Life and Death at Fisherman's Point

Through the Lamar Valley of Yellowstone National Park, a road runs east-west more or less along a series of rivers.  It is along this road that we do most of our radio tracking and coyote observation.  At one pullout along this road is Fisherman's Point, where one can observe the coyote territories: Jasper Bench Pack territory to the south of the road and river, and the former territory Paradise Pack to the north.

The story of Paradise Pack is a sad one.  This winter, the wolves killed the alpha female of the pack, leaving only the alpha male, M361 and his yearling pup, Baby Alvin Warren.  We have a radio collar on M361, and ever since his mate died, he and his son have become drifters, sometimes completely disappearing from our study area.  Normally at this time of year, coyotes packs are tending to their young, striking out into their territory in the morning to collect food and bringing it back for their pups to eat.  We aren't sure what M361 and his single offspring are doing, without a breeding alpha female.

However, we saw M361 the other day sitting quietly next to a live bison calf.  The calf had been washed to Fisherman's Point in a river crossing and separated from its mother, and M361 was watching it patiently.  We watched, along with a crowd of other people.  Occassionally he would get up and stretch and once he nipped at the calf's butt for a bit.  As night fell and the crowd thinned out, M361 finally got up and took a hold of the calf's leg, moving up to its neck, brought it down and began feasting on the fresh carcass.

The next day when we came to see what remained of the carcass, we saw instead a coyote across the river.  She had something in her mouth and we followed her up the hill beyond the river to a group of rocks where three (or four) pups came out from behind the biggest rock to feed and nurse.  We had found Jasper Bench Pack's den!

Back in Montana

I've returned to Montana and life has hit me full on.  After I got back I tagged along for a ski trip in the mountains.  Western skiing, apparently is different from East Coast resort skiing.  You find the place in the rugged and abundant mountains in Montana and you just go.  Then you climb back up, catch your breath, and go again.  Man it is freeing.  And dangerous.  Besides the fact that the easiest slope was harder than most blacks on the east coast, there is the real threat of avalanches.  Most people who go to the harder areas wear beacons and often carry shovels.

(1) I borrowed various people's equipment, which all fit me, somewhat.  (2) Fresh avalanches.

I'm spending a week in Taiwan to attend my grandmother's funeral.  Maybe I'll write some stuff later, either about Yellowstone or Taiwan, but not now.  I don't know if it feels appropriate to put it in the same post.  Rest in peace, Grandma.

Things we do

I am getting more familiar with my weekly schedule.  On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, we track coyotes using antannae, travelling east or west across our study area and stopping at designated spots to check for signals.  We plot the direction of the signals on the map and record the triangles that intersecting bearings make on the landscape, which are presumably where the coyotes are.  On Tuesdays, we find a good spot and sit there, recording whatever coyote activity we may see or hear.  The activity I've witnessed has been sparse, limited to only a few minutes at a time in a two or three hour observation.  Sometimes we hear them yipping and howling, which we record as well.  

On Thursdays, we check for the three dispersed coyotes in the Blacktail/Gardiner Basin, which is outside of our normal study area.  This Thursday, we had the luck of spotting two of the coyotes we were tracking.  However, both of them were in bad shape.  This one, M234, used to be one of the biggest coyotes being studied.  But that day we saw him, he was gaunt and stiff legged, walking down the side of the road.  

Tourists slowed down to watch, and one car (background) began driving directly behind him, about 10 feet away, and a passenger got out and began walking and taking pictures.  I yelled at them to stop.  I have to admit though, I probably would do some of the same obnoxious things that we see tourists do here.

Thursdays are also supposed to be for observation as well, and after we got tired of that, we decided to walk out and find a den that had been raided by some wolves a week ago.  What had happened, according to some observers, was that the Druid Pack wolves had begun digging out the Specimen Pack den, as wolves often do to kill coyote pups, when a herd of bison

 moved into the area and chased out the wolves.  It was an interesting interaction since the bison essentially rescued Specimen Pack's litter, and nobody knew why.  

We knew that the pack would have quickly moved their litter to a spare den, and that the den would have been empty by now.  We walked up to it, and one intrepid intern stuck her head, nay her entire body, inside.  Then everyone else stuck their head inside, so I did it too.  Coyote dens are long and winding, up to 20 feet deep.  Their serptentine shape is designed to stop invaders like the Druid wolves.  The den was dry and musty smelling, and with my head in the entrance, I saw the tunnel wall directly in front of me, since the passage made an immediate turn or fork.  But the den was empty and quiet.  We poked around the site for a little longer and then headed back to the car.

As we walked back, thunder rolled in the distance, and in the characteristic Yellowstone fashion, the weather changed quickly and dramatically.  It was raining little balls of fluffy ice resembling Dippin Dots, which the locals call gropple.

My First Coyote

Today I spotted my first coyote.  It makes me feel much better now, because before I felt like I was pretty useless being unable to find coyotes during observations. 

This morning in another observation, our site was approached by a bear.  Everyone was pretty excited, and we eventually had to leave the area because it was too close (100 yards).  It was amazing to see the bear so close and kind of disarming to watch it graze on grass.  The bear gave us a hint of its ferocity when it stood up to look at us and whe

n we saw its 5-inch long claws.  It just kept coming so we had to get out of there really fast.  We had our bearspray ready the whole time.  This has been my closest encounter with a bear, only 5 days into the job.  So far every day at Yellowstone, I've been able to see a grizzly bear, and the season is just starting.  I really hope I don't have any dangerous encounters.

Oh and this was pretty interesting.  This elk died this winter.