A Desire for Wolves: Yellowstone, Part 3

Wolf watchers at Slough Creek, Yellowstone NP

August 28-29 

I greatly desired to see wild wolves. My friend Lilian, my mentor on all things Yellowstone, had been the supremely fortunate recipient of the experience of watching (and photographing) a pack of wolves hunt and kill an elk in the Lamar Valley. Upon hearing her telling of it, my heart simultaneously leapt that such an event could still unfold before the eyes of humans, and pulsed green at the sheer rarity of it and the luck involved in being there. What I learned in Yellowstone in my quest for wolves, was that a little help from others goes a long way toward making the seemingly impossible, possible. Now before you get too excited, I did not witness an elk kill. But, by the end of my three day search, in the final hour, I found my wolves and felt the voice of the wild sing through my bones.

There are rules for seeing wolves in Yellowstone. The primary among these goes against the core of my beliefs and feelings about viewing wildlife. My emotional attachment to the opposition of this rule would have ultimately derailed my entire experience and I'd likely have gone home unsatisfied. You see, I want with all of my being, to avoid this:

Not my photo (Rich Landers Photos)

And when it comes to finding wolves, If you are lacking expertise and a radio antenna, this is exactly the trail sign you must follow.

My first day of dedicated wolf hunting began early. My advance research had been minimal, but I knew some key things: the wolves were most visibly active at dawn and dusk, and I had a list of locations where they might be seen. I was also aware that I needed to look for spotting scopes and telemetry antennas---maybe that goes without saying given my professional history---but I was not thinking at the appropriate scale. I made a pass west from my campground at Pebble Creek towards Tower Junction (in purple, map). In passing Slough Creek I see a massive parking jam, filling the parking lot and overflowing onto the road. "Yikes, that's a popular trail!" I said to Harry with a shiver as I gave Pagoo some extra gas to get by. I turned back to the east at Tower Junction, passing the Slough Creek circus again with a glance of disdain. You probably get where this is going.

I end up nearly back at my point of origin when a perfect fit for my search image connects with my eyeballs: a lone man in a ranger green jacket with an antenna. Score! I pulled over next to his vehicle and briefly wrestled with a moral dilemma. Those who have known me for the last decade or have ever tracked wild sea otters in California can imagine my predicament. Do I really have to pull my truck up next to this guy, tap him on the shoulder and ask him what he's tracking? Is there some kind of karmic punishment at work here for 13 years worth of resentment of public intrusion on my workspace? It was agony, but I got out of my truck and approached him. 

"Do you know where I might have a chance to see wolves?"

"Yes. The pack has been active at Slough Creek all morning..."

Dammit.

As it turns out, I had hit the wolf expert jackpot. I had found Rick McIntyre, a biologist with Yellowstone's Wolf Project who had been working with the wolves since the inception of the reintroduction that took place in 1996. To add to my karmic spanking, he was genuinely nice and helpful, and seemed unbothered by my intrusion.

"I passed by there because I wanted to avoid the crowds."

"The crowds follow the wolves, so I suggest an alternative strategy."

Dammit. 

By this time it was late morning. Rick confirmed that there was little chance of a wolf sighting until they became active again at dusk, readying for the night's hunt. So Harry and I pursued the other denizens of the Lamar Valley through the afternoon, then, as dusk and the wolfen hour approached, parked Pagoo in the now empty parking lot of Slough Creek and waited.

It wasn't long before a man with a spotting scope made his way up the path to one of the lookout spots. I was just grabbing my binoculars to follow him when he excitedly gestured for me to come up. I paused for just a second---this guy didn't know me, was it that obvious what I was waiting for?
But as I approached he uttered the magic words: "I think I have a wolf here!" And this is how I met Dennis Rowe, wolf lover, seasoned Yellowstone devotee and my guiding angel of wolf discovery. For quite a while, it was just Dennis and me at Slough Creek staring intently through his spotting scope (Yes, he joyfully offered his scope to me) at a black blob that we hoped was a wolf with a radio collar. He was just explaining how difficult it could be to see the grey wolves as they are so well camouflaged, when a brown patch of dirt next to the black blob rolled over and stretched it's long legs in the air. I happened to be hogging the scope at the time (really wishing for a Questar) and I yelled "A grey one! A grey one just rolled over!"  The candidate for black wolf then lifted his head and stretched his collared neck out long. I'd seen my first wild wolves.

My best wolf picture (don't laugh). If you zoom in
you can see the black outline of a bedded wolf at the center in the flatlands

Shortly after the excitement of the grey wolf roll, the crowd, drawn by the sight of a spotting scope on the ridge, began to gather. Dennis gave each one a look through his scope and a run down of all the wolf activity for the day. He has been journeying to Yellowstone from his home in Colorado several times each year for 15 years. It is a pilgrimage rooted in his passion for fishing the park's great rivers, but it became a love affair with wolves--and not just the wolves themselves, but the process of sharing them with others. Dennis is admirably generous with his knowledge, scope and wildlife stories. You can read his journal blog about his days in Yellowstone here. 

And so a bit of a wolf party grew. Not much was happening with the wolves but the party on the ridge was rockin'! We moved from one location to another to check for activity in another pack (the Lamar Valley pack near Soda Butte) and quickly another wolf hungry entourage built up around us. 

Dennis Rowe points to where the wolves were seen the
day before to a wolf seeking visitor.

We waited until dark for the Lamar Canyon alpha pair (with their seven pups) to make an appearance at their rendezvous spot---the site where the pups and adults meet after hunts once the birthing den has been abandoned. I returned to my campsite wondering if that rolling grey wolf was the only I'd ever see. That night, tucked into Pagoo's cocoon, I dreamed of wolves and elk playing out their ancestral battle at the margins of that silver river.

Irish Elk Pursued by Dire Wolves by Zdenek Burian

On the morning of our last day at Yellowstone, Harry and I packed Pagoo up as early as we could muster. Seeing no one at Soda Butte I headed for Slough Creek once again. The crowd was there and I hooted in triumph and optimism. Harry, forbidden from the ranks of the watchers of his ancestors, curled up in the back seat in resignation. And so I trudged up, moving against the current of my misanthropic nature, to the crest of the hill where a row of spotting scopes and Coleman camp chairs waited to introduce me to the Junction Butte pack.

Guide to the Yellowstone wolves, 2014
For more on the Yellowstone wolves, click here.

The Junction Butte pack consists of the alpha pair (one black male--my black blob from the prior day, and a grey female) , three subordinate adults and sub-adults and three 4-month old pups. The adults (each radio collared) are settling down from the night's hunting activities, but the pups and subordinates are active and engaged by the confident approach of a huge bison bull. As the bison plods past, the pups begin a tentative stalk, following closer and closer until the bison turns and, with a quick toss of his massive head, scatters the stalkers. I am absorbed for an hour, stealing between borrowed scopes and binoculars, reminded of how completely engaging the everyday activities of wild animals can be. Why is that, I wonder? Is it a deep acknowledgement that our days are often consumed by tasks that, under the slightest degree of soul scrutiny, are disclosed as meaningless? To watch these pups interact, centers me and reassures me that the important game of surviving is still in play in an authentic way in this world. And it is reassuring as well, that the others on this hill are just as eager to be distant witnesses and, like Dennis, share the privilege. I feel a fellowship with them.

Just before I pack up to move on to my next destination, the sleepy alpha male, 890, raises his head and howls. I see it happen a split second before it reaches my ears and raises every one of my hairs to attention. In those ancestral dreams, I may have shivered in fear at that sound. Today, I am safe on my distant hill, but am reminded how recent and fragile is the safety of Homo sapiens in a valley like Lamar.

Wolf study, Robert Bateman