After The Crash

Here’s another decades old article I decided to edit and update as it addresses an issue that’s been in the news a lot of late, especially in some of the mid-western US states.

For years, it seemed white-tailed deer numbers were only going in one direction – up. No matter where one looked, deer populations were on the rise. In some parts of  North America, particularly the mid-west, the far west and in southern Canada, they exploded.

Hunting was fantastic. Each year new state or provincial harvest levels were reached and record book bucks were being taken everywhere. Deer hunters will talk about the turn of the century deer hunts for a long, long time.

But good times don’t last forever. In a growing number of locales, the recent story is more often about decline. In some areas it’s more akin to a crash. Except, it seems, in urban and suburban landscapes. Towns and cities everywhere increasingly report problems with nuisance deer.

In the northerly fields and forests, though, not so much.

Hunters are having trouble coping with the crash, in part because it’s a new experience.

Numerous factors can set off a population crash. Predation, disease, habitat change, weather and hunter harvest, usually in some sort of combination with one another, are commonly blamed. There’s always someone or something to blame when deer numbers stumble.

Winter

In northern forests, a harsh, severe winter can trigger a crash, but more often, it takes two or three successive bad winters to do in a herd.

Snow is a scourge for deer because it forces them to burn a lot of energy just to move around. Deep snow covers up the best food. Bitingly cold temperatures don’t help. Deer, weakened by snow and cold can get sick and are more susceptible to predators, disease and parasites. In deep snow, even healthy deer can be easy prey for packs of wolves.

In short, winters can be hard – very hard – on deer.

Historical Trends

Many areas of North America where deer have, in recent times, been common to abundant, historically had few deer. On northern and western ranges, for a variety of reasons, there’s been a general shift from large, herding species like caribou and elk, and sometimes mule deer, to the smaller and more solitary whitetail.

In many places, deer are essentially an invasive species.

Some of the best deer ranges in NW Ontario were formerly home to herds of caribou.

Since the appearance of whitetails, around a 150 years or so ago, the numbers of deer in any given area has typically been a series of contractions and expansions. The recurring pattern is mostly similar: numbers grow, then skyrocket, crash and rebuild. A complete cycle might take few decades to play out.

The late Patrick Karns, a great Minnesota biologist, postulated that deer – and moose – went through cycles of abundance and scarcity across vast landscapes every 40 to 60 years or so.

Cycles can sometimes be measured or timed by crashes. A crash is always a shock to hunters because they occur relatively infrequently. When hunters grow up during a period of mild winters, there tends to be a lot of deer and hunting is good. Sometimes, things just seem to get better and better.

But what goes up, eventually and almost always, comes down.

Ups and Downs

Contrary to the popular notion that nature is in balance, nature tends to be in a constant state of flux, and mostly out-of-balance. Deer, in a constant struggle for survival, are adept at taking advantage of favourable conditions, and quick to exploit an opening. So when conditions are good, deer flourish. But when conditions deteriorate, deer decline. Occasionally, a tipping point is reached that sees the population crash. It’s all very normal.

When deer numbers are high for extended times in forested habitats, they can literally eat themselves out of house and home. But as long as winters are relatively snow-free, deer numbers can stay high. With little or no snow, deer can thrive even if food is scarce – sometimes the best food might be leaves from trees like poplars that fall to the forest floor.

On arid, western ranges, deer may rely on brushy draws, coulees and river bottoms for browse when snow cover is extensive. But when successive winters are relatively snow-free, deer have access to thousands of acres of open range to feed.

A long string of exceptionally mild winters, on ranges where long, snowy winters are the norm, is both a blessing and a curse for deer and hunters. Deer initially thrive and hunting can be great – but as deer numbers climb, habitats take a beating. Often, the average size of individual deer declines and health problems become prevalent. Antler size diminishes.

I took this deer in the fall of 2014, after another severe winter. A prime buck of at least 4 1/2 years, it had relatively small antlers.

Hordes of hungry deer can virtually strip the range of everything that’s edible. Towards the extreme, shrubs that deer like to eat begin to disappear, gnawed to nothingness. Even tree seedlings fail to establish. Prolonged periods of abundance can mess up habitat for a long time.

When food becomes limiting trouble lies ahead. When a severe winter does come along, there’s not enough food to go around. How bad the losses are to the deer herd will vary, but losses as high as 90% have been recorded.

By the end of a long, cold, snowy winter, deer are in poor condition.

Despite declines in hunting success, most biologists look at a crash as being more good news than bad – although the deer and most deer hunters probably wouldn’t agree.

The good news is that a setback where deer numbers fall gives damaged feeding habitats a chance to recover. For the remaining deer, food will be more abundant and nutritious. Plus, many of the smaller, weak, sick and very old deer will have perished, leaving only the most fit individuals. That’s good for the overall health of the herd as well as improving the genetic make-up of the herd.

But there’s no doubt a crash is devastating.

In some cases, deer recover from a crash at a snails pace. It’s estimated it took almost two decades for deer to recover following a historic deer population crash in northern Maine. In parts of northeastern Ontario, deer have never recovered to former levels of abundance after being slammed by a series of bad winters in the late 1950’s and early 60’s.

After the initial crash, deer populations typically experience further declines. A major factor can be predation by wolves (including coyotes).

Wolves can exacerbate deer decline.

At first, predators cash-in from a crash. A lot of weak, sick and starving deer can make hunting easy. In fact, a hard winter with high deer mortality sees wolves get through the winter fat and happy.

But trouble looms.

In the immediate aftermath of a crash, predator populations are still more or less at the level they were with the bigger, before the crash, deer population.

So with a lot fewer deer, the still abundant wolves are on the hunt. Many of the remaining deer get gobbled up. Eventually, wolves run out of deer, and their numbers drop too. Before that happens, there can be a lot of carnage. It’s especially bad if the next winter or two are also ones with a lot of snow.

That’s not all.

From what I have observed in Ontario, I think some packs of wolves actually concentrate on finding and killing big bucks. And it makes sense – big bucks are weakened after weeks of sparring and fighting and wooing and mating. And they are smelly, so are relatively easy to find.

In the aftermath of a crash, and for several years thereafter, or at least until wolf numbers take a hit, it can be really, really tough for hunters to find a big (old) buck.

Because no two years are the same, estimating over-winter deer loss is a bit of a guessing game. However, research by folks like Louis Verme and John Ozoga shed light on what counts most, and their findings from years ago have been integrated into many of the models deer management practitioners use regularly today. Amazingly, it takes very few environmental measurements to get a good estimate of over-winter deer mortality.

Years of study distilled mountains of evidence to produce some basic truths – for one, it’s generally acknowledged deer are in trouble once snow depths reach about 18 inches, or 50 cm. The longer the snow hangs around, the worse it gets – as a ‘rule of thumb’, when there’s 50 cm of snow or more on the ground for 50 consecutive days, deer mortality will be substantial.

Sometimes, like in Maine and northeastern Ontario, deer populations take years and years to recover. But on these and many other northern ranges, the failure of deer to quickly recover to former levels of abundance is a sign of a bigger problem.

Although it’s subtle, long recovery times are usually linked to changes at landscape level.

Across a wide swath of North America’s deer range, tens of thousands of acres of once great deer habitat, created by decades of land-clearing and extensive logging, are now reverting back to a more mature forest.

With the collapse of the pulp and paper industry there’s a lot less logging in northern forests. Newspapers were what consumed vast swaths of forest annually, but those days are gone, the victim of bits and bytes.

Logging practices elsewhere have also changes. Selective cutting of trees, rather than clear-cuts, are now the norm over much of deer range. Less and different logging practices don’t provide deer with the abundance of good deer habitat that was once the norm.

Logging methods have changed over the years and there is much less of it as well.

In poor quality habitat, predators – especially wolves – can really keep the lid on deer herds. It a phenomenon David Mech and Patrick Karns identified in the Lake Superior Forest of Minnesota way back in the 1970’s. Similar results were documented in Algonquin Park, Ontario, about a decade earlier.

But these lessons were almost forgotten in the early years of the 21^st century when winters were mild and deer numbers grew and grew and grew. But winter, the Grim Reaper, did return. Deer numbers are way down now.

The Good News

A population crash does have its silver lining. Fewer deer let over-browsed habitats recover, so over time, deer have more food and it’s yummier.

What a crash does is re-set the clock. If the range still has the fundamentals – a suitable mixture of food and cover – deer populations will recover.

Recovery is the stage of a cycle when deer are healthiest. It can also be the best time for hunters aiming for the trophy of a lifetime.

Keep in mind a buck doesn’t have to be old to produce a trophy-sized rack. Granted, most bucks are programmed to achieve their greatest antler growth in their fifth or sixth year, but that’s not a hard and fast rule. The late Ian McMurchy, the biologist who examined Milo Hanson’s world record Saskatchewan buck, told me he estimated Milo’s buck was maybe only 3 ½ years old, and certainly no more than 4 ½. Milo’s buck, taken near the town of Biggar, is like much of the Canadian prairies. Forest cover there is minimal and winters are frequently brutal. As a result, deer numbers are normally relatively low. Deer that do survive are big and healthy and whenever snow is minimal, the bounty of food is almost limitless. Antler growth can be phenomenal. In forested habitat with similar circumstances – a population below carrying capacity and abundant and nutritious food – expect to find trophy-sized bucks at relatively young ages.

Especially after a mild winter or two or three.

Me holding the re-mounted Tome Degere, buck, a huge buck (net B&C score is 246 ^2/8ths) was taken in NW Ontario in the 1940’s, during a time of low snow depth winters and a newly expanding deer population.

Closer to Home

In recent years, my home hunting grounds of northwestern Ontario gained a reputation as a deer hunting Mecca. Deer were everywhere, and hunters streamed in from across the continent, even from Europe. Many a hunter harvested their dream buck of a lifetime. Bag limits were liberal, and freezers were filled.

What happened was deer reached unbelievably high densities over wide areas, largely owing to consecutive and abnormally mild winters. There was also a bit of luck, as when deer first became abundant, and a deep snow winter came on schedule, deer didn’t take a hit like they normally would have. Coincidentally, the woods were full of arboreal lichens, a favourite winter food on northern ranges. A spruce budworm epidemic had just finished off killing millions of balsam trees, which had became encrusted with lichens as they died. Lichen abundance peaked the winter deer needed them the most.

An abundance of food can help deer through even a severe winter. A favourite food on northern ranges is the arboreal lichen Usnea, also known as ‘Old Man’s Beard’.

Over the course of several more years and more mild winters, deer numbers burgeoned. Although they managed to vacuum up all of the lichens, food wasn’t much of an issue as long as snow cover was minimal.

But trouble was brewing. Starting with the 2007-08 winter, the pattern of low snow winters stopped. In the years since, most winters have been long, cold and snowy. And although a deer decline – even a crash – was evident by about 2015, wolf numbers remained stubbornly high.

By 2009, the pattern of easy winters in NW Ontario had ended. Over-winter mortality became substantial.

Deer numbers, following the winter of 2022-23 that hung on into May, have now bottomed out here in northwestern Ontario. From what I see and hear and read, it’s the same in northern Manitoba, north-eastern Minnesota, parts of Wisconsin, and elsewhere.

Will deer numbers return to their former robust levels?

I don’t know. There’s a famous quote by many, including the great Yogi Berra that says: “It is difficult to make predictions, especially about the future.”

But there will still be deer.

And hopefully, not only in our cities and towns.

Wolves are Always Hungry

Well, another post about wolves. The articles I write for magazines, like this one for Ontario Out of Doors, are usually approved through a process by which I submit queries and the editor, or editorial team, picks and chooses. There seems to be an inordinate affinity for stories about wolves, at least from me. Oh well, if that’s what they like….

So enjoy. As usual, this is the story as I submitted, without their edits. And bonus photos again!

A timber wolf on a deer hide bait.

An apex predator, the wolf is a valuable component of a healthy ecosystem. Wherever they’re found, they do a reasonably good job of keeping wildlife populations from running amok and they weed out the old, the diseased and the sick. Despite some good attributes, wolves aren’t the heroes of the woodlands.

Wolves – which in the broadest sense include Coyotes, Gray or Timber Wolves, Brush Wolves, Algonquin Wolves and many other permutations in Eurasia and elsewhere – are, in some respects, all the same.

A coyote. Note the upper right of the photo!

For one, all wolves are canids. And all wild canids, wherever they occur, are ravenous predators – with a diet that is mainly meat.

The wolf evolved as a successful predator of big game by becoming a lean, mean, fighting machine. They don’t put on fat – they’re always hungry. They are recognized as being intelligent, agile and fleet of foot. Wolves are like a population of professional athletes.

But catching food that can run away and often fights back is very, very hard work. To survive, wolves can and will scavenge.

Food that can’t be eaten all at once is food to be eaten next; food that’s found is bonus.

The hunger that keeps wolves alive is also the wolf’s Achilles heel – hunger can make wolf the hunter, become wolf the hunted.

Baiting

Given their propensity to scavenge – it’s no surprise that baiting is one of the best and most efficient ways to hunt a wolf.

Baiting can work as a wolf hunting tactic no matter the season.

In summer and autumn, wolves supplement their diet with vegetation like berries and gut piles from road kill and hunter harvest. Baiting still works, but during warm spells, bait has a short shelf life.

Conversely, a bait site in winter can be effective for weeks with minimal refreshing.

In winter, it’s easier to have a set-up where you can watch the bait at a distance that lowers the risks of being detected by wolves and still provides good, clear shooting opportunities.

Unless you plan to hunt the site immediately, a bait station needs to offer enough incentive for wolves to re-visit the site; too much easily obtained bait, though, can be counter-productive. Make it so the wolves will have to gnaw, dig and scratch for their reward.

A big paw!

My late friend Gary Gehrman often used his spring and early autumn bear baiting stations as wolf baits in late fall and into and into winter. Gary would put meat chunks, scraps and bones in his secured bait barrels that had a heavy gauge mesh wire on the open end.

A technique preferred by generations of wolf hunters is to freeze carcass parts into ice-covered waters and wait for wolves to cross the ice.

Often, pre-existing stands or blind for deer, moose or bear are suitable stands for wolf hunting.

If you don’t have a pre-existing stand, you’ll need to improvise.

Baits and Set-up

The best baits are the remains of what forms the wolf’s dietary staple – parts and pieces of legally harvested animals like deer and moose. Roadkill and furbearing mammal carcasses – especially beaver – are also top-notch baits. Possession and use of carcasses for wolf baiting that come from sources other than animals you yourself legally harvested, including roadkill and fur-bearers from trappers, may require notifying MNRF and/or obtaining a free of charge Notice of Possession. Check with the local MNRF office for details.

A trapper skinning a beaver. Beaver is an excellent wolf bait.

Most wolf hunters secure the bait.  Bear bait barrels, as mentioned, can work. On icy water, cut a number of wedges large enough to freeze chunks of carcass, hides and large bones. Puncture through to water; pack and freeze the bait in with slush.

Scatter some extra bait around the site. Bits and pieces of blood, flesh and bone will saturate the spot with scent and attract ravens, eagles and other scavengers.  The squawking of birds will alert any nearby wolves that’s something’s up.

A hunt can be done as soon as the bait is out, but waiting and – if necessary re-baiting – is also an option.

If you use trail cams and are patient, photos can provide useful information such as the number of wolves visiting the site, the timing of their visits and more.

I’ve found that wolves have tended to visit my bait every 7 to 10 days. Studies have shown wolves make regular patrols of their home range, often encompassing many miles.  

If a bait station has been used before, the wolves will know about it and will be on high alert on their approach. But a new bait pile the wolves don’t know about will have the same result.

Ensure new blinds blend in. Wolves have excellent eyesight and will easily spot anything that seems out-of-place.

When and What

The most likely times wolves visit bait is dawn and dusk. It’s the way of the forest. However, they can show up at any time.

A deer is happy….

Wolves travel in packs of various sizes, but there are also many lone wolves. Wolves, including coyotes, are commonly seen in pairs. If it is a pack that comes to the bait, it’s highly unlikely they will all show up at once.

Wolf hunters require an Outdoors Card, a Small Game Licence and proof of firearm accreditation when hunting with a gun. In some areas a specific wolf tag may be required and in those areas, there is no party hunting.

There is a large area, which includes Algonquin Provincial Park, where hunting wolves is generally not permitted owing to concerns regarding the Algonquin Wolf.

The Worldly Wolf

Here’s an article I had published in the Spring 2023 Issue of ‘Lake of the Woods Area News’, a local Northwestern Ontario stewardship association magazine. Some of the photos in this blog were not a part of the published version.

A wolf pup, roadside in the early hours of dawn.

Wolves occur in North America, Europe, Asia and North Africa. According to some, there are three species and close to 40 subspecies of wolf. Others believe there is only one species of wolf – the Gray (or Timber) Wolf (Canis lupus). As all three wolf species and sub-species are believed to be able to interbreed and produce viable offspring, I’m in the camp that says there is only one species of wolf.

There is widespread acceptance that wolves and coyotes (coyotes are only found in North America) are separate species, although the situation is not cut and dried. For example, weights of adult Gray Wolves are reported to be between 40 – 175 lbs (18 – 80 kg), while coyotes tip the scales from 20 – 40 lbs (9 – 18 kg).  Wolves in the 40 lb range are often referred to as ‘brush wolves’.

Gray wolves are typically gray in colour, but black, white, creamy coloured and reddish-brown wolves are not uncommon.

A typical gray-coloured wolf, licking its chops after a meal of road-killed moose.

A light, cream coloured wolf, with a few porcupine quills on its face.

Coyotes are distinguished from wolves by their smaller size and having a more slender, pointed snout.

A lot of people have an interest in wolves. It’s not surprising, nor should it be. Wolves have a long relationship with humans – our pet dogs are their direct descendants.

Wolves are carnivores that rely upon meat (but not exclusively) to survive. Sometimes wolves – and coyotes – kill people.

Nowadays, wolves seldom attack people. But in Old World history, wolves often attacked and killed people. In France there are about 9,000 recorded wolf attacks between the 17th and 19th centuries. Between 1764 and 1767, about 100 men, women and children fell victim to something called the Beast. The Beast is presumed to have been a wolf; some say it may have been a werewolf.

Wolves (Ma’iingan in Ojibwe; Mahihkan in Cree) are prominent in North American Aboriginal cultures. For some, their relationship with wolves is sacred; in others, wolves are treasured as a brother or a sister. In general, Aboriginal people tend to not hurt any wolf.

There is a belief that the wolf was the creator of the world and a guardian of the underworld. Part of Ojibwe culture has their fate and that of the wolf intertwined. It’s been said “As the wolf goes, so go themselves.”

In Inuit mythology, the gigantic wolf spirit, Amarok or Amaroq, is often described as a giant wolf that devours hunters reckless enough to go out hunting alone at night.

Note the shining eyes of a second wolf.

Wolf numbers decline

Overseas, wolves were feared and were a nuisance for those who raised livestock; Europeans and their neighbours hunted wolves relentlessly. In Britain, it’s believed wolves disappeared sometime in the 1700s, following centuries of persecution.

Unrelenting hunting pressure took a toll. By the End of World War II, wolves had been extirpated from all of central Europe and most of northern Europe.

Europeans brought their distaste of wolves with them when North America was colonized. It’s thought that about 2 million wolves once roamed North America, but by the 1960s they were gone from all the lower 48 except for Michigan’s Isle Royale National Park and parts of Minnesota. They were still common in Alaska; in Canada wolves remained common, but did become absent or rare in large swaths of countryside

In the 60’s, public sentiment about the environment began to shift. This included a much more tolerant attitude towards wolves. Worldwide, many countries enacted tougher legislation and regulations on hunting and trapping that helped provide wolves with opportunities to recover.

Unequivocally, wolf populations are recovering. Still, they currently occupy only about two-thirds of their former, historic, worldwide range; a meagre 10 percent in the continental USA.

Here in Northwestern Ontario, wolf populations continue to thrive, despite decades of hunting, trapping and poisoning. Hunting and trapping is still permitted; however, rules and regulations have been tightened considerably and wolves killed by humans are much reduced from the days of airplane hunting.

Today, the resident attitude about wolves is largely positive, interspersed with reasonable trepidation.

In the 1960s, the Department of Lands & Forests, the precursor to the Ministry of Natural Resources, often used poisoned baits to try and kill wolves.

New times

The wolves in this region survive largely on a diet of deer, moose and when available, beavers. Further to the north, caribou are a favoured prey. Of course, wolves catch and kill other animals, including bears. As detailed in Farley Mowat’s fictional book Never Cry Wolf, even mice might do in a pinch.

Wolves consume blueberries and other types of foods that aren’t meat, in moderation.

Some wolves turn to scavenging. They can be regular customers at dumps and landfills, spending time and effort scrounging for scraps.

Wolves are of concern to local livestock and to much dismay, seem to be particularly fond of (hu)man’s best friend.

Such traits are not particularly endearing. It’s very distressing to see or hear about a much beloved family pet being snatched by a wolf when out for a walk. Such attacks may be somewhat uncommon, yet consistently recur.

While less traumatic, it can be unnerving and menacing to see a wolf in the yard or on the street. People think these are places where wolves don’t belong.

Having been given a chance, wolves are adapting to living in close contact with people.

But living in close proximity to wolves is not without risk.

It was recently reported that the European Commission’s President Ursula von der Leyen’s prized horse Dolly, was killed by a wolf just 300ft from her home in northwest Germany.

While unpalatable to some, regulated hunting and trapping of wolves appears to be necessary to keep wolf numbers in balance with societal mores.

Ups and downs

Wolf populations tend to fluctuate with prey abundance.

When white-tailed deer numbers exploded in Northwestern Ontario several years ago, wolf populations followed suit. Wolf sightings by deer hunters, reported on Ministry of Natural Resources postcard surveys, increased by more than 500% in less than 10 years.

In addition to the abundance of prey, wolf numbers are kept in check by wolves themselves. Studies have shown that wolves are pack animals with territories they defend. A pack can be as small as 2 animals; large packs may have more than 30 members! About a dozen is the average.

Most wolf packs consist of two parents and their puppies, including one to three year old offspring that have not yet headed out on their own. David Mech, a well-known wolf researcher, called pack leaders alpha animals in his early research, but later recanted on that theory.

Most now believe the adults are in charge simply because they are the parents of the pack.

Wolves leave the pack for a variety of reasons. One is to look for a mate and establish a pack of their own. Wolves may kill other wolves to claim territory.

Some move great distances. In four months, one left the Algoma area and went east 2,500 km to establish a territory in Quebec. One collared in Michigan travelled 6,800 km in a year and a half. It passed through Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Ontario and finally Manitoba, where it was shot (legally) in the Whiteshell.

Other radio-collared wolves have been tracked moving between Riding Mountain National Park in Manitoba and the Boundary Waters in Minnesota, traversing Lake of the Woods.

For interesting, locally pertinent information about wolves, check out https://www.voyageurswolfproject.org/.

We may not like everything about a wolf, but the presence of wolves makes the world a better place.

A pure white wolf – but not an albino.

Climate Change and Cervids

It’s been a while since I’ve done a post. There never seems to be enough time.

This post is an article I had published in Ontario Out of Doors magazine. The published version is much reduced – it was originally written to be a ‘feature’, but it wound up being one of my columns, which are only about half the length of a feature. I like the long version better.

What Happens to the Populations of the Cervids if the Climate is Rapidly Changing?

Climate change.

Some days it seems to be what everyone is talking about. In the mainstream media there’s always something about climate change, sometimes nothing but. On everything Internet, it’s inescapable.

How Ontario’s cervids – white-tailed deer, moose, elk and caribou – respond to a rapidly changing climate is of great interest to hunters.  Cervids respond quickly to changes in their environment – a big winter dump of snow can see thousands of white-tailed deer perish. Although forest fires are often described as catastrophic, Ontario’s cervids are (except on agricultural and urban landscapes) dependent on forest fires in creation and maintenance of suitable habitat. 

Although there’s no specific definition as to when weather becomes ‘climate’, there’s somewhat of a consensus that 30 year time periods are the minimum lengths needed to look for trends possibly indicative of climate change.

30 years is also plenty of time to see drastic changes to cervid populations – often attributed to weather – as many hunters can attest to.

For hunters, what happens to the deer because of climate – weather – is always a concern. Fewer tags are issued, opportunities decline.

Responding to population shifts often means changes to how hunting is managed. The ways and means by how licences are issued, how many tags are available, who gets a tag and more has seen a lot of changes over the past 30 years, especially for deer and moose, by far our most hunted cervid species.

If 30 years is short term that leaves a lot of room to roam around in to try and define long-term.

Wildlife biologists and cervid scientists turn to geological time periods when looking at how species evolved and adapted to changing environmental conditions, changes that let some species flourish while others sank into oblivion.

Geological times are time periods measured in millions of years.

The Distant Past

The late, world renowned Dr. Anthony (Tony) Bubenik wrote that antlered deer, including the cervids, first appeared during the early Miocene epoch, beginning about 30 million years ago. Epochs have the shortest time periods of geological time; epochs typically last more than three million years.

Over the ensuing millions of years, antlered animals thrived and prospered, but during and in the aftermath of the Pleistocene epoch – a time period from 2.5 million years ago to less than 12,000 years ago, a noticeable uptick in species extinction occurred, including many deer and closely related species.

A feature of the Pleistocene was a climate with repeated periods and cycles of glacial advances and retreats.  

Presumably, the changing climate – especially the ice and cold – played a major role, although the how and why of the extinctions remains in dispute.  Some believe excessive human hunting was a contributing factor.

For example, populations of Irish Elk – some had racks with a 12 ft spread! – began to die-off about 12,000 year ago, with the last gone from the wilds of Russia only some 7,700 years ago, long after the glaciers had melted.

Imagine hunting Irish Elk!

The Present and Recent, Past Trends

Today, when the talk is about climate change, there’s not much discussion or concern about imminent glaciation, although that fear did surface in the 1970’s. Mostly, it’s all about warming, a rise in sea levels and more extreme weather events, such as heat waves, hurricanes and snow storms.  

Extreme weather events are known to be hard on cervids, particularly white-tailed deer.

For example, severe winters of prolonged and deep snow wreak havoc on whitetails. Weeks of 50 cm of snow or more on the ground see deer die of starvation and succumb easily to predation. Fawns don’t make it. Even rack size diminishes.  

Short-term climate changes are linked closely to whitetail population explosions and collapses in Ontario.

In the 1983 MNR publication “The White-tailed Deer in Ontario”, the great peak of deer numbers around the end of WW11 and the subsequent crash is attributed to a number of factors, including the fact “the climate changed. The long-term warming trend that began at the turn of the century ended in the early 1950’s, and winters became colder with deeper snow”. 

Interestingly, what came later – starting in the late 1980’s – was a time of great winter warm-ups that coincided with deer numbers that reached the highest population levels and range occupancy ever seen in Ontario.

More recently, winters have tended to be cold and snowy and deer have declined – a lot. Deer hunting has suffered.

In parts of Ontario, particularly in the northwest, moose populations similarly grew and then collapsed; again, with strong linkages to climatic shifts. 

The Future

Given weather and weather patterns are known to have impacts on cervids – elk and caribou included – changes in the frequency and intensity of weather extremes (temperature, rainfall, snowfall, etc.) over the short term will impact cervids and hunters. Long-term impacts will follow.

Should populations increase, I think it’s safe to say hunting opportunities will also increase. If populations decline . . .

Keeping climate change simple, the following general trends commonly discussed, with accompanying potential impacts to cervids, are:

• milder, shorter winters

In general, white-tailed deer populations, moose, elk and caribou will experience population increases

• longer, hotter summers

Difficult to assess. Hotter, drier weather can go hand in hand with drought, forest fire, insect infestations and more. Short-term and long-term habitat impacts can differ.  

• more frequent, bigger storms

Generally negative for all.

There are numerous caveats: some of the caveats with milder, shorter winters include;

• With a spate of mild winters, deer populations will increase. But more deer support more wolves, a problem for slower reproducing, moose, caribou and elk. 
• High numbers of whitetails can be a disease threat to other cervids. Whitetails suffer little from a parasite known as the meningeal, or brain worm, but it’s extremely lethal to caribou and will often kill moose. Elk are somewhat more resistant to brain worm than moose. Dr. Murray Lankester, Lakehead University parasitologist, says moose suffer when deer populations exceed about 5 deer/km². 
• Other parasites, e.g., winter tick on moose, are likely to increase, with negative implications.

Hotter, drier summers could:

• See an increase in size and frequency of forest fires and a surge in moose populations; moose population explosions following big fires are well documented.
• Benefit elk, as they are known to thrive on hot, dry landscapes.
• Would likely have a negative impact on caribou.  For one, woodland caribou in Ontario prefer to winter in large, even-aged conifer stands of fire-origin; frequent fires could lessen the area where stands grow to old age before burning again.
• Whitetails can thrive in hot, dry climates. For reasons previously explained, more deer can be bad for other cervids. However, it’s worth noting that in western Canada, high numbers of deer, moose and elk can co-exist because the intermediate host of the meningeal worm – terrestrial slugs and snails – can’t survive. It’s simply too hot and dry for them.

More and bigger storm events are likely mostly harmful and negative.

• Even if winters are shorter, huge dumps of snow could still be disastrous to all the cervids.
• Extreme droughts can reduce food quantity, quality and overall habitat suitability for all.
• Floods and ice storms can be devastating to cervid populations.

Final Thoughts

Obviously, there are a multitude of possibilities afforded to climate change and what might happen to cervid populations in Ontario.

In the words of baseball legend Yogi Berra, “It’s tough to make predictions, especially about the future”.

Keith Munro, OFAH Wildlife Biologist, believes good management practices are essential, no matter what the weather and climate sends our way.

“Predicting impacts of climate change is challenging, but if cervids are kept at ecologically sustainable levels with quality habitat, populations are more resilient to change. For example, overabundant deer that exhaust their available resources are less prepared for extreme winters than are properly managed populations.”

Cervids are remarkable and adaptable animals. Hundreds of studies have detailed their abilities to survive and thrive over a wide range of climatic conditions.

With proper management, Ontario’s cervid populations are likely to continue to survive and thrive for many, many years to come; good news for hunters.

Moose Talk

A short while ago I had a call from Sarah Frankcom, a Biology student at Carleton University in Ottawa (my old Alma Mater). She had an assignment and wanted to talk about moose, mostly with respect to the area north of Kenora, in the vicinity of Grassy Narrows. Part of the assignment, or project, was to produce a Podcast.

So here it is.

Over the years, I’ve done a number of media interviews and given numerous presentation to various groups, so I was reasonably well-prepared for this. However, in listening to the tape, there’s a lot more that could be said.

But it is what it is.

I hope you find it at least somewhat informative

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Uv7NMwF97imtqGq_LgXP7W2KygbA_1tp/view

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Wildlife Highway Crossings

This gallery contains 6 photos.

Photo captions, top left, clockwise: Elk beside a hwy in Alberta; a snapping turtle laying eggs on the shoulder of a road; a wildlife crossing sign (kudu) in Namibia; the Hwy 69 crossing, photo courtesy of MTO; a white-tailed deer crossing a hwy; a white timber wolf on the TransCanada hwy east of Kenora.

Ups and downs

I haven’t blogged for many months. I’m sure most will understand when I say ‘there have been a myriad of reasons’ for my yap gap.

My last post was – posted – before the Covid madness had descended. The pandemic has changed every-bodies lives, everywhere in the world and continues to do so.

There’s a lot of talk about what the new normal is going to be, the one that emerges after all this period of change settles down, but who’s to know when that will be, or what it will look like. A phrase that I keep going back to is one about how the only constant in our lives is change. Every day is a new day, also comes to mind.

Except for a swath along the equator, most of the world sees constant, seasonal change. Even equatorial regions have alternating wet and dry seasons. No two seasons are ever exactly the same, although patterns and trends may be clearly evident.

Since my last posting, the ice and snow that covered our field, marsh and forest has melted away, replaced by many shades of mostly greens. A blue pond now compliments the summer skies. Goslings and ducklings have come to be and fawns now need be aware of bears as well as wolves. It’s summer!

Anyway, thoughts about the consistency of change that comes with the seasons is an underlying premise of this blog. Things are always different than they used to be, although trends are clearly evident..

The posting has been published. It’s my latest column in Ontario Out of Doors magazine. 

As per my practice, the posting is the unedited version of the column. I know the two are always a bit different, but I seldom compare the two and if I do, it’s only a very cursory look. Editors edit – that’s their job and most are good at it.

I’ll keep posting. There was a time when I posted about once a week – well, I can’t do that anymore.

Until next time, stay safe.

woodland caribou

ruffed grouse

bull moose

wild turkey

white-tailed deer

deer eating lichen Usnea Spp.

timber, or gray, wolf

 

What Goes Up, Does Come Down

By: Bruce Ranta

I heard the hunter before I saw him. When we met on the trail, he looked at me, somewhat perplexed, then blurted out “They’re extinct!”

We were hunting moose – moose weren’t ‘extinct’, of course, but it did seem that way. Neither of us had seen a fresh track or any other sign of moose.

Unfortunately, the lack of moose didn’t surprise me. Moose on my stomping grounds close to my Kenora home had been on a steep decline for several years – and not just where I liked to hunt. Moose populations had been on a similar downhill slide in much of northwestern Ontario, neighboring Manitoba and Minnesota, as well as further afield, in places like Vermont and New Hampshire.

What was going on?

There were many theories. To sort it through, Dr. Murray Lankester, a parasitologist with Lakehead University and I analysed data pertaining to moose and deer in the Kenora area going back, in some cases, over 100 years. We concluded that several factors were driving forces behind moose (and deer) population fluctuations.[i]

For one, we found that both moose and deer populations surged in the aftermath of large, landscape scale disturbances, namely fires, large blowdowns, clear-cut logging and spruce budworm epidemics.  Deer abundance was also tied to winter severity – long, cold and snowy winters knocked deer down – short winters without much snow saw big upticks in deer numbers.

In the 1990s, deer and moose numbers swelled in tandem. Winters were mild and food was abundant. Even a bad winter in 1995 didn’t have much of an impact on deer – the woods were full of easy to reach and nutritious arboreal lichens growing on millions of balsam trees killed by a spruce budworm outbreak. The same thing had happened 40 years earlier.

When deer became super-abundant, moose numbers began to plummet. Brain worm appeared to be a factor. The parasite has no discernible impact on deer, but is deadly on moose. When deer densities get above 4-5 deer/km², the disease becomes problematic to moose.

Deer densities rose to at least twice that level.

Exacerbating the problem was the weather – a series of wet summers made conditions ideal for terrestrial snails and slugs, the brainworm’s conduit for the disease.

High deer numbers also led to skyrocketing wolf numbers.

The quantity and quality of moose browse declined precipitously with a slowdown in logging and the maturing of burns and blowdowns.

In short order, the moose population crashed.

Deer eventually depleted the supply of arboreal lichens. Winters turned cold and snowy. Wolves were everywhere. Deer too, crashed.

Today, there aren’t a lot of moose or deer in much of the Kenora area (except in the city where deer are relatively safe from wolves and people feed them).

With deer numbers down, will the moose recover?

Maybe, although with only low levels of logging and no recent large forest fires or blowdowns, moose habitat is presently sub-optimal.

Deer have continued their downward spiral owing to a spate of snowy winters and continued predation by wolves. With few deer, wolves will eventually crash. Then, with at least a few mild winters – deer might stage a comeback. The next spruce budworm epidemic will help, but that’s still a few years off (budworm outbreaks occur about every 40 years).

The fact is, ups and downs are normal in many populations of wildlife.  Stable populations, especially in seasonal climates, are the rarity.

What happened in the Kenora area isn’t exactly why moose – or deer – numbers have gone up or down elsewhere. Still, there are parallels and commonalities.

Food availability is commonly linked to population changes, as is weather, the abundance of predators and human hunting pressure. Diseases are also problematic, especially during population peaks.

Across North America, some populations of barren ground caribou have recently shown dramatic declines. Although somewhat alarming, it’s not unprecedented. Northern herds have a history of spectacular ups and downs. In Alaska, the caribou population dropped by more than 50% in the late 1970’s. In Quebec/Labrador, the caribou population jumped from less than 200,000 in the late 70’s to around 1 million in just 20 years. They have recently plummeted to only a few thousand.

In winter, caribou eat lichens, a very slow-growing plant, almost exclusively. Although over-grazing lichens isn’t the only issue they face (wolves, hunting pressure, disease and parasites and the weather are also important), food does matter.

After being reduced to paltry numbers (and extirpated in eastern Canada), wild turkeys, aided by re-stocking and re-introductions, underwent a huge expansion in range occupancy and population. But in the USA, turkey numbers peaked about a decade ago, and have since declined – again, not unexpectedly – ‘new’ or reintroduced populations often flourish, subside, then have years of – you guessed it – ups and downs.

While wildlife population ups and downs can’t be curtailed, they can be managed.

As OFAH Wildlife Biologist Keith Munro says, “We really need to take a big picture approach to wildlife management. Rather than focusing on a single factor that may be affecting a wildlife population, we need to consider the whole system which includes, but is not limited to, harvest (both licenced and rights-based), predation, competition between species, diseases, parasites, and habitat”.

But no matter what we do, what goes up – does come down.

[i] To read the entire study, see Ranta, B., and M. W. Lankester. 2017. Moose and deer population trends in northwestern Ontario: a case history. Alces 53: 159–179. https://alcesjournal.org/index.php/alces/article/view/227)

 

Deer and Winter

I haven’t posted in a while . . . been busy doing renovations to the house, among other things.

It’s been a relatively nice winter. The snow hasn’t piled up too deep, not overly cold and today it’s sunny! But hey, it’s a northern Ontario winter, which means that although there’s been snow on the ground since the end of October, there will still be snow on the ground a month from now. It gets to be a drag.

There are not many deer left in this part of the world. A few hang around the house, which is nice. And while there are still timber wolves lurking about, their numbers are down. How could they not be? Few deer and even fewer moose. Maybe they are Farley Mowat wolves, surviving on mice. 

Anyway, here’s my most recent column published in Ontario Out of Doors magazine. It’s the unedited version, as per usual.

What’s a Deer Yard?

Year round,we have deer in our yard, but our yard is not a deer yard. A deer yard is an area where deer concentrate during the winter months.

In Ontario, deer yards can be as small as a few hectares or cover tens of square kilometers – they have been talked about, described, managed and mismanaged for at least 100 years. Today, deer yards are more properly referred to as ‘deer winter concentration areas’.

White-tailed deer have been described as ‘yarding up’ for the winter ever since the days of early settlement, when knowing where deer were was critical information – especially during winter, when food and money were often scarce.

Deer biologists have long believed deer living in the forest, on northern ranges where winters can be long, cold and snowy, yard up for two main reasons: ‘energy conservation and as a defense against predators’.

Deer have relatively long legs, but by the time snow depths hit 50 cm, movement is severely restricted. Conifer cover intercepts snow and deer can move around under conifers with relative ease.

But, when deer from any given area are concentrated under conifer cover, food availability becomes an issue. Problems are exacerbated because browse is not that abundant under heavy cover and deer yards that are used year after year – a common behavior – tend to become over-browsed. Eastern white cedar, a tree that provides both food and cover, often has a distinct browse line, where there is no greenery below the reach of the deer.

To cope with deep snow, food shortages and potential predators, deer in forested areas make trails, use windswept ridges, frozen lakes and rivers, snowmobile trails and even plowed roads.

In the forest, conifer cover is a critical component of a deer yard – it’s usually where deer spend most of their time – but other, adjacent habitats are also important.

Deer don’t exist only in the forest. They also thrive in mountains, prairies, agricultural lands and, increasingly, in urban areas. Wherever they are, especially if winters are snowy, deer generally use habitats differently in the winter than during other times of the year.

For example, in southern Ontario, where forest cover can be limiting but snow cover often is not, deer still tend to concentrate in certain areas during the winter months. A winter concentration area might be a park, ravines, a string of woodlots or something else – anyplace where there’s resting, hiding and escape cover, abundant food and a dearth of predators.

In northwestern Ontario, deer yards used to be a problem with the old Land and Forests and later, the MNR. Managing a deer yards was problematic because the consensus was that deer in northwestern Ontario ‘didn’t yard up’. Since they didn’t ‘yard-up’, forestry and wildlife habitat management prescriptions weren’t applicable.  Deer did – and still do – concentrate their winter activities in certain areas, just not in what could be described as a ‘yard’.

Management issues around identification of deer yards were largely resolved with the adoption of deer winter concentration area concepts.

In Ontario, a mapped winter deer concentration area is information useful in land use and resource management planning on both private and Crown lands. All levels of governments, and agencies like the OFAH, have policies and directives that recognize deer winter concentration areas as a value.

Deer winter concentration areas are constantly changing. With time, forest fires, insect infestations, severe winds, floods, logging, and infrastructure development of all kinds change the landscape. Predation levels rise and fall.

Concepts and definitions of deer winter concentration areas are important, but it’s still okay to talk about ‘deer yards’. Just be sure to make it clear what you’re talking about . . .

The Loring Deer Yard

Situated in the wilds somewhat below the French River on the Pickerel River system, east of Hwy. 69 and west of Hwy.11, The Loring Deer Yards has been one of the largest and longest lasting deer yards in Ontario.

It was first identified as a deer yarding area soon after deer in central Ontario became common, around the turn of the 20^th century.

Severe winters, especially in 1961, wiped out tens of thousands of deer in the province, alarming many who loved deer and deer hunting.

Logging, which had seemed to coincide with surging deer herds in forested areas, was on the wane. The Dept. of Land & Forests was led to believe that by replicating logging efforts, the deer population south of North Bay could be rejuvenated.

By the late 1970’s, the Loring Deer Yard was an official MNR program. Bulldozers and snowmobiles were used to build and maintain trails to help deer move through deep snow; browse and later, other deer foods like pellets were provided; and, wolves were trapped to reduce predation.

Studies were done and results published. Policies, directives and reports were written.

There wasn’t a deer manager or biologist who didn’t know about the Loring Deer Yard and who hadn’t heard about Ernie Bain and Paddy Stillar.

By 1988, management efforts had doubled the size of the Loring Deer Yard. In some winters, it held as many as 20,000 deer.

But, time brings change. MNR(F) adopted new policies and directives. Active deer yard management efforts declined. Eventually, trail-making and feeding was a role for volunteers. Predator (wolf) control was discontinued.

In recent years, deer numbers in what was once the best known deer winter concentration area in Ontario, if not Canada, have plummeted.

Is the Loring Deer Yard history? Only time will tell.

Wolf Confusion . . .

A white Grey Wolf

A grey, Grey Wolf.

a Black Grey Wolf.

Typical Grey Wolf colour.

Some of the Kenora area wolves I have seen.

Back in 2014 I wrote on my blog how the local wolves, particularly the big wolves that prey on deer and moose, were still doing well. Locally, meaning within about a 100 km radius from the city of Kenora, the moose population had collapsed and white-tailed deer numbers were plummeting – but there were still a lot of big wolves around. Smaller canids, namely coyotes, were present, but not numerous.

These days, I can report that moose populations have not recovered and deer populations really crashed; there are still some deer around, but very, very few moose.

Surprisingly, a sizable population of big wolves has endured here, but maybe not as many as back in 2014. Coyote and other smaller wolf numbers seem to be up.

With respect to wolves in general, there remains much controversy regarding wolf taxonomy and wolf management. Research on wolves continues to provide interesting information on wolf biology.

Big wolves are widely distributed – they are found across much of North America and Eurasia, as well as India, China and even parts of Africa. There’s general agreement that the majority of these wolves are all one and the same species, the Grey Wolf (Canis lupus). Some claim there are not one but three species of wolf in the world; the Grey Wolf, the Red Wolf (C. rufus) and the Ethiopian Wolf (C. simensis). A few – mostly some Ontario-based biologists and scientists – say the Algonquin Wolf is also a separate species of wolf ( C. lycaon).

In North America, there is also the other ‘wolf’, the Coyote (Canis latrans), which many suggest is not really a wolf.

 

Coyotes – or Brush Wolves?

A Coyote – Kenora, Ontario

A Coyote – in Alberta

Small Wolves . . . .

The trouble with taxonomy is that there are no clear rules as to what constitutes a species. It appears that all these wolf species can interbreed and produce viable offspring. So are they all one species with a lot of variety, or  . . . what?  For example, the Red Wolf is in danger of extinction in large part because of hybridization (interbreeding) with coyotes.

The Algonquin Wolf was, until recently, referred to as the Eastern Wolf, a sub-species of Grey Wolf or perhaps a distinct species. However, recognized hybridization with Coyotes and Grey Wolves messed thing up and somehow it became the Algonquin Wolf. Interestingly, on the official Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry website on the Algonquin Wolf (https://www.ontario.ca/page/algonquin-wolf), the scientific name provided is Canis sp. Which seems to me to say: ‘We don’t know exactly what it is, but we know one when we see one.’

Anyway, regardless of the taxonomy, the prevailing attitude almost everywhere is definitely pro-wolf protection (the exception may be coyotes). Often, the attitudes and management direction seems to me, to be totally bizarre.

For example, on the USA side of Lake Superior, Grey Wolves have been re-introduced to Isle Royale (at great expense), after apparent inbreeding brought the resident Grey Wolf population down to two. Two wolves couldn’t keep the moose population in check and moose were eating themselves out of house and home.

The resident wolves on Isle Royale came to be there by crossing the ice, like the moose (when early Europeans went to the Isle, they found Caribou; apparently, there were no moose, or wolves).

Natural re-population of wolves from the mainland was thought to be a non-starter because climate change was making the chances of an ice-bridge in the future unlikely. Same with Caribou.

Meanwhile, over on the Canadian side, wolves crossed Lake Superior’s frozen waters a few years ago and pretty much wiped-out the resident Caribou on the Slate Islands.  Then wolves proceeded to do the same on Michipicoten Island – to save the not so long ago introduced Caribou (a species officially classed as Threatened under the provincial and federal legislation), the Ontario government  . . . decided to catch the Caribou and move them to (again, at great expense). . . the Slate Islands.  In other words, save the Caribou (???), but only by doing no harm to the wolves.

The Grey Wolf, by the way, is a species that in Ontario is not at risk under the Endangered Species Act, (they are common and widespread in distribution); although the Algonquin Wolf is listed as ‘Threatened’. By consensus, the wolves around Lake Superior are thought to be Grey Wolves, not Algonquin Wolves.

Back on Isle Royale, ice has made a bridge from the mainland to the Isle a couple of times in the last few years. On at least one occasion, researchers documented wolves from the mainland did cross the ice over to the island, but they didn’t stick around.

It’s supposed to be another colder than average winter in the Great Lakes Region, so chances seem good that in 2020 there will once again be an ice bridge from the mainland to Isle Royale.

Back home in Kenora, I’ve been seeing coyotes (brush wolves?) on our property over the last few months. I have seen tracks of much larger wolves, but haven’t seen one lately. When I was out deer hunting about 50 km from the house the other day, my hunting partner and I came across tracks of a pack of at least three big wolves.

Off property, I have been deer hunting on 8 different days – neither I nor my hunting partners on those days have seen a deer (or a wolf).  But one day we did see a moose!

Recent studies in Minnesota are confirming Grey Wolves can move vast distances and set up a new home range. Hundreds of kilometers of movement does not seem all that unusual, as evidenced by northern Minnesotan wolves re-locating to the Red Lake, Ontario area (about 300 kms, as the crow flies). See https://www.facebook.com/VoyageursWolfProject/ for interesting updates on their findings.

From my perspective, wolf management, or a lack thereof, is symptomatic of the problems facing the wildlife management profession everywhere.

Too much emotion, too little use of scientific principles.

It’s a big problem.

Another Winter Come and (almost) Gone

When I began to write this, on April 8, 2019, the temperature outside was hovering just above the freezing mark and it had just begun a rain/snow mix. Snow still carpeted the ground, although there were bare patches under some of the conifers and on some south facing slopes. The ponds and lakes were still ice-locked, except where there’s current.

Now, three days later, not much has changed, except it’s clear and cold (-6⁰ C this morning), rather than overcast with snow and rain.

Two geese showed up on the pond on April 5^th and hung out most of the day, before leaving, but they have since returned, at least once. Last year, geese arrived on the pond the same date. I suspect these early arrivals are to do with claiming the pond as their own in an effort to build a nest and raise some young, something that has been a failure on this pond two years running. Maybe this year will be different and both geese and ducks can successfully hatch and rear some progeny.

The wolves whittled the deer down again this winter, but there are still a few around. The deer population, overall, is a shadow of what it was about 10 years ago and seems to still be on a downward trajectory. As I’ve said before, I don’t think deer herds here will recover until the next spruce budworm epidemic is well underway, something that as far as I know, hasn’t even started yet. Interestingly, I did see a deer chewing on some lichens the other day, but like deer, lichen abundance is minimal.

A couple of weeks ago I gave a presentation to the Canadian Institute of Forestry, Lake of the Woods Chapter, on Moose Emphasis Areas, or MEAs. Basically, MEAs are large patches of forest – e.g., 5-10 thousand hectares – where the forest managers try to coordinate the creation and maintenance of good to excellent moose habitat when carrying out forest operations, namely harvesting, renewal and maintenance of wood fibre. Dr. Vince Crichton – Doc Moose – gave a presentation on moose and moose management in general, and there were two other presentations by District Biologists as to how MEAs were actually being implemented in approved forest management plans.

I think there was a general consensus that good moose habitat is a key component of managing moose, but other factors, including predation, disease and human harvest, are also important. Unfortunately, all factors, not just moose habitat, are difficult to control.

For example, starting with moose habitat, successful planning and implementing MEAs require a skillful planning team. But that alone is not enough, as public input needs to be accommodated. In many areas, the benefits of MEAs might not be realized without restrictions on road access (you need roads to practice forestry, but roads also provide access to human hunters and other predators).Meaningful restrictions on road access can be difficult if not impossible, because the public simply won’t accept them.

And good habitat, even with road restrictions, might not be enough. Sometimes, predators can suppress prey (e.g., moose) populations – which in some circumstances might warrant predator control. But these days, any talk of predator control seems to be met with a great deal of derision. Governments everywhere – certainly here in Ontario – have pretty much tossed the option of predator control aside.

There’s not much that can be done about disease, but at least there have been, in this part of the country, harsher, more snowy winters of late, which has reduced (a) deer populations, which in turn has reduced the incidence of brain worm, a major moose killer, and (b) moose tick abundance. Moose ticks thrive when winters are short, but take a hit from early and late snow cover (moose die-offs from severe moose tick infestations are fairly common in some areas). Fewer deer also mean fewer wolves, so again, that’s a good thing. Bears are another story.

Human harvest can be controlled to some degree, but again, there are issues that probably should be addressed, but can’t, or aren’t. These include:

(a) there is little control over harvest by Aboriginals and Métis, who do not require licences to hunt and are generally not subject to road use restrictions. Some Aboriginal and Métis groups and communities have voluntarily agreed to moose harvest limits, but there are no enforcement mechanisms to ensure compliance.

(b) despite reductions in the number of adult tags available to licenced hunters in many Wildlife Management Units (e.g., in WMU 6 there was a single bull tag issued last year – to me – and I didn’t fill it), there is still an unrestricted, two week hunt for calf moose. That means anyone with a moose licence can hunt and harvest (one) calf moose in any WMU during the ‘open’ calf season.

(c) there seems to be a mis-guided desire to have a bull:cow ratio close to 50:50. Doc Moose presented evidence that bulls can be substantially fewer in number than cows and still ‘get the job done’. It seems patently ridiculous to lower the number of bull tags and increase the number of cow tags, especially in WMUs where moose are declining and below population targets.

(d) there is also evidence that shows younger bulls are less effective breeders than older bulls, yet in Ontario, there are no restrictions on what kind of bull a hunter can harvest with a bull tag. Cows are less responsive to the clumsier wooing of young bulls as compared to mature bulls and young bulls have both lower sperm counts and lower sperm quality, making conception less likely. In addition, in many WMUs, there has been a tendency to have an early bow season, to allow hunters to call in a bull to the close range a bow hunter requires. As such, bulls are harvested before or during the peak of the rut. Fewer old bulls and harvesting bulls immediately before or during the rut might still let all the cows be bred – at least in those WMUs with a reasonable moose population –  but breeding might not be concentrated during the prime estrus, around the end of September. As a result, calving can be spread out over a longer period the following spring, making it easier for predators that specialize in taking young calves (i.e., wolves and large bears), thus reducing recruitment.

Perhaps the biggest hurdle to moose management is cultural. In Ontario, moose management is not the pressing issue it used to be for the government, replaced with concerns such as the plight of species at risk and a desire to deal with climate change hysteria. The perceived indifference to moose by the government is exacerbated by the fact that many hunters have little faith in government actions or policies, resulting in a ‘I don’t give a damn’ attitude. So poaching and a general disregard for rules have, in my opinion, increased (and I’m far from alone in believing that).

While I’m not completely convinced things can’t be turned around, I’m not in the habit of looking at things through rose-coloured glasses, either. The problems are huge and not easily addressed.

Still, outside of moose (and deer) world, life is not all bad.  Spring is in the air, or at least it should be over the coming weeks. I do look forward to the return of the migratory birds and seeing the return of the colour green.

Plus many a BBQ, with a cold beverage in hand, are looming in my future. And that’s a very good thing.