Gray Wolves in Idaho; Changes in Attitudes

Photo Credit; National Park Service, Denali National Park

Last week I went on a back packing into the central Idaho mountains, and on the way home stopped in Stanley for a snack and gas for my truck. I happened to hear a conversation between several of the local folks about Gray Wolves. Their conversation started out how bad an idea it was to reintroduce wolves into Idaho and then went on to several other topics. From there they discussed how the Canadian Wolves were larger in body size than the native Idaho wolves, and how those vicious Canadian wolves had eaten all the local wolves.

The research on wolves and on other critters does indeed prove that as you move farther north in latitude that mammals get larger in size. Generally speaking. In other words, on the average a grizzly in northern Canada is larger than a Grizzly in Yellowstone Park. However to say that native wolves in British Columbia are larger than native Idaho wolves, is not very probable.

If you look at a road map there is nothing that separates Idaho from British Columbia besides an imaginary line, which is a wee bit insignificant to a Gray Wolf. From Canada to Stanley, Idaho it's about 500 road miles or 300 air miles. A determined Gray Wolf can travel up to 100 miles in a day, if there are no substantial barriers and if I do the math correctly a wolf could travel from British Columbia and arrive in Stanley Idaho, in 5 days. That fast of a trip is not likely because the wolf would probably have to stop and hunt and feed and they would avoid highways,towns and people and other wolf packs which would make it a long trip. The point is that wolves are very mobile and cover a great deal of territory in a short time.

Then the idea that Canadian wolves killing all the native Idaho wolves is interesting and somehow I envision the native wolves all wearing bright orange Boise State shirts, making them easy to find, and all the Canadian wolves wearing the Maple Leaf flag. This might make for a great story but there is no way for one wolf to discern the nationality of another wolf and they all have the same colors and there is no difference in their sizes. A Gray Wolf is a Gray Wolf is a Gray Wolf.

Then the conversation took a different turn that I never expected. One of the gals mentioned she had seen a Gray Wolf and she said "it was beautiful". In fact she said it twice. Then her husband was discussing how he was going to wolf hunting after the snows came on his snowmobile and it was something he was looking forward to.

Perhaps this signals a change of attitude and more acceptance of the presence of wolves in Idaho. Perhaps folks that weren't fully supportive of having wolves in Idaho are starting to take ownership and can see the value, magic, beauty, and the mystery of having wolves in our State again.

Hag-Taper; The Orginal Pioneer of the West

They were one of the first European pioneers in North America and probably the most tenacious, and they followed the footsteps of other discoverers along established roads and trails. Plowed fields and other areas newly disturbed my man were also a favorite place of settlement. Which pioneer was this? Well is was the Common Mullein (Verbasum thapus) of course, the plant honyocker, settler, homesteader and squatter, of the plant world. Some know this plant by the name of Hag-Taper.

The common mullein isn't native to the United States and was an introduced from Eurasia. It's a member of the figwort family and produces a stalk that is somewhat woody, unbranched and 2-8 foot tall, with yellow flowers that occur in dense , spike like racemes, with flannel like leaves. Mullein is classified as a biennial which means the first year the seed sprouts it forms a rosette of low growing silver-gray leaves and the second year it grows a long stalk with flowers, then the plant dies.

Mullein probably made it's first appearance in North America during colonial times when it was used as a medicinal herb and a wrapper for food, to keep it from spoiling. There are a number of other reported medicinal uses of this plant including treatment for coughs, pneumonia, and insect bites, which I cannot vouch for. The Indians of North America used mullein for tobacco, and healing smoke for respiratory problems and to make drill spindles for friction fire starting. Birds feed on the seed pods of mature plants, which provide a ready source of seed especially during the winter when the snows are deep.

In more ancient times mullein was known for magical properties and sprigs of mullein were passed through a fire in order to protect cattle from sickness brought on by sorcery. The Potowatami Indians smudged unconscious folks with the leaves to help revive them.

I often see mullein growing along dirt roads, and sometimes in open forest lands where fires have burned and in the canyons along the Owhyee River I have seen it growing scattered amongst the bunch grasses, like so many small trees. The soft leaf is one of the most remarkable features of this plant and it does feel like a piece of flannel. It's like you could use it to clean off your computer screen or even wipe the film off your glasses. The tall straight stalks remind me of a lance or spear, as if some ancient warrior stuck it in the ground to mark the way.

I think the most magical thing about mullein is its ability to grow in very dry areas, on disturbed soil and to grow so straight and tall. And as far as the medicinal uses, magic and sorcery I will leave that to others to fathom, but maybe I will keep a few mullein leaves around the house..... just in case.

The Salmon River Breaks; the Granite Triangle

On July 19th, 2003, lightning ignited a fire on Cramer Creek, in the Salmon River Breaks of Idaho, on an impossibly steep grassy mountain, and a tragedy was in the making, as a series of small mistakes turned to disaster. The fire was discovered the next day and the shuttle of firefighters by helicopter began that afternoon, to the high ridges near the fire. The flames continued to eat away at the grass and brush on the steep mountain side and 200 acres were burning by the next evening.

There are places in the Rocky Mountains and other ranges in the world, that are almost impenetrable, due to the steepness and ruggedness of the country and the density of the trees and brush. This type of massif demands respect, and can only be ignored at your own peril. The landscape dominates the movement of animals and people, and trails intertwine and overlap, or there are no trails, just scrambles and technical traverses for the likes of mountain climbers. And mountain goats and bighorn sheep. Or you best not travel those slopes at all, unless you want to risk a fall or get bashed by numerous flying, tumbling and rolling rocks.

The Salmon River Mountains, located in central Idaho, are such a place. The Salmon River on its course to the Snake River cuts a deep canyon through rugged mountains dodging lofty peaks, and granite fortified ridges. The gorge of the Salmon is around 3,000 feet elevation and the peaks surrounding it are 8,000 to 9,000 feet in height, all in the space of around three or four miles. A hike from the river bottom to the summits is a gut wrenching, mind numbing experience with a full pack. Or even an empty one.

The Salmon River, also known as the River of No Return, originates in the snowfields and peaks of the Sawtooth and White Cloud mountains and flows a tortuous course to the north, until it reaches North Fork, Idaho, where the river turns abruptly and flows in a westerly direction. This area is generally known as the Salmon River Breaks or the Salmon Mountains. The lower slopes of these mountains are covered with grass and brush, which grades into timber as you climb in elevation. Spruce, pine, fir. The famous or maybe infamous Salmon River Breaks, is known as big fire country because fires spread so rapidly and the terrain is impossibly steep, rocky and remote. And deadly at times. River of No Return, indeed.

There have been many conflicts in this remote corner of the Rocky Mountains, between man and the mountains and all its elements of water, rock, ice, snow, avalanches, and fire. Explorers, warriors, mountain men, miners, river rafters and firefighters have tested their mettle in this wondrous land; tragedy and drama are no strangers.

My first experience in the Salmon River Breaks, was with a fire team on a wildland fire, located just north of the river. I drove the dirt road from North Fork to Shoup, Idaho, and the track narrowed the farther east I went and mountains seemed to push hard at the river, the granite flanks of the ridges literally diving into the waves. The fire assignment turned out to be a short one, but the chance to explore parts of the Salmon River Breaks, shall not be forgotten.

The Salmon River appeared like a silver ribbon enclosed in gray rock, with a wedge shaped piece of blue sky peaking through a gaping maw. The abyss is incredibly narrow and deep, leaving a fissure, or tear in the sky. The Salmon River does not surrender easily and fights back and roars at the rock, cliffs, and tangles of boulders and the waters tumble, roll, spray and froth with white. The rumble of rocks rolling on the river bottom and punching at banks and boulders is a symphony that drowns out all other sounds, and the sight of water rounded stones from ancient floods indicates the timeless power of the Salmon. The whitewater rapids rumble, crash, growl, snarl, and howl, in one of natures biggest shindigs.

On August 12th, 1805 the Lewis and Clark expedition entered uncharted territory into what is now Idaho, after crossing over Lemhi Pass, and Captain William Clark, for the first time, camped on waters that flowed into the Pacific Ocean. They were ecstatic to have finally reached this point on their long journey, but were soon dismayed to look out to the west and see one high mountain range after another.

The next day they traveled over rolling hills to the main Salmon River, where they encountered the Shoshone Indians for the first time. The Shoshones possessed horses which the expedition badly needed, to carry their cargo and trade goods, and trying to cross the mountains without these beasts of burden would have been nearly impossible.

The second part of their mission was to see if there was a water route they could take to the Columbia River by canoe. The Shoshones provided them with a guide and Clark and 3 men traveled another 40 some miles down the Salmon River and on August 23rd camped on Squaw Creek above the main Salmon River about 4 miles west of Shoup, Idaho.

Clark wrote in his journal:

August 23, 1805 "We Set out early proceed on with great dificuelty as rocks were So sharp large and unsettled and the hill sides Steep that the horses could with the greatest risque and dificulty get on .."

.... below my guide and maney other Indians tell me that the Mountains Close and is a perpendicular Clift on each Side, and Continues for a great distance and that the water runs with great violence from one rock to the other on each Side foaming & roreing thro rocks in every direction, So as to render the passage of any thing impossible. those rapids which I had Seen he said was Small and trifleing in comparison to the rocks and rapids below......"

The Shoshone guide indicated there was a better route, which traveled north to the Bitterroot Valley, and heeding that advice, Captain Clark sent a messenger back to Captain Lewis, telling him there was no passage down the Salmon River. Clark and his men retreated back up the Salmon River and on August 27th they met up with the main expedition and Lewis. They charted a new course up the North Fork of the Salmon River, and started the tortuous climb into Bitterroot Mountains to Lost Trail Pass.

The Lewis and Clark expedition, with the help of the Shoshone's, evaluated the risks of traversing the Salmon River and made a good decision, to retreat to the north. They had met their match in the Salmon River Breaks and the mountains had won, and it was to rugged for even the likes of seasoned Indian guides and their ponies and mountain men.

During the journey across Lost Trail Pass, Clark Writes in his journal:

Sept. 3rd, 1805. "....hills high & rocky on each Side, in the after part of the day the high mountains closed the the Creek on each Side and obliged us to take on the Steep Mountains, So steep that the horses Could Screcly keep from Slipping down, Several Sliped & Injured themselves....."

There are many lessons to be learned from the experiences of Lewis & Clark and the Shoshone Indians, for those that cared to listen. In August of 1985 hundreds of firefighters would encamp in the Salmon River Mountains, to fight dozens of lightning ignited fires.

One of those blazes was the Butte Fire which was 10 miles, as the crow flies, from Squaw Creek drainage on the Salmon River where William Clark and his party turned back in 1805, due to the ruggedness of the country. On the afternoon August 29th, 1985, a crown fire run boiled up in Owl Creek and Wallace Creek and the fire lunged to the north towards the ridge top, at Tin Cup Hill, where hundreds of fire fighters were constructing control lines. 118 firefighters were entrapped on that remote mountain and surrounded by a firestorm, that roared like 100 freight trains and burned for hours with multiple flaming fronts. 78 of those firefighters used their fire shelters to escape the heat and smoke and all survived, huddled on a mountain 10 miles from the cool waters of the Salmon River. There was considerable drama that day but none of it ended in a tragedy, but it goes down in the history books as one of the biggest fire entrapment's ever. The Salmon River Breaks and its seemingly invincible ridges and thick timber, won the day and thoroughly rejected, trounced, thrashed and routed the firefighters and forced them into full retreat.

And the story does not end on Tin Cup Hill. In July 19th of 2003 a lightning fire started on Cramer Creek, 4 major drainage's to the west from where the Butte Fire occurred in 1985. A contingent of firefighters was sent to fight a fire, on yet another ridiculously steep, rugged and rocky mountain in the Salmon River Breaks. It was a perfect furnace, like a huge wood stove with its mouth at the cool waters of the Salmon River at 3100 feet and a mountain above at nearly 8,000 feet, forming a stove pipe that reached for the sky. A 5,000 foot tall furnace a couple of miles long and a mile wide, stoked with extremely dry grass, brush and timber. Into that pyre walked a few dozen firefighters, and two never returned. Heroes to us all.

The Cramer Fire occurred about 22 miles downriver from the location in 1805 where William Clark started his retreat back to the east and north. Clark made the determination, with the advice of the Shoshone Indians, that neither horse nor canoe could safely traverse this area.

The Butte Fire, the Cramer Fire, and the path of Clark William intersect within a triangle of mountains, in an area I call the Granite Triangle. The triangle is formed by drawing a line from the Shoup, Idaho northwest to Tin Cup Hill, then connecting that line to Long Tom Mountain, with the Salmon River forming the bottom. In this region the historic footsteps and helicopter flights of firefighter and explorers merge and cross, which is no accident. The mountains are guarded by some of the steepest and rugged slopes in the world, nearly unconquerable, and a river that has to knife its way down a wedge of canyon, and literally fight its way through boulders and around rock ledges.

On Sept, 3rd, 1805 Clark wrote in his journal:

"..This day we passed over emence hils and Some of the worst roade that ever horses passed our horses frequently fell....."

Over the years I worked on many forest fires in the Salmon River Breaks and the beauty and ruggedness of this region, always continues to amaze me. It's a special treat to see the wildlife, especially the sight of bighorn sheep clambering across rock slides with their exquisite camouflage, the same grayish color as the granite boulders. My path has crossed the Lewis & Clark and Shoshone Indian trails many times, and roads and trace of historic fires.

On a summer night above the Salmon River, somewhere near Owl Creek, you might hear, if you listen real hard, the chatter of firefighters on a nearby hill and the whine of chainsaws, the whinny of a horse, the sound of drums, or a desperate transmission over a two way radio, or the fleeting movement of a line of horses and buckskin clad men on a far ridge. Or maybe its just a rock or log tumbling down the hill, or an owl hooting, a wolf howling, the rumble of whitewater, the wind in the trees and sweeping over granite ledges, or a herd of elk running single file down a ridge. Echos and shadows of Indians, woodsmen and explorers.

Concerns About Wild Wolf Attacks in Idaho

In a recent letter to the editor in the Idaho Statesman, one of the authors was concerned about the danger of wolves in Idaho, and were considering not riding their horses in the mountains. Certainly wolves are a wild animal and can be dangerous but there are many dangers in the mountains including rushing rivers, rolling rocks, falling trees, lightning, mountain lions, bears, bees and moose. You have to put these threats and dangers into perspective. Take a look at attacks by domestic dogs, which by some estimates there are 26 people killed every year. The number of wolf attacks in the United States per year, averages just about zero. Now granted there are many more domestic dogs than wolves but the bottom line is domestic dogs have no fear of humans. Wolves generally fear humans, and will stay away, but they are curious and sometimes and will approach people. I personally feel safer in the mountains than strolling around town. Hiking and hunting in the wild Idaho is all about looking at the scenery and wild animals. You have to be wise to the woods and take precautions but seeing a bear or wolf is a real thrill.