshift staircase. Footholds were kicked into the snow of the cave wall, allowing team members to slip carefully inside.
A subtle but pungent skunky smell wafted up from the shaft, the telltale scent of bat guano.
This year’s count was conducted by Wilkinson and Dave Hobson, a retired wildlife biologist and longtime bat researcher, with the help of two experienced cavers — Danielle Vallich and Ross Rideout.
Hobson, clad in a bright red caving suit adorned with a custom bat patch, provided a safety briefing before the crew went underground.
“The important thing to do is when you’re looking for bats, stop walking,” he said.
“And if you’re walking, stop looking for bats so you don’t slip and slide.”
