Trail Time – Wolves
If you didn’t know any better, you might think that it is spring on the Gunflint Trail. The snow — what little there is — is melting fast in the sun, forming icy slicks wherever footsteps or tires have gone before; in the woods, the sun hits the trees, stumps and rocks, widening the melted circles around them, islands in the snow. It feels like late March four weeks early.
Not too long ago, solid ice coated the branches and limbs of the trees so they clacked as they swayed in the wind and the broken ice fell crashing in the woods. Now the sound of melting, of dripping and snow slumping off roofs interrupts the serene quiet of the late winter woods.
I am not complaining; far from it. I love the fact that I can get dressed to go outside in 5 minutes instead of 20; that if I guess the weather wrong in terms of my choice of gear, it won’t be immediately dangerous. Is it the New Englander in me that doesn’t totally enjoy this weather? That distrusts it? “I know you’re pleasant now, my inner voice says to Mother Nature, but what have you got in store for us?”
I have a feeling we are going to get mountains of snow in March and April. And I hope we do, for the sake of the woods. I don’t like the idea of a dry spring and the May 5th, 2007 Ham Lake fire is the reason. I wasn’t here then when the Gunflint Trail was evacuated, but I watched from a distance and I heard the stories up close from residents and firefighters. I was here for the pre-evacuation of 2021 with the John Eck fire and the closing of the Boundary Waters. It was in the spring of that year that we had installed our sprinkler system. I remember a time that summer when we ran the sprinklers every night, emptying many propane tanks in the process.
But I am getting ahead of myself. It is springlike today, we do have some snow and some sun and now is the time for moose shed hunting, when the fallen antlers contrast with the white winter landscape. I have found exactly none, yet I persevere. I did get some advice from an old woodsman, that if I find an antler, I should circle around it in a pattern looking for the second one, since moose do not like walking with one antler — it makes them out of balance — so they try to get rid of the second one soon after the first has fallen.
I search for sheds every year — Lars thinks I’m a bit nuts about it, but I love being in the woods and I really love being in the woods with a purpose. Last week I was in Wisconsin, listening in as a friend met with the permit guy and a logger to talk about a project in her woods. Another friend came by and said to me, “Isn’t it a great day to stand around in the woods?!” I agreed. I love to stand around in the woods.
When you have a purpose, though, it changes the outlook and the perception of things — it’s like the difference between hiking and hunting. You can enjoy the woods either way, of course, but when you’re hunting, you can feel everything sharpen — sight, hearing — and you walk more carefully.
And there are good reasons for additional care on the Gunflint Trail if you have a pet. Lately there have been many nearby wolf sightings, more than has been usual for the last few years, at least by my reckoning. Their tracks are all around the cabin, almost daily there are fresh ones; and in the woods and on the shoulders of the roads where there is fresh snow. Two big dogs were killed — one for sure by wolves — on the Gunflint Trail this winter, so my caution is heightened when I’m out walking with Ursa, my dog. We both scan the woods, check the ridges, stop and listen. The funny things is, the wolves could be around us all the time; I wouldn’t know. Their coloring helps them disappear into the woods easily.
But Ursa knows when they’re around and her hackles rise when we encounter fresh tracks; she freaks out big time when she sees one and makes strange noises that she saves for the occasion. I know she can hear them howling when I cannot. How does one live when a wolf is on your doorstep?
Carefully, if you have a pet. Wolves and humans (and moose and ravens and fox and bear) have been living nearby one another on the same planet for millennia, so as a species we do know how. Within the last 100 years the wolf plan has swung wildly between extermination and conservation. And it is still swinging. I walk as carefully into this topic as I do in the woods.
The care that Lars and I take is this: we stop feeding the birds, especially suet cakes. We leave zero food or trash outside. We have our dog on a leash after dark; we don’t let her go out alone. My heart just hurts when I think about the dog owners who lost their dear pets this year. Really, it could happen to any of us. If you live up here, you have to come to terms with the fact that your pet might get et and live accordingly. It is one of many risks we weighed when we decided to live here. Living in this beautiful place doesn’t mean you won’t taste tears ever again.
A stranger to our area asked me recently if she could pet a wolf. Did I think she could try? I was speechless, breathless, for a moment and then I explained that wolves are wild animals, hence unpredictable. Though it’s almost unheard of for a wolf to attack a human, it’s not outside the realm of possibility and did she want to be the one to add to the statistics? And if she were to get friendly with a wolf and the next human who came along had destruction on their mind, she could be putting that animal at risk. For the sake of the animal, I said, don’t befriend it. It is better for them to be afraid of humans, or at least leery.
There are wolves here. There have always been wolves here and I hope that there will be wolves here forever.
