American Wolf: A True Story of Survival and Obsession in the West

by Nate Blakeslee

In Of Wolves and Men, Barry Lopez recounts the story of an ethnographer posing a riddle to an elder among the Nunamiut, a tribe in northern Alaska. At the end of his life, the researcher asked, who knows more about life in Alaska—how to escape a blizzard, how to find caribou, how to survive on such a harsh landscape—a wolf or a man? “The same,” the elder replied. “They know the same.”

“ In Of Wolves and Men, Barry Lopez recounts the story of an ethnographer posing a riddle to an elder among the Nunamiut, a tribe in northern Alaska. At the end of his life, the researcher asked, who knows more about life in Alaska—how to escape a blizzard, how to find caribou, how to survive on such a harsh landscape—a wolf or a man? “The same,” the elder replied. “They know the same.””

More than anything, what wolf advocates fought against was the long-held notion that wolves were nothing more than killing machines. They were so much more, as the wolves of Yellowstone had demonstrated time and again to anyone willing to pay attention. But it was also true that they were among the most effective predators the earth had ever seen.

“More than anything, what wolf advocates fought against was the long-held notion that wolves were nothing more than killing machines. They were so much more, as the wolves of Yellowstone had demonstrated time and again to anyone willing to pay attention. But it was also true that they were among the most effective predators the earth had ever seen.”

O-Six, as Laurie frequently pointed out to her readers, was rarely “cuddly.”

why she and so many other watchers had come to admire her. It was her stunning blend of confidence and competence that inspired them, her indomitable will, her ability to bend a harsh landscape to her own ends, to do what needed to be done to provide

“[Laurie] and so many other watchers had come to admire [06 because of] her stunning blend of confidence and competence that inspired them, her indomitable will, her ability to bend a harsh landscape to her own ends, to do what needed to be done to provide

As first hunts go, it wasn’t much of an education for the pups. From O-Six’s perspective, however, it was a promise of things to come: it had been a long while since she’d had a line of wolves running behind her on a hunt.

Rick’s dish, which he made with a modest amount of ground bison meat and Ragú sauce, was considerably simpler than Linda McCartney’s recipe for aubergine caponata, which appeared on the opposite page. But then again, it had to be: he ate it almost every night.

The more Rick learned about Yellowstone’s wolves, the more responsibility he felt to tell their story. He had come to think of his writing project as not just a single book but a series of books, covering everything from the rise of the Druids to the arrival of O-Six.

“The more Rick learned about Yellowstone’s wolves, the more responsibility he felt to tell their story. He had come to think of his writing project as not just a single book but a series of books, covering everything from the rise of the Druids to the arrival of O-Six.”

When Doug Smith and his team began a research project, they were always trying to answer a specific question—the relationship between wolves and ravens, for example—and this gave their note-taking some direction.

Back in Denali, where he’d spent all his free time taking pictures of wolves and other wildlife, he had grown so obsessed with getting the perfect shot that he found himself encroaching on animals, entering their space in ways that bordered on harassment.

wolves must be returned to the endangered species list throughout the Northern Rockies, effective immediately.

Declaring wolves recovered in Idaho and Montana but still endangered in Wyoming did not pass legal muster, Molloy decided. Nothing in the language of the Endangered Species Act or in its legislative history allowed for such a maneuver, despite Fish and Wildlife’s creative effort to reinterpret the code. “Even if the Service’s solution is pragmatic, or even practical,” the judge wrote, “it is at its heart a political solution that does not comply with the ESA.” Doug Honnold had won.

“Declaring wolves recovered in Idaho and Montana but still endangered in Wyoming did not pass legal muster, Molloy decided. Nothing in the language of the Endangered Species Act or in its legislative history allowed for such a maneuver, despite Fish and Wildlife’s creative effort to reinterpret the code. “Even if the Service’s solution is pragmatic, or even practical,” the judge wrote, “it is at its heart a political solution that does not comply with the ESA.” Doug Honnold had won.”

The New York Times lauded the ruling in an editorial. “State plans meant to satisfy hunters rather than protect the wolves cannot do that,” the editors wrote. “The gray wolf may need federal protection for years to come.”

Turnbull had a friend who was convinced it was part of a plot to end hunting altogether, not just for wolves but for all big game. It was the first step, he believed, in the federal government’s broader scheme to disarm the American public: if hunting were outlawed, then there was no longer any rationale for people to have guns.

“Turnbull had a friend who was convinced it was part of a plot to end hunting altogether, not just for wolves but for all big game. It was the first step, he believed, in the federal government’s broader scheme to disarm the American public: if hunting were outlawed, then there was no longer any rationale for people to have guns.”

It was time, in other words, for O-Six to go back to the Lamar Valley, the place her mother had been born, the place the Druids had once ruled. The problem was that despite the Druids’ demise, the valley wasn’t completely free of wolves. A small pack known as the Silvers—a mated pair and two adult daughters—had moved in the previous winter, taking advantage of the Druids’ decline.

“It was time, in other words, for O-Six to go back to the Lamar Valley, the place her mother had been born, the place the Druids had once ruled. The problem was that despite the Druids’ demise, the valley wasn’t completely free of wolves. A small pack known as the Silvers—a mated pair and two adult daughters—had moved in the previous winter, taking advantage of the Druids’ decline.”

147’s kindness toward the old Silver alpha had made him a favorite.

Still, his death was a good omen for the Lamars. Without an alpha male, the Silvers’ claim on the valley would be tenuous. With no collared wolves remaining among the Silvers, the watchers had no way to track the pack. Rick guessed they would likely scatter. It showed how fragile pack life was, even in a wolf paradise like Yellowstone. A pack was thriving one moment, and then it was simply gone the next.

“Still, his death was a good omen for the Lamars. Without an alpha male, the Silvers’ claim on the valley would be tenuous. With no collared wolves remaining among the Silvers, the watchers had no way to track the pack. Rick guessed they would likely scatter. It showed how fragile pack life was, even in a wolf paradise like Yellowstone. A pack was thriving one moment, and then it was simply gone the next.”

The pups were now feeding at kills, though they sought food from the adults at the rendezvous site as well. Regurgitation is less a choice than a reflex, and to keep their own stomachs full, O-Six and the two males were obliged to pin the pups when they came running, tails wagging, to solicit a meal. The adults held them down for a few seconds, their enormous jaws clamped lightly on the pups’ throats, until the youngsters got the message and stopped trying to lick at their mouths. After a few weeks of pinning, a simple curled lip was usually enough to keep the hungry pups at bay.

“The pups were now feeding at kills, though they sought food from the adults at the rendezvous site as well. Regurgitation is less a choice than a reflex, and to keep their own stomachs full, O-Six and the two males were obliged to pin the pups when they came running, tails wagging, to solicit a meal. The adults held them down for a few seconds, their enormous jaws clamped lightly on the pups’ throats, until the youngsters got the message and stopped trying to lick at their mouths. After a few weeks of pinning, a simple curled lip was usually enough to keep the hungry pups at bay.”

What that was became clear on November 20, when a massive snowstorm hit the Northern Range. Even for Yellowstone, the snowfall was staggering.

Trees at higher elevations in the park had been known to simply explode, succumbing to the rapid expansion of their frozen sap.

On December 6, O-Six’s mother was found dead on the western edge of Little America, not far from Junction Butte. She’d been killed by other wolves, most likely the neighboring Blacktail Pack, which made occasional forays down into the outskirts of Agate territory. Her tenure as an alpha had been among the longest since reintroduction, and she had left a considerable legacy in Yellowstone’s Northern Range, most notably in female leadership: at least five of her daughters had become alphas in other packs.

“On December 6, O-Six’s mother was found dead on the western edge of Little America, not far from Junction Butte. She’d been killed by other wolves, most likely the neighboring Blacktail Pack, which made occasional forays down into the outskirts of Agate territory. Her tenure as an alpha had been among the longest since reintroduction, and she had left a considerable legacy in Yellowstone’s Northern Range, most notably in female leadership: at least five of her daughters had become alphas in other packs.”

The old male recovered from his wounds, but the Agates, bereft of their longtime matriarch, retreated to their core territory. It was O-Six’s first successful defense of the valley.

He’d agreed not to dart O-Six out of deference to the wolf-watching community, who felt she was too special—too wild—to wear the mark of any human endeavor. Bob Landis was particularly insistent, though for more practical reasons. Some of his best footage from the previous year had featured O-Six; in his mind any film he might make of her story would be ruined if she suddenly appeared in a research collar halfway through.

“[Doug Smith had] agreed not to dart O-Six out of deference to the wolf-watching community, who felt she was too special—too wild—to wear the mark of any human endeavor. Bob Landis was particularly insistent, though for more practical reasons. Some of his best footage from the previous year had featured O-Six; in his mind any film he might make of her story would be ruined if she suddenly appeared in a research collar halfway through.”

Wolves have glands between their toes that leave their unique scents behind as they walk, but heavy snow could make it difficult to scent-trail.

The temperature meanwhile had plummeted to forty below. It was so cold that steam from the valley’s warm springs was freezing in the air, forming tiny crystals of ice that hung on the breeze and caught the morning sun. The phenomenon, called fairy dust by park veterans, was usually cause for delight. But now the brutal cold felt like a bad omen for O-Six’s lost pup.

“The temperature meanwhile had plummeted to forty below. It was so cold that steam from the valley’s warm springs was freezing in the air, forming tiny crystals of ice that hung on the breeze and caught the morning sun. The phenomenon, called fairy dust by park veterans, was usually cause for delight. But now the brutal cold felt like a bad omen for O-Six’s lost pup.”

The next morning the Lamars were back in the valley, and the watchers counted them anxiously. There were seven. After three days on his own, Shy Male had found the pack at last. Or more likely, Rick thought, the pack had found him.

“The next morning the Lamars were back in the valley, and the watchers counted them anxiously. There were seven. After three days on his own, Shy Male had found the pack at last. Or more likely, Rick thought, the pack had found him.”

The rodents had marginal nutritional value for animals as large as wolves, but mousing wasn’t about being hungry—it was about having fun.

When one of the pups managed to catch one at last, he paraded around with the hapless mouse dangling from his mouth, daring his littermates to try to take it, or tossed it high into the air and pounced on it again.

Laurie noticed something black on the snow between 776’s paws: she’d caught a raven. She had no interest in eating it—her belly was already full of elk—yet it was clearly a cherished prize.

The pack’s adults, meanwhile, were more interested in one another. It was mating season again, and the love triangle that connected the three of them was much in evidence. O-Six did little to discourage 754’s affections, but 755 policed their interactions diligently, and when O-Six was ready, the alpha male didn’t miss his opportunity.

“The pack’s adults, meanwhile, were more interested in one another. It was mating season again, and the love triangle that connected the three of them was much in evidence. O-Six did little to discourage 754’ s affections, but 755 policed their interactions diligently, and when O-Six was ready, the alpha male didn’t miss his opportunity.”

Some of Yellowstone’s bison carry brucellosis, a disease that under rare circumstances can be transmitted from wildlife to domestic cattle. Thanks to a long-standing agreement with ranchers north of the park, Montana authorities slaughtered most of the bison that left the park in the winter to prevent any possibility of contagion;

One morning 776 spotted a bison on its haunches near Soda Butte Creek, surrounded by ravens. She approached with caution—bison were dangerous, even when they were half-starved—but the animal didn’t move. It was dead, frozen in place as it dozed upright in the deep snow. The ravens had done their best, but there was little they could eat until the carcass was properly opened. 776 made a few experimental tugs at the bison’s hide, but the carcass was so stiff that she couldn’t get good purchase. In the end, she decided it wasn’t worth the effort; there was no shortage of food, after all. She left the bison sitting there, still upright, its massive head staring straight ahead at nothing, a strange sentinel in the frozen silence.

“One morning 776 spotted a bison on its haunches near Soda Butte Creek, surrounded by ravens. She approached with caution—bison were dangerous, even when they were half-starved—but the animal didn’t move. It was dead, frozen in place as it dozed upright in the deep snow. The ravens had done their best, but there was little they could eat until the carcass was properly opened. 776 made a few experimental tugs at the bison’s hide, but the carcass was so stiff that she couldn’t get good purchase. In the end, she decided it wasn’t worth the effort; there was no shortage of food, after all. She left the bison sitting there, still upright, its massive head staring straight ahead at nothing, a strange sentinel in the frozen silence.”

And why was the willow coming back? Smith was still trying to figure that out, but he knew the answer almost certainly had something to do with wolves. As their numbers grew after reintroduction, elk numbers had of course declined, but—just as important—their behavior had changed as well. No longer free to congregate at their leisure along stream banks, elk were spending less time browsing on willow, which left plenty for the beavers.

“And why was the willow coming back? Smith was still trying to figure that out, but he knew the answer almost certainly had something to do with wolves. As their numbers grew after reintroduction, elk numbers had of course declined, but—just as important—their behavior had changed as well. No longer free to congregate at their leisure along stream banks, elk were spending less time browsing on willow, which left plenty for the beavers.”

Biologists called this type of chain reaction a trophic cascade, and by the spring of 2011—ironically, just as the political situation was turning sour for wolves—it was the hottest research subject in the park, not only for Smith’s own colleagues at the Wolf Project but also for visiting biologists from around the country.

Greater Yellowstone, the largest intact temperate ecosystem left in the world, was returning to its former glory.

Yellowstone had long hosted one of the densest coyote populations in North America, but that quickly changed with the reintroduction of wolves. After decades as Yellowstone’s top canines, the park’s coyotes seemed to have lost their collective memory of how to coexist with their much larger relatives. They routinely approached wolves feeding on carcasses, as was their habit when they spotted an easy meal. Time and again wolf-watchers observed coyotes realizing their fatal mistake far too late, as the faster and more powerful wolves easily ran them down and killed them.

“Yellowstone had long hosted one of the densest coyote populations in North America, but that quickly changed with the reintroduction of wolves. After decades as Yellowstone’s top canines, the park’s coyotes seemed to have lost their collective memory of how to coexist with their much larger relatives. They routinely approached wolves feeding on carcasses, as was their habit when they spotted an easy meal. Time and again wolf-watchers observed coyotes realizing their fatal mistake far too late, as the faster and more powerful wolves easily ran them down and killed them.”

Wolves colonizing new areas of the park routinely dug up and destroyed coyote dens, killing any pups they found, to eliminate competition for prey and to make their own dens safer. In short order, Yellowstone’s newly dominant canines reduced the Northern Range’s coyote population by half.

What happened next was revelatory. The park’s rodent population, long depressed by years of unchecked predation by ever-present coyotes, rebounded immediately. This meant a sudden increase in the food supply for raptors like owls and hawks. Healthier birds began having larger broods, and Yellowstone’s bird-watching community began seeing an avian renaissance, something they never realized they were missing.

“What happened next was revelatory. The park’s rodent population, long depressed by years of unchecked predation by ever-present coyotes, rebounded immediately. This meant a sudden increase in the food supply for raptors like owls and hawks. Healthier birds began having larger broods, and Yellowstone’s bird-watching community began seeing an avian renaissance, something they never realized they were missing.”

Weasels and foxes also benefited from the rebounding rodent population, and their numbers began to grow, too.

Even pronghorn numbers were up. Though no predator in North America can run down a healthy adult pronghorn, coyotes routinely fed on helpless newborn calves, which had long depressed the park’s herds. Wolves, however, seldom take pronghorn calves, so their displacing of coyotes meant more antelope survived to adulthood.

“Even pronghorn numbers were up. Though no predator in North America can run down a healthy adult pronghorn, coyotes routinely fed on helpless newborn calves, which had long depressed the park’s herds. Wolves, however, seldom take pronghorn calves, so their displacing of coyotes meant more antelope survived to adulthood.”

The science was on Smith’s side, but it didn’t seem to matter to ranchers and hunters, or to state legislators. The debate wasn’t about science anymore, if indeed it ever had been.

“The science was on Smith’s side, but it didn’t seem to matter to ranchers and hunters, or to state legislators. The debate wasn’t about science anymore, if indeed it ever had been.”

Wyoming’s recalcitrance seemed to have paid off in the end; despite lengthy negotiations over the preceding year, state officials had made scarcely any concessions.

The fight over wolves was moving from the courts to the political arena, and it was a war the wolves were losing.

A broken leg was the most common injury for wolves and, next to a wounded jaw, the most worrisome.

So formidable on four legs, a wolf with only three is a humble creature.

In one respect, the timing of the injury was fortunate: had the break occurred in winter, when the pack was fully mobile and wandering the length and breadth of its territory, 754 would have been hard-pressed to keep up.

The Pelican had few elk in winter, but the original Mollies taught themselves to prey on bison, and their descendants remained the only pack in the park that did so regularly. They seldom got to enjoy their meals as they would have wished, however. The Mollies lost most of their carcasses after an hour or two to the Pelican Valley’s ubiquitous grizzlies, which could smell a fresh kill from miles away.

“The Pelican had few elk in winter, but the original Mollies taught themselves to prey on bison, and their descendants remained the only pack in the park that did so regularly. They seldom got to enjoy their meals as they would have wished, however. The Mollies lost most of their carcasses after an hour or two to the Pelican Valley’s ubiquitous grizzlies, which could smell a fresh kill from miles away.”

In the Pelican’s upper reaches, Stahler found what seemed to be the rest of the pack. She counted nine adults sleeping in the snow, along with seven pups. The Mollie alpha male, 495, was not among them.

After another pass, Stahler found out why: her receiver picked up 495’s collar transmitting in mortality mode. Discoveries like this were why project biologists flew the park so often. Outside the Lamar Valley, it was impossible to know what was going on with most of the packs without a plane, and this was a major development—though just how big Stahler didn’t yet realize.

“After another pass, Stahler found out why: her receiver picked up 495’ s collar transmitting in mortality mode. Discoveries like this were why project biologists flew the park so often. Outside the Lamar Valley, it was impossible to know what was going on with most of the packs without a plane, and this was a major development—though just how big Stahler didn’t yet realize.”

A few days later a crew hiked in to investigate and found 495’s carcass in the snow. He had suffered traumatic injuries, most likely from a bison kick. Even past his prime at nine years of age, 495 was an amazing specimen. At the time of his collaring in 2005, he weighed 143 pounds, making him one of the largest Yellowstone wolves on record. With his dark coat and massive head, he resembled a juvenile black bear lumbering across the snow. Many of his male offspring had grown up to be almost as formidable as their father.

“A few days later a crew hiked in to investigate and found 495’ s carcass in the snow. He had suffered traumatic injuries, most likely from a bison kick. Even past his prime at nine years of age, 495 was an amazing specimen. At the time of his collaring in 2005, he weighed 143 pounds, making him one of the largest Yellowstone wolves on record. With his dark coat and massive head, he resembled a juvenile black bear lumbering across the snow. Many of his male offspring had grown up to be almost as formidable as their father.”

On August 31, 2012, just as hunters in Montana and Idaho were gearing up for the start of the second season since wolf-hunting was legalized by Senator Tester’s budget rider, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service officially removed wolves in Wyoming from the endangered species list. After a contentious peer-review process, the five experts Fish and Wildlife had selected to review Wyoming’s plan returned a split decision—three agreeing with the agency that the plan passed muster, and two finding that it didn’t offer sufficient protection.

“On August 31, 2012, just as hunters in Montana and Idaho were gearing up for the start of the second season since wolf-hunting was legalized by Senator Tester’s budget rider, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service officially removed wolves in Wyoming from the endangered species list. After a contentious peer-review process, the five experts Fish and Wildlife had selected to review Wyoming’s plan returned a split decision—three agreeing with the agency that the plan passed muster, and two finding that it didn’t offer sufficient protection.”