The sound of cold steel against cold steel breaks the silence that typically accompanies winter this high up in the Mission Mountains. Luke Lamar readjusts the hammer in his hand, looks around as if he’ll somehow spot the echo he’s created, and then takes another swing at the nail that’s pinning the deer leg against the tree trunk. It’s -17˚C, and he grunts as he drives the nail through frozen muscle until he’s convinced it’s secure.
It has to be. If he’s going to collect DNA samples from the Canada lynx and wolverines he’s studying, he has to make sure they’ll struggle with the bait long enough to leave a trace.
As conservation director for the Montana-based organisation Swan Valley Connections (SVC), part of Luke’s job is to organise efforts to learn more about two of the most elusive species on the planet. He’s responsible for planning and implementing a Rare Carnivore Monitoring Project that looks to collect lynx and wolverine data in an area of North America known as the Crown of the Continent, a Switzerland-sized expanse of national parks, ranches, forests, mountain ranges and communities that contains some of the most intact wildlife habitat on Earth.
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Working specifically in the south-west portion of the Crown, Luke and his fellow researchers have spent the past 10 years collecting lynx and wolverine data across the roughly 600,000ha they survey. The data has given researchers a better idea of how many individuals are in the region, whether they’re male or female, their movement patterns and even family genetics. This wealth of information can then be used to determine trends and activity hotspots, and in turn guide conservation efforts and forest management plans.
Luke and his fellow researchers have spent the past 10 years collecting lynx and wolverine data
Before this monitoring began in 2012, little was known about the lynx and wolverines of the Southwestern Crown. “You can’t conserve a species if you don’t know anything about it,” Luke says. “We have learned an awful lot about lynx and wolverine in this landscape and how things have changed in just the past 10 years.”
That knowledge doesn’t come easy though. “Sometimes we’re working on beautiful sunny days, and sometimes it’s in blizzard conditions or sideways, cold rain,” Luke says. “We’re out there in pretty much any weather condition. The only time we don’t go out is when the high for the day is below -17˚C. A lot of preparation goes into safety. There are always those winter risks where something could go wrong and you could have snowmobiles that break down in the field, and then you end up spending the night in the middle of nowhere. We have to be ready for that.”
Why one would even think to conduct research in such challenging conditions comes down to two main reasons: wildlife is easier to track across snow; and bears are hibernating. Even though lynx and wolverines exist in the Southwestern Crown year-round, researchers would rather not contend with hungry grizzlies tearing apart bait stations in the middle of summer. As such, biologists ride snowmobiles high up into the mountains during some of western Montana’s coldest months, cut tracks through the deep snow until they’ve found an active wildlife route, and get to work.
Luke drops the hammer on the packed snow and sheds his jacket before wrapping wire around the skinned deer leg, sourced from roadkill, to make it even harder for the carnivores to pull it down. Below it, he tacks a dozen metal brushes to the trunk. The idea is relatively simple: use the bait to lure the species up the tree for a quick meal, then collect the hair samples that get snagged on the brushes in the process. The harder it is to free the bait from the tree, the more times the animals try, and the more DNA samples they leave behind.
“You could have snowmobiles that break down and you end up spending the night in the middle of nowhere” Luke Lamar, conservation director at swan valley connections
What makes this approach unique is that it’s non-invasive, meaning it doesn’t require researchers to capture, sedate, handle, collar and release an animal back into its habitat in order to harvest useful data. It’s also a more effective way of collecting data, but even so, last year researchers set up 239 bait stations, spent a total of 275 days in the field and logged over 7,000km in track surveys, yet were only able to collect genetic material on 13 wolverines and 35 lynx in the entire Southwestern Crown. It shows just how rare these two species are.
To even attempt to scan this large an area for such reclusive wildlife takes more than just grit and endurance in harsh conditions, it takes cooperation. In the mountainous and often heavily forested terrain, partnerships are critical to ensuring the work is done thoroughly and on time. While SVC has spearheaded much of the study, it’s been supported by dozens of field technicians and funding from organizations and agencies including the US Forest Service, the Nature Conservancy, the Bureau of Land Management and the University of Montana.
“None of this would have happened without our partners,” Luke says. “We couldn’t have pulled this off by ourselves. It took a group of people, and they realise that just looking at their individual lands for lynx and wolverine is only part of the story. They also see how habitat connects across the landscape. We’re now having much larger conversations about land management.”
Eric Graham is one such partner. With more than 20 years of field experience, his ability to track wildlife in the Southwestern Crown is unparalleled. Working as wildlife coordinator for another local conservation group called the Blackfoot Challenge, he assists SVC by setting bait stations and collecting genetic material. He has been involved with the project from its inception, and his respect for the work is matched only by his respect for the wildlife he chases, whose territories can be huge – a single wolverine’s home-range can span as much as 1,500km².
“When you’re out there, you’re following in the footsteps of those animals and seeing exactly how they move through the country,” he says. “When you’re backtracking – following an animal’s tracks backwards to see where they’ve been and what they’ve done – you might find remains of snowshoe hare prey and see where they went on a hunt, or where they bedded down for a while. I’ve been blown away by the way they move up and down steep ridges. It’s like they’re climbing the tallest peaks just for the fun of it.”
Translating that respect into policy-guiding data takes help from the National Genomics Center for Wildlife and Fish Conservation in Missoula, Montana. As a founding researcher at the facility, laboratory supervisor Kristi Pilgrim has been working since 1999 to develop the non-invasive model for harvesting wildlife DNA. Her team’s analysis of bait-station samples provides a better idea of what’s happening – and changing – on the landscape.
“One thing that is really important about our work is that it’s not just a standalone product,” she says. “The information we get from DNA tells us one piece of the picture, and then we can overlay that with other movement data on lynx or wolverine over time. I like that our research is best when it is complemented by the help of others as well as from other data streams – that’s when you can get a fuller picture of the species or the ecosystem.”
What might be even more useful than what the research says about lynx and wolverines now is what it might reveal about their future. While reintroduction efforts have occurred in places such as Colorado, the Southwestern Crown is one of the southernmost naturally occurring ranges for lynx and wolverines. As both species rely on a healthy snowpack for both hunting and den sites, climate change could threaten their long-term survival. Now equipped with a decade of research data, SVC and its partners can use the information as a baseline to monitor changes that could impact wildlife down the road.
“It’s important to monitor that southern edge of their distribution, because that’s where you’d expect climate change impacts to show up first,” Luke says. “These animals are the canary in the coal mine.”
Take lynx, for example, which have evolved to hunt in the snow. Their wide paws, long legs and near-silent movement through terrain make them remarkable predators. Their preferred meal is the snowshoe hare, which can make up a whopping 95 per cent of their diet. When hare populations are healthy, lynx thrive. When there are too many lynx, hares are over-hunted, resulting in a decline in lynx populations until hare numbers rebound. In most cases this cycle is natural, but what is not yet known is just how deeply climate change will impact this relationship.
Wide paws, long legs and near-silent movement through terrain make lynx remarkable predators
Even though snowshoe hares change coats between white and brown depending on the season, it can take up to 10 weeks to change colour completely. If winters are shortened or snowpack is reduced, their white coat against the brown dirt makes them more vulnerable prey not only for lynx, but also for predators less suited to hunt in snow. Their population could plummet at unnatural rates, which means lynx numbers could soon follow suit. With Canada lynx already listed as Threatened under the Endangered Species Act and a decision on whether or not to list wolverines expected in the coming months, work such as the Rare Carnivore Monitoring Project is critical in informing decisions on protecting wildlife.
But just because these ecosystems may be sensitive to climate change doesn’t mean they’re destined to fail. Lynx and wolverine are learning to adapt and although the Southwestern Crown also hosts human activities such as ranching, logging and timber-thinning initiatives that reduce forest fire risks, there are efforts to create landscapes where they and humans can successfully coexist. The study’s results give forest managers the most accurate data about where animals are and, importantly, where they are not.
“We get a lot of lynx and wolverine detection on what we call the ‘working landscape,’ where there’s logging, recreation and other things,” Luke says. “You can have landscapes with both logging and lynx, you just have to be thoughtful about it. We are proud to have some of the rarest species on Earth where we live and work, but it doesn’t have to be an either/or situation to protect them. You can have good land conservation and land management activities and still have these species. That’s one of the reasons why this work matters.”
As both species rely on healthy snowpack, climate could threaten their long-term survival
If you look hard enough from this high up in the Mission Mountains, you can almost see Highway 83 through the snow that’s started to fall, cars filled with people eager to explore and settle in the valley below. Luke understands that newcomers will keep finding their way here to discover their own slice of paradise, and with them will come development that threatens to tilt the balance he and his partners are trying hard to maintain. As if realising he’s working against the clock, he snaps up his jacket, starts his snowmobile and takes off down the trail. He throttles toward the next bait station, looking to uncover mysteries in a place still wild enough to hold them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rob G Green is a documentary photographer and videographer based in Montana in the USA. He is a National Geographic Explorer and Emerging League Member of the International League of Conservation Photographers, and focuses on the connection and conflict between people and place.