(Thx AAPC. More here.)

NPR did a piece last week about the alarmingly dwindling gray wolf population on Isle Royale which is definitely worth reading. Isle Royale, for those unfamiliar, is a large (200+ sq. miles) island in Michigan, off the northern shore of Lake Superior near Ontario. Isle Royale boasts no roads, flying or floating its visitors in by small bush planes or via ferry. The island also only provides year round home to a very small handful of people. Less people visit Isle Royale National Park in a year than the Smokies get in a day.

Isle Royale sits 15 miles off the shore from Ontario, its location playing an important role in the island’s moose and wolf relationship. This predator-prey relationship has been studied for quite some time, virtually untouched by human interaction. The island’s location allowed moose to swim to the island, it is suspected, sometime around the turn of the 20th century. This distance does not allow other “similar” predators or prey to swim to the island, like deer or coyote. It is thought that wolves then traveled an ice bridge from Canada as soon as 60 years ago, and numbers flourished to near 50+ until recent years. Wolves tend to prey on the weakest of the moose, allowing both species to in turn grow stronger and more vital.

Recently, because of “parovirus, bitter winters, hunger and warfare between packs” the Isle Royale wolf numbers have dwindled to 15, with a suspected one or two reproducing females. If both of these females were to die without raising a healthy litter of pups, this would spell the end of the gray wolf on the island.

Cold Splinters is hoping to make the jaunt to Isle Royale later this summer. Beautiful place.

Some of the information that this 1971 Museum Of Natural History record presents are now somewhat inaccurate (*), but there is nothing wrong with hearing Robert Redford talking about wolves in North America while you hear them howl in the background. Download the record below and click the image above for much more info. Side B has no Sundance Kid, just howling. The most perfectly terrifying sound from the “comfort” of your tent. 

MP3: The Language and Music of the Wolves – Side A

MP3: The Language and Music of the Wolves – Side B

When you’re out this spring gettin’ your land legs back, keep an eye out for the Ramp, or Wild Leek (Allium trioccum). These small wild onions have a strong garlicky odor and flavor. You can munch ‘em raw, sauteé them, add ‘em to a pesto, or make a ramp and wild morel quiche. This stinky veggie is getting some serious street cred at many restaurants these days (in the near shadows of the Morel mushroom). Ramps grow best on hillsides, in sandy, moist soil. Try checking close to the banks of small streams or rivers. The leaf of the ramp is broad, tender and bright green in color, fading to purple near the stalk. Before pulling up and chowing down you can verify it as a wild leek by tearing a leaf in half. You’ll know it’s a ramp by the smell. Holy onions. See ya at the Cosby, TN Ramp Festival?

The mid-February thaw here in the Great Lakes and the visit from our ol’ pal sunshine got me breaking out the Peterson Field Guide and brushing up on my local wild edibles. I know I’m jumping the gun a bit (a lotta bit), but seeing grass for the first time in months in bits and patches will tide me over. Cold Splinters toured Prospect Park, NY with “Wildman” Steve Brill (pictured above) a while back, but duck over to his website and get lost. The highlight of his site (aside from his real wealth of knowledge) is his archive of media surrounding his arrest in NYC in 1986 for “eating a dandelion”. Spring!

While Bald Eagles were removed from the endangered list in the U.S. in 1995, and from the threatened list in 2007, it is noted by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in a recent report that an alarming number of Bald Eagles are being found dead on roadways here in Michigan. As the winter sets in and lakes and streams freeze over, fewer available fish pressure bald eagles to scavenge roadkill, be it deer, coyote, fox or raccoon. Don’t know if this increase is true the nation over, but wherever you are, be careful out there.

The Kirtland’s warbler (Dendroica kirtlandii) is one of the rarest warblers in the wood warbler family. The bird’s only known nesting places are in small spots of the northern lower peninsula and upper peninsula of Michigan, Wisconsin, and Ontario. It wasn’t until 1996 that they found nests anywhere other than 60 miles from Oscoda County in rural Northern Michigan (and very few still). Kirtland’s warblers nest only in the low, ground level branches of young jack pine trees, between 5 and 15 feet tall. Once the trees mature to above this height, the lower branches die, along with their sheltered nesting spots. It’s ironic that the embrace of Smokey’s “Only You” initiative in fire prevention may lend to the eventual end of the Kirtland’s warbler without proper management. No fire means no natural rotation of trees, no new young jack pines.

Although Organ Pipe Cactus has its share of insect-eating bats, it is the nectar-eating bats that are the true heroes of the night sky and the Sonoran Desert. They are the primary night pollinators of the saguaro and organ pipe cactus, which makes them very valuable to the Sonoran Desert Ecosystem.

When the night-blooming saguaro and organ pipe flowers first open, they emit a sweet, musky perfume. The bats seek out the source of this highly attractive odor. They poke their long noses deep into the tubular cactus flower reaching for the sweet nectar. Their long tongues lick up the syrup. When the bats emerge from the flowers, their heads are covered with pollen. As these feeding bats fly from flower to flower, they also pollinate the flowers. After the bats have their fill, they often seek a night roost, a place where they can rest, digest their meal and groom themselves. Throughout the night, the bats will leave these night roosting spots to feed again and again, often returning to the colony to check up on their “pups.”

The Bubo-Bubo in slow motion.

I spent last week in Salt Lake City at Outdoor Retailer (photos and words to come), and from Utah, I went to New Jersey/Pennsylvania for a three day canoeing adventure down the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area (photos and words also to come). I have brown skin, a Chaco tan like you wouldn’t believe and a black pinky toe on my right foot that I have no recollection of breaking.

One of the most exciting parts of the canoe trip – which doubled as a bachelor party for a guy who used to, way back, write a post here and there for Cold Splinters – was watching bald eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) fly over our heads while sipping on warm beer. While the one pictured above hails from Alaska, there are quite a few living on the Delaware River, and when you don’t see them that often, it’s hard to remember that they’re real and not unicorns. 

That is one hell of an animal to see on the trail. 

MP3: Red Shadow Singers – Eagle Song **