Tucked away in the far corner of remote notheastern Oregon lies the ruggedly beautiful Zumwalt Prairie—a seemingly peaceful land of waving grasses that has become a symbolic battleground in the war between ranchers and environmentalists over the use of our country's rapidly vanishing natural habitat.Marcy Houle's job was to cover the 200 square miles of the Zumwalt in search of three species of hawks. What she discovered was the densest concentration of these hawks anywhere in the lower forty-eight states. Why? Houle's findings, eloquently reported, show that ranchers and grazing and wildlife not only can coexist, but in some instances must coexist if we are to save the last of the native prairies for us all.
4.5 stars. This was a really well written work of non fiction not only about scientific research but about themes of environmentalism as a whole. The structure of the story is closer to that of memoir or travel journalism than other science books I’ve read which made it a really compelling read, and the author did an excellent job particularly with organizing that narrative aspect of this book.
The book is older than me and I think that her conclusions regarding the divisive issue of land management are still deeply relevant on which I had a range (ha) of thoughts:
It reminds me of a summer I spent working as a precision agronomist and found myself surprisingly alienated from my coworkers and the farmers we partnered with due to my support for sustainable agriculture - most of the very products we were testing were intended to limit pesticide and fertilizer runoff and consequent application rates, not only saving the farmers money while improving crop yields but also preserving water quality. It seemed like a win-win, but these are two groups (ivory tower environmentalists and conservative rural Americans) who have been pointedly polarized and taught that their values fundamentally conflict.
In reality, we are all on the same side here - the real evil is in mass corporatization, and, as Marcy Houle puts it, “a generation severed from the natural landscape”, which I would extend to say a generation severed from the labor of land use and stewardship. The individual farmer (or rancher, in this case) has a connection to the land and the means of productivity of that land. They’re more likely to manage it conscientiously and with future generations in mind than a large corporation. Recalling themes from Steinbecks The Grapes of Wrath, mass corporatization of agricultural land led to a shift in general attitude toward the land - as Steinbeck points out, the man who drives the tractor doesn’t own the land, doesn’t interact with it, doesn’t consume what’s grown there, isn’t involved in the profits or the long term stewardship of the land. He’s there for his hourly rate. The company who owns the land never even sees it - it’s no longer an invaluable resource, an ecosystem, a home, but an asset valued only in terms of instantaneous profitability. This shift harms the small farmers and the environment alike.
In summary I think that Marcy Houle makes the excellent point that a lot of ecological preservation could be accomplished if these typically conflicting groups could realize that their interests generally coincide - the environmental threat presented by agriculture is not inherent to agriculture, but to mismanagement resulting from an unhealthy capitalist detachment from land use practices and products, and the land itself. Environmentally friendly agriculture, including the range management techniques described in Marcy Houles book, is also generally friendly to the small farmer who intends preserve continued use of the land into the future.
I think this paints an excellent example of how polarization amongst the general public prevents us from recognizing that the real enemy is megacorporations and the ultra wealthy.
TLDR: capitalism is the root of all evil AGAIN 🫶 And hawks are sick as hell 🤘
In addition to a vivid and engaging account of Houle's research and exploration of Oregon's Zumwalt Prairie and the charming hawks who nest and hunt there, The Prairie Keepers serves as an elegant illustration that, when considering complex systems and situations, thinking in terms of dichotomies—this is right and that is wrong; that is right and this is wrong—doesn't accomplish much beyond inflating our own self-importance and sense of self-righteousness.
Great book about keeping an open mind and looking at the data without bending it. Loved the descriptions of the area and picked this book up because I want to finally visit the Zumwalt later this year. Have been to the Wallowa Mountains but didn't make it up to the prairie. At first I didn't like the descriptions of some of the people, they were jerks to her, but it added a realness to the story that helped.
This is the book that would change my career completely. After reading it, I still went on to become a journalist, but I was forever inspired to look at landscapes and wildlife and our human relationships to place and critter. This eventually led me to conservation.
My ecologist brain and passion for the prairie is what led me to rate this book so highly. I just loved her recounting her time in rural Oregon as a newly minted biologist during the late 80s, getting to know the people and the land, and herself in the process.
This is my favorite kind of book, a little bit of science & nature, a little bit of a memoir, a little bit about human nature, and a little bit of local history. Lovely story about how we can make nature better by working together with it instead of against it.
Marcy’s adventures as a scientist placed to figure out and work alone on a project studying the Zumwalt hawks makes an engaging read by itself, but the science and findings made this an excellent read.
In “The Prairie Keepers,” wildlife biologist Marcy Houle tells the non-fiction story of her summer researching wildlife and habitat on the Zumwalt Prairie in eastern Oregon. Houle balances her account of studying raptors and the land with humorous anecdotes about her struggles, such as dealing with ranchers suspicious of her methods, and face-offs with belligerent cattle. But the real thorn in her boot turns out to be a co-worker, a patronizing Fish and Game biologist who takes every opportunity to sneer at her. Written in 1979, and updated in 2002, readers with any interest in the environment or the outdoors should enjoy this book. The characters are varied and colorful. The book shows that a scientist with an open mind can help move people beyond their presuppositions. And general readers involved in various issues in their own areas may find Houle’s approach valuable. Because Houle listened to the ranchers as well as fellow biologists and developed connections in the local community, she was able to elicit cooperation from both sides. In a period when many disagreements turn contentious or nasty, her experiences should be a reminder that we may be more successful if we don’t demonize people with different backgrounds and views.
I’m an Oregonian, but I never knew this place existed. That’s a well worn example of the divide between urban and rural. This is a nonfiction account of a young grad student who is sent out to this vast grassland to research the various hawks who live there. She’s on her own, and regularly ridiculed by the men who work for the rivalrous government agencies, along with the ranchers. It’s a terrific story and satisfying because its message is that every single part of the ecosystem is reliant on the other to thrive. While that may seem obvious, when reading the book, it’s clear that we don’t operate that way, whether we are trying to understand a prairie or a school district. Humans keep hammering away at each other with our points of view, and rarely slow down to see what the evidence clearly shows: disparate isn’t harmonious. It’s published by the Oregon State University Press. The writer has an epilogue, some 25 years later. I loved this. I learned a lot. When I’m in the wilderness, I’m so caught up in thinking grand thoughts that I rarely notice anything besides the obvious. I will look for hawks, and understand if it’s August, I won’t see any.
I've spread out the reading of this book because I enjoyed it so much. It is fascinating to follow the author's bird banding and gopher tabulating projects and see a stretch of gorgeous countryside brought up close in front of one's eyes. At one point the Guy from the Recreation department says the baby eagle is all black and white squares, "I could play checkers on his back." It starts in the spring with the hawks nesting and the plants beginning to green the earth and ends in the late fall with the ground squirrels in hibernation and the hawks and eagles off on their trips south. In the intervening time Marcy meets various members of the community (animal and human)and builds relationships with many. There is no mystery about which of the young men she finally chooses since her married name is right there on the cover but the process that brings her self knowledge is as interesting as the one which brings her understanding of the working of the eco systems that make up the Zumwalt. Lovely, lovely.
This book is already 20 years old and I looked on the map and it looks like the Hell's Canyon National Recreation Area did come into existence. And I'm a bit sad after reading Marcy Houle's account and research of the hawks of this area. Her findings , contrary to all the experts, that the hawks, wildlife, plant diversity were all better off because of the responsible ranching dynamic was wow. Interesting to hear all the voices of the Forestry service, Soil Conservation Service, BLM, Fish & Wildlife, and academia and how they do and don't get along or how each group has their own agenda instead of working together. Enjoyed very much her account of the study including her interactions with the hawks, cows, and the land. Loved the writing of the everyday people Marcy came in contact with including her landlord and Cressie. And I just read the dedication page and it says "to my dear husband, John" - yay! Happy that worked out also.
Lovely book about the Zumwalt Prairie and the study that discovered the heavy density of buteo hawks there. I would have preferred much more about the grasslands and the prairie and a lot less of the personal life stuff, especially the quirks of dealing with her landlady and the dating. Those weren't necessarily folded well into the overall tale and kind of reeked of "must include girl personal life," but were insubstantial and a distraction from the story of the study. To do those elements justice would have required more than the token given to personal life in the writing. As it is now, those sections break up the flow of the story.
After revisiting the Zumwalt Prairie and Buckhorn Lookout a few years ago, I decided to revisit Houle's wonderful book, The Prairie Keepers. A field biologist, she had spent a season studying hawks, wildlife, soils and grasslands. Her work proposed that the pioneer ranchers and the conservation scientists could finally agree that ranchers played a large part in preserving the ancient grasslands of northeastern Oregon. Since then, The Nature Conservancy has purchased 10,000 acres of the Zumwalt Prairie, still working cooperatively with area ranchers.
This is a non-fiction account of Houle's raptor research project in the Zumwalt Prairie. She has a number of formidable obstacles to overcome in order to complete her task. She is young, she must work with several agencies, all at odds with each other, some of the men are sexist and dislike her because they think they think they should have gotten the job and the ranchers who own the land and distrust her and the government. Houle is a good writer and tells a compelling and interesting tale. Highly recommended.
Really opened my eyes in terms of realizing that ranchers & wildlife can co-exist beautifully if managed properly. 200 acres called the Zumwalt prairie is entirely managed by cattle ranchers and it is home to one of the highest concentrations of native Buteo hawks in north america. The story covers the authors adventures of hiking, driving and climbing around the prairie studying the ecosystem and cataloging the hawks.
I liked this mainly because as a bird biologist and someone familiar with Wallowa county I could relate to the author quite well. I thought she drew some good conclusions about land management, preservation, culture, and ecology. I'm not sure I find the stereotypes and animosity among agencies and locals totally believable- in fact it was a bit dramatic-, but maybe things were worse when she wrote this than I believe they are today.
We have just moved to the Eastern Oregon landscape, within 20 miles of where this book has taken place. I have been up at Zumwalt countless times. I just cannot stay away. It seems like any different day up there changes the landscape to something new. I love the solitude, the wind carrying the sounds of the birds and grassland. So this book just reinforced my love for this place as well as teaching me more about it.
This was our June book group choice. I was disappointed in the book but loved the subject: banding hawks on the Zumwalt Prairie in the NE corner of Oregon. Our book group just came back from a 5 day trip there which was wonderful. We did lots of exploration of the prairie, 200 sq miles of perhaps the best preserved bunch grass prairie in the US.
Memoir about a young wild life biologist's summer researching the Zumwalt Prairie. Her specialty is hawks, and she wants to find out the impact of cattle grazing on the land. Results aren't exactly as expected. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and anyone with even a passing interest in birds will find it fascinating.
Wonderful personal account of Marcy's study of the Zumwalt prairie in eastern Oregon. Full of rich biology as well as rich personalities as the author lived in and studied hawks/prairie for seven months.
This was a fun read, especially since the Zumwalt is such an amazing place. Interesting portraits of the ranchers and the agency folks. This book could use a map.