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