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Wolves in the Crossfire, Again

2009-06-06T00:53:06Z

On Monday, June 1st, the Billings Gazette published a piece I wrote on the problems of prematurely removing endangered species protections from Northern Rockies gray wolves. I shouldn't have been surprised at the number of comments (28 total) posted in response, but I was, I admit, taken aback at the hateful, even threatening, nature of many of them. Here are some of the choicest:

James June 1, 2009 7:46AM MT

Louisa, you have the mistaken impression we want a wolf recovery program, we will continue to shoot these varmints at every opportunity and we don't care what you think about it.

River Rat June 1, 2009 9:14AM MT

Tough. Let 'em die off if there aren't enough. We already have too many...

DamSkippy June 1, 2009 2:09PM MT

SSS, Shoot, Shovel, and Shutup. This is the farmers and ranchers plans for control if government fails to do it for them. Trust me, Montana is vast and game wardens are few and they do not patrol private property. A rancher seeing a wolf crossing his property will not hesitate for a second to administer an anesthetic in the form of a 30-06 pill. Just something for you foam at the mouth enviro's to chew on.

Dave Skinner June 1, 2009 3:07PM MT

...As for concrete actions, the best would be to implement shoot on sight. Trust me, the survivors would be healthy.

River Rat June 1, 2009 4:05PM MT

After reading these posts, I want to take a minute to thank Defenders of Wildlife for making me proud of America again! All the SS&Sers are coming out of the woodwork! It's the Boston Tea Party all over again! The Founding Fathers would be proud to know we're tellin' the gummint to put it "where the monkey put the peanut." God bless America!

So here we go again-these irrational, even pathological, eruptions about wolves are as far removed from a civil discourse as you can get. It would be easy to dismiss the rantings of a few vocal ruffians who advocate for nothing short of the elimination of wolves from the landscape altogether. But in this case, these angry people are organized, armed and hell-bent on expressing their misplaced anger with bullets.

Last year, some of them stalked wolves on the elk feedgrounds in Wyoming and gunned down, among others, the famous Druid wolf Limpy. And, in Idaho, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's annual wolf report, 100 wolves were killed illegally. Those are the ones the government knew about. But given the nature of the "shoot, shovel and shut up" culture, how many wolves were really killed? The number could be far greater, potentially explaining in part why, last year, the wolf population grew at the slowest rate in the history of Northern Rockies wolf recovery. (Another reason could be that disease wiped out a number of the pups.)

Adding fuel to the fire is a recently passed law allowing people to carry guns in national parks. This law was attached to the credit relief bill, by Senator Tom Coburn (R-OK). It could result in more poaching of wolves, grizzly bears and other wildlife in a huge landscape (Yellowstone, for example, is 2.1 million acres), and where law enforcement in the backcountry is sparse.

There is still enough deep-seated hatred of wolves (and the federal government and conservationists) among well-armed people to make this a truly dangerous situation. In a democracy, laws matter, and, in this case, they are necessary to protect wolves against excessive killing. That's why we are back in court challenging the delisting decision.

In the West, the "shoot, shovel and shut up" mentality is never far away. Veiled or direct threats of violence permeate the policy processes. Go to some of the state game commission meetings or hearings on the proposed hunts, and you can feel the daggers in some of the bullies' eyes. It can be downright intimidating. It is also the antithesis of a fair and democratic process. Wolf management continues to reflect the tyranny of a well-armed minority that reflect the values of yesteryear.

What we have in the West with wolves today is mounting frustration on all sides, exacerbated by the anonymity provided by the Internet, which is further inflaming the debate. Another contributing factor to this growing frustration over wolves is the complete failure of the government to provide for a constructive dialogue among diverse parties in the hopes of resolving conflicts. Instead, key government officials fan the flames with wisecracks in the press.

Government leadership is sorely needed to bring all parties to the table in some new creative ways to help us honestly discuss our differences, and explore new solutions based on areas of common interest. For this to work, curse words and disrespectful behavior need to be left at the door.

Until then, we will be in court, and wolves will be in the crossfire, again.

Montana, Idaho wolf plans fall short of recovery

2009-06-01T20:48:51Z

The following opinion was published today in the Billings Gazette.

It's not fire season yet, but there's enough smoke swirling around the wolf debate to obscure the real issues. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has claimed that the Northern Rockies population will be maintained at over 1,000 wolves after endangered-species protections were removed in Idaho and Montana in May. But there is no such requirement in the delisting rule standards, or in the laws of the states that will manage wolves after delisting. FWS' own wolf "recovery" standards provide for a Northern Rockies population of only 300 wolves, including 30 breeding pairs. FWS approved state laws in Montana and Idaho by assessing whether they would maintain only 100 to 150 wolves in each state. And FWS acknowledges that the states are free to implement aggressive wolf-killing programs after wolves are delisted.

Experts maintain that a recovery target of 300 wolves is simply too low to ensure the long-term health of the population. This target is based on a guess that the region could only support a few hundred wolves, combined with a calculus, made 15 years ago, of what would be a politically acceptable number of wolves. Given that elk populations in the region are at all-time highs and wolves have increased to over 1,500, that guesswork has proven false.

300 wolves is too few

And over the past several decades, scientific evidence has mounted that underscores the need for more wolves to ensure their viability. In a letter sent to FWS in 2007, nearly 250 leading scientists stated that "by any measure, a population of 30 breeding pairs (300 wolves) is insufficient to achieve an effective population size large enough to maintain essential genetic diversity."

Even FWS wolf recovery coordinator Ed Bangs conceded in a 2008 article in Science that the recovery goal of 300 wolves and 30 breeding pairs is too low.

In approving the recent delisting rule, FWS turned a blind eye to imminent wolf-killing plans by the states. Of particular concern is Idaho. Its fall 2009 wolf hunt is likely to resemble or exceed its 2008 approved plan, which allowed the killing of over 300 wolves. In addition, the "shoot, shovel and shut up" culture is alive and well in Idaho, where the state estimates over 100 wolves were killed illegally in 2008. Idaho's hostile approach to wolf management is symbolized by Gov. Butch Otter's 2007 announcement at a hunter rally: "I am prepared to bid for that first ticket to shoot a wolf myself."

With wolves being killed at a higher rate in Montana than any other state in the region, the state has a long way to go to make peace with wolves. Unfortunately, Montana is considering a proposal to kill as many as 165 wolves by hunting - more than a third of the current Montana wolf population.

Trigger mechanisms

Because of such fierce animosity toward wolves, combined with excessive wolf-killing plans by the states, legally binding standards that rely on the best available science are essential to long-term wolf recovery. Additionally, FWS should establish trigger mechanisms in the delisting rule that mandate prompt corrective action should wolf numbers fall below biologically sound levels.

These are some of the reasons why NRDC and other conservation groups are challenging FWS' delisting rule. It's time to commit to concrete actions to maintain a healthy wolf population on this world-class landscape. It's also time to redouble the challenging work with livestock operators to find new, creative solutions to the conflicts that can arise between livestock and wolves.

You can support NRDC's wolf effort from the Biogems Web site

Ghost Forests and the Fate of the Yellowstone Grizzlies

2009-05-30T00:06:14Z

"What's to let go? What's to hold?"

That's the refrain from a song about the plight of whitebark pine by singer/songwriter Beth McIntosh, who debuted it at an event co-sponsored by NRDC and the Jackson Hole Conservation Alliance last week.

The song was a requiem of sorts for whitebark pine, a heart-wrenching piece written specifically for the event. Beth has a magical presence and a voice that breaks your heart open. On stage, she appears to embody Mother Earth: wise, strong and wild.

For me, this was an emotional evening and Beth's song hit hard. I've been working on whitebark pine for a number of years now, and since 2002 I have witnessed its collapse up close and personal.

They are magnificent trees. Growing over 1,000 years old, they've witnessed Sheepeater Indians grinding pine seeds at their feet. Growing in high elevations and in the harshest conditions, they have endured everything that Mother Nature has thrown at them-lightning, storms, 100 miles per hour winds. But they may not be able to endure what we have thrown at them- non-native disease and global warming pollution. In the next 5 to 8 years, these magnificent forests may be ghosts of the past, and the Yellowstone grizzly, which depends on them, will also suffer.

I was glad that I spoke at the beginning of the program, because after I heard Beth's song, I would not have trusted my voice.

As I looked out at the audience of some 250 strong, I saw old friends from my many years of living in Jackson, and a number of agency representatives too-people from the Idaho and Wyoming Fish and Game agencies, the U.S. Forest Service and the National Park Service. They were friendly faces, for the issues surrounding whitebark pine and its future are not nearly as contentious as those swirling around things with big teeth and big horns. Agency officials, academics, anyone who explores whitebark forests, fall in love with the tree, and its intricate, complex, almost magical connections with Clark's nutcracker, squirrels, chipmunks, grizzly bears, elk, and even particular mycorrhiza fungi in the soil that, together, make up this high elevation ecosystem-a triumph of survival against the odds.

Around this tree has grown a community of friends, "whitebark warriors" I call them. Each contributes in his or her own way to understanding whitebark ecology; the dynamics of the disease (blister rust) that is killing it; mountain pine beetle (which is at unprecedented levels in whitebark pine due to warming temperatures); and the consequences of this foundational species' collapse for the Yellowstone ecosystem built around it. And you need a community, a kind of family, to shore each other up when things get to be too much, when the facts of what is happening to whitebark simply get too depressing.

For whitebark is dying so fast it makes your head spin. And its future depends on turning down the thermostat quickly-and that is a tall order in a society so dependent on fossil fuels.

One of the whitebark warriors who spoke at last week's event was climbing guide and author Thomas Turiano. Thomas spends about 7 months a year in the company of whitebark, on skis or on foot. He spoke about what it's like to take shelter under a full canopy of whitebark in a howling storm, and what it's like to walk or climb daily among these ancient giants.

The love of whitebark pine and the wilderness it represents holds this rag tag community of whitebark warriors together. The problem is that the community isn't big enough. Part of the purpose of our event last week was to expand the family. And to do that, you have to understand why whitebark is important, and how it builds ecosystems and creates the conditions for other trees to grow and for wildlife to flourish. And why, for the Yellowstone grizzly bear, whitebark pine is a matter of life and death. (See my previous blog entry for more on this.)

That evening, retired U.S. Forest Service beetle expert Dr. Jesse Logan provided a solid scientific foundation on the whitebark pine ecosystem and explained the unprecedented nature of the mountain pine beetle epidemic. He also debunked the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's (FWS) claim in its 2007 Yellowstone grizzly delisting decision that only 16% of whitebark had been affected by beetles. He called the FWS's science "deliberately misleading and dishonest." He also presented the results of some exciting new work that NRDC produced, in collaboration with EcoFlight pilot Bruce Gordon, GIS whiz Wally MacFarlane and others. Last summer, our aerial assessment found that there are large holes in the available Forest Service data, and that the beetle outbreak in whitebark pine is far worse than FWS has claimed.

Isn't the misuse of science to serve political agendas exactly the kind of problem that President Obama promised to fix? Didn't he call for transparency and sound science in agency decision-making? His message does not seem to have been heard by certain officials with political agendas here in the Rocky Mountain region.

After Jesse's talk, it was Doug Peacock's turn to deliver the final punch. The legendary writer, filmmaker and inspiration for Ed Abbey's George W. Hayduke character in the Monkey Wrench Gang, Doug has spent years in the close company of grizzly bears. He had attended last month's interagency grizzly meeting, as I did, where it was clear that the agencies are doctrinally opposed to relisting no matter what the facts are. Calling last year's mortality just a "spike," FWS officials never once admitted that allowable mortality levels had been breached-or that there is a serious problem with whitebark and therefore the future of the Yellowstone bear population. In the weeks since the meeting, Peacock's outrage had clearly not worn off.

He led the charge in asking the audience to sign a petition to the Obama administration requesting that endangered species protections be restored to the Yellowstone grizzly bear. The first signature on the petition was Terry Tempest Williams, author and passionate lover of all things wild. About 100 others signed the petition that night. And, hopefully, this will be the beginning of more pressure to relist the Great Bear.

For it will take an army-army of lovers of bears and the ecosystems they represent to turn things around. And, clearly, whitebark pine needs protection too-which is why NRDC filed a petition last December, aimed at providing more resources to monitoring, research and restoration of this imperiled tree.

It is sadly ironic that in Yellowstone, a threatened animal depends upon a threatened tree. We are proud of claiming Yellowstone as one of the last remaining intact ecosystems in the lower 48 states, replete with all the species that were here at the time of the Lewis and Clark expedition. But will they still be here for our great-great grandchildren? The intermingled fate of whitebark and grizzlies is in our hands.

Return to the Wild: a wolf tale with a different twist

2009-04-28T21:23:32Z

The film Return to the Wild: A Modern Tale of Wolf and Man offers a refreshing and candid view of wolves and the debate that swirls around their restoration in the Northern Rockies. Irish filmmaker Martin O'Brien tracks the stunning success of wolf introduction, beginning with shots of wolves bursting from their crates in Yellowstone Park in 1995, released to the wild following their long journey from Canada.

O'Brien places this successful endangered species recovery story firmly within the context of our historic antipathy toward wolves. What we did over the last few centuries to wolves goes beyond concern about competition with livestock, or simple fear. As National Park Service wolf expert Doug Smith tells the story in the film, we baited wolves with razor blades in meat so as to slice open their guts, we broke off their jaws and returned them into the wild, we gunned down pups. "It's amazing how good we were at killing wolves", comments Smith, somehow with a straight face. Indeed, we all but eliminated them from the lower 48 states by the 1940's.

But we humans have been learning, albeit haltingly and with some ambivalence, about the role wolves and other top carnivores play in maintaining functioning ecosystems. They don't just balance the number of prey--they help maintain the health of streamside vegetation such as willow, which in turn provides habitat for beavers, fisheries and songbirds. Fulfilling again their historic ecological role, wolves also make Yellowstone one of the last intact ecosystems in the lower 48 states-replete with all the species of wildlife that were here at the time of the Lewis and Clark expedition.

The film tracks wolf packs up close and personal-playing, sleeping, and hunting elk in Yellowstone Park. And it tracks the wolf "groupies", who flock to Yellowstone annually to celebrate an animal so long vilified.

O'Brien also provides a fair and compassionate portrayal of ranchers on the other side of the wolf debate, those who have lost livestock to wolves. People like Jim Mulin, who lost 25 sheep in one night and then gave up grazing sheep altogether, in favor of cows. Bumping along in his pickup truck, Mulin quizzed the filmmaker: "What do you call sheep? Grizzly marshmallows", and laughs, a big belly laugh.

Other ranchers, like Mike Stevens of the Lava Lake Land and Livestock Company, are making efforts nothing short of heroic to live with wolves. Aided by Wildlife Service's Rick Williamson, who resembles a bear, as well as a young able-bodied crew armed with telemetry gear, fladry, guard dogs and electric fence, the film documents Lava Lake's successful efforts to graze sheep in a 5,000 acre area. There were no livestock depredations during the summer when the film was shot.

"It's not easy", says Williamson in the film. "Wolves will habituate to anything you have, if you use it long enough. That's why you need all the tools in the bag". Williamson should know. He is one of the most successful Wildlife Services agents in the challenging arena of livestock husbandry that does not necessitate killing wolves. It's not that he hasn't killed his share of wolves during his career. It's just that he is a wise and practical soul, with a calm demeanor, a lot of skills, a can-do attitude and a commitment to make peace, where possible, with wolves and the domestic animals they too often view as food. It's people like Williamson and Stevens who offer new hope of a different kind of future for wolves and man in the West.

This modern tale is, at bottom, a story of competing values. About an old value system involved in dominating the West, and developing frontier (which is even embodied in children's cartoons of the big bad wolf), versus a new, competing value system that respects the wild, and wolves' rightful place in the ecosystems they help maintain.

As Smith says in the film, "We've got to come up with some better ways to live with wildlife. We've got to work it out somehow. We live in a time where we are losing bits of everything -- wolves help us put things back".

Amen to that! Here's to forging a new relationship, and telling a new story about wolves and ranchers and all of us living, together, in our own frail, faulty, human way, in this remarkable landscape that is the Northern Rockies.

Climbing lesson for wolf managers

2009-03-27T21:45:03Z

This week, as we await the imminent release by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service of its decision to delist wolves in Montana and Idaho, I was reminded by a scar on my hand - the result of a old climbing accident - of a lesson relevant to wolf managers as much as myself. It is a lesson about humility: the importance of operating with the right intentions and within one's abilities.

The delisting decision will precipitate the killing of hundreds of wolves- possibly 600 or more in the two states. While wolves in Wyoming will remain on the endangered species list, management of wolves in Idaho and Montana will be returned to the states. The states, full of bravado about being ready to manage wolves without federal oversight, are poised to over reach. Rumors are already circulating that in Idaho, Wildlife Services is stepping up its efforts to "preemptively" kill wolves at Idaho's behest - wolves that could very possibly include pregnant or lactating females and even pups. On the state's hit list are 25 packs as well as roughly 120 wolves in the Clearwater. This "preemptive" killing program is separate from the 300-plus wolves that Idaho plans to kill in hunts this fall. Add to this an estimated 100 illegally killed wolves (this figure from last year was recently published in FWS' annual wolf report), then mix in Montana's proposed wolf hunt of 75 wolves

You don't have to be an expert to know that killing 600 or more wolves out of a total population of 1600 is a big problem, promising to set back the hard-fought progress toward recovery. The truth is that we can recover wolves and delist them-it's a goal that is within our reach. But FWS' current plan doesn't get us there.

And, because the plan also fails to guarantee resources needed to help reduce wolf/livestock depredations, the plan doesn't do a lot to help ranchers either. To fill the funding short-fall for wolf management, the states have been calling for federal government bail-out money to manage wolves once they are removed from the federal list. But that's not the way the system works. States get federal funds to help recover imperiled species that are on the endangered species list. The federal funds disappear after a species is delisted. With the current fiscal crisis, what are the chances that taxpayers will choose to spend millions more on wolves? Like so many financial institutions we've heard about recently, the states want to have their cake and eat it too.

There's a lesson to be learned here about over-reaching, being overconfident and losing common sense. I learned it 30 years ago, climbing in the Tetons. I was young and fit, and wanted to show my boyfriend that I could lead a 5.7 pitch on Mount Moran. I looked down onto the valley of Jackson Hole, more than 5,000 feet below. Bad mistake - the exposure nearly took my breath away. The first part of the pitch went pretty quickly, but then I bogged down in a crack in the granite. I jammed one fist into it, clenched it, a good solid hold. With the left hand, I gripped a small rock nub of granite and moved up. I lost my grip and fell, hanging on my jammed fist. Shaking, I got my feet underneath me again and placed a chock right above my head, clipping the rope through. I started up again and my foot slipped. Suddenly, I pealed off and fell below the chock, pulling it out. I sailed below the piece underneath that, falling about 20 feet before I was stopped by my boyfriend's belay. It seemed like eternity for him to talk me down to his ledge, where he took over my lead.

I should have known better. In retrospect, I was not ready to lead that pitch. I was trying to prove a point and make an impression. That's not the right attitude for climbing-or for wolf management. The scar on my right hand still reminds me of the need for humility, a realistic appraisal of one's abilities, and maintaining the right intention. We don't want to scar the successful wolf recovery work accomplished so far, by letting overconfident states take the lead too early.

Hypothermic for Yvon and Patagonia

2009-03-18T23:16:24Z

Yesterday I had the nearest miss with hypothermia I've had in years of mountaineering and outdoor adventuring. A photo crew from Colorado came to shoot me for the Patagonia summer catalog, which will feature the work of several conservation leaders in the West. The weather was in the upper 30's, windy, with several inches of fresh snow -- nothing for a Montanan to worry about. But Tyler and Draper, the photographers, wanted me in shirt sleeves, looking warm and casual -- like summer. I would be next to a tank top ad, they said.

Needless-to-say, I am not the babe-like specimen typically featured in Patagonia catalogues. And I learned from Tyler, 15 or so years my junior, that none of my clothes were right. The clogs I've worn every day for nearly 25 years: wrong. Blue jeans: too short. Beat-up, out-of-style Patagonia shirts, no. The t-shirts I offered up, nope. Finally, in exasperation and a little embarrassment, I let him examine the contents of my closet -- where he found a 15 year old button-down, checked shirt with a few holes -- perfect. (O.K., I admit it: it's a Royal Robbins.)

Then they shot me in front of our barn, having hosed and shoveled the snow out of the way, with the door slightly opened. They liked that look, but it meant, of course, that the three goats inside wouldn't stay there. A goat rodeo was guaranteed. Annie, Lydia, and Man Goat checked out the camera gear, sniffed at Draper's face, chewed on the hose, butted my dog Little Guy, and eventually broke open a beautifully wrapped box of chocolates that the photographers had graciously given me as a present. In between they got a few shots.

Hours later, they had me standing at sunset on one of the few wind-blown (brown) spots they could find, waiting for the perfect constellation of clouds. It was a long wait. I put on my parka as we watched the sun slip over the Gallatin Range and flood the sky with a golden afterglow. We watched pink and orange fingers move across the valley, and massage the shoulders of Livingston Peak. The Gallatin Range became backlight with stunning gray and yellow clouds, moving fast, propelled by high winds.

To fill in the time until the light was perfect in the photographers' view, I found myself telling them stories, old stories, of my experience with Patagonia, and their support for my grizzly bear and other conservation work -- work that has a way, as bears do, of demanding a lot of space and tolerance, and rubbing people the wrong way.

I told of Yvon Chouinard's early gift, in 1987, to the Greater Yellowstone Coalition, where I worked as program director for 10 years. It was a gift of $5,000 -- a fortune, it seemed at the time -- for the protection of the Clarks Fork of the Yellowstone, the headwaters of the longest free-flowing (undammed) river left in the country. Our goal was to protect the Clarks Fork as a Wild and Scenic River, in a state where none had been designated for reasons that have nothing to do with the wildness of its rivers: Wyoming is one of the most conservative anti-environmental states in the country. Even my friends in the Sierra Club laughed initially when I told them of my dream.

Yvon had been one of the first kayakers to descend the Clarks Fork Canyon, thought for many years to be unrunnable; and he was an avid ice-climber who had ventured there too in the winter.

On a trip to Bozeman, his climbing buddy Jack Tackle told him of our small, up-start organization (then only a few years old) that was daring to protect the Clarks Fork, taking on the "water buffalos" (read: dam-builders), and the fiercely conservative Wyoming congressional delegation (remember Alan Simpson?).

Yvon's gift showed his confidence in our efforts, and buoyed us. And it allowed us to pursue the tedious, often unpopular political work of cultivating support for this river among conservative Wyoming communities such as Cody. Indeed, the work became so controversial that at one point, Senator Simpson promised to "wrap a tire-iron around the neck of Lamar Empey," one of the campaign's local leaders. (This is no joke, it's a direct quote).

The success of the Clarks Fork campaign, and its designation in 1992 as a Wild and Scenic river, with the support of Wyoming Governor Mike Sullivan and the state's congressional delegation, helped make it possible a few years later to win a campaign against Noranda's New World gold mine, which threatened Yellowstone Park's wildlife and waters, including the Clarks Fork. The second battle would have been a lot harder without the first -- and the first was kicked off, in part, by a gift from Patagonia and Yvon, in his ice-climbing clothes.

Many other conservation groups have similar stories: because of the support of Yvon Chouinard and Patagonia at an early, key stage, they were able to gain the traction needed to win in even the most hostile arenas in the West. The ripple effects of their gifts have been as big as Montana's sky.

Which just then broke open: the gray clouds right above me were back-lit in pink. Coat off, they said. Look warm, nice summer day. I was thankful that they were shooting stills, not film, so my shaking wouldn't show. I tried to smile and looked toward the snow-covered Absaroka Mountains, the northern reach of an ecosystem I've spent 30 years trying to protect.

Thank you Patagonia, thank you Yvon! I would be happy to get hypothermic for you anytime.

“Think about the children”

2009-03-06T18:30:19Z

In a picture of last weekend's anti-wolf rally in Kalispell, the newspaper showed a guy in hunter orange holding up a placard that said: "Think about the children". Beside him stood a girl, about seven years old, in an orange cap and an unzipped vest, looking cold.

She was about the same age as the twenty kids at the Livingston Montessori School that I told stories to last week. Stories of wolves and bears, and how our lives have been tangled up with each other for centuries. In one, a wolf helps an incompetent Russian prince survive innumerable scrapes. In the other, a bear dreams the world into being each winter-a landscape rich with antelope, iris, whitebark pine-and people. For this, she is celebrated in the spring when she emerges from her den, trailed by her young cubs. She is celebrated by each animal in its own way (at which point I get to do a lot of animal voices).

Little hands shot up after each story-questions about what wolves eat, how bears sleep through the winter without eating or pooping. The kids who had seen these animals in person had to tell their stories.

The kids' curiosity and enthusiasm matched their endurance. Although each story was 25 minutes long, they listened attentively. At the end, they asked for more. I said, "I have one about a snake and another about a parrot". The teacher looked at me with a disciplinarian's eye. So I stuck with a question/answer format, and promised to keep it short.

Some questions were practical-like about bear spray and how it worked. ("Yeah, I bit into a pepper one time and my lip got all swolled up"). There were a lot about food, ("when bears eat ants, do they bite their mouth"?), and poop. Poop was a biggie-telling wolf pop from bear poop-and generated a lot of giggles.

By contrast, there was little to laugh about in the articles leading up to last weekend's anti-wolf protest in Kalispell. In an ad that preceded the rally, there was a warning: "Please, absolutely no weapons." And, "participate at your own risk." Sounds like a good time, huh? Maybe that's why only a couple dozen people showed up. Another reason could be that most hunters know that elk in the region are at all time highs-so many in fact, that ranchers have been begging Fish and Game to expand the elk hunt so they don't chow down on their haystacks so much.

Hands were still in the air when the teacher gave me the cut-off look. I got up to go and two kids threw their arms around me at butt level. One boy, Nathan, almost wouldn't let go. "Thank you", he said, in the faintest whisper.

What is missing among some of the "hard line" anti-wolf advocates-the kind that have to remind each other to leave their guns at home even when they are just meeting up with each other- is curiosity, compassion and humor. Curiosity about wolf/livestock, wolf/elk dynamics, which are interesting and can be somewhat surprising.

One example is a recently published scientific article that shows how the wolves divvy up their hunting roles according to body size: the smaller wolves tend to be faster and take on a lot of the chasing, while the heftier males, which aren't as fast on their feet, can come in at the end, bringing down an elk four times the size of a wolf. Just like a human family-you turn to Dad or big sister to unscrew the lid off a tight can, while the other members of the family help prepare the meals in other ways.

All of us would benefit from a little more curiosity and willingness to learn, and the courage, sometimes childlike, to ask open-ended questions of those you don't necessarily agree with. And a dose of the attitude displayed by the Montessori kids-kids who will grow up to reshape the debate about wolves.

It's just as the placard at the Kalispell rally said: "Think about the children."

Wolf Howls to Oblivious Pets

2009-02-12T16:17:30Z

I heard a wolf howl last evening, at dusk, right near our house. Three long, outrageous, unmistakable howls, rolling down from the snow-covered ridge above -- a lone voice that seemed to emanate from a stand of limber pine and Douglas fir.

I was watering the goats, when I heard the first howl. They were butting and bumping against each other, and me, eager for hay. They didn't seem to hear it. Neither did Kiybu, our geriatric and somewhat deaf dog. Kiybu's response would have been different, just a few years ago. Once, while skiing not far from here, we (the dogs and I) heard a wolf howl, Kiybu, the alpha female of our pack, had tucked herself behind me, as if for protection.

It's a good thing that this wolf doesn't live in Idaho's wild Lolo country, where Idaho Fish and Game Department is gearing up to slaughter every last wolf -- maybe 75 animals total. We expect a proposal any day now -- and are sharpening our legal tools for action, again. There, as elsewhere, wolves are being scapegoated (or scapewolved?), wrongly blamed for reducing elk-when, according to experts, forest succession after long-ago fires have been the cause of a slight elk decline in the Lolo area.

Still, there are record numbers of elk overall in the region -- so many elk, in fact, that they are still being hunted this winter to reduce numbers in some places where they exceed sustainable levels. With such abundance, we should be able to share a few elk with wolves. But facts matter little, if they get in the way of the Old West, wolf-killing mentality. (Got a problem? Kill a wolf).

It will be a long time, generations maybe, for the traditional Old West view of nature to die out. But eventually, it will be replaced with more compassionate views towards the increasingly scarce wildlife and wildlands of the West. In the meantime, there is an important role for NRDC and our partners to play in keeping wolves alive and healthy in a region where anti-wolf forces are well armed.

After the last howl died out, I stood among the impatient goats, and listened to the silence. Snow fell softly, and so did the darkness. How strange is the silence, after it is split by the howl of a wolf.

Then I locked the goats inside the barn, for protection.

Solstice: A dark day for Yellowstone wolves

2008-12-17T22:45:53Z

As I mail off my last Christmas gifts this week, I'm also waiting anxiously for a last lump of coal from the Bush administration: the decision to delist the Northern Rockies wolf. In a rush to remove endangered species protections before it leaves office, the administration is thumbing its nose at Judge Donald Molloy's July 28th ruling that rejected its previous delisting decision and reinstated endangered species protections. Indeed, the deficiencies identified by the judge can't be addressed within a few short months. Wyoming, for example, has not had the chance to address the inadequacies in its state law, which allows wolves to be killed by anyone, at anytime, under nearly any circumstance in about 90% of the state, because the state legislature does not convene until January.

This administration seems hell-bent in its last hours to give "Satan's dog" its due at Christmas time: another death sentence similar to the last one. A death sentence for up to a thousand wolves, and a shocking reversal of the incredible progress made toward wolf recovery since wolves were reintroduced to the region thirteen years ago. At winter solstice, it's the darkest of the year in more ways than one.

It's been cold in Montana too -- 15 below zero yesterday at our house. When I pushed our reluctant geriatric dogs outside, they tiptoed around the yard, picking up their feet as if walking on broken glass. Within 5 minutes, Little Guy, our English Shepard, was back at the door begging to return to indoor warmth.

Our beloved dogs would be an embarrassment to their ancestors, wolves, whose best hunting days are in winter. They thrive in frigid temperatures and deep snows, the kind of weather that reveals the vulnerabilities of elk. In Yellowstone, I've seen wolves out in much colder temperatures than today, just curl up in a spot sheltered from the wind, and fall asleep.

As our dogs age, we're doing everything we can to keep them going, including chiropractic and acupuncture. (O.K., I admit it, this is the kind of excess that can happen when you don't have kids).

But Northern Rockies wolves don't need fancy vets, they just need to be left alone. Which means right now, that they need champions -- and especially good lawyers. And at this moment, my husband and the other attorneys at Earthjustice are preparing once again to go to court to defend them on behalf of NRDC and many other groups in the region.

As we approach the darkest day of the year, let us hope that these capable attorneys can bring light and hope to Northern Rockies wolves -- just as wolves, in return, remind us how to behave as family: hunting together, playing, teaching the young, and surviving the tough times, together.

Ho-Ho-Ho-or perhaps howl-howl-howl!

The silent tragedy of whitebark pine

2008-12-09T17:14:57Z

As far as the eye could see, the whitebark pine trees were dead or dying. Below the Wind River's Union Peak, Dr. Jesse Logan, I and a small group of others were exploring the forests to see what whitebark was still healthy, and what had been hit by mountain pine beetle and an introduced disease, white pine blister rust.

Whitebark pine trees, as small as 6" in diameter, were covered with orange needles from beetle attacks earlier this summer or last. Others still had green needles, but the bark was shot full of reddish beetle bore holes: standing dead trees. Only the very young whitebark, too small to be worth the beetles' efforts, were healthy.

Like a weed, the adaptive and aggressive mountain pine beetle was taking advantage of new habitat in whitebark pine forests, thanks to warming winter temperatures that allow it to survive at higher elevations in whitebark pine forests. (Sheltered by the bark of the trees, the beetle larva produce an anti-freeze like substance that allows them to survive frigid winter temperatures at high elevations.)

The speed of the beetle outbreak is breathtaking, and the epidemic exacerbates other threats to whitebark pine forests, including blister rust, drought and global warming. The consequences of losing this unique forest ecosystem will be catastrophic for a variety of wildlife, including Yellowstone grizzlies, which rely on whitebark pine for food and shelter. That's why we have been working for months on a petition to list whitebark pine (http://docs.nrdc.org/legislation/files/leg_08120801a.pdf), to focus more attention and resources on addressing the threats while there is still more time.

As we traversed the gentle slopes upward, out of the mixed spruce/fir/whitebark forests, and into pure whitebark pine stands, Jesse and I still held out hope. Indeed, it was hard not to be optimistic on such as stunningly beautiful late August day in the Wind Rivers, one of my favorite places on earth. The sky was crystal mountain blue, and we were high enough to see four other mountain ranges: the Tetons, the Absarokas, Gros Ventres and Wyoming ranges. At our feet, late summer flowers were still blooming: white yarrow, aster, blue harebell and yellow potentilla.

I felt happy and grateful to be in the Winds again, and profoundly privileged to be with my friend and colleague Dr. Jesse Logan. It's not just Jesse's wild enthusiasm for nature, or his immense knowledge of forest ecology. He is great company, curious about all aspects of nature-and a kind and generous soul who care passionately about wilderness and the future of its iconic tree: whitebark pine. Jesse and I also share the excitement of exploring wild country- and the drive to save it.

The view ahead looked promising: open stands of whitebark pine, much of it green, at 10,500 feet. And on the ridge above us, there was the gnarled "krummholz" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krummholz)-bent and twisted whitebark, crouching low to the ground as a defense against gale-force alpine winds.

One massive, whitebark pine caught Jesse's and my eye almost simultaneously, and we both gravitated towards it. It stood alone against a backdrop of rocky knobs-Precambrian granite, some of the oldest rock on earth. The tree looked more then 5 feet thick in the girth: the kind of whitebark that can easily be over 1,000 years old. Its needles were green too, and from the distance of several hundred yards, it looked healthy.

Jesse and I picked up our pace. I got to it first. And there they were: tell-tale red bore holes everywhere, like tiny bullets. Red sawdust lay sprinkled at its feet, like dried blood. I walked around this giant, clockwise, as Buddhists do around a temple. Its backside had been blasted by lightening and had weathered to a golden brown.

This tree had survived hundreds and hundreds of years. It had given shelter to elk, it had fed grizzly bears and squirrels and Clark's nutcrackers and crossbills-and perhaps Sheepeater Indians. It had been pounded by everything that nature could throw at it: 90 mile per hour winds, lightening, snow, ice and drought. But it couldn't survive what we humans have thrown at it-the warming of the planet that, in turn, has powered an unprecedented outbreak of mountain pine beetles.

I ran my hand down the fine, now lifeless skin of this mammoth tree, the strip that had become smooth from years of weathering following the lightening strike. Silent in death as it had been in life.

I heard Jesse's footsteps as he approached the other side of the tree. I walked around to greet him. His face stricken, Jesse said nothing. Grief blew our words away. Grief for this great tree, for the quiet tragic ending of a magnificent forest. For the ancient wisdom and wildness we all will have lost, when these forests are gone.

Blood bath for Yellowstone grizzlies

2008-12-04T23:41:14Z

A shortened version of this opinion piece was published in the Billings Gazette on November 30th, 2008

This year has been a blood bath for Yellowstone grizzly bears. A total of 49 grizzlies are known to have died, breaching the allowable thresholds for grizzly mortality for males and females. To find a year this bad, you have to go back to 1972, shortly after the Yellowstone dumps were closed. That was when grizzly hunting was legal and before bears were protected under the Endangered Species Act.

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service grizzly coordinator brushed off the seriousness of the situation, saying: "we've seen high mortality years like this before, and the population is increasing". There are a number of problems with this response. First, using the government's new methodology, this year's population estimate is based on the number of females with cubs this year, and does not reflect this year's mortalities. Remember that stock performance warning that "past performance is no guarantee of future success"?

To compensate for this kind of loss, the population would have to increase next year at 15-18% or so--a virtual impossibility for an animal that reproduces very, very slowly. In addition, with the breaching of mortality thresholds, the clock has begun to tick on a status review of the population. If mortality levels are exceeded next year, under the delisting rule, the agencies much undertake a review of the population and consider restoring federal protections to the Yellowstone grizzly.

The sad thing is, that most human-caused mortalities in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem are avoidable.

The methods to avoid problems are tried and true. They include carrying (and knowing how to use) bear pepper spray, early removal of game carcasses from the field, careful sanitation and backcountry practices, and being alert and prepared for a grizzly encounter. These practices are especially important in poor years for the grizzly's key food source: whitebark pine seeds. Whitebark pine seeds are the engine that drives the health of the grizzly population in the Greater Yellowstone. These seeds are essential to the reproductive success of females. And by growing in remote, high, wild places, whitebark pine forests keep grizzly bears out of harm's way: scientists have shown that in poor seed years, grizzlies die at rates 3 times higher than in good seed years.

With the unprecedented outbreak of mountain pine beetles in whitebark pine forests due to global warming, all years in the future are likely going to be bad years for whitebark pine. Some experts predict the functional loss of whitebark pine in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem in the next 7 to 10 years. That's bad news for bears, and for the rest of us, too.

The delisting plan was based on the notion of adaptive management: if conditions change on the ground, agencies will make needed adjustments. Sounds reasonable. If whitebark pine seed crops fail, agencies said that they would develop early warning systems, alerting key members of the public, such as hunters, that they need to be especially careful and prepared for grizzly encounters. So what happened? Obviously, not nearly enough in time to prevent the massive death toll.

So far, with grizzly bears, adaptive management has proven to be little more than empty rhetoric.

This is not to say that state and federal employees are not working around-the-clock to keep people and bears safe. But the efforts are largely reactive, not proactive. And the removal of endangered species protections make it even more difficult to punish bad actors. Further, the current regulatory mechanisms are unenforceable: none of the states are legally bound to prevent mortalities from exceeding the limits outline in the government's bear management plans.

So if we know that habitat quality will continue to decline in the parks and wilderness, where most whitebark pine forests are located, how will the grizzly bear population be sustained? It is clear that grizzly bears are going to need access to other suitable habitats, places like the Wind Rivers, Palisades, Centennials and Gravellies, to compensate for the loss of whitebark pine in the core of the ecosystem. In addition, agencies, non-governmental organizations, and everybody who recreates in grizzly country must redouble conflict prevention efforts, because grizzlies will be encountering people more often and dying at higher rates.

It's time to stop denying the problem and do something about it. With the lowest reproductive rates of any mammal in North America, grizzlies are especially vulnerable. They have already been reduced to 1% of their former range because of excessive killing and habitat loss. The hard earned progress towards recovery can be quickly reversed in a few years like this. The Yellowstone grizzly, symbol of our wilderness heritage, deserves our best efforts to ensure that it will still be here for our grandchildren in and around our nation's oldest park.

Thanksgiving, Upside Down

2008-12-01T17:37:31Z

Oh to do a headstand outside on Thanksgiving, at 4300 feet in Montana! My bare feet reach skyward towards the immense blue. The crown of my head roots on thin soil covering glacial till, dumped here 10,000 years ago by melting mile-deep ice.

If I tried this stunt in a "normal" year, my head and neck would be impaled in snow. But this warming world grows new surprises; and here I am, upside down, looking at the Absaroka Mountains, Livingston Peak drooping with a white nipple of snow, her shoulders draped with dark pine forests.

Here in Livingston, famed for its wind, there is no sound but for the goats grazing nearby and the whimpers of our yellow dog, Kiybu. She lies before me, chin height, twitching in dreams of deer chasing, though her chasing days are over.

With vast sky at my feet, this view is dreamlike too -- one that I'll try to hold as long as shoulders will allow. Headstand: my practice in seeing a world upside down, thankful and without fear.

Giving thanks to wolves’ congressional champions

2008-11-26T18:49:18Z

During Thanksgiving week, it's appropriate to give thanks to important congressional champions for wolves: Nick Joe Rahall (D-WV), George Miller (D-CA), Jim Saxton (R-NJ), and Norm Dicks (D-WA). As they did last year, last week these congressmen once again weighed in on behalf of Northern Rockies wolves. As the Bush Administration steamrolls toward a wolf delisting decision before it leaves office, these champions spoke plainly in their November 17th letter: "rushing the process, using the same failed proposal as a basis, will not lead to a constructive solution, and will likely spark more litigation."

So true. Wyoming's recent release of virtually the same wolf plan that was rejected by Judge Molloy two months ago demonstrates that this state is not ready for the keys to the car of wolf management. The stage is set for another round of wolf litigation.

It is worth noting that Yellowstone has always relied on congressional champions from around the country to protect its magnificent natural resources. Given local opposition, Yellowstone would never have been created as the nation's first park without congressional support from around the USA. Congressmen Rahall, Miller, Saxton and Dicks are maintaining an important tradition of national champions sticking up for Yellowstone's resources when local decision-makers (here, in cahoots with the Bush administration) drop the ball.

The current wolf delisting plan is a turkey. Instead of stuffing and dressing it up, Fish and Wildlife Service would be wise to follow the sage advice outlined in the congressional's letter: revise the plan, carefully considering Judge Molloy's ruling, and "allow the next administration to address the inadequacies of the rule."

We are again working through this holiday season on our comments on the latest wolf delisting proposal, as we have done over the last two years; the Bush administration has typically set its comment deadlines during holiday seasons, so as to frustrate public input. (This one is November 28th, the day after Thanksgiving).

In this special time of year, it is important to give thanks for the fact that wolves are still here, for the hundreds of wolves that are yet alive and were not hunted down this fall, for Judge Molloy's ruling, and for the support of champions willing to speak out on behalf of wolf recovery in the Northern Rockies.

Please add your voice to the list of wolf champions by going to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qNSzkVHbstU and signing your name to NRDC's petition to stop the delisting of gray wolves in the Northern Rockies!

When will they ever learn?

2008-10-27T23:53:40Z

Today we received a plan by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service reopening the public comment period on the 2007 proposal to remove endangered species protections from Northern Rockies wolves. This plan fails to make any substantive changes, despite a recent ruling by Federal District Judge Donald Molloy that found its previous delisting rule defective. Molloy's ruling reinstated federal wolf protections in late July-and just three months later, the federal government is trying to strip them again without addressing the fundamental problems of wolf conservation.

For starters, wolves are not yet recovered. The three populations have not achieved a total size of several thousand animals, which experts maintain is necessary to ensure the long-term health of the population. Of particular concern (to us and to Judge Molloy) is the isolation of Yellowstone wolves, whose long-term health relies on genetic exchange with other wolves populations to the west and north.

Recovery may have been set back this year too. The population numbers dipped because of high mortality of pups in Yellowstone, apparently due to disease, according to Yellowstone Park wolf expert Doug Smith. Any delisting plan must account for the significant potential impact of disease on the population-FWS' didn't.

Another key concern is the predator zone in Wyoming, which comprises nearly 90% of the state, where wolves can be shot on sight. We learned the hard way that wolves wander into this zone at their peril, when a number were gunned down at elk feed grounds, the day after the delisting rule became effective in late April. These were wolves that weren't doing anything wrong. They were just in the wrong place, Wyoming, which unfortunately for wolves, comprises the lion-share of their habitat in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.

Although there is a current discussion among state legislators, ranchers and others about changing Wyoming's laws and removing the predator zone in Wyoming, that can not be accomplished until the state legislature convenes in January, 2009. So why isn't the Bush administration giving Wyoming a chance to get it right and fix the problems identified in the judge's ruling? Is it because in the administration is in a terrible rush to get wolves off the list by the time it leaves office?

The tragic thing is that with a little patience, openness to incorporating new scientific information, and a willingness to bring all parties together to solve real-world conflicts between wolves and livestock, the administration could actually get to real recovery.

But no.

Once again, the Bush administration invites unnecessary conflict, controversy and litigation on the recovery of an iconic species that is within our nation's reach. After committing $27 million from taxpayers to recover an animal that has been extirpated in 95% of its former range, this administration wants to reverse the gains and jeopardize this incredible conservation success story.

I am reminded of refrain in a Bob Dylan song: "when will they ever learn?" The answer, my friend, may be blowing in the winds in some places in the Northern Rockies, but not in Washington D.C., where these ill-conceived policies are being concocted.

Of Wolves, Bears and the Yaak: the Power of Story

2008-08-02T17:05:02Z

Last Saturday, I was the guest story teller at the Yaak wilderness festival, an eclectic annual gathering of woodsworkers, back-to-the-landers, local artists, writers, musicians, and conservationists committed to protecting an incredible stretch of wild country that is the Cabinet Yaak Ecosystem. (See Rick Bass’s piece in the last issue of OnEarth Magazine). Lots of kids running around, many with faces painted to look like cats, butterflies, and other animals, thanks to a woman seated at a table with a palette of bright paints. Booths selling local jewelry, hooked rugs, hemp neckwear, and smoothies were doing a brisk business. With 200 people on a hot July day, the beer and bratwurst went fast.

The Yaak Valley Forest Council, a group I have worked with for many years and long admired, sponsored the event. This group of iconoclasts and creative spirits came together through a shared sense of urgency over the threats to their native trout and watersheds, forests and wildlife, as well as their way of life, and work tirelessly to protect and restore what local author Rick Bass calls “the land that the Wilderness Act forgot.”

It is easy to forget the Cabinet Yaak. There is no big-name park in the middle of it, like Glacier or Yellowstone. And despite an abundance of wild forest lands, as Rick Bass says, there is no congressionally designated Wilderness in the entire Yaak, the northern part of this remote ecosystem.

Tucked away in a quiet corner of northwest Montana, the Cabinet Yaak, with its lush cedar-hemlock forests, is a jungle compared to the open dry forests of Yellowstone country where I am from. Indeed, this land is part of an extensive interior rainforest that extends for miles north into Canada in the geologic lowland called the “Rocky Mountain Trench.”

But despite the ecological differences between this place and Yellowstone, these ecosystems share threatened populations of grizzlies, wolverines, and wolves, and other wildlife that rely on large tracts of untrammeled country. Both regions are riddled with old clearcuts and logging roads, that fragment habitat and increase poaching. The remoteness of these ecosystems and their abundance of wildlife is a double-edged sword. These qualities are attracting new residents – lots and lots of them. On one hand, they add to the diversity of the local culture, while on the other, they can bring old habits, like leaving out unsecured garbage, which can be a problem for bears. And more and more newcomers are bringing new recreational toys such as four wheelers, which are penetrating the last bits of wild country that remain. Ahh we humans, we can be such a curse – and/or a blessing.

I was the act between the music sessions. And I was nervous, and not because I was standing in front of a couple hundred somewhat distracted people. And it was not because I seemed, to some perhaps, to delay the appearance of regionally acclaimed folksinger Amy Martin. It was because I was telling a couple of stories that meant a lot to me and I didn’t want to blow it.

One was an excerpt of a play I had written a few years back, called “Dreaming with Cheney,” about a grizzly who tries to save her habitat by persuading people of its importance, showing them what was happening to it, and reminding them of the old, old stories that show the interconnectedness of the lives of bears and humans throughout thousands of years of shared history. She does this by invading the dream lives of humans including, eventually, Dick Cheney.

Of course I had cleaned the piece up for the kids, and tailored it to this audience. I put in the characters of the champions of the Yaak – people like Yaak Forest Council director Robyn King and organizer Scott Daily – and took out all the stuff about Dick Cheney. Even without Cheney, who provided a lot of the comedy in the original, it remained an important piece for me, because these were my words – not those of some storyteller who lived hundreds of years ago – and because the bear at the center of it was a grizzly from the Cabinet Yaak.

With only 20-40 grizzlies, this bear population is in desperate trouble. Although I work hard to better their prospects through engaging in processes to improve roads standards, promoting protection of their wilderness habitat, and working with colleagues to prevent a massive silver/copper mine from being built, I can never get away from the stark reality of the tragedy that is taking place here. These bears are on the brink of disaster, and the numbers are declining. When you are that close to zero, extinction is not far off. If I could not find a way to make these bears’ story real and relevant and a little bit funny, I did not know how to bear (so to speak) their tragic plight. And yes, my piece is full of puns.

Well the sound system was weird, and my voice echoed what I was saying behind me, so I could hear myself twice. The hot sun felt like a hammer. After the first few lines, my throat stuck and I realized that I did not have a glass of water. And then I saw Rick Bass, one of my heroes, in the back row.

But somehow the power of the story pulled me along. And at one point when I needed to find a young person in the audience to engage with me in the piece, my eyes landed on a tan, young woman in a tank top who smiled at me at just the right time. She took up her part perfectly.

The second story was easier, because the day had cooled off, sound system worked better - - and it was an old Russian fairy tale. I had grown so tired of all the bad fairy tales about wolves, that I had set out to find one where the wolf was not about to eat somebody. There are a lot actually. In this one, “Prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Grey Wolf, ” the prince is basically an incompetent boob who is saved from disaster and succeeds in his quest, by being willing to ride a wolf after it eats his horse. In these old stories, they say that you can look at all the characters as parts of or qualities in yourself. The piece turns on the young prince’s daring to mount the wolf – that wild and wise part of himself that knows what to do and where to go to find what he needs. The wolf here is that deep, wild wisdom, that inner knowing, that is inside in all of us, if we will just listen.

The crowd had grown by this time, and a group of about 15 kids, almost all of them with faces painted like animals, sprawled in a half circle right in front of me. The story took 25 minutes to tell (a classic Russian story), but the kids, even the really little ones, listened the whole way through. As with most kids, that wild wolf spirit has not yet been killed off or tamed with years of “education” and acculturation.

I’m hoping these kids never forget how to listen to that wild wolf inside themselves when they grow up. And that they will always be able to hear the howl of the wolf and see the sign of the grizzly in the Yaak, which still retains its magic to take us deep into the wild.