The Grizzly and Wolf Discovery Center

Our last full day of vacation was another busy one. We had planned a trip to the Grizzly and Wolf Discovery Center in West Yellowstone, one of the only touristy kind of things we did. I couldn't pass up the chance to see wolves and bears up close, and to gather some material for my artwork. Of all the animals we had wanted to see in Yellowstone N.P., bears--either black or brown--were the ones that we missed.

The Discovery Center is a non-profit organization that takes in animals who, for one reason or another, cannot be in the wild. Many of the bears (they had eight when we were there) were cubs orphaned when their mothers were shot after becoming habitual garbage eaters. The wolves are captive bred. I was just on their website (www.grizzlydiscoveryctr.com) and it looks like they have a bunch of new wolves. The Center was actually started by (I believe) a family in the area and was run privately. When the funds ran out, the community took the facility over and turned it into a non-profit, complete with educational displays, classes and, of course, great animal viewing opportunities.



The wonderful thing about the layout of the center is that you have unobstructed views of the animals. The center was nearly empty at 8am (gotta get there early with the hot weather) so I was able to stand on the top of the bleachers and get some great shots.

The center does its best to keep the bears entertained. Only two to three are let out into the pen at one time. Between groups staff will go out and hide food under logs and rocks so the bears have to go searching for it. The public can sign up to do this too, but we passed.



The enclosure included a large pool with a waterfall, and the bears were in and out of it all morning.



There are occasionally confrontations, especially if one bear wants to be where another bear is. They are mostly bluster, but are fun to watch.



BAM! POW! TAKE THAT!


I love the water flying in this shot.


The vanquished foe.


They have a sheet near the bear exhibit where folks can post bear sightings within the park. I was looking it over when I was struck by one particular post, from 1:30 pm the day before: "Female Grizzly with two cubs, north side of Mt. Washburn." I stared at the post for a while, thinking about where I had been the day before, mid-afternoon--walking, alone, down the north side of Mt. Washburn. I never saw any bears, though if you remember the pile of scat there were certainly signs of bears. I wondered, was she just over that ridge, the one that blocked my view and made me so uneasy?

After watching the bears for a while we moved over to the wolf enclosure. It was nice to get a view of them up close after seeing them in the wild.





The wolves were less testy. As pack animals they were not so confrontational with each other. I do have a hard time with animals in pens, especially ones who are wide ranging species. They pace around and look always unsettled. I have to remind myself that these animals serve a purpose, to enrich and educate the public, to help get people to care about the ones who live outside the fences.



The viewing area for the wolves was walled deck that jutted out into the enclosure. It allowed for some great close up shots.



Inside the center are some wonderful educational exhibits. Having worked on some murals and exhibits with Lori, I can really appreciate the work that goes into making these look natural.



I like that they're not behind glass.



We stayed for a while, hoping the captive wolves would howl for us, but they never did. Perhaps they did not want to spoil my memory of the wolves of Hayden Valley.

Our bags were packed, and we were ready to start the drive back to Jackson Hole. We planned one more stop before leaving the park, so we bid the wolves a fond adieu and hit the road.



Next: Hot springs and the lone coyote

Wolves in Hayden Valley

By eight am we had made it down into the Hayden Valley. The Grand Loop Road's eastern arm runs along the Yellowstone River as it flows north out of Yellowstone Lake along the eastern edge of the Hayden Valley. This is another "hot spot" for wildlife viewing and we had our fingers crossed. Must have had our toes crossed too because we could not have hoped for what we were about to see.

Once again, rounding a bend in the road we came upon a large clot of vehicles pulled to the side and filling a turnout. Out we hopped with camera and binoculars and approached a small group of folks talking excitedly. What was all the commotion about? A wolf pack, just on the other side of a copse of trees jutting out from the road toward the river.

There was no sign of them from our vantage point, but then a fellow's two-way radio crackled. Someone had gone up ahead along the road, and had found a clear sight line to the pack on the other side of the trees. It was like a scramble at an air force base, everyone grabbing gear, folding up their spotting scopes and running for their cars and vans.

I don't recall how far we drove, 1/2 mile to a mile I'd guess, before we came to another turn out. We all piled out (now I'm seeing the Keystone Cops) and rushed to the edge of the pavement. There, there they were, probably a half mile away, tucked just at the base of the trees, basking in the morning sun.

Don't see them? I couldn't very well either. Look to the left of the dead tree at the center of the frame.


Ah, there they are!


The aptly named Hayden Valley pack was cavorting and romping in the sunrise. The Alpha female was white, and she stood out like a firebrand in the sunshine. Her pups, probably 4 or 5 months by this time, were frolicking in the prairie grass. This wolf pack was fairly known, it turns out, as they tended to hang out very near the road, and could often be seen crossing the road. Lucky they didn't get run over!

Do you see the wolf on the right edge of this image?


I didn't have a tripod, so I knelt by the railing and balanced my camera on top, and took some shots, hoping against hope that something would be visible. I'm happy that I was able to get these, poor as they are (and super blown up at that).




Many of the people there watching with us did this on a regular basis. Some were retirees who spent much of their time exploring the park. Others were private tour guides who knew the park inside and out and would take groups around to the best sights. These folks knew everything about the regulars of any particular area--I remember one fellow talking about the bald eagle pair and where they usually hung out and where their nest was. They were all gracious and friendly and let us watch the wolves through their spotting scopes.

While I knelt on the ground and the group of 40 or so chatted, one woman raised her voice above the rest. Without shouting, she calmly said, "If you listen you can hear them."

The group went silent instantly. And yes, there, rolling across the valley floor, was the sound of howling wolves.

First, one of a moderate tone, then joined by another, lower. Then a third, higher. Then a fourth. They howled and yipped and sang in the sunrise. I was utterly flabbergasted. Never in my dreams could I have imagined this, a morning beside the Yellowstone River listening to the singing of the wolves. I put my head down on my arm and cried like a baby.



We stayed for a while there by the river, but the day was wearing on and we had other things we wanted to do. If the wolves had been closer, more visible, we would have stayed longer. We decided to return in the evening, to see if there were still around. To our delight, that evening around 6:30 when we made it back into the valley, the wolves were still in the area.

Here, the alpha female, wolf number 540f, sniffs along the river's banks. Several of these wolves were collared for tracking purposes, to help biologists study them and learn their behaviors. They are never given names, to help those studying them be less likely to anthropomorphise, I guess. So 540f it is.



Whatever her name, she was beautiful.



Upstream from the white wolf was one of her pups with another adult, nosing around in the flats. The yellowed, hazy skies that hung over Yellowstone that day was from the smoke of Idaho wildfires.



Here they are, cropped.



For months after our return home I was haunted by the howling of the wolves. That moment followed me everywhere. Anyone who has had the good fortune of hearing wolves in the wild knows what I mean. It never leaves you, that feeling. Wolves were never really the enemy of man, not until we domesticated their prey. I would not be surprised if for millenia we didn't work together, one following the other to sustenance. How else did we end up with dogs? We have a certain kinship to these creatures, and I for one am forever grateful to those who made possible the reintroduction of wolves into Yellowstone.

By February of the following year I couldn't take it any more and decided to do a piece in honor of my experience. The alpha female, wolf 540f, was burned onto my brain. I didn't have images good enough to work from, so I stated a search online for photos. I came across some awesome shots of the pack taken near the end of October 2007, three months after we'd seen them. I do not recall the photographer's name, but I downloaded a few. Here's one of them calling in the pack. The fellow who shot these watched them take down an elk a day later.



From some other photos I found I created this piece.


With my prints I like to include information sheet about the animal, physiological info, habitat etc and my experiences with that animal. I wanted to write a piece about this magical morning, and started doing some research about the pack.

I was shocked by what I found. Here is the end of the story:

As we know, Nature is not sentimental. Nature cares little for beauty or mystical moments, as these are human inventions. A few weeks after finishing this drawing, I decided to do some research on the Hayden Valley pack. After some searching, the news I found was initially stunning—the Alpha male and female, wolves 540f and 541, had been killed in late October of 2007, probably by a neighboring pack, just three months after I had seen them and been so moved by them. It was a jolt to my psyche, yet at the same time a confirmation of how Nature works. Yes, life can be brutal, and often is. Life needs death to sustain it, whether to feed it or to make room for the next generation, the next ruling pack. There is no room in Nature for the sentimentality of a broken heart.

The Alpha female of Hayden Valley and her pack were, for many thousands of Yellowstone visitors, the first and perhaps only wolf pack they will see in the wild. I am only one of many who was moved by this powerful animal. The knowledge of her fate only makes my oh-so-human tribute to her that much more personal and intense.

Yes, by the end of October, wolf 540f was no more. No one is sure how many of her pack survived, although several months later an adult was spotted with one of the pups near Old Faithful. Life goes on. Perhaps they started a new pack, or were taken in by another. Life goes on.

I will never ever forget that moment, that experience that still brings tears to my eyes.

What majesty.


What grace.

The Magical Slough Creek

The afternoon of July 21st was hot and dry. After leaving Yellowstone Falls we planned to hike along the Slough Creek. I don't recall what made us pick this trail, except that it was on the other side of the road from the Lamar Valley, a hot spot for wildlife viewing. Our first goal however was to find a shady spot to eat lunch.

We pulled into a parking area at the trail head for the Slough Creek Trail. There was no shade to park in, all the prime spots were already taken. We fixed some sandwiches and climbed a rocky outcrop that was surrounded by trees and ate there. While we ate, movement out the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked to my right and saw the most beautiful coyote trotting past us, not more than 50 yards. This creature looked right at us as it moved past. We stared back, in awe and agony since I'd left my camera in the car.

After lunch we moved the car down near the creek and campground area, donned the water shoes we'd gotten in West Yellowstone to protect our tender feet from the river stones, and went to cool off. Near the camp ground the creek moves through an S curve and a gravel bar with some larger rocks. We sat in the sun with our toes dangling in the cold creek waters. This is the view upriver, with the gravel bar where we sat in the foreground.





While we sat, talking and relaxing, I looked upstream and saw two fairly large objects bobbing side by side, floating down the river. They were a ways off, and in the shade, and it took me a moment to realize it was a pair of river otters. They were heading right for us.




You would think I would have learned my lesson with the coyote, but again I did not have my camera with me. I leapt up, scrambling over rocks and stones in my thin water shoes and dashed to the car. I grabbed my camera--wrong lens! Quickly changed lenses--no polarizer! Crap! No time! I dashed back to the creek and ran down the bank, zigging around tents and jumping over logs as I ran through the campground. I got only a few shots, and most of them were not in focus--hand-holding a 200mm lens when you're panting does not result in very good pictures, but at least I have proof!



They were diving and playing as they floated past. Part of me wanted to join them, such happy and free creatures they seem to be.





Since I was now all hot and dusty we decided to hit the trail. We donned our hiking boots, grabbed our walking sticks (for that all-important false sense of security) and hit the trail.


The Slough Creek has its headwaters in southern Montana, somewhere in the Absaroka/Beartooth Wilderness. It flows southwest, gathering up smaller streams. Downstream from the campground it joins the Lamar River, which flows into the Yellowstone. The area is known for its wolf packs, most notable the Driuds, which has been well-documented by the PBS series Nature, and their rivals the Slough Creek pack. We were well aware of this, and even though it was mid-afternoon on a hot summer day we were very aware of every sound in the woods surrounding the trail.

We hiked for some time, then came to a stretch of the creek littered with boulders. I have no idea where they all came from. Most of the creek is placid, but here the waters tumbled through the rocks.




As far as I can tell the peak in the background is not named, but is part of the Buffalo Plateau.




My intrepid companion, shouldering my camera gear. I look utterly ridiculous in shorts and hiking boots so I'll spare you and myself the agony of a shot of me by the creek.





The woods along the trail were cool, with spruce, pine, and mossy stones. Lisa loved this place, calls it the Fairy Forest. I can understand why.




We reached a spot where it was either cross the river or turn back. I had a rather uneasy feeling, so we turned around and started back to the car.

I don't know if it was the sunlight and the direction that we were walking that caused us not to see the wolf tracks in the mud along the bank on the hike out, or if they weren't there when we passed the first time. They looked very fresh, no drying out of the edges or other signs of age. (BTW, that's a quarter in the shot for scale.)



The idea that a pair of wolves may have crossed the trail behind us was rather electrifying. But whatever the case, a pair of tracks, about 15 feet apart, made a straight line down the bank, across the river, and then followed the far edge of the river for another 30 feet or so until the animals moved up the bank and into the meadow beyond.

A little ways farther downstream we found an old elk skull, partly buried in the mud. It was small, a female or perhaps a youngster. After seeing the wolf tracks I could just imagine the drama that may have played out, one winter day perhaps, the Slough Creek pack surrounding this elk as it foundered in the deep snows, procuring a meal that would ensure its survival for another week or two.





Upon our return to the campground, we changed into our bathing suits and plunged into the cold waters of the creek. There was a deep hole just upstream from where we'd seen the otters, too deep to touch bottom, the current not so strong, perfect for cooling off on a hot summer day.


In hindsight I would have to say this was my favorite place of the entire trip, and when we go back, some day, I want to camp here. A fairyland indeed.



Next: Pronghorn revisited, and maybe a moose.