BLIZZARD, WOLVES, RAVENS AND EAGLES

It started snowing this morning at 7:20.  Our forecast for the arrowhead is for heavy snow, high winds and gale warnings for the Big Lake... a Nor'easter to be sure.

Mary made a great breakfast of bacon, eggs and hash browns.  After breakfast I topped off the redpoll feeder with crushed sunflower seeds and filled the suet feeder.  When I closed the patio door, a large bird cruised over the house.  I thought for a moment that it was Sammy our Herring Gull that stops by each day for his snack.  The bird circled the house and when I looked out our east window I saw that it was a Bald Eagle.  He landed in a dead birch next to another immature Bald Eagle and about twenty ravens.  I knew immediately there was a deer kill in the area. 

Our east window looks out over the wildflower garden that is still knee deep snow; apparently,  about to get deeper.  At the far edge of the garden, almost into the white cedars, was a long red swath of blood.  It was at least forty yards long reaching part way down the ridge into the moose maple.  I could now see a large flock of the Ravens sitting on a deer carcass.  I told Mary that I needed to go and check to see if it was one of the four local deer that we feed.

This was the second deer kill by wolves I have seen in the last ten days, which is pretty much on schedule.  Each winter, especially in the months of February and March, I find a deer carcass about every seven days.  This one was still warm and barely consumed, mostly by the crows and ravens.  It is always a relief to find that the victim was not one of my deer.  I decided to drag the deer back through the garden, so we could watch the ravens and crows.  The deer was not that large, probably 120-130 pounds; but it was tough going through the crusted snow.  I left it under a spruce tree, so the impending snow storm would not completely inundate the carcass.  

The snow became heavier and the crows and ravens began flying to the deer carcass.  We counted sixteen ravens at one time, plus many crows that have arrived in the last couple of weeks.  It is interesting to watch the "pecking order" of the ravens.  They squawk, posture and at times wrestle each other for turns at the deer buffet.  During this noisy period, a beautiful mature Bald Eagle flew in and landed on the carcass.  I got to observe first hand that the crows back off from the ravens and the ravens from the eagles.  Although there was no confrontation amongst the three species, the eagle went about his dining in peace but not quiet.  The crows sat off to one side and the ravens hopped around the carcass, stealing whatever small tidbits they could find.  The eagle sat on the carcass and ripped off chunks of meat and intestines, the power of their beak is quite impressive.

The snow kept getting heavier and the northeast wind was blowing 20-30 miles an hour.  I was trying to take photos through the window, but with the heavy snow hitting the window it was next to impossible.  I was sitting with a perfect wildlife photo op and the weather was screwing it up.  I decided to take off the screen and open the window six inches, just wide enough to fit my telephoto lens.  The other problem was the strong wind and horizontal snowfall, which was getting worse each hour.

I managed to get some photos of the eagle and ravens, but it was difficult to shoot in blizzard conditions.  I took a break and at 1:00, I called in our snow totals to the National Weather Service in Duluth.  I have been a snow spotter for them for the last two years, so each snowfall gets reported until the bitter end.  So with six more inches recorded, we now sit at 91 inches of snow for the season... with more to come.

A hour and half after measuring the snow depth, Mary told me to get the camera ready because two wolves were coming up the ridge from the south valley.  I went to the east window and opened it again and set my camera in position to take their photos.  The culprits were returning to the scene of the crime.  One of the wolves was smaller and had a bit of the mange.  The second wolf was a beautiful animal, I had seen both of them before, but never together.  The big one was in our cedars one afternoon and I was fortunate to get some decent photos of him.  Now the weather was so rotten, I figured the whole photo episode would be a wash.

The big wolf bit into the rear leg of the deer carcass and pulled it ten yards like it was a rag doll.  I knew the power of the wolf after seeing the aftermath of various deer kills, but seeing it first hand is a whole other thing.  I shot many photos while the small wolf ate, the large wolf was uneasy in the setting close to our buildings.  He watched while the smaller wolf ate, sometimes walking in a loop and returning to quickly eat.  They stayed about five minutes and left in the same direction, south into the valley below our ridge. 

 

The ravens continued eating until nightfall and the eagle returned one more time.  The two immature eagles that first landed in the morning, never came back.  I told Mary, it will be interesting to see if the carcass gets moved during the night, or if the wolves return in the morning.  We discussed the fact that few places exist where you can observe such a wondrous cycle of life out your bedroom window.  

I am far from a wolf expert, but two things about them I know... First, in our forest the wolf goes to lengths to avoid man and second, he has no other enemy.     

"Wolves are not our brothers; they are not our subordinates, either.  They are another nation, caught up just like us in the complex web of time and life." ~ Henry Beston

ICE STORM

                                                                March Ice Storm

The spring season perhaps best exemplifies the fickleness of Mother Nature.  Most years at this time, I recall sublime weather here on Cedar Ridge.  Hikes in the woods, enjoying warm 4o and 5o degree temperatures.  The advent of the first Mourning Cloak or Compton's Tortoiseshell Butterfly from their frozen hibernations.  The first sighting of the Eastern Chipmunk.  This year, Mother Nature seems to have forgotten about the warm breezes and substituted them with wind chill.  Since January she has dished out 2009 weather with a vengeance. 

This past week we had an ice storm which could have been much worse.  I say much worse for us, because our neighbors to the south in Lake County are still without electricity... since Tuesday.  I saw images on television of vast devastation of trees; some areas literally looked like they had been bombed.  

Mary and I watched as the layers of ice grew on the tree branches and wires of our bird feeders.  The icicles grew on the finch feeder, almost closing off the landing area and blocking the seed outlets.  Branches on all the trees began drooping little by little as the ice began encasing them.  

We filled containers with water and charged up our cellphones in preparation of a power outage.  We don't have a backup for heat since we have an all electric home.  Our secondary heat source is a wood pellet stove and it's blower and auger also relies on electricity.  At 11:40 p.m. the lights blinked once and that was it....

The next morning when I looked out the window, the first glimpse entertained thoughts of future "electric" despair.  It looked grim as ice covered and encased each twig and branches of all the trees.  In our yard, the white cedars looked in the worst shape.  The thick boughs looked like frozen waterfalls and the paper birch were bent so bad, some of the tops were frozen to the ground.  

I chipped the ice off the bird feeders and threw some seeds on the ground for the Common Redpolls and Pine Siskins.  I made a suet post for the woodpeckers a while back, by drilling out 1 1/2 inch holes.   We mix up cornmeal, lard and peanut butter and fill the holes.  The northeast side of the post was solid ice, so the woodpeckers had to work on the leeward side.

I took my camera and carefully walked out on the expansive, never ending skating rink.  It was a sight to behold.  I have seen one other bad ice storm in my life and this one had all the earmarks of topping it.  I gingerly crossed the driveway and made it to the trail that leads into the Superior National Forest.  The crust on the snow was covered with a half inch of solid ice; the red squirrels were literally skating on top of the snow from tree to tree.

The trail was buried with ice covered and arched trees.  I had to walk along side the trail, through the alders, crashing through the icy crust, up to my knees in snow.  I could see my trail feeder ahead, it was still hanging in a white cedar.  I whistled for my chickadees and they immediately flew down the trail to meet me.  Right behind them was my Common Redpoll friend and Norris my itinerant Red-breasted Nuthatch.  It was good to see the whole "crew" that feed out of my hand.  I fed them for sometime until all the usual suspects showed up and were accounted for. 

I began taking photos of the glistening, ice covered trees.  The most bizarre sight was a forty foot  paper birch, completely bowed and the heavy top frozen to the ground.  I began taking photos of the "catkins" encased in ice.  The chickadees and nuthatches follow me everywhere in the woods and had to get into the act.  I captured some interesting shots of them perched on the branches of the icy birch.  

Resilience is maybe not the proper word, but the trees of the forest are indeed tough.  I was amazed that their damage was not greater... although I was careful to stand in open areas to avoid a "major league" concussion from falling ice and branches.  It sounded like a war echoing throughout the forest with the crashing tree branches and falling ice. 

 

I returned home and the electricity came on after a 9 1/2 hours outage.  The freezing rain continued and the new forecast sounded dire.  The ice storm warning was extended through the evening into the coming day, we were to receive another 1/4  to 1/2  inch of ice.  As nightfall approached, we fired up the wood pellet stove to get the house warmer for an impending power outage.  At 9:40 the lights went out and the candles were lit.

The temperature at this time was 33.4 degrees and the heavens had opened up with pouring rain. I called the electric company and found out it was a transmission line problem and the entire county was out of power.  That gave me hope that this outage would be fixed soon because of the one location.  At 1:20 a.m. the power came on along with our front yard motion light.  I went to the patio window and looked out... I couldn't believe my eyes.  In a little over three hours of pouring down rain, the entire ice coatings had been removed from the trees.  There was no ice anywhere to be seen.  The 33 degree temperature had saved our trees and power lines.  It was like a small miracle, because a 2-4 degree difference in temperature, meant  the difference between "preservation or destruction."

Morning light showed that all was well up the trail.  The birds were at the feeder, the ice was gone and everything was back to some semblance of order.  I suspect when the trees begin to bud and leaf, their scars will heal and eventually be hidden.

"For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver." ~ Martin Luther  

INVASION OF THE COMMON REDPOLL

A whir of wings, high pitched chirping and  a ribbon of small birds in the sky... this usually means the arrival of the Pine Siskins and their cousins the Common Redpolls.

This year Cedar Ridge and by the reports, most of Minnesota  has been invaded by huge numbers of Pine Siskins and the Common Redpolls.  We started seeing them on December 29, 2008, when a few arrived at our bird feeders.  Each day the numbers of the Common Redpolls have been increasing.  March 9th, we were visiting friends at Tait Lake and we witnessed hundreds of Common Redpolls feeding in their yard.  There were so many, it looked like an out of control ant hill.

                                                                                                           "Red"

In a previous post, I mentioned hanging a bird feeder on my trail in the Superior National Forest.  In the last few weeks, I have had a Common Redpoll meet me on the trail to the feeder.  When he sees me coming, he lands in a moose maple and waits for the chickadees to "break the ice".  The chickadees immediately land in my hand for a seed and "Red", the Common Redpoll, follows suit.  Unlike the chickadees who land, grab a seed and take off.  "Red" sits in my hand and rotates the hulled sunflower seed in his beak until it is pulverized.  Defending his territory with loud chirping when the chickadees attempt to land.  He is feisty to be sure, but when "Norris" my Red-breasted Nuthatch friend arrives on the scene, he quickly departs to a nearby branch.  None of the "small" birds mess with the crazed nuthatch who is certainly, "King of the Big Cedars."

The Common Redpoll is a tiny finch, he measures 5-6 inches in length.  He has a conical bill with a black chin and a red "dollop" on his forehead.  The male has a pink chest and the female is without pink and is heavily streaked in shades of brown and tan.  The male's pink shading varies from a very light pink to a glowing red.  They are striking little birds, especially when perched on newly fallen snow.

Common Redpolls are interesting to observe because of their erratic behavior.  They really follow the leader when it comes to their ravenous eating habits.  One redpoll will fly in to the food source and immediately the whole flock will descend to the feeding area.  They will eat for sometime if they are undisturbed.  When they have picked over the area, they will fly to a protected tree, like a white cedar or spruce.  There, they will eat and swallow the seeds they stored in throat pouches.  This way, on cold winter days, they can stay warm and enjoy their meal in relative safety.

                                                                                                 Hoary Redpoll

An unique "off shoot" of the Common Redpoll is the Hoary Redpoll.  He is a long range visitor of the high Arctic and is an uncommon visitor to northern, North America.  They breed in the tundra and there are two subspecies; the southern and the Greenland.  We were fortunate to see one of the subspecies of the Hoary at Tait Lake.  It was not too difficult to distinguish him from the Common Redpoll, because of his frosty, white feathers.  He has a white rump and is white under tail; plus he is a tad larger.  The one we observed almost glowed amongst the hundreds of Common Redpolls we watched feeding.

Being an "observer" and not a bird expert, I have read accounts on the Pine Siskin and Common Redpoll invasions from New Brunswick, Canada to northern Illinois.  Why?  I am not sure, but when the bird counts and wrap ups are done in the spring, I am sure we will have a variety of opinions from the bird experts.  Until then, we on Cedar Ridge will enjoy the color and brightness they bring to us each day.  

 

  

 

"In all things of nature

there is something of the 

 marvelous." ~ Aristotle

              

WINTER ROBIN: "SENTINEL OF THE HAWTHORN TREE"

Tuesday was a beautiful winter day, boasting a gorgeous blue sky... second to none.  Mary and I hopped in the Jeep and headed for Grand Marais.

                                                                     Cedar Waxwing

We meandered up the Gunflint Trail a few miles and turned down the Trout Lake road.  I thought with some good luck, we might be fortunate to see a moose or Canada Lynx.  We drove a number of miles, but never saw one track crossing or along side the road.  So, when all else fails, have lunch.

Entering Grand Marais, we hit a birding bonanza.  In the mountain ash trees, we saw dozens of Cedar Waxwings feeding on the over ripe berries.  The birds, framed against the azure blue sky and red, mountain ash berries, were spectacular.  I took photos for more than an hour and was fortunate to get the best Cedar Waxwing photos to date.

We went to the "Crooked Spoon" restaurant for lunch.  It is a marvelous restaurant, featuring gourmet sandwiches and specials that would "top off" a starving logger.

 

Later, we returned to the mountain ash trees, but the Cedar Waxwings had left.  We drove to the Grand Marais Municipal Campground to look for the waxwings.  In the park, we not only found the waxwings, but a small flock of female Pine Grosbeaks.  They proved to be more docile and approachable than the waxwings, so I ended up with a few, flawless Pine Grosbeak shots.

                                                                 Female Pine Grosbeak

The next day I returned to Grand Marias, to search once more for the waxwings.  I found them and a few male Pine Grosbeaks on my first attempt.  I stayed there for over a hour, snapping more than a hundred photos and enjoying the pristine, winter day.  When all the birds disappeared, I left to check out the mountain ash trees in town.  In a previous post, I mentioned that Grand Marais, for it's size, must have the most mountain ash trees in America.  It is a birders paradise in the fall, winter and spring... at least while the berries are hanging on.  This winter, the berries are still thick on the trees, but are starting to fall off with the changes in the weather.  The snow below the trees is stained red by the fallen fruit.

                                                       American Robin  Jan. 22, 2009

Making my way through town, street by street, I passed the Art Colony building.  Earlier, on January 22, I had taken an American Robin photo in the hawthorn tree by the building.  As I turned the corner, I noticed a few Cedar Waxwings flying out of the hawthorn tree.  I parked the car, took my camera and walked over to the hawthorn tree.

The Cedar Waxwings flew out of a pine tree, returning to the hawthorn tree.  When they attempted to land, a rust colored missile, flew chirping out of a pine, directly behind the hawthorn tree.  It was the  same robin I photographed in January; he was guarding his waning treasure of  hawthorn fruit.

                                                                          "On Guard"

I stayed there and took photos of his relentless "strafing" of the Cedar Waxwings.  The waxwings would perch in the nearby pines and any attempt to land was thwarted by the "mad bomber."  It was hilarious to watch and photograph.  Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of chasing waxwings away from his tree, he pursued the remainder down the street... and didn't return. 

 

I suspected he would be back at dusk for his evening meal and taking up his post as the 'Sentinel and Guardian of the Hawthorn Tree.'

"Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher." ~ William Wordsworth 

GRAY FOX

                                                                             Gray Fox

Few animals on Cedar Ridge have provided us with more entertainment and beauty than the Gray Fox.

                                                                          Gray Fox

We first saw the Gray Fox one evening during the early winter of 2005.  It was just a glimpse, after they set off our motion light in our front yard .  The 2005-06 winter was particularly snowy, with a total of about  1oo inches of snow. I had seen a Gray Fox once before, in our back yard when we lived in Aitkin County.  That sighting was also in the winter, at night, during a light snow fall.  The two fox begin returning sporadically, checking out the scraps we had been putting out for our Pine Martens and Fishers.  The fox got used to the motion light, but when I opened the front door, they would run down into the cedars.  I told Mary if it was possible to assemble a fantasy animal baseball team, the Gray Fox would probably play shortstop.  When they are frightened, the first 30 yard sprint is an actual blur.  If you could zap them with a radar gun, it has to be an incredible speed in such a short distance. 

  

                                                                             Gray Fox

Each night the fox  would stay for longer periods of time.  Sadly, we could see they both were rather emaciated.  The deep snow had provided a difficult barrier for the hunting of mice,voles and hares.  We started putting out more scraps and finally some dry and canned dog food, which by morning had disappeared. 

Gray Fox breed in the winter from January - March, there is a 51-53 gestation period.  It is widely know in fox literature, that the Gray Fox has the ability to climb trees.  I have never seen this happen, but I once had a pet Red Fox that I watched climb a spruce tree like walking up stairs... and back down with adept dexterity and grace. 

 

At times, we were treated to strange sounds emitting from the deep cedars.   When we opened a door the male fox would bark, making a rasping, piercing sound, much like a large cat in a jungle movie.  If you were camping and didn't know what this racket was, you would probably  sleep with one eye open... it is that erie a sound.  I believe these male fox antics vary from being territorial, to a mating ritual... or possibly both.

 

Both fox came through the winter in great shape and became evening sentinels along our forest edge.  We would see them each night after their dining, sitting, preening and cleaning each other's fur.  The female fox gradually spent time on our lawn when the snow melted.  She would curl up in a ball and sleep for a period of time, obviously in complete trust of her surroundings.  The male would stay in the forest and not be as visible, but he was always on guard for signs of danger.

  

The Gray Fox is a nocturnal animal, so we seldom would see them during the day.  As the days grew longer, they would come at their regular time, but we now could see them more clearly and appreciate their beauty.  The Gray Fox is a stunning animal and I jokingly refer that their face and nose looks "pin stripped", like a sports car.  The body of the fox is salt and pepper gray, with a rufus red neck and shoulders.  Their tail is a beautiful thick, rust to gray with a black stripe from the back to the very tip.  When they sit, their tail will lay out on the grass, proudly displayed.  In the winter they use it as a "blanket" for warmth, wrapped around their feet.

In a previous post, I eluded that the Gray Fox hates wind, heavy snow and coyotes, "not necessarily in that order."  I have observed the first two and know that if we have a wind storm or heavy snow, the fox are on hiatus.  Sometimes after heavy snow, disappearing for a couple of weeks.  If we have a wild wind and rain, they will take the night off and hole up in their den.  Their den can be a crevice in our ledge rock, a log, or under the floor of a dog kennel.  Yes, I said dog kennel.  Not having a dog, I built a kennel for our son and daughter in law's dogs.  The kennel was attached to the east end of our garage, a tall chain link fence on a wood floor.  In the twilight hours, I would see the female Gray Fox walk around our wild flower bed below our house.  She would disappear behind the dog kennel and garage.  One morning I sneaked around the garage and found that she had dug out the soil from the corner of the kennel.  She was living under the floor in relative splendor compared to other Gray Fox. 

 

The male fox became a lone entity at dinner, we watched as he carried food away into the forest.  This kept up for many weeks, as each evening he would dutifully carry food away.  We didn't see the female fox for quite sometime until one May evening, she showed up to eat on her own.  She ate her fill and walked up on our lawn, curled up and fell asleep.  Later the male fox would come and eat, then sit by her on the lawn until she woke up and they both disappeared into the forest.  This went on for a few weeks until July 25th in 2006, we had a pleasant surprise. Early in the evening, two fox appeared on the little hill  above our cedar forest.  I didn't pay much attention to the two because I took it for granted it was ma and pa fox coming for dinner.

 

                                                    Original Mother Gray Fox & Kit

To our delight, it was mother fox with a miniature version of herself.  The kit was absolutely perfect, there wasn't a hair out of place and she was a "spitting image" of mother fox.  We were thrilled to see the kit, because now we knew why the male had been carrying off food for those many weeks.  Our speculation was that the female had kits sometime in April and now we were witnessing the arrival of their first offspring.  We knew that the Gray Fox could have up to seven kits, but we had no idea how and when the adult fox debuted their kits.

July Gray Fox Kit

                                                                  August Gray Fox Kit

Mother fox would bring the single kit each night. At the end of August we ended up with a total of five Gray Fox kits, all lined up on the edge of the forest brush, close to the front lawn.  The two adults would show up with the kits at different times. The male would usually have three with him and the mother fox would have two.  The mother would come up on the lawn to get the food and bring it to the kits, while the male would sit in the forest and watch.  Only when all the kits were fed, he would come up and eat what was left... a model husband to be sure. 

The kits stayed with the adults through fall and early into the next winter.  About the time the breeding season started in late January, the female fox dispersed the family.  The lone kit that remained, was the first one that the mother fox brought to our lawn.  The male fox ended up disappearing, never to return.  We felt something had happened to him in the late winter.  It is thought that the Gray Fox mates for life, but I am not so sure of that because of happenings later in this post.

  

Late in March of 2007, the original, female kit, brought another male fox to our ridge.  He obviously didn't know the drill, because she would now come up to our patio.  The mother fox and her, would sit on our front lawn and I would feed them anything from the dreaded "white" hot dogs to dog food, and chicken scraps. The original mother stayed here on Cedar Ridge with her kit and new mate.  Like all good mother in laws, she kept her distance as the new pair started their life together. 

 

On May 31, 2007, I was sitting at the computer and from our east window, I noticed a movement by the dog kennel.  The kit from last year had taken up residence under the dog kennel, so I assumed it was her.  I thought it was strange she would be out there, because it was later in the morning.  To my surprise it was two, tiny Gray Fox kits, taking in the warm morning sunshine.  I watched them play with each other, chewing on dead grass as a house cat would do and attacking any insect they could find. 

                                                               Enjoying the Sunshine 

This kept up for a couple of days and then they disappeared.  We found out that the mother had moved them, for they were not under the kennel anymore. 

The new father would come each night and run the same drill as his predecessor last summer.  We could always identify him because he was the largest Gray Fox on the ridge.  He also had a little notch out of his right ear, so he was easy to recognize.  As summer turned to fall, we ended up helping raise four more kits, the two adults and the original female fox we affectionately called "Granny".

                                                                     "Granny Fox"

Through the  winter of 2007 and 2008, the family stayed together until after the mating season when it again became dispersal time.  The kits left one by one, until it was just the male and female, plus "Granny."  The 29th of May, the new kits appeared at the same location outside the kennel.  The new mother had let her kits appear, two days before her mother sent her out into the sunshine of Cedar Ridge... exactly a year later.

What transpired after the first kit sighting is pure speculation.  We never again saw "Granny" fox or the new mother.  One cold, rainy night I heard this whimpering and crying in our front yard.  I turned on the motion light and went outside and found a Gray Fox kit crying in the pouring down rain. When he saw me he wobbled as fast as he could along the side the house to the kennel.  I got him back to the dog kennel and I went back to the house.  The next morning I came out the side door and found a wet pile of fur lying on the lawn.  It was a dead kit.  I picked him up and brought him over past the kennel and buried him in the forest.  I was upset for the fact that there was no sign of trauma, and for certain, any predator would have  carried him away.

                                                                      Gray Fox Kit 

                                                          Daughter in law Blythe & Kit

                                                                         Gray Fox Kit

The next few days were very sad for us, we ended up losing all the kits but two.  We now knew that the mother fox was dead and probably "Granny"; we hadn't seen either of them for days.  I put on leather gloves and was able to catch the last two kits.  My daughter in law Blythe took one home, but the kit was too weak and died the next day.  She and I drove the last remaining kit to "Wild and Free Rehabilitation Center" in Garrison, Mn.  We left the kit in their care and hoped that they could save the last remaining Gray Fox on Cedar Ridge.

I called the rehabilitation center every few days to find out the kits condition, but after about a week the last one died. Dr. Deb, the veterinarian, told me the stress, loneliness and other problems probably led to his death. 

The male gray returned one afternoon and we observed him digging around the kennel.  He knew something was wrong and could not find his family.  Father fox returned for the next few days, trying to dig around the kennel to no avail.  He left the ridge in early June and we never saw him again that summer. 

 

In the fall, on October 8, 2008, father fox returned.  His unmistakeable size and the notch in his right ear, positively identified him.  At his side was a small, beautiful female Gray Fox, checking out her new surroundings.  The male Gray Fox had found a new mate... thus dispelling the 'mate for life' theory.  Now, at the height of the mating season, we hope to see another litter of Gray Fox kits romping in the spring sunshine.  

 

It is a joy, to have the Gray Fox back home on Cedar Ridge. 

    

 

 "The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men." ~ Emile Zola

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Wild & Free ~ Wildlife Rehabilitation Program

P.O. Box 241

Garrison, MN  56450

            

WOLVES OF CEDAR RIDGE

Arguably, few animals in the Superior National Forest are more intriguing than the timber wolf.  I suspect a mountain lion or wolverine sighting on Cedar Ridge might trump that statement.  Until then, in my opinion, the Gray Wolf remains the most majestic animal on our ridge. 

The Gray Wolf has different color morphs and I have observed most of them; white or very light gray, black, dark gray and mottled.  They run in packs from 2- 12 or more, which cover hundreds of square miles.  On our ridge I have never seen more than two together, but one night we were serenaded by at least 4-8 wolves. It was a cold, quiet, moonlit night, Mary and I were awakened by the "coral group" who were about thirty yards behind our house.  I looked out the window and the full moon had the classic wisps of clouds, forming  shadows across the yard and trees.  Each wolf seemed as it was howling in harmony, producing tones from  mellow basses to rich Irish tenors.

The fall of 2003 when Mary and I were building our house, we lived in our garage.  There were many September and October nights when we heard wolf packs howling on the next higher ridge.    An unforgettable sound... once you hear it, you never forget it.   

All the wolves I have seen on our ridge have varied in size.  Books tell you their weight varies from 50 - 145 lbs.  The largest I have seen made a paw print about the size of my hand and his back would reach the height of the bottom of a car window.  You don't realize how tall the wolf is until you meet one eyeball to eyeball on a forest trail.

                                                                            Wolf Track

This week marks the one year anniversary of my most interesting wolf encounters.  The first one was on a Sunday morning when the wind chill was off the charts, -45 to -52 below zero.  The saying I most agree with is, "There is no bad weather in Minnesota, just bad clothing."  So, donning my Thinsulate predator gear, I ventured up my trail to check on my buddies the Red-breasted Nuthatches and chickadees.  I took up my post below the huge white pine on the corner of our property and the Superior National Forest.  The wind was roaring and sounded like a constant moving train; according to the new wind chill charts, it was between -45 and -52 below zero.  I stood there with my back to the wind, waiting for any birds to drop out of the trees to my seed filled hand.  In a few minutes, my feathered friend Norris landed in my hand.  He perched in my hand for many seconds, devouring hulled seeds, sheltered  from the wind by my body.  

I was startled by three deer bolting by me in different directions.  One ran directly at me, stopped and stared down the trail I just walked up.  It was a doe and she was standing in that locked, danger position, with her ears cupped forward, intently looking down the ridge.  I knew something other than the fierce wind had spooked her and the other deer.  I looked down the ridge and in the brush I saw a brown movement, for a split second I thought it might be another deer.  I didn't bring my binoculars with me because of the intense cold, plus I wasn't about to do my usual 3-6 hour stint in the forest.

To my surprise, it was a timber wolf standing on the trail I just walked up minutes ago.  His head would go down and most of his body disappeared behind a fallen tree.  There was so much brush between me and the wolf, it made it difficult to see what was going on.  When his head went down, I would step closer to the trail.  Finally I got back on the trail so I could see what he was doing.  I could tell he was off the trail struggling with something quite large.  I got my camera out of my parka and adjusted the telephoto lens and modes on the move.  It was difficult to photograph in the wind chill but I finally got in position to snap a photo of his head peering above a fallen tree.  The wolf gave a lurch behind the downed tree and pulled a deer out from behind it; he had killed a small doe right on my trail.

                                                                            Timber Wolf

I kept taking photos as long as I could stand having my gloves off.  I decided to try to get closer, since I had taken photos of what I could see in this position.  I knew he couldn't see me, hear me or get my scent because of the roaring cross wind.  I moved slowly and finally knelt to take some closer shots.  The wolf must of sensed my presence, because he moved out of the area in a slow trot.  He made a large semi circle below me and checked me out, finally leaving via the protection of the giant white cedars.

                                                                              Wolf Kill

Standing above the deer, it was hard to believe what one wolf could do in that short period of time.  I have seen the results of many deer kills, but never first hand and I had no idea how fast they could kill and eat a deer.

My hands were very cold, so I took a few photos of the carcass and went home to download the photos.  I didn't have a clue how they would turn out because of the conditions in which they were taken.

To my amazement, after downloading the photos, I saw the wolf had a collar.  Mary and I decided it was a radio transmitter collar attached to a live trapped wolf.  I immediately sent an email to the International Wolf Center in Ely, MN, telling them the story of my findings.

The next morning I went back to check on the carcass and found that it was completely devoured.  It looked like a herd of cattle had been tramping down the area.  The wolf or wolves had dragged the deer about twenty yards further east and dined at that spot.  The raven tracks were thick, I saw mice activity, fox and smaller bird tracks... probably the Canada Jays.

I paced off from where I had originally stood and it was 86 yards to where the wolf had killed the deer.  I walked back to the cedars to feed my bird friends.  When I was standing in almost the exact same spot as yesterday, I heard a bleating like a sheep... it was chilling.  I finally located the sound and with my binoculars, spotted a movement through the big cedars up the ridge.  A deer was struggling to get up out of the snow and was making the bleating sound.  It was quite unnerving and not a pretty sight.  The doe got up and started running, I could see the red blood over her hind quarter as she ran at an angle through the cedars.

Thirty seconds or so, two wolves came streaking out of the same area, a big gray and a smaller black morf... hot on the deer's trail.  

I knew it was not the wolf with the collar, because I recognized these two from earlier observations.  I checked my watch and slowly walked over to where I could pick up the blood trail.  I carry a .38 service revolver with me at all times, for the very purpose of having to put a deer out of it's misery. 

I found the tracks of the chase, but no blood.  I literally got down on my hands and knees, looking for minute spots of blood.  The subzero weather had coagulated the blood so fast the blood sign was tiny pin head spots of blood.  It took me one hour and eight minutes to find the deer.  In that time, the two wolves had eaten one whole side, plus the rib cage and took the head and neck with them.  It was still steaming when I found it and looked like a bomb had gone off.  I took a few photos and as I was leaving, two Canada Jays flew in and sat on a branch above the deer.  Nature had provided them with another food source for a long period of time.

It was hard to believe what two wolves had done to the deer in a little over one hour.  Plus carry away the neck and head for their future cashe.  I walked in a 50 yard circle and could not find a spot of blood or a "drag" trail of the neck and head.  If you have butchered a deer before, you know how heavy that scenario is.  One of them literally carried the remains away, without leaving so much of a hint of the load.  The big gray was indeed a formable specimen. 

                                           One hour and eight minutes after the kill  

The next day my pet buck was standing in our front yard, so I put on my jacket to feed him his corn treat.  I opened the door and he had disappeared; which was odd since he eats out of my hand.  Standing below our front yard was the big gray wolf and his black wolf companion was running west out of the valley.  Surprise is not the proper terminology  as I watched him turn and jauntily trot off after his mate.

                                                                       Wolf Hunting

I went into the house, cursing the fact I didn't have my camera hanging from my neck, and the phone rings.  It was a Dr. Michael Nelson from the Wolf Project (Kawishiwi Field Laboratory) Ely, MN calling.  the International Wolf Center had sent my email to him and he had questions about the wolf with the collar.  We talked for quite sometime about my wolf episodes and I sent him a photo of the collared wolf.  He called back a couple of more times and he told me they were missing a GPS collared wolf and he couldn't be sure if this one was it.  He thought it might be one they live trapped at Silver Island Lake in 2006, but he didn't know for sure.  He told me he would make some calls to other agencies that transmitted wolves.

I never found out if he was the Silver Island wolf, but Dr. Nelson provided some interesting dialogue and wolf knowledge.  He told me my wolf adventures are something not many people get a chance to observe. 

Later that day, I went up the ridge and saw one of the wolves above the second kill, it was a glimpse and that was it.  The kill area was completely void, only the stomach plant matter was left, which the wolves don't eat.  Not a bone, piece of hide visible anywhere... just a coating of blown hair drifting over the snow.

 

"Wolf is the Grand Teacher.  Wolf is the sage, who after many winters upon the sacred path and seeking the ways of wisdom, returns to share new knowledge with the tribe.  Wolf is both the radical and the traditional in the same breath.  When the Wolf walks by you - you will remember." ~ Robert Ghost Wolf