Tag Archives: grizzlies

Buffalo Spawn

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Boy oh boy oh boy are we here at *The Institute excited. It’s Spring and time for one of the greatest, if not the most unlikely, spectacles ever to occur in Nature. We’re talking about the Buffalo Spawn that happens every April along the Firehole river in Yellowstone National Park. This phenomenon was first discovered several years ago by one of our free range wildlife photographers working on a separate project in Yellowstone and we have been fortunate to document this amazing process ever since.

The Institute, as has been noted many times in the past, has many ongoing projects underway at all times and the one our photographer was working on at the time this spawning phenomenon was noted, was a study on why river banks are just wide enough to accommodate the water that flowed through them and no wider, when he noticed strange behavior in the buffalo herds. The buffalo began gathering at the riverside jostling and shoving each other until they began to frantically enter the water and begin moving up-stream. Sometimes singly or in pairs, cows and bulls alike struggled upstream against the current in a single-minded desire to reach the shallows at the headwaters of the river to begin their spawning.

No obstacle was too great to keep them from moving ever upstream, clamoring over rocks and boulders, leaping mightily up water falls, their coats and horns glistening in the sun as they swam exhaustedly against the raging current, struggling until they reached that final tributary where they had been created many years ago. There under the light of a full moon the cows released their eggs and the bulls their sperm and as the river slowly allowed fertilization the eggs containing the new buffalos began to tumble downstream through rapids and wide gentle bends until catching up against a snag lying across the  stream, or a pebble bed where they could sink into safety amongst the stones and germinate, the eggs rested, began to grow, and thereby begin a new generation of buffalo.

Life is never a sure thing here in Yellowstone and the eggs were at constant risk of being found and devoured by predators. Wolves hungry as only wolves can be searched constantly along the riverbanks looking for egg clusters that had attached to rocks or plants along the shore and finding them, greedily devoured them for the protein that future young buffalo calves could provide them while in their embryonic state.

 Grizzlies could be seen out in the middle of the river casually turning over great snags, the remains of giant trees that had fallen into the river to float downstream until they lodged themselves in the shallows and found a permanent home. Ripping the snags apart with their tremendously strong forearms and sharp claws, the egg clusters of the new buffalo generation were easy pickings for the mammoth beasts to find and consume.

But life always finds a way. And many of the eggs escaped detection and over time developed into their next phase of development which of course is the ‘buffpole’ stage where they began to grow their little hooves and tails and assume the shape we recognize as ‘Buffalo’. By now they had been fed steadily by the nutrients in the river and were beginning to break free from the egg sack that had enveloped them. If the light was just right these small fry could be seen forming little groups or herds, galloping from one place of safety in the water to another, gaining strength and nimbleness needed to leave the confines of the river and move on to land to begin their new lives as the Giants of the Plains, the buffalo.

Once established on land the new young buffalo, now known as ‘calves’, would be adopted by an adult female or ‘cow’ and be nursed and shown how to graze. They grew rapidly and were now totally independent of the river from which they formed. Yet you can still see some remnants of the behavior established in their early stages, such as when they gather in large groups or ‘herds’ and run thundering from one place to another for no apparent reason. This is a hold over from their schooling behavior when they were freshly formed fry in the river, and now it has become established as part of their genetic behavior on the land.

If you want to observe this spawning behavior of the buffalo you must hurry to Yellowstone because it doesn’t last long. Once it starts the buffalo are tireless in their obsession to get upstream and complete the spawning process that ensures that the new herd will be replenished. It is often over before you arrive, in fact if you are reading this now in May, you’ve already missed it. Sorry, but we can assure you that it does happen as proven by the huge number of buffalo seen grazing in the vast meadows of Yellowstone National park. After all where else could they have come from.

* Note: For those of you unfamiliar with The Institute and what it does, please see the page labeled The Institute on the Menu Bar above. That should explain everything. You shouldn’t have one single question remaining regarding The Institute after reading it. None. For those of you favored few who already know about the Institute, Nevermind. Return to your daily activities. Thank you for your support.

The Day The Color Stopped

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Running a national park is very expensive, like astronomically expensive, and Yellowstone is the most expensive of all our great parks to operate. It takes mammoth amounts of tax dollars every day just to keep the lights on. I’ve heard people say “Yeah, so what’s so expensive then. You got a main gate with some ticket booths, a couple of buildings scattered around and a few guys in ranger suits driving around in prius’s. I don’t get it.”

What these misguided folks don’t know is that there is more to running a park than ticket booths and prius’s and that deep in the wilderness off behind Virginia cascade, there is a huge complex that is the very heart of Yellowstone. You’ve seen these innocent appearing roads marked Service Road Do not Enter as you drive around the park. Where did you think they went? They all lead back to this complex discretely called Main Park Services. There are buildings above ground and buildings below ground that control every aspect of the park. It is a huge undertaking and responsibility.

There are huge pumping stations that power all the rivers in the park, from the slow-moving Madison to the raging torrent of Yellowstone falls. You didn’t think these rivers flowed by themselves did you. There are turbine barns that house giant fans that create the wind throughout the park. They are large enough to create the maelstrom of straight line winds that cause the massive blow downs of thousands of trees you see everywhere, yet gentle enough to keep the golden grass of the Lamar valley waving peacefully as you drive by.

There is a separate building that only houses the IT department for the park. Hundreds of backwoods nerds drink coffee by the boatload and keep the computers running so that everything looks normal for the millions of visitors that pass through the park yearly. They have a division that does nothing but make employee name tags 24 hours a day. They create the schedules that designate where all the wildlife in the park needs to be at a given time on a given day. Just keeping track of all the widgeons and Harlequin ducks takes a full-time employee. And that doesn’t even begin to explore HR and payroll.

One of the most important functions of this complex and one that keeps a team of full-time Engineers busy night and day is maintaining the system of Shock Absorbers that keep the park geologically stable and maintains its ability to dampen the effect of the near daily earthquakes that plague the park. Buried deep within the earth are a series of hydraulically manipulated cavities approximately 1 1/2 miles wide and 2 miles deep lined with a complex material woven out of Teflon, cobalt and spider silk that are filled with 10w-30 motor oil. These huge bladders occupy about 2/3’s of the cavity and when an earthquake occurs they have the ability to swell up and absorb the energy through compression. This keeps the surface of the park from the heaving that causes road and structure damage. This is a key system to operating the park safely and cannot under any circumstances go all wonky of a sudden.

Another system that is very important, not just for keeping the visitors of the park safe, but more for their emotional welfare is the C L T C system (Chroma, Luminosity, Tonality and Intensity).This is the heart of the parks color generating ability and is crucial in keeping the attendance level up in the park. No color no visitors. It’s as simple as that. People will put up with 6 point earthquakes, long lines at the restrooms, snafus in scheduling the wolf packs but screw with the color and that’s that. They’re gone.

Huge color projectors are running constantly generating all the hues you see as you travel through the park. The sunsets over the Firehole river where it meets the Madison, the burnt orange of the newly hatched buffalo calf, the flicker of blue as a Stellar Jay flits from one branch to another, all of these are as important to the visitors as the earthquake dampening system. Without the color all you have is a park that looks like a 1940’s B&W film of Czechoslovakia except with hills and grizzlies.

Which is why, when we had the day the color stopped, it was so catastrophic. It all started innocently enough. People were lined up at the overlooks at the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone taking in the massive array of colors as they gazed at the multi-hued canyon walls. The impossible blending of every color you can imagine in a symphony of never-ending harmony that stretched for as far as you could see. What they didn’t see was the little relay switch on the main color projector blow with a small quickly dispersing cloud of smoke. Which led to an insufficient amount of power getting to the main bulb which suddenly flickered and died. Without the input from the bulb the CLTC system began to fail and the overload took out the backup system and color began to drain out of the Grand Canyon of The Yellowstone.

This had never happened before and soon people’s’ worst nature came to the surface. There was pushing and shoving, and instances of someone nearly going over the edge as the crowd stampeded for their cars. Children were crying, their arms outstretched waiting for someone to pick them up in a safe embrace, but the lack of color had the crowd panicking. They had only one thought in their minds. They had paid 50 bucks to get in and there was nothing to see. Fortunately there were no fatalities but it was only dumb luck that prevented them.

Yes, it was a terrible day, the day the color stopped, but the selfless employees at the complex did what it took to rectify the situation. A new bulb was slapped in, the CLTC system was rebooted and the little relay switch was replaced. Within hours the situation was back to normal. Yes there were a few people who left and felt they had wasted their 50 bucks, but those who had faith in the system were rewarded for their patience and loyalty with an extraordinary display of the colors of the Canyon that only a new bulb in the projector could provide.

We have provided an image from that fateful moment as the color began to drain out of canyon and you can see how depressing and mood altering this was for the spectators. It wasn’t long after this image was taken that the color completed drained out and flowed down the river lost forever. We have images of that too, but cannot in good consciousness show them to you.

The next time you visit Yellowstone National park and you feel the ground shake slightly, or see the rivers running freely, or notice the incredible beauty that color lends to the scenery you might think of that hidden complex called the Main Park Services and be thankful that the park is up and running as usual. I know I do.

A Little Open Space

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Some of you around the country have been thinking of writing in to complain about the weather and how you’ve been feeling confined and when’s it going to stop, etc., like I would know, and I sense your frustration. And as one of our great, but impeached, political leaders once said, “I feel your pain.”

Consequentially I have chosen to give you a little open space this morning. I know a lot of you have been cooped up and can’t get out doors to do the simplest things, like dump your litter box, or see if you can find your car under all that snow, or get away from that significant other who has been singing “The Spirit of New Orleans” for the last three days. It seems like a little relief is needed.

So OK then, rather than look for the shells for the 12 gauge, take a moment and reflect on this image of the north end of the Lamar valley looking up at Barronette Peak. Take a deep breath and smell the clean cool air of an early fall afternoon. The sun still has some warmth left and it feels good on your back. The grass, though yellowed and dry for the most part, still has enough life in it that the grazers can graze, and way off down there, past the drainage of Soda Butte creek, a small group of buffalo are settling in.

You have the whole place to yourself today because it’s too far North for the tourist busses to come and everyone else is down in the Hayden or over at Swan Lake flats looking for grizzlies before they head uphill for the winter. The grizzlies not the tourists. The tourists will be heading back to the Holiday Inn in West Yellowstone before it gets dark and scary out here.

If you wanted too, you could take off and just walk straight towards the mountains as long as you wanted to, just remember you have to walk back, so maybe just sitting on the boulder there and finishing off your thermos would be enough.

Well we all know that this isn’t as good as the real thing but hey, it’s better than listening to you know who sing. And as long as we’re on that subject, after you’ve had your fill of whatever serenity you can muster from viewing this special part of Yellowstone National Park, why don’t you go and tell you know who that you’ll let him out of the basement if he promises to stop singing. Maybe even show him this picture and fix him a nice hot cup of tea, and if that doesn’t work the shells for the shotgun are on the top shelf in the hall closet behind the Christmas decorations. Good luck.

The Tourists Are Coming, The Tourists Are Coming

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Every day here in Yellowstone about a quarter after six to around seven-thirty in the morning the local Osprey are charged with traveling up and down the rivers, as Town Fliers if you will, letting the other residents know that the tourists have been sighted and are on their way in. So everyone needs to look sharp and assume their usual positions along the banks doing what ever they do.

The elk will come down to wade in the water and pose as the first bus pulls up. The tourists all pile out amidst much shouting and gesturing, camera shutters blazing. On the days they are scheduled, the lone wolf on duty will lurk convincingly in the underbrush so it can suddenly appear for its photo-op, then move up-stream a half mile or so for its next appearance. This is just one of the many services provided by our nation’s premier national park.

There was a time not too long ago when all the animals had to punch in, get their assignments and go to work putting in their 12 to 14 hours a day. That was back in the mid 70’s, early 80’s when the parks ran a much tighter ship. However it made for a less spontaneous show and the tourists began to complain saying if they wanted a ‘show’ they’d go to SeaWorld or somewhere where they did a lot more stuff in a shorter period of time. New management was brought in that adopted a less rigorous style of running the park and although the various animals still had responsibilities they were left to their own devices as to how they wished to portray themselves.

This resulted in a much more relaxed, natural appearing park and the public loved it. It wasn’t long before the grizzlies were added and the occasional interaction between bear and human just added to the unexpected excitement as word spread that if you were lucky you could see a bear take down the occasional unwary tourist and drag it off into the bush. This was great stuff and before long the park was nearly over run by tourists wanting the ultimate spectacle. Fortunately for the targeted tourists this didn’t happen all the time so it became almost like playing lotto. If you were extremely lucky you might get to see it, screams, broken camera straps, the whole works. Repeat visits to the park became the norm and didn’t diminish in the least when the park raised its entrance fees. In fact it added an expectation that due to the higher costs you might be more likely to see the ‘big event’ and everyone wanted to be on The Bus that had the guy that got eaten by the grizzly bear.

Under these new wildlife management policies, the elk were left to battle it out during the rut rather than having to attend anger management classes, the wolf packs were allowed to consume a lot of those brand new buffalo calves without having to always stop and apologize, and the buffalo were just left alone period. They wouldn’t do anything they were asked to do anyway.

But as was mentioned previously, all of this activity starts every morning with the Town Fliers doing their part, flying up and down the Firehole and the Gibbon, the Madison and the Yellowstone, the Gardiner and the Lamar, Soda butte creek, Crawfish creek, Slough creek, Fall river and the Lewis and of course the Snake. Each river has it resident Osprey whose main duty of the day is to fly the rivers and lakes and call, “The Tourists Are Coming, The Tourists Are Coming”, as soon as they’re spotted so Yellowstone can start a new day.

Marooned!

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Marooned9280Grizzly Yellowstone                        click to enlarge

Piracy! You don’t often associate it with Yellowstone National park but it is a little known fact that piracy is still practiced along the Yellowstone river today. On nights when the moon is full and thin clouds scud along the mountains tops you can often see a shadowy silhouette of a three-masted East Indiaman turned pirate ship, tacking into the wind as it glides down the Yellowstone looking for a rich merchantman to capture.

This particular ship has been renamed the Quedagh Merchant after Captain Kidd’s famed fighting ship in the hopes that it would bring its present crew good fortune and large prizes. Swag and booty for all and the pleasure of the chase was their goal and the crew was constantly on the lookout for the next conquest.

As this was a large ship being 171′ long and 30′ wide with nearly 10,000 square feet of sail it took a crew of large, burly sailors to handle her. The only creatures big enough in Yellowstone to sail her was a crew of the largest, meanest, most foul-tempered grizzlies that could be found along the banks of Yellowstone river. She sailed with a skeleton crew because try as they might they could never bring her up to a full complement of crew members. Being constantly short-pawed as it were, every sailor mattered, as the success of their ventures was decided by whether or not they could muster enough fighting bears to overpower the ships they attacked.

The Captain of this vessel was a terrifying giant of a bear known by the name of Captain Rend. Weighing close to 1200 lbs. and standing 11′ tall at the shoulder, armed with five razor-sharp claws on each front paw and a willingness to use them without hesitation, he was perfectly suited to command this vessel and her unruly crew. He demanded absolute and total obedience at all times and the slightest infraction was met with immediate punishment, swift and brutal. This could range from denying the accused his share of the swag and booty, to being subject to 10 swipes of the captains claws across their hairy backs. Keelhauling, which is the dragging of the condemned under the ship by a rope tied to the front and back legs, a favorite pirate punishment, was not possible on the Quedagh Merchant due to the shallowness of the river and the effort it took to drag a 800-900 Ib. bear under the ship. These sailors were strong but even they had their limits.

A sailors greatest fear however weren’t the punishments mentioned above for there was a far worse fate that could happen to him. Something they feared above all else, and that was marooning. Marooning was the act of being left alone on a deserted island without food or water until the condemned perished alone in agony and despair. It was one of the only ways, beside personal combat, to keep a gang of murderous wretches in line and so it was used, but sparingly. You had to do something pretty disreputable to get marooned. But what we have here is a pretty disreputable bear.

Named Astonishment Jones because of the look he got on his face whenever he was accused or caught doing something wrong, he finally stepped over the line, his crime, sneaking down into the hold and guzzling what was left of their meager store of rum. The Captain had absolutely no patience or mercy left for a pirate that would steal from his fellow shipmates. He ordered him marooned at the next island they came to. Put ashore on this little isolated island in the middle of the vast Yellowstone river with just enough food to give him time to reflect on his fate, he watched in astonishment as the ship slowly vanished into the evening mists, his former crewmates flashing their claws and growling curses at him, before disappearing into the night.

We’re not certain whether he remained there until the end, or if he was picked up by another ship passing by, or if he decided it was better to just attempt the long swim towards shore in the hopes that he could make it before he lost his strength and drowned. As of this time the fate of Astonishment Jones is unknown, but what is known, is that on a dark night when the moon is full you can see a great ship, manned by a crew of blood-thirsty grizzlies, climbing the masts to unfurl the sails, hauling on lines, their deep throated chants floating across the still water, sailing majestically down the Yellowstone river on the hunt for its next victim. A rich merchantman perhaps, or a sloop carrying a full cargo of buffalo parts to the market where the river and Yellowstone lake join, or even the unwary kayaker, caught out alone, who didn’t believe in the Pirates of the Yellowstone river.