Summer Wind

There are portions of the Firehole river that race down from its confluence with the Madison and Gibbon rivers to tumble over the Firehole falls and through the Firehole canyon. At this point it’s a boisterous, tumultuous river, roaring with exuberance as it crashes over rocks, slams around high walled bends in the canyon, and sends its white frothed waters dancing into the air. Finally it makes its way through the Firehole Cascades and begins to widen and slow down and rest for awhile.

As it enters the Fountain Flats area very near the Mount Mary/Nez Perce trail it becomes an entirely different river. It’s wider, slower, often attaining a mirror like surface reflecting the pines that line its banks, with nothing to break its surface but the occasional trout rising to take a Stonefly or White Miller Caddis. Osprey take advantage of its crystal clarity to swoop down and grab its daily meal sending widening ripples outward until gradually the river returns to its quiet flow.

It is here that a pair of Trumpeter swans took residence one late spring choosing this quiet stretch of river to mate and feed and make it their home, at least for the summer. They slowly cruised up and down the still waters, gently feeding along the banks and seining the river bottom with their large webbed feet to bring the insects and other choice bits to the surface.

One warm summer day the breezes that blew up and down the river causing ripples and swirls and little wavelets to spread across the river’s surface, disturbing its normal mirror like surface, found one of the swans standing on the bank. It wasn’t a strong breeze but it was enough to stir something in the swan. A memory of past flights perhaps, or a reminder of changes to come, it called to the swan and it spread its wings and raised itself high to catch every delicious bit of the breeze ruffling its feathers. Most likely reminding it of the journey it and its mate would soon be taking as the summer wind changed to fall. The call to them to begin that journey to their winter home too strong to ignore. That will come later, for now it can bask in the sun and take delight in the wonder and warmth of the summer wind.

Equipment Failure

Yellowstone National Park Sept 2005

In any sport one has to have the right equipment and keep that equipment in tip top shape. If you’re a pole vaulter and you use a flimsy made in a third world country pole, and it snaps when you’re making your best run at the Tokyo Olympics you’re not going to get a medal. If you’re a shot putter and your shot is made of Unliftanium from one of the Baltic countries and you can’t even lift if off the ground let alone heave it anywhere, you’re going to look dumb and be laughed at by those with better equipment. This is important in the game of life.

What you see above is a contestant in the annual “Rut” or how you get babes in the Elk world, held every year to decide the mating rights among these large and very belligerent ungulates. As you have no doubt seen on any of the nature shows these male Elk fight with each other to claim and acquire the most cow elk in their harems. Because they’re big and strong and have large, but huge antlers, the cow elk desire to be obtained by the largest and strongest bull. Thus making him the winner. However many battles need to be fought and the tides of victory and cow elk accumulation ebb and flow throughout the season.

One thing remains constant however and that is they must maintain their equipment in perfect order. In this case this poor fellow had a disastrous mishap that cost him his left antler. He went in to a contest with another bull who snapped it right off during the attack, thus ending the battle, his opponents ability to proceed in the contest, and his chances of getting lucky in the mating game. It is unknown if the substandard equipment was a poor choice by the contestant, a genetic failure, or why the antler failed. Maybe it was just nature’s way of saying “Nope, you’re done. No cows for you.” In any case no other bull would fight with him. It was the Bull Code where the bulls would only fight another bull that was as big and strong enough as they were so that a win would impress the cows.

The moral of this story is if you want to win keep your antlers in good shape. Don’t be losing one or it’s game over. Maybe next year will be better for this guy.

Dancing In The Dust

Buffalo – Yellowstone National Park – Click for larger view

It’s summer and the the young buffalo are feeling itchy and out of sorts. Something’s coming up, they can feel it but don’t know what it is. All they know is they have to run around, and buck, and spin, and fall to their knees. Pushing their snouts in to the fresh dirt they’ve stirred up, and using their horns to tear up the ground is also on tap. If one of their herd mates is close by they might try and goad them into a sparring match but nothing too serious. The time for the real fighting is still a couple of months away. It’s the prelude to the Rut and these first timers are just at the mercy of their hormones.

The Rut is the breeding season for the buffalo and it is the largest event in their lives. The urge to breed is totally consuming and will occupy their time with fighting, chasing willing and unwilling cows, bellowing, kicking up dirt and dust and generally being swept up in the compulsive nature of their lives. This young buffalo used an old wallow as the center point of his frustration and danced and ran in circles around it and thru it and put on a spectacle that lasted until it was exhausted and finally collapsed to rest. To the observer it was dancing in the dust and for a large animal it was surprisingly graceful.

September Along the Madison

Sunlit Grass – Cow Elk – Along the Madison River – Yellowstone

September in Yellowstone Park is a special time of the year, especially early September. The Rut is still some weeks away yet, the calves are big enough that they’re basically taking care of themselves, and during the hot afternoons the wolves are usually sleeping back at their dens waiting for the cool of the evening before setting out to see what bounty is available. It’s a rare moment for the cows to take a little time for themselves.

This particular cow had found a spot on a small island in the middle of the Madison river and taking advantage of the tall, golden grass covering it, has settled down for some time in the sun. A haven of relative safety she can let her guard down slightly in a rare moment of solitude. The heat of the afternoon, the absence of any breeze, the buzz of the occasional insect, plus the quiet murmuring of the river as it slowly made its way downstream was enough to allow her to recharge and get set for whatever Nature has in store for her. It’s September along the Madison.

The Mob

Immature Bald Eagle and Ravens – Elk Cracass – Yellowstone National Park

The Cascade wolf pack dropped a cow elk out on the meadow floor last night. The herd was hurrying to cross the open space under the light of a full moon, nervous as they sunk to their knees in the snow because they knew they were vulnerable out here. The young cow wasn’t paying close enough attention and had gotten too far out from the herd and the pack made quick work of her. The snow wasn’t all that deep but it was deep enough to hinder her flight. They fed for a while then headed back to the den area with the promise that they’d be back in the morning to make a proper job of it.

But secrets don’t keep long amongst the neighbors when it’s cold and blustery and everybody’s got to eat. As always the first to visit the carcass are the Ravens. They have a sixth sense about the dead and dying so they are on the scene almost as soon as it happens. Even with their terrible sharp bills they have a tough time cracking into the frozen hide and unless the wolves left them a good entry point they don’t make much progress getting started.

It takes a real powerhouse to get the ball rolling and an immature Bald Eagle can easily do it. With its formidable hooked beak and powerful muscles in its neck and legs, all it needs to do is get settled by sinking its long talons into the carcass and using the leverage of its body to start slicing open the hide as if it were a surgeon wielding his scalpel. In just moments it has opened up a sizable fissure in the hide and can commence feeding.

This comes as both good news and bad news for the ravens. The good news being now they can start feeding. The bad news however, is the eagle doesn’t like to share. It won’t allow any other bird to join in until it is has fed until it can hardly hop. Ravens are incredibly intelligent creatures while the eagle has the IQ of a four slice toaster. As eagles get along perfectly well with the intellect nature has given them, they’re just not in the same league as the ravens when it comes to subterfuge. Consequently the ravens have to come up with a good plan to outsmart and drive the eagle off if they want to eat before the wolves come back. They can’t physically attack the eagle with brute strength as they’re about 1/5th the size of the eagle, and if the eagle ever gets a talon into one of the ravens it’s all over for the raven. But as a mob they can use their avian cunning to confront the eagle by mock challenging it face to face while the others sneak in and grab its tail feathers or its primary feathers and try and jerk them out. Or use their own sharp bills to strike the eagle anywhere it’s undefended. This makes the eagle absolutely nuts. The eagle will swirl and turn and lash out in an attempt to the grab a raven but they’re just too nimble and before long the eagle is driven to a frenzy and takes off. The ravens prevail.

Having vanquished the eagle they feed as quickly as possibly keeping a keen eye out for the wolves. Even tho a lot of crows are called a “Murder” of crows they’re still a mob and they act like one, using the strength of numbers to get their way. This strategy doesn’t work with the wolves. They will eat ravens as well as elk if they can catch them and often they do.

The Hitchhiker

Early Spring in Yellowstone

It’s early spring in Yellowstone, actually it’s nearly the end of the month and where the rest of the country is looking at early flowers and sunshine, up here it’s cold, the snow keeps falling and food is hard to find.

This grizzly and her cub are up early and looking for supper. Problem is there isn’t much in the way of food right now. Snow covers everything and the ground is still frozen so digging for ground squirrels isn’t on the menu yet. Hopefully there’ll be some winter kill around. A nice frozen buffalo that didn’t make it through the winter would be welcome. Anything dead at all in fact would be welcome, she’s hungry and the cub needs its milk so she’s got to get something going in the way of sustenance.

The cub doesn’t know quite what to make of all this white stuff or the cold for that matter. It’s been snuggling with mom for so long that it’s a real shock to discover cold paws. Luckily mom has been through this all before and doesn’t mind the cub’s climbing aboard to get out of the cold wet snow.

As this is the very end of May, tomorrow will likely bring bright sunshine, rapidly melting snow and food. There’s edible grass under the snow, and on the southern side of the hillsides the ground is warm enough that she can dig out some unlucky ground squirrels, and the cub will be off her back and scrambling around discovering it’s new life out of the den. No need to hitchhike anymore.

Old No. 6

Old No. 6 – Bull Elk – Yellowstone National Park
Memories of an old friend

I was wandering thru my wildlife portfolio when I happened across an old friend. Old No. 6 as he was known by one and all was a huge bull elk that frequented the area around the Mammoth Hotel in Yellowstone National Park. If you have ever visited Yellowstone in the Fall and seen all of the elk that wander freely about near the hotel and headquarters area you would have seen Old No. 6 majestically parading around the edges of the herd, striding through the collected cows with his incredible span of antlers held high as if he owned them, which he did by the way. At least until the Rut, the mating season, was over

He was magnificent in every way. Over 700 lbs. of pure ornery not to be interred with prime Yellowstone bull, he brooked no interference by man or beast at the best of times. At the worst of times everyone was advised to run away. Quickly and Far. Many times if he simply saw you, standing around daring to make eye contact, you were considered interference and he would try to convince you of the errors of your ways. Several eager but soon to be regretful tourists suffered a series of perforations at the ends of those needle sharp antler points and had to be treated for those wounds quickly lest they expire. As far as can be determined there were no fatalities due to confronting Old No. 6. but then they haven’t searched everywhere.

One of Old No. 6’s idiosyncrasies was to charge and attempt to fatally wound any vehicle that he deemed to be too close to his cows and calves. There were a certain number of body shops around the U.S. that owed a portion of their revenue to Old No. 6 for the holes in the body panels of the vehicles brought to them for repairs after a run in with cantankerous old No. 6. After a while he got famous enough for his bad behavior and intolerance of fools that the prestigious BBC and others came to immortalize him on film. Sadly he received no remuneration for his stardom which may have added to his curmudgeonly behavior.

Several times his behavior became so intemperate that the Park Rangers had to tranquilize him and saw off his antlers to prevent further mayhem. This event didn’t injure him in any way other than to make him even more furious but in an impotent way. It’s difficult to maintain your rep as the baddest bull out there when you have no antlers. This did little to change his attitude but it did slow down the ambulance rides and body work necessary after one of his tirades. But beyond that troublesome little fact of his anti-social demonstrations he was loved by the millions that saw him. Whenever he decided to take a break he would be immediately surrounded by the local Elkeratzzi who would take his picture. One of which was yours truly who is solely responsible for the image above. Now that he’s gone I’m glad that I took it. If he had seen it I think he would be pleased to be presented as a quiet, kindly soul, just taking a break from living life on his terms.