by Scott Graham
Chuck inclined his head in agreement. “Sure. Along with the geysers, that’s what draws the crowds.”
“But unlike the Serengeti,” Lex continued, “Yellowstone’s predators do what they do in the midst of more than three million human visitors each summer, with those numbers steadily increasing year after year.” He shrugged. “We can’t exactly lock the people—the public—out of their national park. They own it, after all. But the fact is, we’re seeing mounting evidence that some of Yellowstone’s animals are changing their behavior based on the growing number of human visitors to the park. There’s the steady rise of bison attacks from too many people posing next to them for selfies. Plus, there’s the escalating habituation of elk, which are growing increasingly comfortable even in the busiest places in Yellowstone—wandering across parking lots at Old Faithful, giving birth outside the front door of the Mammoth Hot Springs Post Office, tearing up the flower beds in the Lake Yellowstone Hotel courtyard.”
“Those are grazing animals you’re talking about.”
“Not entirely. There’s the behavior of gray wolves to consider, too. Before their extermination in the early 1900s, the last wolves in the park had learned to be extremely secretive—to stay out of sight, deep in the wilderness—in order to survive. Since their reintroduction, though, the wolves have made themselves comfortable everywhere within the park boundaries. Yes, they’re in the backcountry. But they’re equally comfortable in the front country, too, denning within sight of Northeast Entrance Road in Lamar Valley, taking down prey right alongside Grand Loop Road, a mile from Old Faithful Geyser with its tens of thousands of daily visitors. The wolves are doing so well that there’s even talk they might be challenging grizzlies for supremacy at the top of the park’s food chain.”
“And now,” Chuck said, “you’re telling me you think the grizzly attack two years ago represented some new level of habituation by grizzlies as well.”
Lex looked to his right and left. Assured no one was listening, he lowered his voice even more. “I’m saying the attack may have represented that. The question we want to answer is whether this particular grizzly might have become so habituated, so accustomed to the massive human presence in the park, that it came to see the Territory Team as prey.”
Chuck sat up straight. “What?”
Lex crooked a finger, beckoning Chuck closer to him. “What if the bear didn’t attack because it was alarmed? What if it knew exactly where it was, and waited for the humans who would be coming to retrieve their camera? And what if, when those humans showed up, the grizzly went on the attack not because it was surprised, but just the opposite: because it recognized the members of the Territory Team as easy takings?”
5
Chuck gaped at Lex from across the cafeteria table. “That’s one helluva leap—from increased habituation of animal species to the idea that the park’s grizzlies are actually beginning to hunt humans.”
“Grizzly, not grizzlies. We’re talking about one bear here, whose extreme behavior presents lots of questions. That’s why we’re still working so hard to locate it—bringing in the Canine Team, doing everything we can to track it down.”
“You’ve even given it a name.”
“Notch,” Lex confirmed. He made air quotes with his fingers. “The ‘killer grizzly.’”
“Doesn’t the park service frown upon that kind of anthropomorphism?”
“We’ve made an exception in this case. Naming it, particularly by its defining feature, helps keep it in the public’s mind. Our hope is, if someone spots it, they’ll be more likely to recognize it and let us know.”
“But the attack was two summers ago. No one’s seen the bear since.”
“Grizzlies live for a quarter century or more.”
One of the scientists Chuck recognized from last night approached carrying a tray of food. Lex waited until she was well past their table before he resumed speaking, again bending toward Chuck with his shoulders hunched.
“I can tell you this much: Turret Patrol Cabin wasn’t chosen by chance. The entire Thorofare region around the cabin—the upper Yellowstone River valley and the Thorofare Creek drainage branching off to the southeast—is prime grizzly habitat.”
“Everybody knows that.”
“Yes, but everybody doesn’t necessarily know the area has become increasingly prime over the last few years. I’m sure you’ve learned Yellowstone’s grizzlies gorge on the nuts that fall from the whitebark pine trees each fall.”
Chuck nodded.
“And that the pine beetle population has exploded in the park in recent years as temperatures have increased with climate change and global warming. The beetles have munched through thousands of acres of whitebark pines across the Central Yellowstone Plateau, killing millions of trees.”
“So I understand.”
“The Thorofare region is the highest and coldest forested part of the park. The pine beetles haven’t arrived there yet. As the beetles have wiped out the whitebark pine groves across the lower parts of the plateau, more and more grizzlies have shown up in the Thorofare to feed on the pine nuts still produced by the healthy trees there each autumn.”
“Are you actually telling me you sited the research camp in the heart of the Thorofare region specifically because of its high grizzly population?”
“Turret Cabin is not far, as the crow flies, from where the Territory Team was attacked in Lamar Valley, and of all the places hit by beetles so far, Lamar’s one of the worst.”
“You’re thinking Notch might head for the Thorofare on account of the pine nuts?”
“It’s as good a guess as any.”
“But the nuts won’t ripen and fall from the trees until late August.”
“The camp will be operational for ten weeks, through mid-September. Besides, the Thorofare region is a big draw for grizzlies throughout the summer, too. The open divides over the Absarokas provide easy passage for the elk herds scattered across the central plateau inside the park, and for the herds in the headwater drainages of the Snake River south of the park. This time of year, with fresh, new grass sprouting everywhere in the high country, and with elk calf births by the thousands, grizzlies are on the move over the divides big time, grazing on the grass and munching any calves they can sink their teeth into.”
Chuck scrunched his face in bewilderment. “So you think this grizzly, Notch, might be a manhunter, and you’ve situated your research camp in the most likely place for the bear to show up?”
“The best outcome of all would be a safe sighting of Notch through the presence of lots of folks in a part of the park generally uninhabited by humans but well trafficked by grizzlies, then tracking down the bear from there.”
“Okay. Fine. I get it,” Chuck said. “But I still can’t figure out why you gave the all-clear for me to bring my wife and kids.”
“Because of what I just said—the presence of lots of other people.”
Chuck closed one eye, frowning. “There’s more going on here, isn’t there?”
“How’s that?”
“Jessie,” Chuck said, his voice gentle. “And your kids.”
Lex sat back, his eyes suddenly hooded. “What are you—?”
Chuck lifted a hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. You know how much I cared for her. I can only imagine how tough the last few months have been for you.”
Lex settled forward with a heavy sigh. “Sometimes, it’s all I can do to pull on my uniform in the morning.”
“Carson and Lucy, how are they doing?”
“Oh, you know. They loved their mother as much as she loved them. And now, they miss her as much as I miss her. But they’ll get through it. We’ll get through it.”
“It’ll be good for you, getting out of the office this week, won’t it?”
“Just what the doctor ordered. Or, the psychiatrist.” Lex smiled wearily. “I’m twelve months from retirement. I don’t know what I’m going to do when they shove me out the door next year. Jessie had all
these plans for us—Alaska, Europe, time with the kids. I couldn’t wait.” Tears welled in his eyes. “We had such a good life together.”
Lex blinked. A single tear trickled partway down his cheek. He brushed it away with a brusque stroke of his hand. “When Carson and Lucy were your kids’ ages, Jessie and I got them out camping and hiking and backpacking every spare minute we had.” A wistful look stole across his face. “Those were the best years of my life.”
Chuck spoke carefully. “Do you think part of why you okayed my bringing my family into the backcountry had anything to do with how much you miss those years?”
Lex slowly nodded his head. “Maybe,” he admitted. “I can’t say it didn’t. But I stand by the fact that it’ll be fine for them to be out there.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. No question.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “There’s no place on Earth more beautiful than the Thorofare region. Gene Rouse, one of the many seasonal rangers who have spent lots of time at Turret, brought his wife and kids in with him every summer, and I’m telling you, his kids loved every minute of it. There’s no better place for a family to be together, Chuck. Years from now, when your girls are teenagers and they’re busy hating your guts for not letting them stay out all night, they’ll still be thanking you for taking them to the Thorofare.”
Chuck pushed eggs around his plate with a fork, his appetite gone, his thoughts on the Territory Team video. As a loner with no close family connections, his life until two years ago had been free of complication. Ideas of risk vs. reward had played no role in the decisions he made to head into the backcountry.
The arrival of Janelle and the girls in his life had required him to change his thinking. All spring, as he and Janelle had hiked with Carmelita and Rosie to build their stamina in preparation for their Thorofare visit, he’d privately battled concerns about taking his new family to a place thick with grizzlies even as he’d openly shared his excitement for the upcoming trip.
“With the crowd we’ll have at the cabin,” said Lex, “there’s nothing to worry about.”
Chuck exhaled until he sat slumped in his seat. “Right,” he said. “Nothing to worry about at all.”
6
She actually attacked him?” Janelle asked Chuck.
“They had to pull her off the guy. He’s the lead researcher on the Wolf Initiative’s field team—Toby. Sarah’s the Grizzly Initiative’s backcountry team lead. She looks like she could be the lead singer in a punk rock band, though—mohawk, nose ring, the whole bit. Not exactly what I’d expect of a Yellowstone scientist, but quite a character, that much is obvious.”
“Clarence is interested in her, anyway.”
“That’s Clarence. As for her and Toby, they obviously hate each other. Chairs were flying all over the place, people scrambling for cover.”
“Science nerds—who’d’ve ever thought?”
“Hey. Watch who you’re calling nerds.”
“Not you, my science prince. Never you.” She leaned from the passenger seat of the pickup and kissed him on the cheek. A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she stroked his leg and whispered in his ear, her breath warm on the side of his face, “Nunca, nunca, nunca.”
Chuck grinned as he piloted the crew cab south from Canyon Village, headed for Yellowstone Lake. “That’s better.”
The girls occupied the back of the six-passenger half-ton he’d purchased for family-hauling purposes after his and Janelle’s quick courtship and city hall marriage two years ago. Skinny, reserved Carmelita, ten years old, sat at one end of the rear bench seat, while chunky, brash Rosie, eight, sat at the other end. They stared out their respective side windows at the passing trees, their eyes glassy and half-closed after their morning buffet in the staff cafeteria an hour after Chuck’s breakfast with Lex. The girls wore matching nylon hiking pants and bulky fleece jackets. Janelle sported a stylish, form-fitting fleece pullover and trim khaki slacks made of wind- and water-shedding nylon engineered to look like cotton. Waterproof gear duffles in a rainbow of colors filled the truck’s bed. The day was sweater cool, the morning sun climbing in the pale blue sky.
“We’re finally here,” Janelle said, looking out the window. “I’m so looking forward to this—our big summer adventure.”
Chuck took her hand. No surprise there. Janelle—just shy of thirty, thin as Carmelita, dark haired, heart faced, and olive skinned—had been rebelliously adventurous all her life. The rebellious part explained how she’d wound up a young, unwed mother of two daughters born to a drug dealer, now deceased, in Albuquerque’s rough South Valley neighborhood in spite of a loving upbringing along with Clarence, three years her junior, by their Mexican immigrant parents.
“Your new life as an outdoorswoman,” Chuck said, pushing thoughts of the Territory Team video and Lex’s speculation about the grizzly attack to the back of his mind.
“Reality TV: Alone in the Wilderness,” Janelle intoned.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but there’ll be a crowd of us out there. We’ll have our own tent platform, a mess tent for meals, the cabin to hang out in if we want. Best of all, we’ll be a week or two ahead of mosquito season.”
“No mosquitoes? You really are a prince.”
“Timing is everything when it comes to Yellowstone. The window of opportunity is so small—six weeks of full-on summer is about it.”
“Even with global warming?”
“Even with. The last of the winter snow will just be finished melting about now.”
“Which means whatever they saw...”
“...should be in plain sight. I can’t wait to see it.”
“It’s really that big a deal?”
“It’s pretty much the only thing the North American archaeological world has talked about all winter. We’ll hike up from camp, see what’s what, take some pictures, plot everything out. Should be the easiest contract I’ve ever worked—no excavation, hardly any cataloguing—especially with Clarence’s help.”
When things had calmed after the melee last night, Lex had introduced Chuck and Clarence to the other science teams. Lex told the scientists how much he’d enjoyed working with Chuck in Arizona, where Chuck’s firm, Bender Archaeological, Inc., had been awarded temporary contracts over a number of years to perform archaeological surveys and digs in advance of new construction projects in Grand Canyon National Park.
After the meeting, Clarence made his way through the chairs to Sarah’s side, his compact pot belly leading the way. He struck up a conversation with her, laughing and resting his fingers on her forearm as they spoke. He flashed Chuck a devilish grin a few minutes later as he escorted Sarah across the room, his hand at the back of her hot pink vest. Sarah aimed a look of her own at Toby, her eyes narrowed. Toby turned away from her in response.
Sarah’s dangling earrings twinkled in the gleam of an overhead light as she left the building with Clarence. Toby turned back after they were gone, his eyes on the door through which Sarah had exited.
Clarence didn’t respond to Chuck’s texts in the morning, nor did he answer Chuck’s knock at his cabin door. When Chuck peered through the front window, he noted the bed inside was crisply made.
With the Grizzly Initiative team scheduled to head across the lake to Turret Cabin two hours ahead of the Archaeological Team, Chuck wasn’t too worried about Clarence’s arriving at Bridge Bay in time for their scheduled mid-afternoon launch. He did wonder, though, how hungover Clarence would be when he showed up at the marina.
“The effects of global warming in the park are showing themselves more?” Janelle asked.
Chuck guided the truck along the winding road with one hand. “It’s the only reason we’re here.”
Janelle clicked the heater fan up a notch. “But it’s so cold, even in June.”
“Not as cold as it used to be. In the last twenty years, Yellowstone’s glaciers have melted away to a few lumps of remnant ice. The park’s alpine regions have lost half their year-round
snow coverage, and the speed of the loss is increasing. If present trends continue, year-round snow coverage will be a thing of the past in the park’s high country in another few years.”
“That won’t take much away from its beauty.”
She leaned forward to peer out the windshield. Pines swept past along the side of the road and sunlit meadows showed through breaks in the trees.
“You’re really okay with this, aren’t you?” Chuck asked.
“With what?”
He waved out the window. “All of this. I was raised with it. I never can get enough. But you’re a city girl.”
“I was a city girl.” She glanced at Carmelita and Rosie in the rearview mirror. “We were. You brought us something different. Something better.” She slid her hand from his and rested it on his shoulder. “Way better. It’s like I’ve been handed this gift—you, the mountains. It’s a chance to really live, not just survive, like the girls and I were doing before you came along.”
“Survive? I guess that explains the courses you’ve been taking—EMT Basic, Backcountry Medicine, Wilderness First Responder.”
“The girls are growing up. I’m about to turn thirty. You’ve got your archaeology, your thing. It’s time for me to find my thing, too.”
“And you’ve decided medicine is it.”
“You have to admit, it goes well with this outdoorsy life you’ve got us living.”
They approached a slow-moving recreational vehicle on the narrow road. The lumbering vehicle blocked the lane ahead, leaning as it negotiated the curves.
The dense forest through which they traveled was one of the three major features of the Central Yellowstone Plateau, along with Hayden Valley just ahead and Yellowstone Lake beyond. The sprawling grasslands of Hayden Valley served as home to vast herds of elk and the wolves and grizzlies that fed on them. Yellowstone Lake, the largest natural body of water above seven thousand feet in North America, occupied the plateau’s southeast corner.