Close calls in the valley

The Flat Top sheep band now has a couple dogs with it! This is great news and will help the herder hear what is going on with his sheep at night. Additionally, we put a prototype non-lethal deterrent on one of the dogs, called a bark light. This light is attached to a collar and turns on when the dog barks. This combination of light and sound is very effective in deterring wolves, and we hope to start implementing these more in the future.

Abodon with his Punta de Lobos hat (Wolves Point)

Both of the Flat T-op herders I have visited with have been wearing some form of wolf-themed clothing when I’ve visited with them. When I first met Felipe, he had a wolf shirt on, and Abodon had a hat that said “Wolves Point”. I’m hoping this brings good karma with the wolves, though I think the effective use of non-lethal deterrents will yield better results.

Luckily for the sheep, Abodon has been a herder for over 20 years and has worked with the project for most of our history. He is consistently using the non-lethal tools we are prescribing. Thanks, Abodon!

Heading out to sleep with the sheep – via bicycle

This week I received a call from a herder out West of town. He said he had heard wolves nearby, and it was time that I checked in with him anyways. I headed out on my bike with my gear packed, thinking I would meet with him and then camp out and listen for wolves in the area. I assumed that the sheep would be close to where the herder was sleeping for the night, but when I arrived he pointed to where they were. Tiny white blips appeared on the far side of a wooded valley. Oh no, this isn’t good! With wolves potentially nearby and the sheep incredibly far from the herder, I decided to head over to where they were and stake out for the night, despite not planning on it beforehand. I arrived just as night fell. The sheep band appeared calm, barely baa-ing.

As I accustomed to their noises, I began hearing a far-off baa-ing that didn’t sit well with me. I quickly realized that the other half of the band was on the other side of the valley where we had just come from, though much further down the mountain and well off the trail.

One of the dogs had stayed with that half of the band, while the other two were with our half. The herder shined his light and fired off his rifle into the air, trying to make a commotion in the case the wolves he had heard were nearby.

It was quiet that night and everything ended up fine in the morning. The band was reunited, and I left without having to investigate any dead sheep. I did feel a little disappointed I didn’t get to hear the wolves but that was for the best in this situation.

A few days after my bike excursion, a new volunteer joined the project. We went to go check-in with two of the herders a bit north of Ketchum. The lambs were about to be shipped, and I wanted to make sure everything was going well. When we arrived, we heard that one of the herders had seen a wolf fairly close that morning. While our role is not to sleep near the sheep every night, occasionally it makes more sense than other times to do so. With a wolf nearby, the lambs about to be shipped, and the band sleeping quite a distance from the herder camp, I decided to show Tara, our new volunteer, the ropes of guarding the sheep at night.

Following the exceptionally vague instructions of the herder, we headed out to the sheep band at night. The livestock guardian dogs barked, letting us know we were on the right path. After setting up a few Fox Lights around the sheep, we stayed up till dawn, listening to the sheep and shining the occasional light across their sleeping area. No wolves that night but a spectacular meteor shower greeted us and the sheep band.

Another successful week in the Big Wood River Valley!

Thanks again for all your help and support. We couldn’t do this work without you.

Logan

Learning Curves and Breaking Habits (July 12-21st)

So far, the month has been going fairly smoothly with the project, and this week started off simple enough. Little did I know how hectic everything was going to get.

To begin, I brought out Darío a sleeping mat via mountain bike and checked-in with him. So far, no wolves had visited him or his sheep, although he keeps seeing a bear hanging around the band and visiting his camp. He had been sounding off the air horn and his rifle occasionally to scare off any other creatures that might be nearby.

Camera placed near the area that wolves had potentially attacked sheep

Quickly after this easy start with Darío, a week of pure adrenaline started. I went out to check a camera along a trail north of Ketchum, where I found Doroteo and Elvis at the trailhead. They had just moved camp and were on their way from the valley floor to high in the mountains. We started to chat, and as talked they mentioned that they had lost four sheep a week ago. Oh no. Here we go. Although I didn’t want to assume it was wolf, typically wolves kill all at once in larger numbers than other predators. Bears, coyotes, and mountain lions generally only take one or two sheep at a time, while wolves can kill large numbers in a single night. As they are scavengers as well as predators, this allows them in nature to return to a kill over and over again to eat for longer periods. A bit of anxiety coursed through my veins as I thought about the fact that these sheep had been dead for a week and I hadn’t known about it.

Well, first things first. I had to find those sheep and see if I could see any sign of predators nearby. As a project, we try to document as much as we possibly can about every depredation that occurs to learn about what caused the loss and how it can best be prevented again in the future.

Normally, I can smell out a dead sheep, but this day the strong winds made it near impossible to smell anything. A vulture overhead taunted me with the secret location that he clearly knew. Instead of wasting time here looking for a needle in a haystack, I headed up to check my camera. Unfortunately, there was nothing there that could help.

Leaving the search for the dead sheep behind turned out to be the right decision. Heading down the trail, I turned a corner to see a black bear running across a field of sage, throwing a piece of sheep up in the air and catching it. It ran back and forth, standing up to look around for any incoming trail traffic, then proceeding to chow down. I stood probably 50 feet from it, and it didn’t notice me. I suspect the violent wind thrashing the valley scattered my scent enough for the bear not to notice, though I certainly didn’t like being so close to it with its food nearby.  

The bear rather quickly lost enthusiasm and wandered off into the tall willows whipping in the wind. This was my chance. Slowly and cautiously I approached where it had been a moment before and checked for signs of sheep. There I found some torn up remains, but not much else other than the smell. Checking for predator signs, I couldn’t see anything. Not even the bear left much of a mark, due to the dry, gravel covered ground. It’s also very likely the bear had dragged the carcass away from its original resting place, as bears often move their food around to new sites.

I am forever jealous of the views the herders get to enjoy every night from camp.

On my way back out, I saw a few large canine shaped tracks in the dirt that could have been wolf. Sadly, my phone had died by this point and I couldn’t document them.

Pinto the horse keeping an eye on me.

Talking with Doroteo and Elvis on my way out, they told me they hadn’t been using the lights or airhorns that I had given them. Doroteo said he had been in the area for 8 years and had never had a problem.

I get it. We get used to a certain pattern and it’s hard to break out of that pattern. However, predators habituate to the familiar and adding the lights gives them an impression of greater risk, something wolves try to avoid. I emphasized that it was very important that they put the lights out at night, especially since dead sheep nearby could potentially attract more predators to the flock. Given the situation with sheep being killed by some predator in the area, I decided to camp out near the band in case the predator(s) returned. It was a peaceful night though and no more sheep were attacked.

That next night I met up with them way up high in the mountains and stayed out near the sheep for the night. While out there, I helped Doroteo and Elvis move rocks off the road that the sheep had dislodged in order to help avoid tensions with recreationalists driving through.

I didn’t hear any wolves that night as well. Instead, the sheep baaing greeted my ears till the early hours of the morning. Although we know the wolves are there, from local reports to images captured on field cameras and confirmed depredations by the federal agency Wildlife Services, sometimes I’m not the lucky guy that gets to see them. That’s okay with me. For me, it’s far more important that I know they’re out there, and that we are doing everything we can do stop conflict from turning into persecution.

Elvis and Pinto

I ended up returning the following day to interview them in more detail about the lost sheep as well as to see what nonlethal tools they may be using. Upon arriving, I started chatting with Elvis, who used to work as a mechanic in the mines of Peru. He told me how he can make double working as a shepherd here than as a mechanic down there. We also talked a bit about how intense the environmental damage caused by the mines is down there, specifically the water contamination.

Doroteo arrived a bit later. The way these two work in tandem is by having one of them, Elvis, stay mostly at the camp and cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Doroteo. Meanwhile, Doroteo gets up early in the morning to tend to the sheep, returns for midday, then goes back out until evening. It’s an ancient system that has been used for thousands of years.

Doroteo had just gotten back from placing Fox Lights, though he only placed one. I encouraged him to place more around the sheep. Fortunately, the band was sleeping fairly close to where they were camped. Human presence is a big part of what we prescribe as part of our non-lethal work, because wolves are quite fearful of humans. The more human activity there is around a band, the less likely wolves are going to come investigating.

Solar FoxLight on a stick to increase visibility. FoxLights turn on at dusk and off at dawn when predators are most active.

Sometimes the herders prefer to improvise with the Fox Light posts instead of carrying around something extra. This time they got by with a little help from mother nature with some sticks for Fox Light posts.

While I am out here to assist in any way I can, at the end of the day the project needs the herders and producers to take ownership of this effort. Without their buy-in and use of our equipment, this project can’t succeed. This being my first season with the Wood River Wolf Project, it may take some time for everyone to warm up to me, and that’s okay. I believe with time I can win folks over and we can continue to see the successful adoption of nonlethal practices. In the meantime, I’ll be checking in with these guys while trying to move them in the right direction.

Have a great week, all.

Logan

Foxlights, carcass removal (ugh), and livestock guardian dogs.

Not all wolf coexistence work is glamorous…

This last week brought some snow and rain to the Wood River Valley. It also saw me and Daniel, a long-time volunteer with the project, heading out to find a dead sheep. A network of locals alerted me to the sheep, and after receiving the call I ringed Daniel to recruit him. He was in.

Our task was simple: put this 150+ pound ewe in a large, black plastic bag. The idea behind this action is to keep the smell down while increasing the rate of decomposition of the body. In doing so, we hope to reduce the amount of time that a dead sheep can act as an attractant for predators, namely wolves, in the area. Wolves can smell a rotting carcass from miles away, so limiting the chance of them encountering the sheep and developing a taste for it is essential.

On a hot day, this work wouldn’t have been very fun, but the lucky for us the cold weather kept the smell down. We were able to get the sheep double bagged, then we rolled it up the hill to keep it out of sight. A couple days later, I headed out with another long-time volunteer, Kurt, who has been with the project since the beginning. We had heard that more dead sheep were in the same area, so we went out to check it out. After hiking in and looking around for a while, we couldn’t find anything. We also couldn’t find the sheep that we had bagged up the other day. While at first I thought it may have been a bear carrying it off, as had happened with Roberto the week before, the lack of tracks or any other animal sign seemed to point us in another direction. I called Doroteo and asked him for the scoop. He told me John Etchart, a camp tender for the Faulkner operation, had come and hauled the carcass away. This was exciting news. It is always better to remove a carcass from the area, as it almost completely eliminates the chance of a hungry predator coming to check out the area thus avoiding any potential conflict with the nearby sheep bands. It was inspiring to see John and his operation being proactive. This project depends on buy in from our partners in the ranching community. Without this, we would have very little impact in reducing conflict.

The following day, I headed up to meet Ray Mavencamp, the camp tender for the Plateau Farms operation. I showed up early to make sure I wouldn’t miss him, but Alfredo and Sixto assured me he wouldn’t be there till later in the day, despite having asked them when he would be coming the day before. Oh well. I would try back later to see if he had come by yet. 

Thinking of how to fill my time, I headed off to meet the herder that had just entered the Lake Creek area. Upon arriving, I saw the herder heading off on horseback at a far faster clip than I could muster. Kicking myself for not getting there sooner, I went back to the sheep wagon to investigate. Lo and behold, the door was swung wide open with a man inside eating some lunch. I introduced myself to Erazmo. We barely had a moment to chat before a truck hauling a trailer and a water-hauling truck pulled beside us. Two men get out, one speaking Spanish, the other following directions. Could this be John Etchart? I wondered to myself. That would be quite my luck. He seemed to speak pretty good Spanish, so I doubted whether he was the man I was hoping to run into. I had meant to catch him at various times over the previous weeks, but he moves quick and doesn’t stick around for long. “John?” I asked. “You must be Logan. How’re you doing?” I was thrilled to get to meet this guy, but before I could he had to get his business done. He asked the guy that came with him to show Erazmo how to work the pump on the water truck, and then told him to take the truck for a ride to teach him how to drive it. Erazmo didn’t have much experience driving a manual, let alone a huge water truck, so this would be interesting to watch.

John and I got to talking. He reminded me of my grandpa with the way he cracked jokes without stopping to breath. It turns out he not only speaks Spanish, but he speaks Basque as well which is an incredibly challenging language to learn. He seemed enthusiastic about getting equipment to his herders as soon as possible, knowing that they are already deep in wolf country. Once Erazmo came back, John went on his way. Erazmo and I talked for a while, and he showed me where he was from in Peru: Cajamarca. He uses his money earned here to pay for his two girls to go to school in Lima, the capital of Peru. He said he used to live in the countryside herding sheep, but now he lives in the city with his kids when he’s not in Idaho.

It turns out he worked as a cook for the herders down in Arizona, cooking for large groups of people at a time. Before heading on his way, John hollared to Erazmo that he needed to show me some of his cooking.

One of the Livestock Guardian Dogs on watch for trouble.

My favorite part of seeing this operation was that it helped me better understand the various operation’s methods of dealing with the sheep. Kowitz runs an operation where his herders are very remote, camping alone in tents. Faulkner, on the other hand, has two guys per band. They return to their sheep wagon each night. The benefit of this is that they have a greater flexibility to deal with a problem should one arise. One guy can go stay with the sheep while the other rests, and then switch off. In the case of a wolf trouble, this flexibility could be crucial.

I got lucky that day running into John, but I got even luckier heading back out to Greenhorn. There I found Ray Mavencamp and Alfredo setting up the corral for the next morning. He invited me to come out the next morning to meet with the Henslee brothers and see how they load up the sheep for transport. It seemed like the perfect chance to meet the Henslee family while also getting to see a bit more of the ranch work.

Setting up the corral at daybreak.

Very early the next morning I headed out to see for myself what loading the sheep looked like. When I got there, a livestock guardian dog had gotten away. I introduced myself to Mike and Mark Henslee, the two brothers that run Plateau Farms, and asked what had happened. He explained that if the dogs don’t get loaded into the corral before the sheep, they’re impossible to catch. “They hate getting loaded up in the trucks,” he said “The best way to keep these dogs away from you is to tell them: Come here boy!” I made a mental note that I would have to try that the next time the dogs start running after me while visiting the herders.

Before long, the sheep-loading began. A series of fences lets them move sheep into different loading zones. The final loading area gradually narrows till its wide enough for one sheep at a time to enter. The sheep then run up a plank into the awaiting semi for transport. Meanwhile, Alfredo, Sixto and Ray stand in the corral whooping and hollering while throwing their arms up and shaking some hollow plastic tools filled with what seemed like beads. Sheep are extremely skittish animals, so this was enough to motivate them to move forward into the truck. Some didn’t and jumped higher than I ever would have thought it possible for a sheep to jump, nearly careening over the fence itself. Some moved so fast they were able to fit themselves between the metal bars of the corral. Still, the far majority nervously baa-ed themselves along the corridor, ready to be transported north into the Sawtooth National Recreation Area. As the first couple rounds of sheep were herded up, I let Mike know that I’d been bringing equipment out to Alfredo and Sixto, and that we had more coming as soon as our orders came in. He seemed relieved that the project had already gotten out to talk with the herders and bring them equipment. I thanked the brothers for letting me watch their operation work, said goodbye to Alfredo and Sixto, and headed on my way.

To finish off the week, I went to find Roberto again. Kurt had shown me a much lighter, easier to carry way of setting up the Fox Lights. Using plastic posts, I can cut them down to the right height and eliminate the unnecessary burden of carrying extra weight for the herders. Cutting them down to about the height of a wolf makes them more effective because the lights are emitted horizontally. If the light is in the wolf’s line of sight, the light appears much brighter and thus is much more effective at deterring them. I brought a few of these posts out to Roberto, as well as a fresh, piping-hot chicken breast from Atkinson’s. He had asked me if I would bring him one, and boy he looked like he needed it when he showed up. His herd showed up first, with hundreds of sheep baa-ing incessantly, running towards a water trough situated just in front of Roberto and Darío’s sheep wagons.

Roberto arrived on foot. I had expected him to have his horse, but he left it up above. Once he got his flock settled, he dug into the chicken and cracked open a cold soda. After eating, he asked me to help him count his black sheep, which can be helpful to know whether other sheep are missing. Because sheep tend to stick together in groups, and because there are only a few black sheep to a flock, counting them can be a quick way of seeing whether a herder is missing sheep. For the next twenty minutes or so, I imitated what I had seen Alfredo and Sixto doing in the corral the day before, whooping and hollering to make the sheep moving up the drainage we were in. I moved back and forth to get at the straggles. Roberto stood at a vantage point to make sure he could see the whole flock and count them as they passed by. “Todo bien. Hay nueve.” All good. The nine black sheep were there. He probably hadn’t lost any others.

As Roberto prepared to head back up the hill, we watched as the sky grew ominously dark. He mentioned that he didn’t have a rain jacket. I asked him what else he might need, and slowly he told me that he could use some new work clothes, both shirts and pants, and a new backpack. All of his clothes are falling apart from constant use, day-in, day-out. His backpack’s zippers don’t close and the straps are close to coming off. He made it clear that he wouldn’t want anything new, just something from a thrift store. I let him know I would see what I could do

I want to try and make these guys’ lives as easy as they can be. They are helping us out when they use our equipment. They already work every day of the week, all year long. They spend long lengths of time away from their friends and family to come be herders. At the end of the day, the community’s desire to coexist with the wolves depends on the buy-in from the herders. People like Roberto and Doroteo are the ones using this equipment every day, in order to avoid depredations and conflict. I can go out there every day and talk to these guys, showing up to watch them load sheep and help count them, but if they don’t have the tools to assist them with the task that we have presented them with, they are far less likely to do it. Without the right shoes, backpacks, and clothes, their job of being a herder and a volunteer livestock guardian becomes far more difficult.

While talking about developing buy-in from the project’s partners in my previous blog post, I’ve spoken about the need to develop human relationships based on trust. At the same time, this trust needs to be followed up with reciprocity. We both help each other out in a way that enhances both of our lives and furthers both of our goals. By getting the herders the equipment they need, i.e. backpacks and good shoes, their jobs and our goals will be accomplished much easier. I think this reciprocal generosity and mutual aid between the herders and the project will bear fruit for years to come; hopefully much longer than I am around to see. With that being said, I will be scouring the Gold Mine and the Attic for dependable gear to get out to these guys in the hopes of getting them on solid ground so that they can do their jobs as best as they can.

Hope to see you on the trail!

Logan Miller, Field Manager

Wood River Wolf Project

Not all that wander are lost

Week 4 of the project brought some snow and rain to the Wood River Valley, but it also brought me deeper into the world of the shepherds and ranchers. From clearer insights into the differences to operations, to seeing how sheep are transported and helping to count them, this week brought with it a more profound understanding of how these groups operate.

The goal for the week was simple: finish meeting with the local foremen. These guys form an integral part of the sheep operation, so getting to know them is critical to understanding how these ranches operate. Before I could do that, I had some unexpected business come up. Alfredo and Sixto called me and asked whether I could bring the dog at their camp up to them on my way to see them. “Can I bring you a dog?” I repeated, unsure if that’s what they asked me. “Yeah, yeah, there’s a dog at the camp, just bring it up to us.” I said I would give it my best. Upon arrival at the sheep wagon, I saw the dog, a mangy young white Livestock Guardian Dog. I whistled, called for it, and then got the dog food out to try and entice it. Nothing. There was zero chance this dog would come within thirty feet of it. I left it some food and water so that Alfredo and Sixto could get it the next day. Talking to them up at their tent camp, they told me that this was the second time the dog had been brought to them. “The first time, we came down to get it, and a tourist had taken it! It wound up in the animal shelter a few days later. We’ll go get it tomorrow.” Alfredo also let me know the foreman, Ray Mavencamp, would be moving their further north on Wednesday.

The next morning, I headed up to meet Ray. I showed up early to make sure I wouldn’t miss him, but when I got there Alfredo and Sixto told me that he wouldn’t be there till later in the day, despite having asked them when he would be coming by the day before. Oh well. I would try back later. Such is the nature of this work. Schedules and plans change like the wind as equipment breaks, gets lost or disappear.

This missed meeting let me head off to meet the herder that had just entered the Lake Creek area. This was the second band owned by the Faulkner Livestock Co. that I would get the chance to meet. Upon arriving, I saw the herder trotting off on horseback at a far faster clip than I could muster. Kicking myself for not getting there sooner, I went back to the sheep wagon to investigate. The door was swung wide open with a man inside eating some lunch. I introduced myself to Erazmo. We barely had a moment to chat before a truck hauling a trailer and a water-hauling truck pulled beside us. Two men get out, one speaking Spanish, the other following directions. Could this be John Etchart? I wondered to myself. That would be quite my luck. John is the foreman for the Faulkner operation. I had tried to catch him at various times over the previous weeks, but he moves quick and doesn’t stick around for long. He has a reputation for being a jokester, and he certainly exceeded my expectations. The man stepping out of the ranch truck seemed to speak pretty good Spanish, so I doubted whether he was the guy I was hoping to run into. “John?” I asked. “You must be Logan. How’re you doing?” I was thrilled to get to meet this guy, but before we could talk he had to get his business done. He asked the man that came with him to show Erazmo how to work the pump on the water truck, and then told him to take the truck for a ride to teach him how to drive it. Erazmo didn’t have much experience driving a manual, let alone a massive water truck, so this would be interesting to watch.

As Erazmo pulled away quite successfully, John and I got to talking. He reminded me of my grandpa with the way he cracked jokes without stopping to breath, barely cracking a grin to let you know he was joking. It turns out he not only speaks Spanish, but he speaks Basque as well, which is an incredibly challenging language to learn. He seemed enthusiastic about getting equipment to his herders as soon as possible, knowing that they were already deep in wolf country.

Once Erazmo came back, John went on his way. Erazmo and I talked for a while, and he showed me where he was from in Peru: Cajamarca. He uses his money earned here to pay for his two girls to go to school in Lima, the capital of Peru. He said he used to live in the countryside herding sheep, but now he lives in the city with his kids when he’s not in Idaho. It turns out he worked as a cook for the herders down in Arizona, cooking for large groups of people at a time. Before heading on his way, John yelled to Erazmo that he needed to show me some of his cooking.

I got lucky that day running into John, but I got even luckier heading back out to Greenhorn Gulch. There I found Ray Mavencamp and Alfredo setting up the corral for the next morning. He invited me to come out the next morning to meet with the Henslee brothers and see how they load up the sheep for transport. It seemed like the perfect chance to meet the Henslee family while also getting to see a bit more of the ranch work.

Very early the next morning I headed out to see for myself what loading the sheep looked like. When I got there, a livestock guardian dog had gotten away. I introduced myself to Mike and Mark Henslee, the two brothers that run Plateau Farms, and asked what had happened. He explained that if the dogs don’t get loaded into the corral before the sheep, they’re impossible to catch. “They hate getting loaded up in the trucks,” he said “The best way to keep these dogs away from you is to tell them: Come here boy!” I made a mental note that I would have to try that the next time the dogs start chasing me while visiting the herders.

Before long, the sheep-loading began. A series of fences lets them move sheep into different loading zones. The final loading area gradually narrows till its wide enough for one sheep at a time to enter. The sheep then run up a plank into the awaiting semi for transport. Meanwhile, Alfredo, Sixto and Ray stand in the corral whooping and hollering while throwing their arms up and shaking some hollow plastic tools filled with what seemed like beads. Sheep are extremely skittish animals, so this was enough to motivate them to move forward into the truck. Some didn’t and jumped higher than I ever would have thought it possible for a sheep to jump, nearly careening over the fence itself. Some moved so fast they were able to fit themselves between the metal bars of the corral. Still, the far majority nervously baa-ed themselves along the corridor, ready to be transported north into the Sawtooth National Recreation Area. As the first couple rounds of sheep were herded up, I let Mike know that I’d been bringing non-lethal deterrent equipment out to Alfredo and Sixto, and that we would have more coming as soon as our orders came in. He seemed relieved that the project had already gotten out to talk with the herders and bring them equipment. I thanked the brothers for letting me watch their operation work, said goodbye to Alfredo and Sixto, and headed on my way.

To finish off the week, I went to find Roberto again. Kurt Holtzen had shown me a much lighter, easier to carry way of setting up the Fox Lights. Using plastic posts, I can cut them down to the right height and eliminate the unnecessary burden of carrying extra weight for the herders. Cutting them down to about the height of a wolf makes them more effective because the lights are emitted horizontally. If the light is in the wolf’s line of sight, the light appears much brighter and thus is much more effective at deterring them. I brought a few of these posts out to Roberto, as well as a fresh, piping-hot chicken breast from Atkinson’s. He had asked me if I would bring him one, and boy he looked like he needed it when he showed up. His herd showed up first, with hundreds of sheep baa-ing incessantly, running towards a water trough situated just in front of Roberto and Darío’s sheep wagons.

Roberto arrived on foot. I had expected him to have his horse, but he left it up above. Once he got his flock settled, he dug into the chicken and cracked open a cold soda. After eating, he asked me to help him count his black sheep, which can be helpful to know whether other sheep are missing. Because sheep tend to stick together in groups, and because there are only a few black sheep to a flock, counting them can be a quick way of seeing whether a herder is missing sheep. For the next twenty minutes or so, I imitated what I had seen Alfredo and Sixto doing in the corral the day before, whooping and hollering to make the sheep moving up the drainage we were in. I moved back and forth to get at the straggles. Roberto stood at a vantage point to make sure he could see the whole flock and count them as they passed by. “Todo bien. Hay nueve.” All good. The nine black sheep were there. He probably hadn’t lost any others.

As Roberto prepared to head back up the hill, we watched as the sky grew ominously dark. He mentioned that he didn’t have a rain jacket. I asked him what else he might need, and slowly he told me that he could use some new work clothes, both shirts and pants, and a new backpack. All of his clothes are falling apart from constant use, day-in, day-out. His backpack’s zippers don’t close and the straps are close to coming off. He made it clear that he wouldn’t want anything new, just something from a thrift store. I let him know I would see what I could do.

 I want to try to make these guys’ lives as easy as they can be. They are helping us out when they use our equipment. They already work every day of the week, all year long. They spend long lengths of time away from their friends and family to come be herders. At the end of the day, the community’s desire to coexist with the wolves depends on the buy-in from the herders. People like Roberto and Doroteo are the ones using this equipment every day, in order to avoid depredations and conflict. I can go out there every day and talk to these guys, showing up to watch them load sheep and help count them, but if they don’t have the tools to assist them with the task that we have presented them with, they are far less likely to do it. Without the right shoes, backpacks, and clothes, their job of being a herder and a volunteer livestock guardian becomes far more difficult.

Roberto is a great example of how the differences between the operations allow each herder to be more or less successful regarding deterring wolves. Having one person tend 2,000 sheep alone, while living off horseback and in a tent almost every day, makes it much more difficult to convince them to trek around non-lethal deterrence equipment. His horse is already laden down with his camping gear and supplies. On top of bringing this around, to be truly effective he’ll have to camp closer to the sheep, stay out late and wake up earlier than he normally would. A one-man operation makes this extremely difficult. In contrast to this style of sheep operation, you have the Faulkner Livestock Co., which has two people to a band. These two guys stay in their sheep wagon every night, which saves them time during the mornings and evenings. On top of this, they have water trucks available so they don’t have to worry about bringing their sheep on sometimes lengthy journeys in the search of water. Having to people instead of one allows for a greater flexibility in response to potential wolf activity. One herder could stay in the wagon while the other goes to camp out near the sheep or set out the lights. They could switch every other day, rather than one being fully responsible for every aspect.

Of course, we still need herders like Roberto to use these non-lethal methods. Part of that will come through exposure and making his life easier in other ways. While talking about developing buy-in from the project’s partners in my previous blog post, I’ve spoken about the need to develop human relationships based on trust. At the same time, this trust needs to be followed up with reciprocity. We both help each other out in a way that enhances both of our lives and furthers both of our goals. By providing the herders the equipment they need, i.e. backpacks and good shoes, their jobs and our goals will be accomplished much easier. I think this reciprocal generosity and mutual aid between the herders and the project will bear fruit for years to come; hopefully much longer than I am around to see. With that being said, I will be scouring the Gold Mine and the Attic thrift stores for dependable gear to get out to these guys in the hopes of getting them on solid ground so that they can do their jobs as best as they can.

Happy trails, all!

Logan

Next week: A Midnight Visitor

The Thousand Lives of Sheep and their Herders ( June 22nd – 28th )

Coming into the Wood River Wolf Project, I felt excited about the work: running around the steep, breathtaking mountains of central Idaho saving the wolves, and yet after a few weeks at this, my appreciation for the less glamorous parts of the project is slowly becoming my favorites. Don’t get me wrong, when I get to the top of a ridge and see the far-off Pioneer Mountains towering above me it still takes my breath away. At the same time, I am coming to realize that the true beauty in this project stems from me discovering the seemingly forgotten challenges, stories, and characters that embody this magnificent landscape.  

As an example, I met with one of the ranchers this week, Corey Peavey, to introduce myself and to find out more about his operation this season. Just physically, Corey’s terrain is different than the other operators. Sure, the ranchers all work in the same general area, but the north-facing drainages of the Pioneers are far different in terms of grass and shade than the comparatively barren slopes of the southern Smokey Mountains. Almost exclusively sagebrush hills are replaced by thick Doug fir, willow and aspen. There is more water, and seemingly more wolves.

Talking with Corey, this year, it seems like it will be a test. The drought may prove challenging as streams dry up earlier than normal. The coronavirus is making it nearly impossible to get herders from Peru. On top of that, there is the constant fear of losing sheep to predators. Even so, he seemed excited about the prospect of having folks from the community coming to camp out with the sheep and scare the wolves away from them.

Ranchers like Corey Peavey are just one part of this web. While he’s dealing with travel routes for the sheep, herders on the other side of the valley are handling the everyday pressures of this wild landscape: this week it was bears. An early morning call from Roberto had me rushing out to the mountains. A bear had killed a sheep, so I went out to document it and cover the body with tarps to speed up the decomposition process. This served as the perfect time to bring him the Fox Lights and t-posts to increase protection from potentially interested wolves in the area. As I wrote last week, Fox Lights emit random bursts of light to imitate human activity. We place them on t-posts driven into the ground to raise them up to the eye level of the wolves. By imitating human activity, the Fox Lights have shown to discourage wolves from straying too close to sheep herds.  The smell of a carcass can attract predators from many miles away; thus, it is very important to have deterrence methods in place to keep them away from the smell of a rotting carcass near live sheep.

Finding the shepherds can be extremely difficult. The steep terrain and their constant movement proves to be a great challenge. Roberto kept telling me “Once you get to the first tope (hill), just go to the second tope.” He didn’t get much more specific than that. After reaching the first tope, I looked around at the infinite topes of the Smokey’s. This was going to be fun.

Fortunately, his horse tracks and the sheep trail lead me to Roberto’s camp high up on a ridge. “¡Pensé que el oso te comió! (I thought that the bear ate you!)” he laughed.

Roberto’s camp is quite different than Alfredo and Sixto’s. Roberto has a tent, sleeping bag, a cook stove, and a cooler. Not much else keeps him company, other than his dogs, two horses, and a portable radio blasting classic rock into the otherwise deafening silence of the high mountains.

Roberto’s dog Rambo eyes me suspiciously.

Roberto called me at about 10 in the morning. After getting supplies ready and tracking him down, I arrived around 3 in the afternoon. By the time we got to the kill site, nothing remained but a small puddle of blood. The bear had returned and taken the carcass with it. The dogs sniffed the trail out revealing some excrement and blood trailing down the steep slope. We carried airhorns with us in the off chance that the bear came back.

Roberto is disappointed that we cannot find the carcass drug off by the bear.

Descending the mountain, Roberto noticed a tin shed. We got closer to check it out. An old mining shack revealed itself from the dense cover of trees. Inside, names had been written on the decaying walls. Gregorio, Jaujua, Peru, 1996. Gregorio-Luis, Peru, 1996. Lingering memories of past herders cling to the same walls that sheltered miners many years ago as they etched a living out of these same mountains. (1883)

The following day I brought a solar panel to Alfredo and Sixto donated by Sarah Michael, a volunteer whose spirit and drive helps keep this project going. Approaching their camp, I found a long dead sheep carcass since dried by the sun and wind. I looked for any signs of predators nearby but didn’t find anything. I asked them about it, and they said it had died a while ago and that the dogs had eaten it clean. Fortunately, they will be moving from this area the following week. They also use their Fox Lights and sound makers, like air horns and whistles, at night to help scare away any hungry wolves attracted by the smell of the sheep.

Talking with Alfredo and Sixto, they asked me whether I played any instruments. “Just a little guitar here and there,” I replied. I asked them and a huge grin spread across Alfredo’s face. “Saxophone,” he laughed. His dad laughed replying “I play the accordion.” I was shocked. What an impressive combination. I wondered to myself how effective a father-son band of dueling saxophone and accordion might be in keeping wolves away from the sheep.

As I sat and asked Alfredo some more questions about where they were headed next, Sixto put a plate down on my lap. “Comida peruviana. ¡Disfruta!”

I couldn’t refuse. The plate of piping hot veggies and rice was already on my plate, so I dug in and it was delicious. Sixto took a video of me eating the Peruvian dish to send to his family back in Peru. After finishing up the unexpected meal, it was time to get back on my way. They will be moving camp in a couple days and I’ll go out and meet with them when they do.

Speaking of musicians and shepherds, I had the chance to meet Doroteo, another herder in the Faulkner operation. Doroteo plays the violin, which he keeps with him in his sheep wagon. He represents yet another style of operation. Rather than tents or tarps as his primary way of tending to the sheep, Doroteo spends most nights in his sheep wagon. He has worked in the valley for 8 years and has known many of the people that held my job previously. He knows about our work and is ready to get the equipment that we supply because he knows that it helps him keep his band safe.

When thinking of Idaho, I often think of cowboys and miners rather than Peruvian shepherds, and yet these folks have been here for decades. They lead quiet lives, tending their sheep mostly out of sight in the big country of the Smokey, Pioneer, and Boulder Mountains. They’ve formed a part of this area for years now, and they all come with their own unique stories and personalities. Some are quiet and reserved, while others are friendly jokesters. They all take pride in their work, tending to their herds day after day, even though it’s hard, lonely work. Their personalities and experiences are a key part of the diversity of this project and area.

My hope is that we can continue building community with these elusive characters in the Idaho mythos so that they are remembered not only as shepherds, but as community members working to avoid conflict and promoting coexistence with livestock and wolves.

Happy howls,

Logan

www.woodriverwolfproject.org

Field Season 13 Begins!

Hello readers. My name is Logan Miller, and I’m the Field Manager for the Wood River Wolf Project this year! I’ll be running around the Valley for the next few months checking in with the shepherds, working with volunteers, and keeping my eyes peeled for wolves.

My first week saw me meeting with various members of the project (while social distancing of course), including local ranchers, concerned members of the community, and dedicated volunteers. There is a such a passion for the project in this area that it is tangible in the air. I feel lucky to be stepping into a project so deeply intertwined with the community.

Fortunately for me, this work isn’t all meetings. I spent a couple days doing what I love: hiking around and looking for the new shepherds on the forest in the hopes of talking to them about the project and introducing them to non-lethal deterrence techniques. After spending a while looking for a reported sheep band up near Greenhorn Gulch, I decided to try my chance a bit further south near Bullion Gulch. I found the sheep and slowly made my way through them and their nervous bleating, careful not to spook them. As I made my way through the crowd, a deep WOOF stopped me in my tracks. The massive head of a Great Pyrenees guard dog raised itself above the flock until the dog stood well above waist height. These dogs grow up with the sheep, so they consider themselves part of the group. They look it too, as their off-white fur makes them practically indistinguishable from their companions at a distance. Like you should with livestock guardian dogs such as this one, I kept a generous space between us. He paid me little attention, and I passed peacefully up the road.

A couple of concerned clients.

Nearing the crest of the hill, a small figure in the distance began bobbing ever closer into view. A shepherd on horseback! I hurried up the steep road to meet him. I introduced myself to Darío, a herder from Peru. We chatted for a bit and I introduced him to the project, which he had never heard of. He was on his way down to move the sheep around, so I let him get back to work. Onto the fun part: equipment inventory.

Foxlights, radio telemetry, air horns, fladry, spot lights, and much more.

I met back up with Darío the following day to bring him some equipment, including whistles, air horns, and a starter pistol. I ran into his camp tender on my way there, and boy did I feel lucky. The word around town is the ranchers here are harder to find than the wolves themselves. I introduced myself and we talked about his operation and how we could work together this year while waiting for Darío to tie up his horse. While we may have differing points of view regarding wolves, but at the end of the day we both share important core values like coexistence and honesty. With the camp tender around, I showed Darío the starter pistol and air horn, explaining more about the project as we went. He was more than thrilled to have this new gear that could save his sheep from some roaming wolves.

Darío ended up calling me excitedly early the next morning, letting me know I needed to come down and meet the new shepherd on the block. Early Saturday morning I threw on my boots and went to meet Roberto.

Roberto was more than happy learn about the project, the wolves, and how we can work together. It’s a hard, lonely life being a shepherd, moving sheep back and forth across the gruesomely steep mountains around the Big Wood River Valley, and he seemed to enjoy the chance to talk to someone other than his flock. After assuring him the equipment is free and that we only ask that it be returned, a grin spread across his face and asked when I would be stopping by again. We said farewell, and I headed north to try my luck out finding another shepherd.

While I didn’t succeed in tracking the band down around Ketchum, I found some other exciting signs. Looking down at my feet, scat after scat filled with hair and pieces of bone appeared before me. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I continued down the elk trail looking for prints. Several disappointing moments ensued, followed by a fat pawprint in the middle of the game trail. More and more prints continued until I was sure of it: wolves. After a more than fulfilling day, I headed down the hill content yet ready to get back out there again.

A couple potential wolf tracks found off the beaten path.

This project is complex. We are an unusual assemblage of people from diverse backgrounds, beliefs, and ways of working. We all have our own ideas, worries, and limits. Despite these differences, we know that coexistence is an essential part of the future of ranching and the Big Wood River community. It isn’t an easy road. There will be serious setbacks and obstacles to overcome, but through collaboration, honesty, and a dedication to conflict reduction we can avoid livestock depredations and keep the wolves in this region howling into the night. 

Howls to you all,

Logan

Logan Miller

Wood River Wolf Project 2020

Project Field Manager

Contact: Logan@WoodRiverWolfProject.Org