Defenders Magazine

Rocky Road Ahead for Wolves?

The wolves of the northern Rockies have made a triumphant return — but they're not out of the woods yet

by Heidi Ridgley

© Dan & Cindy Hartman

Shadows sweep across the grassy hillocks and sagebrush in Yellowstone National Park's Lamar River Valley, with the deep quiet of a late fall evening broken by the haunting howl of a wolf coming from the valley floor. It's a member of the Druid pack—one of 12 packs of wild wolves in the park—announcing his presence. For the past six months this area has served as a sort of above-ground den and rendezvous site for the 16 members of this pack, where the pups born last spring have had the summer to play, learn and grow. Like other wolves in the park and the rest of the northern Rockies, the Druid pack is thriving. But that doesn't keep Doug Smith, lead wolf biologist at Yellowstone, from worrying about their future.

"I could be wrong, but something here feels out of whack," says Smith, noting the impacts of a decade-long drought on the area, likely the result of global warming. The Lamar River is the lowest he's ever seen it and there were 12 fires in Yellowstone last summer. "My first five years here, I never saw a puff of smoke anywhere," Smith says. "Now you can't make it through the season without lightning strikes sparking fires." In addition, hungry bears are becoming more problematic. "Last Monday night there was a bear attack [on a person] north of the park—the fifth there this season. I've lived here 15 years and to have five attacks in one area just north of Gardiner is incredible."   

The dry summer that has created poor forage for grizzlies has also left elk vulnerable. Much of the vegetation on which these hoofed animals—or ungulates—depend looks burnt and stunted. "Every winter is a survival test for grass-eating ungulates and going into winter with forage like this is going to be stressful for the elk and bison," says Smith. "If they didn't get enough food this summer, elk are going to be extra vulnerable to wolves. They'll run out of gas earlier."

Why is that a concern for Smith and the wolves he oversees? Even if global warming is the ultimate culprit making elk easier prey, that nuance will slip through the cracks and all the blame for elk deaths will land squarely—and wrongly—on the wolves. "I guarantee you that even though we think there's something greater at play, "Wolves Kill Elk" is all the newspapers will report," he says, well aware that facts often take a backseat to myths and hyperbole when it comes to wolves in this region.

The timing of the drought and its effects is particularly unfortunate given that federal officials just removed Endangered Species Act protections for Rocky Mountain wolves in late March. They turned wolf management over to the states, where some politicians and hunters want wolves gunned down because they claim wolves are depressing elk populations.

The facts speak differently. Data from Idaho Department of Fish and Game show that as the wolf population has increased since 2003, so have elk hunters' success rates. For example, in 2005 hunters killed more elk than they did in 1993, two years before the wolves were first reintroduced. The reality is that even in the face of a steadily climbing wolf population, elk numbers have exploded. Some estimates put the northern Rockies elk population at 350,000—well above the total of state objectives in Idaho, Montana and Wyoming. "Hunters may think there are less elk but studies indicate their numbers are still the same," says Smith. "They are just in places other than where hunters expect because elk must behave differently in the presence of wolves."

For nearly three-quarters of a century, elk grew complacent after their main predator was removed from the scene by a federal extermination campaign in the early 1900s. The last of the original Yellowstone wolves—two pups—were killed by rangers in 1926 near Soda Butte. It took $24 million of federal funds and additional private donations to correct what biologists and conservationists argued was a long-standing wrong, and beginning in 1995 wolves were restored to a small part of their former territory in the northern Rockies.

From the initial 66 wolves transplanted into the park and central Idaho from Canada and the 60 or so wolves that dispersed on their own from Canada to northwestern Montana, an estimated 1,500 wolves roam Idaho, Montana and Wyoming today—thanks in large part to the efforts of Smith and his colleagues. That success led federal officials last year to propose handing wolf management over to state agencies. Defenders of Wildlife opposed the move. "If all the states had sustainable management plans in place that guaranteed a self-supporting, viable wolf population, that would be one thing," says Suzanne Stone, Defenders' northern Rockies representative. "But Idaho and Wyoming's current plans will result in too many wolves being killed and fail to guarantee the long-term survival of the species." In fact, Idaho's governor stated at a political rally last year that he'd like to get the first permit to shoot a delisted wolf himself. The state's plan could allow all but 150 of the 800 wolves in Idaho today to be killed now that they are delisted.

Idaho's plan includes killing nearly all the wolves in the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness Area, a sprawling roadless expanse in the central part of the state that is larger than Yellowstone Park. The Idaho Fish and Game Department plans to leave only between eight and 32 wolves here—in comparison, Yellowstone currently supports about 150 wolves. "There is no justification for killing so many wolves in our state's most pristine wilderness area, where no livestock graze and strong elk populations thrive," says Stone. Idaho would also allow hunters to kill wolf pack members before pups are able to survive on their own, and it does not prohibit pups from being killed. 

But while Idaho's plan is bad, Wyoming's is even worse, says Stone. The Cowboy State wants to severely limit wolves outside the federal wilderness areas and national parks to just seven breeding pairs. Even in wilderness areas, wolves outside the trophy game area will not be safe. Wyoming's plan strips their protection in nearly 90 percent of the state and allows anyone to kill them on sight, without cause.

"If these plans are carried out, they'll place wolves in the northern Rockies—the West's most stable wolf population—at serious risk of rapid decline," Stone says. "Should we lose a significant portion of these wolves, it will fragment the population and threaten the species' genetic diversity. It will also result in fewer wolves available to disperse to states such as Colorado, Oregon, Utah and Washington, preventing the restoration of wolves to a wider range within their historical habitat. What we do today to protect wolves in the northern Rockies will directly impact the fate of wolves across the entire American West."

Conservationists once held hope that Montana would adhere to its more moderate management plan, but this state has authorized the killing of more of its small wolf population in recent years than Idaho or Wyoming.

In response, Defenders is preparing for legal challenges aimed at forcing the states to adopt more conservation-oriented plans. Defenders is also headed to court to fight to keep federal protections for wolves until FWS establishes population goals that will ensure viable wolf numbers are guaranteed for the long term.

In the end, even if state governments hold sway and are granted the right to kill wolves in large numbers based on hunters' claims, Wyoming won't necessarily see fewer wolves. A heavy harvest might actually stimulate wolves to leave the park and fill the vacancies, Smith notes. "If Yellowstone is the source of wolves and Wyoming is the sink, harvesting wolves heavily right up to the park border will create a suction on the wolves and pull them out of the park," he says. Wolves might even begin to produce more pups to fill the space—especially if constant wolf culling prevents packs from becoming large and stable. "Wolves deal a lot with death, so they've responded over time to be highly reproductive when needed," he adds. "What you'll end up with is more, smaller units producing lots more pups than one large pack would produce."

The wolves of the Druid pack, as they gather and greet each other the following morning in the Lamar Valley, are blissfully ignorant of the controversies and uncertainties swirling around them. Their continuing presence in this landscape is a testament to wolves' adaptability and tenacity—and to the success of the Endangered Species Act. That's some consolation to Smith, who, while viewing the wolves from a roadside vantage point, speculates about their future. "One thing that seems likely is that delisting will cause a spike in wolf mortality," he says. "But there's still a lot of wild country out here yet, and wildlife and wild country go hand in hand. Some people say the land is sterile now because of wolves. I think this speaks differently."

To punctuate his point, he looks to the wolves on the valley floor. In the dreamlike pre-dawn stillness, there is barely enough light to see their tail-wagging greetings, their romps and rolls on the patchy snow. But when they all throw their heads back and their howls travel across the whistling wind, it's clear these wolves are ready to get on with their day—whatever it may bring.

For more information and to learn how you can get involved, please visit www.defenders.org/nrwolves.

While reporting on this story, senior editor Heidi Ridgley checked off "hear wolves howl in the wild" from her list of things to do in this lifetime.