If you saw our FB post about our yard elk, you know that a bull has shown up in the neighborhood as the rut begins. We watched him one day over a week ago in the street out front as he looked for the cows that tend to hang around here.
This is the pic we posted several days ago of the elk as seen through a living room window (click photos to enlarge)
Well, now he has appeared a bit closer to our home. A few days ago I had to have my truck windshield replaced. The mobile unit came and they were in the driveway for about an hour to do the work. I was out under the deck overhang watching and talking with them. When they drove off, I walked up the deck steps and as I turned the corner to step on the deck, there he was, maybe 20 feet from me. We were both startled, and he raised up and turned around (he was eating a shrub in our narrow walkway next to the side deck). He took a few steps and turned his head and just stared at me. Respectfully, I backed away and went inside the basement and up the stairs to grab my phone for a pic. He moved around to the back side of the yard and was again browsing on some of the shrubs. He had to move differently than I have seen the cows do when eating at the fence cages around many of our side yard plants. His antlers made it more difficult to just lower your head and eat leaves sticking out of the mesh. He had to angle his head so the antlers would not get caught in the fencing. After pulling some plants through the mesh, he came around from behind the fencing and stared up at the mountain ash branches. I was hoping he would stand up on his hind legs to get the branch as I have seen the cow elk do across the street, but he just ambled on up the hill toward the cliff.
The bull elk wondering what that would taste likeThings that can happen when a large bull elk wants to get at some plants in your yard. He knocked over this chair and left a calling card (dark scat in lower right corner of pic).I grabbed my camera and went out on the deck as he walked up the hill. He paused to give me another look.
There was one cow up at the base of the cliff and he turned to go in her direction but then tuned around and walked along the path where I have the trail camera.
While this is a nice bull, he looks like a teenager compared to the dominant bull now in the park in Mammoth. Known as #24, he is massive and has claimed quite a harem of cows. He recently battled another large bull and maintained his status as the dominant. I haven’t been able to get a pic of him yet as there is always a large crowd when he is out and rangers are keeping people a safe distance from him and the other elk. But this week, I did see what I am guessing is the bull elk he defeated. This large bull was resting along the road near Mammoth. Note the broken tips on a couple of his antler tines. Like #24, his antlers are much larger and thicker than the town bull that is hanging around our house.
This may be the bull that was recently defeated in a challenge match of shoving and antler clashing with the dominant #24 bull in Mammoth
And now another wildlife event is happening…as I was typing this, our neighbor texted that a black bear and 2 cubs had just been in our side yard where the bull elk photos were taken. By the time we got out there they had left and gone across the road and were running across a field possibly due to some dogs barking. Our neighbor texted us this pic taken through her window screen of the sow and one cub after they jumped up on our propane tank in an attempt to get in the back yard. They stayed for just a few seconds and then walked off around her house and crossed the road. It is never dull here for sure.
Hummingbird teaches us to transcend time, to recognize that what has happened in the past and what might happen in the future is not nearly as important as what we are experiencing now. It teaches us to hover in the moment, to appreciate its sweetness
~Constance Barrett Sohodski
We were looking forward to seeing some different hummingbirds this summer at our feeders here in Montana. We loved watching the antics of the ruby-throated hummingbirds back in NC but they are a species that does not occur here in Yellowstone country. We learned that there are three species we should look for in the park – rufous, calliope, and broad-tailed. We saw a broad-tailed hummingbird on one of our road trips out West a few years ago and noted its loud sounds and fairly large size. The others would be new to us. So, thinking we wanted to get the early ones, I put up our feeder right after we moved in on May 7 and waited…and waited..and waited some more. Nothing showed up for the entire month of May and June and I was ruing the fact that we had almost no wildflowers on our new tiny lot to help bring in the hummingbirds..
Then, in early July, I saw a darting shadow – a hummingbird! Over the next several days we would see one bird every now and then. After careful observation we decided it must be a rufous hummingbird, either a female or immature male. We started seeing another one several days later. In late July, an adult male showed up and staked his claim to the feeder. At that point we decided one feeder was not enough with this diminutive bully in town.
An adult male rufous hummingbirds showing his stuff (click photos to enlarge)
We put up two more feeders, one on each side of the house, to make it easier for birds to avoid the aggressive male. Well, it turns out they are all aggressive, so there were constant battles. They all seemed to prefer the initial feeder so that is where all the action seemed to take place. As days passed, more and more birds showed up. We started looking hard for the other species and finally, one day, got a clear look at a noticeably smaller hummingbird. After finally getting a photo of one, we are pretty sure it was a calliope.
A calliope hummingbird at the feeder
Eventually we confirmed two calliopes and we think all the rest may have been rufous hummingbirds. Interestingly, the calliope hummingbirds were often left alone at the feeder for a bit while the rufous were still squabbling with each other. Calliope hummingbirds are the smallest hummingbird in North America and the smallest bird in the United States. They weigh about the same as a ping pong ball. And given their small size, they are considered the smallest long distance migrant in the bird world with migration distances of about 5000 miles each year between their breeding grounds in the Pacific Northwest and northern Rockies to their wintering grounds in southern Mexico. I’m hoping that we see an adult male next year as they are stunning with rays of magenta feathers on the gorget (throat) that he can extend outwards in displays.
Almost all of the hummingbirds at our feeders were rufous hummingbirds and most were either female or immature males. I saw two adult males over the course of the several weeks they were in the yard.
My first few photographs were taken late in the afternoon which meant I had mainly silhouettes due to the position of the feeder. I started going out early in the morning and sitting along the deck rail to photograph them in better light. These pix were taken with my 100-500 zoom telephoto and the images are cropped. It is definitely a challenge to get a decent photo of these aerial acrobats. I tried to get my shutter speed at around 1/8000 sec whenever possible to try to stop the wing action but even then there were some blurs. I used the mechanical shutter at the start with frame rates of 12 photos per second but found that by switching to the electronic shutter (20 frames per second) I was able to get many more keepers (but a lot more images to go through and delete when necessary).
A rufous hummingbird flying toward meI liked some of the images where part of the bird is hiddenThe many poses the camera can catch gave me a much greater appreciation for the dexterity. of these tiny dynamos. Identifying these fast flyers is difficult, especially for someone from the East when almost every hummingbird I ever saw on our yard was a single species, the ruby-throated hummingbird. SEEK (the nature identifying app) tells me this one is a broad-tailed hummingbird. Merlin (the bird ID app) is unsure and says either a rufous or a broad-tailed. If you have a good guess, let me know.
One of the behaviors I wanted to photograph was their intense mid-air battles. Everything I read said that rufous hummingbirds are one of the most aggressive species we have. Indeed, whenever there were two or more near a feeder they seemed to want to squabble. And their aerial squabbles are lightning fast. Here are a few I was lucky enough to capture.
They always fanned their tail and seemed to arch their bodies when confronting another birdJust like in combat aircraft duels it seems that coming from above is an advantageI don’t really know what was happening here. I suspect another bird is coming from outside the frame to the upper right and this upside down bird is bracing for impact
In early August things started heating up at the feeders, though the first feeder I had put out was still the favorite. In a matter of days, the numbers of hummingbirds went from 5 or 6 to 15 to 20 at a time at that feeder. This is probably due to migratory birds showing up. Rufous hummingbirds have a migration path that extends up the west coast and into Canada by May. They nest farther north than any other hummingbird. By mid-summer they start migrating south but take a route more through the Rocky Mountain states, especially the high mountain meadows with abundant wildflowers. There are records of them nesting in Yellowstone but I think most of the birds we were seeing were probably fall migrants. It was truly amazing for over a week in August when I was filling our feeders twice a day to feed the hordes of hummingbirds. I ordered a larger feeder to accommodate the hungry birds as we were scheduled to be away for a couple of days. But, it did not arrive until after we returned and the feeders were dry. After that, though we still had numerous birds at the feeders, it was not the frenzy we had seen earlier. Here’s an example of how crazy it was for over a week in August.
As we moved through August, the numbers of hummingbirds continued to drop and their visits to feeders came mainly early and late in the day. Not sure where they were during the middle of the day but I almost never saw one from about 9 a.m. until after 5 p.m.
The last hummingbird I remember seeing was during the first week of September (it is always harder for me to record the last time I see something rather than the first of the season).
Now that we have a better idea of what to expect I will be looking forward to the return of this avian acrobats. I am planting some more hummingbird attracting plants in the yard and will have 4 feeders up for next season. And I’ll definitely be watching for that male Calliope.
When you are where wild bears live you learn to pay attention to the rhythm of the land and yourself. Bears not only make the habitat rich, they enrich us just by being.
~Linda Jo Hunter
It is that time of year when the bears of Yellowstone are going into their hyperphagia phase which means they may eat and drink almost continuously for most of each day in preparation for hibernation. A bear may eat up to 22 hours per day, consuming upwards of 20,000 calories and gaining several pounds during that time. Because of this, they are on the move more searching for food and therefore may be more visible to visitors. That has certainly been the case for us these past couple of weeks. In our last post, I described the black bear sow and cub that came into several yards on our street. She also caused quite a stir a few days later when she looked into a window at the school in town causing a brief lock-down. The Bear Aware staff person came by the house this weekend to discuss our fencing and bear attracting fruit trees planted by the previous owner and he told me that, unfortunately, those two bears had been trapped and relocated due to their constant presence in town. I had worried about that and he did say that the state wildlife personnel hate taking a mother and cubs to a new location as it can be difficult for them to adjust. But they also can’t allow bears to start destroying property, etc. I’ll be taking down some trees and will remove the bird feeders for the Fall to try to help keep our local bears wild. They are definitely on the move looking for food wherever they can find it.
-Sadly, this sow and cub have been relocated due to their constant presence in town the past several weeks (click photos to enlarge)
All of that action happened while Melissa and her friends were on a backpacking trip for several days. The day she went to pick them up at the airport, I went out into the park and had a close encounter with a beautiful grizzly along the road in Lamar Valley. I was driving back toward home when I spotted a crowd watching a grizzly across the Lamar River. It was walking in the direction I was headed so once I got through the initial back-up of cars, I drove ahead and found a spot to safely pull off the road…and waited. The bear started to head away from the road but was clearly visible now and cars were starting to back up in both directions. A park ranger was on hand trying to keep traffic moving. There were no official pullouts nearby and I had grabbed one of the few places you could pull off the road. Several times the bear would start to walk away and then turn and walk back toward the road. Finally, it headed straight for where I was and walked along the shoreline a bit, looking at the crowd.
-The large grizzly known as the “Confluence bear” walking along the shore across the river
This bear as been called the Confluence bear because it is frequently seen along this section of river where Soda Butte Creek flows into the Lamar River (aka the Confluence). I was pleasantly surprised when it decided to cross the river just upriver from my parking spot. What a great view!
-Grizzly slowly wading across the Lamar River-The grizzly picked up a little speed as it neared the gravel bar on my side of the river-The grizzly walked back and forth on the gravel bar looking up at the road crowded with cars and people
The ranger was trying to clear a path for the bear by stopping some cars and having others drive through. But there were also a lot of people out of their cars alongside the road (which did not have much space before dropping off into the river). Another park staff person had a bullhorn telling people close to the gap to get back in their cars. I was far enough away at this point and was standing next to my car. I saw the bear finally cross between cars and head up the hill.
-The grizzly wandered about up the hill, looking around, and then headed back down in the general direction of my car.
A reminder that these photos are cropped images taken with my 500mm telephoto so it makes the bear look closer than it really was. The bear kept heading down toward me, stopping occasionally to voraciously eat in patches of chokecherry shrubs.
-The grizzly chowing down on chokecherries
After browsing on berries, the bear decided to head straight down the hill toward my parked car and a group of people stopped in the road and out of their cars. I opened my car door and started to get in when I heard a loud bang. The ranger had fired a so-called cracker shell which goes a short distance and makes a loud sound.
-The Confluence bear just before the cracker shell went off-The grizzly turned and ran up the hill, pausing just a second to look back down at the road before disappearing over the hill.
This bear is thought to be a male, not yet in his prime, but getting bigger every year. It certainly is a beautiful bear with luxurious fur. The bear jam started to break up after the bear went over the hill and I drove around the curve to a pullout figuring the bear might be visible as it went past the top of the hill. I waited and chatted with folks for 10 minutes or so. The same ranger drove by and asked if I had seen the bear again. I replied, “no bear”. and she continued on. I soon pulled out and headed down the road. At the next pullout I saw some folks looking up the slope and, sure enough, there was the bear far up the hill. I wasn’t sure how it had managed to get by us at that first spot but was glad it was just meandering and still eating berries. The bear turned and started heading back the way it had come and disappeared in a shallow swale. That was probably how we missed it, it traveled across the ridge line just hidden from view in the swale. I thought that this bear just might go back to where it had been so I drove back to my same parking spot off the road and waited. About a minute went by and there he was, walking below the ridge line and headed downward toward the same place where he had crossed the road earlier. I was the only person there but then a car coming towards me stopped in the road and people got out looking up at the bear. Soon, there was another bear jam, but this time with no ranger. The bear sat down above the spot where it had crossed before and looked at the people and cars below (and not that far below). The bear obviously wanted to cross the road.
-The Confluence bear looking at the crowd of people and cars and trying to figure out how to get across
I got out of my car and started trying to direct traffic to create a gap. Some people listened and moved but as I turned around to direct cars in the oncoming lane, more cars behind me repeatedly filled in the gap and people continued to get out of their cars blocking the road. After a few more attempts I frustratingly realized I didn’t have the right hat or a badge and just walked back to my car. As I passed one vehicle, a lady said “at least you tried”. I turned and the grizzly walked on around the curve still up on the hill. I guess it will figure it out or change directions. Luckily, it was getting late and that also helps break up wildlife jams along the roads.
The day after our guests arrived, we decided to take them out into the park for an evening of wildlife watching. We got into a couple of bison jams and saw some pronghorn and raptors. After we turned and started heading home, we suddenly saw a couple of black bears right next to the road (within 10 feet) chowing down on what turned out to be chokecherries, just like the grizzly I watched a couple of days before. They were on Melissa’s side of the car and she got this great video clip of the action. Note – I edited the audio after the adult bear makes some sounds to get rid of our excited laughter and talking.
There was one black cub and one cinnamon-colored cub with this female. That is not too unusual given the fact that about half the black bears in Yellowstone are actually cinnamon-colored or brown (which often makes it difficult for people to distinguish between them and a grizzly). I was turned around trying to shoot pix out the opposite side of the car (you can here my shutter in the start of that video) but after Melissa filmed the bears, the brown cub walked up the hill a little ways and turned and looked at us. I gave Melissa my camera and she got this incredible pic of this little cutie.
-The brown cub sat down on a rock outcrop and stared down at its mom and sibling still eating berries (photo by Melissa Dowland)
That was a great way to end our day and so we headed home. The next morning we went out early hoping to see wolves. Indeed, the Junction pack gave us a show of 14 members of the pack though it was viewed through our spotting scopes. at a great distance. We then headed east and encountered another black bear sow with cubs (this time with two black cubs) in almost the same spot as the ones the evening before.
-Another black bear with two black cubs (they were farther up the slope)
We headed back in the direction of home and about 10 minutes later we saw some stopped cars and as we drove through we spotted a grizzly out in the flats along Soda Butte Creek. We went through the bear jam and pulled off, got out and walked a little ways back along the road. The bear was again the Confluence bear and was headed towards the road. This location was maybe a quarter mile from where I had watched it a few days earlier. Looking at his path, I saw where I thought it might cross and turned in that direction, again warning people the bear was going to try to cross. An RV was stopped in the opposite lane and people were starting to walk by it where I though the bear might cross (it was not visible at the time due to a small ridge and swale). I cautioned folks to stop and stay close to the RV. Indeed, in just a few seconds the bear came up on the road at that point and sprinted across.
-The Confluence bear crossing the road again-The grizzly moving up the hill after crossing the road-The bear slowly walks up and over the hill
Another amazing encounter with a bear. These roadside events are great for observing the bears and getting photographs. When in the backcountry, it is a different situation and you want to be alert and prepared for any encounter and be sure you have your bear spray handy.. We now live in the land of bears. For us back in NC, we usually traveled to Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge for this powerful feeling. Now, it surrounds us, it humbles us, it even causes us to change our behavior and to be more wary when out on the landscape. But it also helps us feel alive knowing that these magnificent wild beings are our neighbors.
Here’s to a new home, new adventure, new memories.
~The Wilders
Life is different in our new home. We left behind our wildflower gardens, water gardens, and 14 acres of mature hardwoods and moved to a place with a lot of non-native plantings from the previous owner (including a lot of fruit-producing trees and shrubs) on a tiny lot that backs up to a cliff. It is a much drier place as well. We had two days of rain last week, a first of that duration since we moved in May, and recorded 0.85 inches of rain. That is by far the greatest amount we have seen in one event.
If you have followed this blog you know that I have several trail cameras that I set out in our woods in NC to record the happenings of our wild neighbors (wildlife neighbors, that is). I have posted many times on what the cameras saw – coyotes, deer, squirrel, bobcat, turkey, opossums, raccoons, and some birds including hawks and owls. After moving here, less than a mile outside Yellowstone National Park, I wondered what the cameras might see at the edge of town where we now live. I started out by setting 3 cameras around the walkways near the house and one up at the base of the cliff above the house.
The two current trail cameras are set at the far end of this gravel walkway next to the house and up the hill at the base of the cliff. Previous cameras were set next to the house in other locations and at one other spot at the base of the cliff.
The motivation for setting the cameras close to the house was the sudden cutting of many of our tomato plants a couple of weeks after we planted them in the fenced beds you see in the photo above. The previous owner had installed the pictured rabbit fencing along one side of the house and then had welded wire cages over a lot of plants both inside and out of the rabbit fencing to keep small animals and deer and elk from eating his plants. He also installed an electric fence along the back edge of the yard (where the hill starts to get steep going up to the cliff) as a large mammal deterrent. It all seemed to work well until the tomato plants were cut down. A trail camera video revealed the culprit to be a critter I was unfamiliar with – a bushy-tailed wood rat (aka pack rat). They are kind of cute but have the abilities and smarts of a raccoon combined with a tree squirrel. It is very difficult to keep them out of something once they get an interest in it.
NOTE: all videos are best viewed full screen with sound up.
Over the summer, the cameras captured many of the usual suspects over and over – mountain cottontails, various birds in the garden or at the very small water hole we created, our local cow elk browsing on the shrubs on the side of the house without the electric fence, mice, and lots of wood rats. The cameras at the base of the cliff have produced some good footage but are a pain since the wind that blows almost constantly here (especially during the day) causes the vegetation to move which triggers the cameras. I have to check them (now only one) every few days and even then, I often have a few hundred video clips to scroll through.
There have been some interesting and surprising stories recorded on the cameras thus far. Here are a few of the highlights from our first few months in our new place…
We get clips of raccoons several times a week, usually at the water hole where, being raccoons, they just can’t seem to help themselves as they explore in the water with their paws. Of course, they also often get a drink while there. But recently, we’ve caught two surprising incidents involving raccoons on that trail camera.
There are at least two raccoons that visit our place, one with a normal-looking tail like the one in the previous video, and this one, with a skinny tail. They visit so often that once I see it is a raccoon, I often quickly zoom through the video clip just to make sure nothing unusual happened. Last week, I caught the skinny-tailed raccoon on a couple of contiguous clips and noticed a small detail – the raccoon seemed to flinch a few times. I went back and looked again and was surprised at what I saw. See if you can tell what happened in the next two clips.
I zoomed in on another clip made right after the raccoon walked away (unfortunately, this makes the video a little more out of focus). But take a close look…
I encountered this small rattlesnake about a month ago at the water hole. I walked over to look at the water level and the snake moved its head a bit from its hiding place in the rocks. It quickly retreated into the rocks and I had not seen it again until these video clips. Ironically, this video was recorded about three days before some big wildlife events here in the neighborhood. A black bear sow and cub were reported walking around town about two weeks ago. The sow climbed a fence on our street and was hazed by the residents and took off up the hill with her cub. That same day, a neighbor called and asked if we could come over and remove a prairie rattlesnake in their yard (in a much earlier conversation we had volunteered to do that if they ever saw one). That was also a small rattlesnake which we safely relocated to nearby uninhabited land that provided suitable habitat. Was this the same one as in our yard? Not sure.
The wildlife encounters continued this past week. Melissa is off backpacking with some friends from NC so I am here by myself. One afternoon, I looked out the upstairs bathroom window and saw something dark sitting on the boulders in my neighbor’s back yard – a bear! I went out and found the sow and cub under their apple tree so I banged on the metal lid I had grabbed with a can of bear spray. The startled bears ran up a tree and stared at me. I backed away until they climbed down and then continued to haze them and they ran off, crawling underneath the electric fence that spans both of our back yards. Thirty minutes later they were back. Once again, I went out and hazed them until they ran off up the hill. I called our local Bear Awareness coordinator (yup, that’s a thing out here) and have set up an appointment for a site visit this weekend to review the electric fence and look at what trees might need to be removed (we have 3 apple trees on our property planted by the previous owner but they have not yet produced fruit). Bears are in their hyperphagia mode right now and are eating as much as possible before winter comes and they retreat into hibernation. Black bears are one thing to have, but the same attractants could also bring in a grizzly, and then you have an entirely different situation. So, the bird feeders have come down and I picked the fruit from our plum tree and the remaining few apples on the neighbor’s tree (with their permission). There is still a huge crab apple tree to deal with and that will probably need to get cut soon.
When I checked the trail cameras, I found evidence of the bears on that day at both cameras.
As I mentioned, this is but a small sample of what the cameras have captured since our arrival in May.. Once again, the trail cameras have proven invaluable in learning about what we have in terms of wild neighbors in our new surroundings. I haven’t seen the bears again for two days. Here’s hoping the bears head out of town and don’t get into any trouble. And I will be looking for the return of the skinny-tailed raccoon and wondering if it is okay after a possible rattlesnake bite.
Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.
~Henry David Thoreau
I was pretty good at identifying the common species of butterflies (in the Order Lepidoptera (which means scaly wings) back in NC although the skippers continued to baffle me at times. But now I must learn almost an entirely new set of the flying flowers. We don’t yet have a lot of Montana native wildflowers on our little lot but early on we were seeing a few species of butterflies flapping by the house. And that is exactly what they did – flapped by the house, most without even a brief stop for a photo or closer look. One of the first ones I noticed was a familiar-looking butterfly – a large yellow and black swallowtail, but which one? A tattered individual finally landed on a leaf in our yard one cool morning and a I snapped a couple of pics of a worn two-tailed swallowtail.
The aptly named two-tailed swallowtail reminds me of our yard in NC which would swarm with Eastern tiger swallowtails every few years. The host plants of this species include ash and chokecherry. (click photos to enlarge)
One day a very boldly-marked medium sized butterfly made an appearance in the yard. I grabbed my camera and snapped two photos before it flitted away.
A gorgeous Weidemeyer’s admiral taking a break in the yard
Weidemeyer’s admirals are related to the red-spotted purple butterflies we had back in NC. The caterpillars of both species resemble bird droppings.
We have an irrigation system for our few flower beds and when the soil is damp, it seems to attract some butterflies that may be looking for mineral salts. This beauty showed up one morning and I was lucky enough to get a good photo before it flew off.
A stunning checkerspot butterfly (I think it is either an Edith’s or Anicia’s checkerspot) dabbling in the moist soil of a flower bed in our yard.
My identification routine is to use two apps – SEEK and Leps, to try to identify. I then check my only field guide for this region – Butterflies of Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. After that, I submit the observation to iNaturalist and see if I can get any confirmation of my initial ID. Well, it seems as though these Western species may be a bit tougher than I’m used to and the apps often disagree or just aren’t sure. One reason is the large number of very similar-looking butterflies, especially the checkerspots and frittilaries. Here are some examples.
An Edith’s checkerspot on a trail near MammothA relict frittilary. Most of the frittilaries use violets as their host plants. This species apparently overwinters as a caterpillar.It seems some of the frittilaries are best identified by their underwings. iNaturalist tells me this one is a Mormon frittilaryThese butterflies were very abundant along a nearby Forest Service dirt road this week nectaring on the abundant rabbitbrush in bloom. I identified this one as a Zerene frittilary, but there are a couple of others it could be
I hope you see what I mean by all these look-alikes (at least to my untrained eye). I may be totally wrong but I am relying on iNaturalist primarily until a reviewer disagrees. If any of you know about these species and have a correction, please let me know in the comments.
Another brownish and patterned small butterfly – a field crescent I believe
I think this one is a Northern crescent
I have seen fewer skippers than I am use to back in NC. Those are the small, often cryptically colored little butterflies that zip around making it even tougher to ID them. They are distinguished from oter groups of butterflies by most having small hooked tips at the end of their antennae. I think I have seen three species of skipper here thus far and many of them have been the introduced Essex skipper which was very abundant earlier in the summer.
A dainty American branded skipper on rabbitbrush this past weekA mating pair of Essex skippersI saw another mated pair of butterflies, this time one of the frittilaries, but they were flying by (somewhat clumsily as you might imagine based on their positions) and finally dropped to the ground allowing this one photo.
Of course, with all that mating going on, there was also some egg laying. I saw this next species a few times doing the typical fluttery flight that females do when they are looking for a host plant. I followed this one around for several minutes as it landed and crawled on the ground. It occasionally assumed the egg laying position of a tucked abdomen. But I was confused as I didn’t see a living plant nearby (this was on a dry ridge at high elevation with sparse ground cover and scattered clumps of grasses). After much searching, I finally found an egg on a dried plant stem. It started me wondering if the egg is the overwintering stage. Back home, I looked up this species, the Rocky Mountain Parnassian, and found that my field guide stated that females lay a single egg “randomly” (another reference said she lays the eggs haphazardly). Further reading showed they lay on just about anything – rocks, leaf litter, twigs, and other plant species near their host plants. Their host plant is stonecrop, a low growing plant growing in dry open habitats. The eggs typically overwinter and the larvae hatch shortly after being exposed to warm temperatures in the spring. The caterpillars then crawl and locate a host plant.
A female lays an egg on a dry plant stemHere is a Rocky Mountain Parnassian caterpillar feeding on stonecrop (Sedum lanceolatum) in early June. The sedum dies back in winter and resprouts from its base the following spring.
There are a number of small-ish challenging butterflies that I have tried to photograph . The ones that have eluded me the most are a few (not sure if I am seeing multiple species or not) small white ones. I guess I will need to catch a few next summer to truly ID them. There is a local citizen science butterfly count each July organized by a nearby neighbor who is an excellent naturalist, author, and sculptor. I missed it this year since we were in the Tetons with family but I will definitely get it on my schedule next year to learn from some local experts.
A small blue butterfly was one of the first I tried to identify. I believe it is a Boisduval’s blue whose larvae feed on lupine.One of the clouded sulphurs, perhaps a pink-edged sulphur. This species blended into the bare soil extremely well, making it hard to track once it landed. This pic was taken in the Beartooth Mountains at an elevation of over 9000 feet. Caterpillars of this species with the unusual name, Chryxus Arctic, require two years to develop. Because of this, in many regions, you only see the adult butterflies every two years.I recognized this as some sort of satyr by its lilting flight and the drab coloration marked by distinctive eye spots on the hind wings. This is a small wood nymph, and several were out nectaring on the rabbitbrush this week.The thicket hairstreak spends most of its time high in the treetops and comes to the ground to nectar on flowers or dabble in moist soil (as this one was doing). The larval host plant is dwarf mistletoe which occurs on various species of conifers.The irregular wing outline identified this as one of the so-called anglewings, a favorite group of mine back in NC. This is a green comma and like its cousins in the East, it has a silvery white punctuation mark (a comma) on the underside of its wings.
While hiking in the Beartooths back in July, I spied this next beautiful butterfly flitting about at the base of a talus slope. It kept flying away from me so I gave the camera to Melissa who was closer to where it was nectaring. She got this great shot of one of the most beautiful species we have seen in Montana, a Milbert’s tortoiseshell.
Its genus name, Aglais, is from from the Greek name, Aglaia, which means “splendor,” “brilliance,” or “beautiful”. They overwinter as adults so may be seen on any warm days throughout the year. Milbert’s tortoiseshells are thought to undergo seasonal elevational migrations, spending summers at higher elevations. Females lay clusters of eggs (up to several hundred) on the underside of the host plant (mainly stinging nettles). (photo by Melissa Dowland)
I continue to stalk insects and spiders on every walk we do, grabbing a few pics and posting to iNaturalist. Hopefully, by next summer I’ll have a greater knowledge and appreciation for the many invertebrates we have as neighbors in our new surroundings. I encourage you to get out and learn about your wild neighbors, especially the small ones. They are the backbone of the natural world we live in and the more you learn, the more you will want to preserve them and their habitats.
The presence of a single bird can change everything for one who appreciates them.
~Julie Zickefoose
In her last post about our canoe camping trip to Shoshone Lake, Melissa mentioned how we enjoyed watching the common mergansers swim by our campsite. They were our companions over much of the 5 days on the water, both in the 3-mile stretch of the Lewis Channel and at our various campsites on the lake. But before sharing some merganser magic, I should say we did see some other species along the way. Our first birds were three white pelicans that drifted in over Lewis Lake as we paddled and then settled not far away as we made it to the northern shore.
Three white pelicans swimming in Lewis Lake (click photos to enlarge)
On entering the Lewis Channel we came across a calm stretch with lily pads and a conifer full of small birds – mountain chickadees, Audubon’s warblers, and a couple of Wilson’s warblers. After trying for several minutes, I finally managed a pic of a Wilson’s in its brief appearance in the sun.
This Wilson’s warbler finaly came out into the open for a quick photo
A little further up the channel, a pair of elegant trumpeter swans graced the still waters in a marshy bay.
A pair of trumpeter swans eye us as we paddle past in Lewis Channel
We soon had our first encounter with a merganser – a single bird placidly gliding near the shore of the channel, its bold feather pattern artistically reflected in the calm clear water.
An immature common merganser drifts by in the calm waters of Lewis Channel
Then a group of merganser young led by a female swam by in formation. Somewhat surprisingly, common mergansers usually nest in hollow trees and only occasionally in crevices on rocky ledges. The young hatch in early summer. You may see females with large numbers of young trailing behind (records of up to 40+) . This is called brood amalgamation and is well documented in this species. Some suggest that aggressive females “kidnap” young from inexperienced mothers or that it may just be a case of confused young following the wrong female.
A female merganser leads her group of young downstream as we paddle past
We saw many of the mergansers resting on shore as we paddled. They are built more for water than land with their legs placed well back on their bodies, but they seem to enjoy soaking up the sun on a sandy beach as much as the rest of us. This group eyed us as we paddled by and then decided to move on.
A group of common mergansers resting on a sand bar
As we got alongside, the female must have signaled it was time to go and they all stood up, stretched, and waddled into the water.
As we pass, the group performs some marganser yoga and moves to the water
The name merganser is from Latin and roughly translates to “diving goose”, an appropriate moniker for the largest of our three related diving ducks (the others being the hooded merganser and the red-breasted merganser). Other common names include sheldrake, sawbills, fish ducks, and goosanders. They mainly eat fish though we observed them picking off a few aquatic insects on the water surface. I love their hunting style of snorkeling along, eyes underwater, searching for prey. They often hunt in groups making it easier to herd and trap fish.
A merganser with head down, snorkeling and searching for pry in the clear waters
They were a frequent visitor as we sat on the shore at our various campsites, swimming by and searching for fish with their heads down in the water. We saw them most often early and late in the day. In breeding plumage, males are a striking combination of a dark green head and mostly bright white body with a red bill. This time of year they have molted and resemble females.
This merganser was a bit offshore in about 5 feet of water when it dove and came up with a squirming meal
Common mergansers are well adapted to catching fish – they have a long pointed bill with serrations along the edges and a hooked tip, both features that are ideal for holding onto a slippery prey. They are considered the carnivores of the duck world and are fast swimmers underwater. We often saw them scurrying across the water, heads under, as they tried for fish in some of their favorite fishing spots. They often hunted at the same locations as they swam back and forth, usually where a small stream entered the lake or some logs stretched into the water from the shore. These are undoubtedly places where small fish gather for food and/or shelter.
A close look at the fish-snatching bill of a merganser
Each day we looked forward to the mergansers swimming by our campsite. They frequently swam directly toward us as they hunted. and seemed to accept us as long as we sat still. Time spent with the mergansers of Shoshone gave me a new appreciation for this species and of their world of cold clear mountain waters.
Last weekend we took a long awaited canoe-camping trip to Shoshone Lake in the southern part of Yellowstone. It’s touted as the largest backcountry lake in the lower 48 states. It can only be reached by foot or non-motorized boat. We chose that route: a paddle across Lewis Lake then up the three mile long Lewis Channel. The final 3/4 mile or more of the channel is shallow and rocky, and we had to drag the canoe through that section, especially with the low water levels of late summer. Nonetheless, the entire paddle was beautiful, and the serenity of spending four nights far from cars, computers, and civilization gave us a chance to quietly reflect.
Mary Oliver writes in her poem Spring, “There is only one question: how to love this world.” She writes of a black bear sow, just emerged from her den, hungry. Perhaps it is a young female; otherwise she would likely have cubs with her. I can perfectly imagine her dark frame, like the bears we’ve watched in eastern North Carolina or here in Yellowstone. She is silent, the signs of her presence are “flicking the gravel,” claw marks on trees, the ripples her “tongue / like red fire” leave on the cold water. In her “wordlessness” is “her perfect love” for this world.
The fading sunlight glints on wind-stirred water, a beautiful first evening.
As we paddle across Lewis Lake just after daybreak, the winds begin to give rise to the day’s waves. The water is crystal clear, and the underwater world seems accessible in a way it’s not most of the time. I am mesmerized by the ribbons of light moving across the lake bottom — light from the rising sun shattered by the waves, reflecting on the sand and rock. The patterns dance as I expect the northern lights do, never repeating, but without any sharp angles. Sinuous and loose. Golden light on the sandy bottom is shaded green by the water above. The shadow of our boat and the rhythm of our strokes both obscure and shape the light.
Droplets of water edge each barb of the swan’s feather.
In the Lewis Channel the air sits still. A single white feather slides across the glassy surface. Below, a black sandy bottom dotted with broken twigs. As we glide closer, a third view appears — the reflection of spruce and fir trees, dark angles cutting the glare of reflected sky. White feather, black sand, white sky, black trees. Around the corner, the trumpeter swan pair waits, still and elegant as we silently pass.
The rolling storm spreads over our campsite in the southwest corner of the lake.
Dark clouds from the southwest stretch across the lake. They curl toward the northern shore, sweeping the sky. Below, a glimmer of golden late day light casts a glow across the green trees, black sand, bleached wood of downed trees. Lightening flickers in the distance. In the center, a white glow, as if the storm has a heart of ice.
A family of mergansers swims toward our canoe in the Lewis Channel.
In the late afternoon light a merganser passes by, again and again. Its vivid orange legs, perfectly matched to its bill, push it confidently through the water in spite of our presence on the beach. Head down, bill in water, snorkeling for prey. Head up, catching breath. Light glints on the water droplets in its crazy headdress, a spike of rusty feathers. A dive, a wing flap, rising off the surface to show a brilliant white belly, a flash of white on moving wings. A deep cluck in its throat; just the one note, repeated.
In the saturated banks of a spring-fed stream, just beyond the lake’s sandy beach, marsh grass-of-parnassus grows, relative to a favorite wildflower found in the mountains of North Carolina, but with delicate feathery edges its eastern cousin lacks. Nearby, an entirely unexpected discovery — sundews grow thick amidst vivid green moss and the boggy stream’s surface is covered in the thin tendril-like leaves and dark pockets of bladderwort. Carnivorous plants in Yellowstone!
There’s nothing quite like a dip in cold water after many days in the wilderness. The temperature is a shock, even mildly painful if its frigid enough, causing a sharp inhale of breath as my I submerge my head and shoulders. But almost the moment I emerge, sun on cold skin, there’s a sensation of comfortable, tingling warmth. It’s a freshness quite unlike anything else, and I am more at home in my own skin than at any other time.
A lush march rims the western end of the lake
Midges floating above the still water look like diamond dust… but slightly more purposeful in their movement. Or like cottonwood seeds swirling in the breeze. The glassy lake surface is dotted with even more, like the first dusting of snow on frozen ground. Their tiny bodies are no larger than the tip of my pen, with just a hint of softness near the head: their feathery antennae. My mom wouldn’t tolerate their abundance well, and it is somewhat unsettling when one or two get a little to close to being inhaled. But their numbers are like a tiny miracle, a natural spectacle on a minute scale.
As darkness falls, the sky comes alive with the light of thousands of stars.
How do I love this world? I love this world most in places of solitude, quiet, beauty. When I am deep in it. When life is simplified to what fits in my boat or on my back. When I have time to sit in my hammock on a hillside, the sound of waves lapping a rocky beach, the sigh of the wind stirring lodgepole pine and subalpine fir needles, a view to distant hills above dark water when I lift my eyes from the page. And perhaps, somewhere nearby but out of sight, a silent black bear prepares herself for her winter slumber.
I’m going to try to catch up on some of the many cool things we have witnessed in recent weeks as we travel to learn about our new surroundings. Melissa’s parents visited back in July and one thing they wanted to see was a moose, arguably one of the more difficult creatures to find in Yellowstone. And, indeed, we did not find a moose here in spite of our travels up through the northeast entrance, usually the best place in Yellowstone to locate the largest member of the deer family. But, her parents also wanted to visit Grand Teton National Park during their stay, and that location offers you a much better chance of finding a moose. Yellowstone is estimated to have fewer than 200 moose whereas Grand Teton’s moose population is closer to 500 animals. And to further prove that areas’ moosiness, there is even an unincorporated community named Moose within the park.
Oxbow Bend in Grand Teton National Park (a very moosey place) (click photos to enlarge)
So, off we went to the Tetons for a couple of days and, sure enough, we spotted a cow and calf moose high on a meadow from the road at a place called….Moose Junction. They were pretty far away but we got out and looked for a bit and then headed on, hoping to get a closer look at another moose and perhaps even a large bull. Driving the Moose-Wilson Road produced no results but in a discussion with another visitor we learned his family had seen a large bull moose on a campground road the evening before and it had supposedly been hanging out in that area for a few days. That set our agenda for the final day in the park. We drove to that area late in the day and soon spotted a few cars pulled off on the side along the river. And there it was, a moose, and a nice bull at that!
Our bull moose across the river in Grand Teton National Park. This is the view with my 500mm telephoto.
The moose’ antlers stood above the riparian shrubs, but the bulk of the animal was hidden as it browsed in the thick vegetation. It started moving and suddenly stepped out into the open.
This large bull moose had an impressive set of antlers, still covered in velvet
We shared our scope with some bystanders and loved hearing the oohs and aahs as they got a closer look at this beautiful beast. Melissa had recently figured out a good solution for a phone adapter for her scope and started filming the moose as it fed. We switched to my phone so I could get a few clips and I was very impressed by the quality of the images, even in the low light of late evening.
By this time, we had a few mosquitoes making an appearance but when I looked at the footage later I could see a cloud of insects around the moose. Not sure if he was being sucked dry or whether there was some sort of hatch of aquatic insects happening.
The other thing I noticed was his impressive dewlap (also called a bell). Many animals from birds to lizards have this anatomical structure which is defined as “a fold of loose skin hanging from the neck or throat of an animal”. The purpose varies according to species. In Carolina anoles (I miss those little green lizards that frequented our yard in NC), the males have an impressive extendable pink dewlap that they show during courtship rituals and territorial disputes. In some birds, the dewlaps (often called wattles in birds) may help with thermoregulation and sexual displays.
The function of a dewlap in moose is uncertain, but it seems like a nice addition to the overall look of a beast that has an unusual appearance to begin with
Studies of the dewlap in moose have been inconclusive as to its exact function. Perhaps a dangling flap of skin may help in thermoregulation by dissipating heat from this extra surface area of vascularized skin. Or, it may serve some function in communication. Bull moose tend to rub their dewlap on females during courtship perhaps transferring scent to them. The size and shape of a dewlap may also indicate something of the health of a bull and give a cue to females of his worthiness and to rival males of his potential dominance. Then again, it may be some sort of vestigial anatomical feature that has lost all or most of its original function over evolutionary time. I suppose only the moose knows for sure. At the very least, it is a fun word to have around when discussing one of our most impressive large mammals.
I’ve been longing to get out camping since we arrived in Montana in early May. First, there was unpacking and house projects, then there were my teacher workshop and family visits, then some concerns about what seems to be a particularly explosive mosquito population this year… but finally, last week, we made it out to spend a couple nights camping in the Beartooth Mountains to the northeast of Yellowstone. We’ve visited the Beartooths many times before, typically in June with groups. At over 10,000 feet in elevation, spring comes late in the Beartooths. On previous June visits, we typically ran into tall walls of snow on the roadsides and muddy meadows just starting to sprout spring beauties. But come July, the harsh colors of June melt into vibrant greens dotted with a rainbow of wildflowers. As we roll into August, even the high elevations are starting to dry out, though more green remains in the Beartooths than at home in the Gardiner Basin, especially in wetland areas, which are numerous.
The view from our campsite across the Chain Lakes
On a visit to the area with a friend from Raleigh a week before our camping trip, we took a spin down a dirt road that I’d been eyeing for a while. I love exploring the back roads in our national forests, and this one did not disappoint. There were lots of excellent camping spots with stunning views of the plateau, dotted with lakes and granite outcroppings reminiscent of the Sierras. So, when we had a few empty days last week, we headed back.
A different perspective from our campsite that shows the scattered granite boulders dropped by glaciers and the slopes of the high plateau in the background. The famous Beartooth highway climbs the hills in the left of the picture; we could hear the Harleys on the road when the wind quieted. Photo by Mike Dunn.
We spent most of our time enjoying our campsite and hiking through the adjoining meadows, learning new species of wildflowers and looking for wildlife. The most abundant critters were white-crowned sparrows and American pipits, the sparrows alighting on the small lodgepole and whitebark pine trees that crowned our hilltop, and the pipits favoring the ubiquitous boulders dotting the meadows. We spotted a marmot or two, unsurprising given their affinity for rocky burrows. And we saw quite a few insects, including a few more mosquitoes than we’d like, but also numerous bumblebees.
We recently took a workshop to learn how to contribute data to the Montana Bumblebee Atlas, so we were particularly drawn to observing these neighbors. Apparently, they do well in montane climates because, unlike most other insects, they can shiver to produce their own heat. We’re hoping to head back to the Beartooths tomorrow to do our first bumblebee survey!
A bumblebee gathering pollen on arnica. There are many bumblebee species in the area, many of which are very hard to distinguish, so Mike has signed us up for a bumblebee ID workshop later this week. This is what naturalists do for fun… Photo by Mike Dunn.
The wildlife highlights of our trip, however, happened after we packed up camp and headed out. We decided to head up towards the top of the Beartooth Pass before driving home in the hopes of catching sight of a mountain goat and with the intention of “sitting for pika” (an activity where you find a rock field, pick a boulder, and sit for a while, hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of a pika running between the rocks).
We were in luck! As we rounded one of the last switchbacks before the summit at a spot we’ve stopped many times before (folks who’ve been on a Yellowstone Institute trip with us will know the pullout!), Mike caught a quick glimpse of goats above the road. I swung the truck into the last bit of the pullout, and we grabbed our cameras and headed up the hill. The herd of goats were bedded down near the edge of a cliff. We approached slowly, not close enough to shift their behavior, and grabbed patches of scratchy mountain grass to sit on and watch them. The nearest goat in the group was a male (called a billy) with some nannies and kids (yup, that’s what they’re called!) below and behind his position.
Mountain goat male rubbing his face on a rock, taken with a telephone lens and cropped.
The billy was sprawled out in a particularly photogenic spot, chewing his cud with eyelids drooping. After a while, he perked up and started rubbing his face on the rock next to him. I couldn’t tell if he was scratching, licking for minerals or salt, or maybe eating lichen. After the goats had moved on, I walked over to his rock to see if there was any sign that would help me solve the mystery of his behavior. There was a bit of crustose lichen growing on it, but not enough that it seems like a food source, so I think it may just have been scratching.
One of the nannies heading up the hill as the billy stood watch.
After quite a while, the billy stretched out and got to his feet. He took a few steps in our direction before the rest of the herd arose and began moving uphill. About four or five adults and three kids moved past him and began scrambling up the rocks toward the summit. After they all passed, he took a moment seemingly to survey his mountain domain, then followed them. It was a magical moment!
Mountain goat kid scales a talus slope
It’s amazing to watch mountain goats move with grace over talus slopes. Seeing them on cliffs from a distance has given me an appreciation for their ability to navigate impossible-looking terrain. But at close range, they seem to almost float across a landscape that makes me choose every step incredibly carefully and move slower than a caterpillar! The kids seemed to hesitate now and again, like the little guy pictured above. But their flexible and grippy two-toed hooves give them stability and allow them to make these mountains their home.
Rocky Mountain goats are actually an introduced species in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem. They are native to the Rocky Mountains in Canada and Alaska, ranging down to Washington, Oregon, and Idaho, and into western Montana, but not as far south and east at Yellowstone and the Beartooths. There are some concerns that they will take habitat niches used by bighorn sheep and that they may impact fragile alpine ecosystems in the area with their grazing.
Once the goats disappeared over the mountainside, we turned our attention to pika. We’d heard a few of their “eeep” alarm calls as we watched the goats, so we knew they were in the area. I waded (much more slowly than a goat) out onto the talus and found a somewhat-comfortable rock to perch on. After a few minutes of quiet sitting, I saw my first pika! It had a mouthful of grass that it was carrying to its haystack. Pikas do not hibernate, so they busily spend the summer months collecting and stashing plants in piles tucked under and around rocks, where they dry into a food source to last through the long winter.
Pika with plants to add to its haystack for winter consumption
After watching a couple pikas with grasses head behind a notable pink boulder with plants and then depart empty-mouthed, I got up and slowly made my way in that direction. Soon enough, I spotted the pikas’ haystack in the rocks. It was a lot more extensive than I realized, extending under multiple boulders covering an area that was probably at least a square meter or two. I backed away to a spot where I wouldn’t disturb the busy critters and found another not-quite-comfortable rock to wait on.
While waiting for the pikas to reappear, I got distracted by a different type of critter nearby. There were numerous orb-type spiderwebs strung around and between the rocks. At first, I thought the spiders were extra hairy and speculated that maybe that was an adaptation for the cold montane climate. But on closer inspection, I realized that their webs had additional silk in the center (where most of the spiders were sitting), somewhat similar to the stablimenta woven by Argiope garden spiders back east, though significantly smaller.
This lucky spider had caught a meal.
But back to the pikas… By softening your vision and not focusing on anything around you, your eye will catch movement in the environment; this is sometimes referred to as “splatter vision”. Using this technique, I was able to spot a pika out gathering grass and track its progress between rocks as it returned to add to the cache. After stashing its bounty, it headed back out for more.
Pika heading back out to the edge of the boulder field. Note a portion of the haystack in the rocks beneath it.
Though you might assume pikas are rodents given their size and behavior, they are actually relatives of rabbits. They cannot tolerate temperatures above the high 70s for extended periods of time, and they rely on snowpack in the winter for insulation since they remain active year round. Both of those factors have made them something of a poster child for climate change. As winter snowpack decreases, pika may struggle to survive winters. And if you live at the top of a mountain, you can’t go higher up to escape hotter summer weather. Perhaps even more of an issue is that populations will become more isolated as corridors where they might once have been able to move between high elevations become too hot for them to travel. Fortunately, these cuties in the Beartooths seem to be thriving for now.
It’s hard to believe we have been in our new home now almost three months. Though we have been busy with numerous home projects and family visits, we have managed to get out into the park a few times to enjoy seeing some of the amazing scenery and wildlife that Yellowstone offers. One of the big draws here for wildlife watchers is the presence of several packs of wolves with territories inside the park including a few in the northern range near where we live. Drive through the park on any day and you may see a group of cars lining the road (or, unfortunately, stopped in the middle of the road) and you are right to assume there is some sort of interesting wildlife that has been spotted off the road (or perhaps a bison or two just walking in the middle of the pavement). These congregations of wildlife watchers are known as “jams”.
Wolf jam in Hayden Valley (click photos to enlarge)
While we love seeing what has caused these jams, we really prefer to have solo experiences with wildlife so we can really observe the animal’s behavior without the noise and occasional chaos that often accompanies wildlife watching from a roadway. That is one reason we like to get out of the car and hike. You often don’t need to go far to escape the crowds and you never know what you might see. Such was the case a couple of days before the latest family visit when we took a short hike in the Pelican Creek area near Yellowstone Lake. The first part of the hike took us through a small lodgepole pine forest but we eventually reached the opening we were seeking – a wide view of the creek flowing through marshy meadows and rolling hills of sagebrush, grasses, and wildflowers. Earlier, we had passed another hiker heading back to the parking area and when I asked if he had seen anything, he replied “no, just a few bison”.
We moved to a high knoll with an expansive view of the valley before us. A few bison were scattered across the landscape and butterflies fitted around us as a gentle breeze was blowing. Suddenly, we both heard it – a faint sound, a wolf howl. Melissa quickly spotted something moving about 1/4 mile away down the valley. A wolf! There is special excitement when you see “your own” wolf…no crowds, no car noise, just you in a wild place with a wild being.
Lone wolf coming down the valley (can you see it above the bison?)
We watched as the wolf trotted along, occasionally stopping to look behind it. It let out a mournful howl a couple more times as it moved past us, crossed the creek, and eventually ended up bedding down on a hilltop farther up the creek valley.
Wolf crossing the creek in Pelican ValleyThe wolf looking back (this is a heavily cropped image from my telephoto lens)
As we started to get up to leave, Melissa saw a dark spot way down the valley. We put our binoculars on it and it was a large grizzly coming out into a meadow about a mile away. Sharing a few moments with a wolf and a grizzly was the perfect ending to a hike in Yellowstone.
Though we love seeing wolves, our enthusiasm and effort pales in comparison to a truly dedicated group of wolf watchers that go out daily to observe and record the behavior of the wolves. Some of that information is compiled into a daily summary called Yellowstone Reports. There is a nominal fee to subscribe to this overview of wolf activity and I read it every morning to learn what others have observed. Several of the reporters also highlight other interesting wildlife sightings each day giving us a quick overview of where certain wildlife activity is in the park. A couple of weeks ago one of the reports mentioned that there were three bison carcasses in Lamar Valley which is somewhat unusual. One had been taken down by the Junction Butte wolf pack but observers were uncertain what had killed the other two. When Melissa’s parents came to visit that week, we decided to head out to see if the carcasses might draw in other wildlife.
Entering Lamar the next morning, we came to a large wildlife jam that turned out to be a cinnamon-colored black bear feeding on one of the carcasses. Observers shared that several wolves had been on it earlier that morning. Dang it, you often learn the hard way of the benefits of foregoing sleep to get to Lamar at sunrise…oh well. We could see another bison carcass out near the river but visitors had said very little was feeding on this one. We didn’t see the reported third carcass as we went on through the valley and exited the northeast entrance. We continued on up the Beartooth Highway where the clouds, mountains, and flowers were glorious.
The unusual purplish flowers of elephant’s head stand out in a high meadow in the Beartooths
Later in the day we headed back to Lamar after a nice dinner in Cooke City. A red fox greeted us along the road soon after we entered the park. As we pulled into Lamar proper, a distinctive coyote was spotted right next to the road. It was the well-known coyote called limpy (some call it tripod) as it has an injured right hind leg. This coyote has been around for several years in this part of Lamar but seems to do very well in spite of its disability. We saw it give chase to something in the sagebrush but it came up short.
The coyote they call “limpy” in Lamar
We soon arrived at another wildlife jam. As we slowly passed through the cars and people, someone told us there was a carcass just down over the hill, barely visible from the road and much closer than the other carcasses we had seen. This was the third carcass we had missed earlier in the day. As we continued on, Melissa spotted a black wolf down in the flats potentially headed toward that carcass. So, we turned around and miraculously found a parking space in what was soon to become a massive wolf jam.
A black wolf feeding at a bison carcass
This uncollared black wolf fed at the carcass for several minutes. Through our scopes we could see it tearing chunks of meat and gulping them down. Soon, it stood up and trotted back the way it had come, disappearing behind the crest of the close hill. We figured it was going back to the den area and would stay hidden below the ridge line as long as it could so we drove down to the low pullout nearest the river. I was anticipating the wolf would come into view down by the river. There was a small small group of folks gathered at the pullout, many of whom had no idea a wold was heading our way. I got out of the car and was standing next to the log rail that forms a barrier for cars at this location. Suddenly, I saw the wolf trotting up over the hill just to the left of us. Instead of being down below us along the river, it was close and coming straight at us. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as the wolf looked directly at me, its piercing golden eyes seemingly jumping from the surrounding black fur. The wolf stopped for a moment, perhaps assessing its situation, before just continuing on along its path at a trot right in front of us. I had stepped back from the railing but when it passed, it was probably no more than 30 feet away.
The gaze of a black wolf…
A little background here about wolf color – about half of the wolves in Yellowstone are black, the others gray to tan in color. The black color is believed to have originated from breeding with dogs thousands of years ago. This genetic variant also gives black wolves a slight advantage when it comes to surviving canine distemper virus outbreaks. Studies have shown there are more black wolves in areas that have more frequent outbreaks of this deadly canine disease. Scientists also found that gray-colored wolves tend to be more aggressive giving them a survival advantage in battles with other wolves and an overall more successful rate of reproduction. And other data shows there is a tendency for wolves of different colors to choose each other as mates which may help boost resistance of the pups to canine distemper virus and lead to more successful reproduction.
This male black wolf has a distinctive white blaze on its chest and is well-known among the wolf watchers
After going by our pullout, the wolf headed up towards the road and paused to look at the gathering crowd of cars and people. People were mostly respectful and only one car passed through and then stopped short when it must have seen the wolf right next to the road. After that car stopped, the wolf crossed in front of it and hurried up the hill towards where other wolves form its pack were no doubt waiting for some food.
The wolf navigated the crowds, crossed the road, and headed back to its pack
After the wolf disappeared, the group at the pullout was overjoyed and frankly stunned with what we had witnessed. I have never had an experience with wildlife to equal that. Looking into the eyes of a wild wolf is a powerful thing. It pulls at your soul and when it is over you feel privileged to have been a part of it. I wasn’t concerned for myself as the wolf trotted by but later felt a sadness for the wolf having to navigate the hoards of people (including us). I do worry that the wolf’s apparent lack of concern over the people being so close may lead to its demise if and when it leaves the safety of the park. So, in the end, it was an experience of mixed emotions – surprise, awe, and some sadness and worry for this majestic animal and its kind.
While we all talked and relived that magical moment, a young man from England alerted us to another wolf across the valley. This one was a collared wolf. I believe it was the female wolf known as 1479F. She trotted along a ridge line and then stopped, looked uphill for a few minutes and then laid down.
A collared wolf of the Junction Butte pack across the valley
We soon saw the object of her attention – 4 other wolves coming down slope into the river valley. There were three black wolves and one gray trotting along interacting with one another.
More menbers of the Junction Butte pack head toward a bison carcass in the valley
After watching this show for several more minutes and sharing our scopes with various very excited people, we decided to head towards home as it was getting dark. On the drive back we all reflected on how lucky we were to have been in that spot at that time to experience such a moment. As the Barry Lopez quote above implies, the gaze of a wild wolf does change you by touching your soul and making you feel more connected to this vast wild landscape.
Roads End Naturalist 