A Farewell to Arms

Where giants have walked, apparently

Well, my field season is finally over. This was the last year of this incarnation of the Bear DNA project round these parts, and we had a good run, but the end was bittersweet. Taking down all of the barbed wire and nails and such from trees in which they've been embedded in for four years necessitated semi-Herculean efforts.

And also sound effects. A whole lot of sound effects. And talking to those trees. And yourself. And cursing all things metal. And cursing the very tall people who put the tags in too high. And cursing the trees themselves, but then feeling really guilty and taking back those particular curses, and putting a bare palm against the sticky, hairy truck and apologizing.


A person walking down the trail blindfolded may have thought one of many things:

(1) that an Olympic dead-weight lifter had moved to the area to train;

(2) that James Brown was back from the dead and enjoying more rustic huh-hahs;

(3) that George Carlin was back from the dead and testing new cussing combinations;

(4) that a sadistic dentist was administering a root canal (just relax, help me, help you...):

or (5), that a deeply conflicted Smeagol was waging a schizophrenic war of morality...
(f*#k you!...I'm sorry...dammit!...it's okay...arrghgh!...sorry, sorry, sorry)...

In short, the whole process turned each of us into a bit of a weirdo.

Cleaning up the forest

Meanwhile, such efforts worked their physical magic on our bodies... making us that much more tired at the end of the day. Our arms, so accustomed to hanging uselessly at our sides all summer, were finally called to... um, arms... as it were. They got all strong. They developed lines and bulges we'd never seen before. They lead us to delusions of grandeur--mainly day dreams of careers in arm-wrestling or can-crushing or ripping off doorknobs for fun. But we asked too much of the poor lazy things. They got tired, weak. They began to rebel... went numb while we slept, hands curling into clawed shapes. They started to seriously complain when lifted above chest-level. They did not want to help remove so much sap from our hair. They started talking to our knees, who got all cranky again, and began to imitate crumpled cellophane and creaky stairs and Rice Krispies freshly doused in milk.

Then the weather got in on the torment. Snow then rain then slush then rain then snow. 60 mile and hour wind gusts pushing us backward, tearing maps from our hands, and slamming car doors with authority. Cold air freezing our shoes and toes and fingers and noses. All of it briskly escorting us out of the woods. Call it a night, folks. And then we were done.

And while a week later I am still enjoying the fact that the decision to venture out into the wintry mix is now optional, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it already. I guess I'll be seeing you around, bears. Enjoy your long nap. I think I'll have one too.

Winter Is Coming

The Starks were right.

And I heard from the trees a great parade

All things go, all things go

Be still and know your sign

I'll put you right in it, I'll show you the sky

Dreamlike, on account of that frosting

The sweet delights of a wild funnel cake

If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients

And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines

Figure an hour in for thawing out frozen shoes

Hunting Season is Upon Us

Bad News Bears

As you may or may not know, I am spending another season collecting bear hair in Northwestern Montana. Every so often, whilst we are burgling the fur clumps left on our rub trees, a park visitor pops around the corner and asks if we can tell what kind of bear left that hair? The honest answer is no, not really. Black bears can be any number of colors, and at the end of the day, it is hard to tell for certain their fur from any shade of grizzly, unless it is that deep blue-black hue. That said, we can (more or less) safely say what kind of bear hair we are not collecting. In keeping with a series, here is:

A (partial) Guide to Recognizing Your Bears


 


Brown Bear:
Range: Northern North America, Europe, Asia, Wall Street.
Diet: Lots of vegetation, berries, fruit, carcasses, fish, grubs. Mammals great and small, if it feels like a chase. Grizz eats whatever the hell it wants.

American 

Black Bear:  

Range: Behind you!

Diet: Mostly vegetation, berries, roots, grubs, fruit, honey. Also, carrion, trash, dog food, baking supplies, anything they can get their paws clawed on.

 
                             
  Polar Bear:
Range: The Arctic.
Diet: Ringed, harbor, bearded, harp, and hooded seals, other blubbery marine mammals, including the occasional beluga whale. I said whale! 
Random fact: The biggest in the family, polar bears are so well insulated their body heat does not register on an infrared devise. This makes them excellent spies.

Asiatic Black Bear:

Range: Mountain and tropical forests of Southern Asia, Northeast India, etc.

Diet: See American Black Bear.

Random Fact: These guys are largely nocturnal, and are called Moon Bears because of that crescent-shaped chest bling they sport. Dandies.

Get it together, Sun!. You look like a Shar Pei with heat stroke.

Sun Bear:

Range: Rain forests in various Southeast Asian countries.

Diet: Typical jungle fare: honey, insects, veg, fruit, rodents.

Random Fact: Rarest. Smallest. Most ornery. Sun bears love slurping up honey and termites with their  crazy long, skinny, semi-creepy tongue.

  ~ ~ ~Intermission~ ~ ~

Hello, is it me you're looking for?

  Sloth Bear:
  Range: Forest and grasslands of India,
  Nepal, Bangladesh, etc.
  Diet: Mostly termites and ants (check out
  that schnoz), but anything will do.
  Random Fact: The Sloth Bear's Lionel
  Ritchie-esque   shaggy faux-mullet ear/neck
  fur help keep little insects away. And that
  ain't the half of it. They have long tongues,
  can close their nostrils and curl their lips
  over their noses, and lose their front top
  canines,  all to better suck up insects.
  Apparently their aggressive hoovering
  can be heard 300 meters away.

                                      Not amused

  Spectacled Bear:
  Range: Northern and Western South
   America.
  Diet: Fallen fruits, palm nuts, orchid
  roots, honey, sugarcane, cactus.
  Random Fact: Closest living relatives
  of the epic Short-Faced Bear of
  Pleistocene fame. Named for face
  markings vaguely reminiscent of
  corrective eye wear.

Ready for my close-up

  









  Panda Bear:  
   Range: Southeast China. 
   Diet: Bamboooooo! Only bamboo.
   International poster bear for adorable.
   

Care Bear:   
Range: Kingdom of Caring, Care-A-Lot, the Forest of Feelings, my first-grade birthday cake.                               Diet: Sugared cloud cones, the hopes and dreams of young children, mainlined love.

                                                     Bear Grass:                Range:Western North America                   Diet: Water, sunlight.

  



Bear Grylls:
Range: Atop Mount Everest, north-Atlantic icebergs, jungle ditches, free falling through mid-air, under piles of leaves, up in trees, on book stands everywhere.  
Diet: Raw organs, insects great and small, urine, deer shit, real vowels, and basically whatever it takes to SURVIVE!








 


Gummi Bear:  
Range: Happy bellies and cavity-ridden mouths worldwide.  
Diet: You're not on one if you're eating these bears.


 



  

The Gay Man's Bear: 

Range: San Fransisco, Miami, D.C., New York,  Seattle, worldwide. 
Diet: Listen, what a bear eats in the privacy of his own home is no body's business but his own. 









 





Chicago Bear:  
Range: Chicago and fields away. 
Diet: Coors Old Style, chicken wings, deepdish, haters. Just check The Fridge. Ha! Then please, watch this! 

Evidence

Bear-hair hunting season is on. Inquiring minds want to know...

1. How many bears are in Glacier?
Most recent estimates put the number of grizzlies at a bit over 300, and black bears over 700.
Grizzly bear numbers for the entire Northern Continental Divide Ecosystem study area are closer to 1000 individuals. Black bears, about a bajillion.


2. What is that sound?
Sounds like a loon to me. Or the forlorn wailing of Skinny Guy, Glacier's creepier, lanky Bigfoot equivalent.


3. When is it going to stop raining?
In July. Oh, wait...


4. How many days does it take before trench foot actually sets in?
Well, according to my sources, jungle rot can get the party going in as little as thirteen hours. Luckily the evolution into full gangrene takes a bit longer. And all you have to do to prevent it is keep your feet dry and clean. Huh.


5. Are you going to eat that? 
Is that a trick question?

Your Sweetness Is My Weakness

With the new summer field season creeping in on us, I've been thinking about our bear friends again. You know we tramp all over the place collecting the hair they leave behind when they rub on tree trunks, power poles, sign posts, and wooden bridges. You know we do this to get genetic samples to monitor population and distribution and such. But why do they do it? Why do the bears rub? Well, we still aren't totally sure, but here is a little evidence that may bode well for the because it feels awesome camp.

Last year my co-worker Brad put up a remote camera near an old bridge positively fuzzy with bear fur. He collected the gear several weeks later, and we were all pretty impressed by the images it caught. The following video is just one sequence. This one is of an adult male, with a, well, with a kind of bare ass. We also caught a mama and two little cubs rubbing, and a black bear, and some other animals sniffing around.

If I were a technological wizard, I'd find a way to sync up this visual with some sweet, sensual tunes. And when you're talking about a big, sexy bear, in the privacy of this own forest, expressing himself to the object of his love and affection, no one gets it done* like The Barry White (RIP). Dude had a voice. Unfortunately, you'll have to settle for playing this ditty in the background while you watch.

Disclaimer: It's all night-vision up in here. You may feel pretty voyeuristic. The footage is dark and fuzzy. There are glowing eyes. Sometimes it is hard to see exactly what is happening. One thing is for damn sure though--that bear is really, really enjoying himself. If he could talk, I am quite certain his voice would sound exactly like the deep smoove groove of Mr. White.


*Seriously.
The man knew what he was he was doing.
Just look at some of the best slow jams from his epic roster:

- I'm Qualified To Satisfy You
- It's Ecstasy When You Lay Down Next To Me
- Beware
- Passion
- Sho' You Right
- Never, Never Gonna Give You Up
- You're My First, My Last, My Everything
- I'll Do For You Anything You Want Me To
- Love Makin' Music
- Super Lover
- I Wanna Do It Good To Ya
- I'm Gonna Love You Just A Little More Baby

28 Days Later

Oi. As you may or may not have noticed, my interwebbing communications have fallen into the abysmal as of late. Although I would not categorize that as a bad thing, as it are the bears and the subsequent burgling of their fur that have kept me largely away from all screens.

Two hitches down, six to go: a brief summary in words and pictures.

Snow. High water. Run, River, Run. Can't cross that creek here. Nope, not there either. Turn around. Go home. Oh, hello black bear, hello grizzly. And bounding mink, all sleek and wet-furred with a limp mouse danging from that sharp little bite. Down your hole. Feed your kits. Happy Birthday, America! We salute you with sweat and beer, with volleyball and flying bean bags, with stars and stripes, with fires and guitars, and tents pitched in dewy fields. Camping with a ten-month-old baby can be quite fun. Fly little dandelion seed! But, Oh, Canada. Hey, look! Lake Janet still has icebergs floating in it! Let's jump in. So, um, refreshing. Hey Mr. Toad. Fat stuff. Howdy tailed-frogs creeping by backpacks. Nettles, why must you be so cruel? Thunderstorm. Shake, you silver snags, shake! Rustle you aspen leaves, bob and weave, jazz hands to the sun. Didn't you know that all the best rockstars wear long underwear? And safety goggles. And sometimes helmets, too. Sorry the camp stove doesn't work. Luckily I forgot dinner, anyway.

Mosquitoes, oh you foul beasts. You testers of sanity. You nighttime tormentors. Hey there bruise! Jump up on my shin. Join the party! Smile down on these sunny glacier lilies. Bursting blue lupines. Paintbrush. Bunchberry. Self-heal and shooting star. Aster and Ox-eye. Drink little hummingbird, drink. Laugh it up, loons. Nannies and billies and kids, fancy meeting you here, down by the river, off your craggy ledge. New larch needles, soft as feathers, feel good against cheeks. Water, water, everywhere. Snowy passes. Do the mountains know how beautiful they are? Cold marmots. Fuzzy-antlered elk. Seriously mosquitoes, we get it. You want to kill us. You too, nightjars, exploding up from the gravel, your wing lines flashing and glowing in the headlights.

Who says 1am isn't anything but a reasonable time to get home?

A sleepy field

See ya, playa!

Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures

We did it all for the data

Do fish recognize international borders?

Rock it, yea-eh. (Photo courtesy of M. Beall)

Preparing a whiskey-cider reward

The North Fork: Just another uncrossable river

Seriously

Grandpa Tumnus

One hidden lake on the way to another

I love my backyard

Slim silver sentinels

Avalanche

Smokey and the Bandits

This summer I embark on my third year working on the Northern Divide Grizzly Bear Project  in Glacier National Park, aka The Greatest Job in the World. The project has been ongoing, in one incarnation or another, since 1998. It started out in Glacier, but now encompasses nearly eight million acres around the Northern Continental Divide Ecosystem. Our current objectives are to:

- Evaluate the efficacy of monitoring grizzly and black bear population trends using noninvasive hair sampling.

- Estimate population: (1) growth rate, (2) abundance, (3) distribution and relative density, (4) gene flow and genetic structure, and (5) apparent survival rates.

- Provide area-specific information on bear population status.

Noninvasive sampling methods involve collecting data in such a way as to not annoy, molest, stress, or piss off the wildlife in question. This could mean observing behavior from a distance, studying tracks, collecting shit, or nabbing hair in the woods. Nerdy lab-rats can extract DNA from hair follicles and tell us who is who in the bear world, down to the individual level. And so we are professional fur burglers. For reasons that are still unclear, bears love to rub their backs on trees, power poles, fence posts, wooden bridges, etc. I get it. It probably feels pretty damn good, and I bet it isn't easy to book a massage when you are a 500 pound grizzly bear. In previous seasons we identified trees that bears had already enjoyed rubbing on, and we numbered them and added four foot-long strands of barbed wire to the trunks. Now we can walk through millions of acres of habitat from Glacier to Missoula, and check thousands of trees for bear hair. We will do this all summer, hitting each tree three times, no matter the weather, no matter the state of our creaky knees, blistered heels, wet feet, or bruise collections. And, by and large, we will be grinning and grateful, even while grimacing, to be out in the hills, quietly following North America's biggest and baddest carnivore.

The crew completed a week of training a couple of days ago.
Collective highlights/items of note included:

- Snowfield and creek-crossing training in the cold, cold rain.
- Infamous the-woods-will-break-you-if-you-aren't-careful cautionary slide show of woe.
- One black bear and two grizzly sightings.
- Graham diving over a six-foot campfire and being caught by the crowd.
- Rotten fish grinding.
- Unknowable quantities of PBR and whiskey consumed.
- Salad with every meal.
- Rain every day.
- Sunset on Lake McDonald.
- Late night mission to make growly bear noises around the new interns' tents.
- Hair samples!
- And, because I was there, a mini-MJ dance party at the bar, just to wrap it all up.

Looking forward to an exceptional season.

Time to Dust Off the Old Bear Suit

At long last, I'm finally back in Montana.
Here is a little preview of what I'll be doing for the next two seasons.

More details to follow...for now, you figure it out.