An Evening of Wolf Encounters

Last month I posted about some wolf tracks I’d found and thought pretty neat. I know wolves live in this area from tracks and scat, but I rarely see or hear them. To illustrate, here are a few photos I took yesterday of fresh-ish wolf sign spotted along a ski trail.

Wolf tracks and urine along a packed down ski trail

Bounding through the snow

Casual pace on one side of the trail, leading to the bounding tracks in the left hand image.

However, last week, in one evening, I had multiple wolf encounters. They legitimately left me reeling, emotionally. There’s something about wolf encounters that just get to me.

First off, for context: I live and work in a national park (obligatory disclaimer: these thoughts are my own, this is my private blog, I am not currently being paid to promote/express opinions/etc. on behalf of Parks Canada). This time of year, I’m doing a lot of paperwork. But I occasionally get unleashed from my basement office to go out and deliver programs, including some private bookings. Most of the private bookings I’ve been doing have been guided, off-trail snowshoe hikes and stargazing experiences. I did take a booking, months in advance, for a wolf howl program. This is one of the longest-running programs in the park; inspired by the famous wolf howls of Algonquin provincial park, the interpreter takes visitors out into the park in a car caravan and stop at various points to howl for wolves and see if they’d howl back. I had seen this program delivered five or six times, and each time I attended (late summer/fall), we had never heard anything. I think there’s like a 20% success rate of wolves responding – which is still a thrill. In any case, I specifically taught myself a version of this program for this group, and planned to pair it with a stargazing program at a beach picnic area at the far end of the road I was taking this group on. The group’s organizer knew that there was a low possibility of hearing wolves, especially if the pack had already had their pups (they don’t howl at certain times of year, so as to avoid advertising the location of their den). In any case, the group was excited for a nighttime adventure!

Being a relatively organized person, a few hours before the start of the program I reviewed and revisited my route to ensure I had the timings correct, as well as to dig the snow out of the firepit I’d planned on using and double-check the firewood situation. (I like to look like I know what I’m doing when I step confidently out of the vehicle during the program.) As I drove along the road about an hour before sunset, the trees part and I get a glimpse of the lake. And then I see movement.

Now these could have been coyotes, but reviewing the footage and seeing the size of these animals relative to the size of the ravens (crows migrate south and aren’t found this time of year in this region), plus the way they move… I was fairly confident these were wolves. And I was thrilled. It looks from the video that they have some sort of carcass – I presume a deer from the size, but honestly, even zooming in this much strained my cell phone’s capabilities. These wolves were like at least half a kilometre away from me by my estimation. In any case, seeing these individuals confirmed that I was taking my group to the right place later on; I’d asked colleagues who do environmental monitoring in the park and they’d confirmed they see a lot of wolf sign in this area, like I did when I took visitors out snowshoeing off trail.

So as I meet my group after supper, the sun has set and it’s evident the sky will be overcast for the duration of our meeting. Even so, we could see a glimpse of the bright pinpricks of Jupiter and Venus through the cloud cover, and the group was keen and the weather a relatively mild -15C. Our banter was on point. We drove for a few kilometres, stopped at a turnoff by a creek, and gathered in silence to howl. We had one fellow howl – very convincingly. No response. After another two minutes, three of the group howl. We wait, straining our ears. Nothing, probably. And then we howl as one big group… and about five of us, including me, think we hear something, very faintly. It was hard to tell, because when you’re really listening hard, all you can hear is the swish of snowpants and the crunch of snow as someone shuffles their feet impatiently. I was half convinced it was my imagination, except that several other people all said they heard it too, and pointed in the same direction.

No matter. We hop in the vehicles, drive another ten minutes down the road, and hop out in the parking lot of the picnic area and beach where we’ll do our stargazing. We hop out, and repeat our routine, starting with one person with a strong voice howling solo. And not even 20 seconds afterwards, we get a faint but very distinctive howl back. It’s from the direction of where I saw those wild canines on the kill earlier, and it is very clearly a wolf howl. Three-quarters of the group hear it and we are all trying to be muted in our excitement. Three more of us howl, and once again, we get a very clear response back. When we howl as a bigger group the third time… yes, we hear them again! I was really trying not to show how surprised I was but honestly, I was thrilled. The first time I delivered that program, and we got such a clear answer? I was as excited as my audience was.

At that point, I set up for the stargazing program. The sky was overcast with glimpses of stars, and I was worried we’d be relying entirely on my voice and storytelling ability. I did come across as a bit of a hero by being able to successfully light a fire with a magnesium fire striker in only three strikes, in front of a group of 30 people staring at me, so that was great! But as I set up the fire, a bunch of us noticed a faint glow on the horizon line, in an area where the clouds were parted. I took a quick photo on my phone, and sure enough, it showed up in green: the aurora borealis had made an appearance.

So that was lovely! Again, I had built up a good rapport with the group and we were still high on excitement from the wolves howling back at us, so I think they would have been receptive to my storytelling and star charts even in the absence of stars to gaze at, but the aurora certainly helped build excitement! Overall, a fantastic evening for those visitors, who left very pleased by the experience.

Once I got back into town, stowed my equipment, and walked home, I was fairly jubilant but tired. I was in that kind of floaty, punchy kind of mood, coming down off of a busy, exciting day. It was later at night – around my bedtime in fact – and I was almost at my front door when I stopped dead in my tracks. I thought I’d heard something. I’d been really attuned to the “soundscape” (sound landscape) around me all night, but my footprints in the snow had been loud. I took out my phone and started filming just in case I heard it again, and… this is what I heard:

You may have to turn up your volume, but I can tell you that this wolf howl was very distinct in person, and sounded noticeably closer than when I’d heard them howling earlier during the program. I almost never hear wolves in town and it was both eerie and thrilling. I didn’t feel like I was in danger, but I had a mad moment where I asked myself if the wolves had followed me, if I’d been calling them to me.

Then I went inside and went to bed.

I talked about this experience with a few people the next day. I sent the two above videos to my family, and I have to say, my sister out in Vancouver had a hilarious response. She sent me this:

And you know, it doesn’t quite capture my experience – I didn’t really feel like I was particularly in danger. But I have to laugh that that was the perception. But there’s something about that very cheerful, positive dog in the second panel that speaks to me.

In any case, don’t be afraid to explore natural spaces after dark! Be safe, be prepared, make sure others know where you are, and go as a group… but try turning off your lights and opening up your ears to the world around you. You never know what you might hear.

More Information

• I suppose if you want to book a private program with me or another member of the interpretation team, here’s more information about how you can do that!
• You should check out my favourite documentary about wolves (and bison, which is in-character for me): Cold Warriors: Wolves and Buffalo, following a wolf pack hunting in Wood Buffalo National Park.

About

An Encounter with Three Lynx

Last week I was going for my daily constitutional (I try to go for at least one walk a day, even if it’s miserable weather), and I had what I would refer to as a “significant wildlife sighting.” I was actually speaking on the phone with my sister at the time, and saw movement far off down the road. I hadn’t brought binoculars with me (my first mistake!!) but I used the zoom option on my phone to get a better look. I had initially assumed it was a coyote. Then I got a better look at the silhouette.

That is no coyote

I quickly realized that it was a lynx, told my sister I’d have to call her back, hung up without listening to her answer, and settled in to watch. This photo is extremely zoomed in and was taken with my cell phone. I really didn’t want to bother it so I didn’t walk more than 20 or so feet forward – it was several blocks down. I took a few photos every so often, as well as some video clips (though because of how much it’s zoomed in the video is distractingly shaky).

Soon, two more lynx emerged and my hands were shaking for a different reason – because I was so thrilled to see them.

I was particularly excited to see these lynx because of an absolutely epic encounter I’d had with one not too far way from this spot, that I hadn’t been able to capture on film. I’d been cross-country skiing on the trail through Beaver Glen campground, just up the road, and as I came up on the campground kiosk, a snowshoe hare ran in front of me and hit a “do not enter” sign attached to an open vehicle gate. It fell over. I was horrified. I felt I’d distracted this hare as it had been running and it had been inadvertently been stunned or killed as a result. But I had only a few seconds to take in what had happened when a lynx burst up from the direction the hare had come from. It lunged for the hare, placing one paw on it, and then stared me right in the eye for what felt like several seconds, and then it dragged the hare backwards into the woods. The whole encounter lasted about 30 seconds. I’d actually had ample time to take out my phone. I thought I’d gotten a video clip of it. Alas, my fingers had been too cold and I hadn’t actually pressed the “record” button like I thought. I regret it to this day.

So seeing three whole lynx, and being able to observe them for five minutes or more, even from a distance? Absolutely thrilling. They eventually jogged up onto the snowdrift on the side of the road, stared at me, and eventually retreated back the way they came. I called my sister back and I’d taken so long she thought I’d gotten et, in her words. I had to reassure her that lynx were quite small – I’d only be worried about getting eaten if I was a snowshoe hare.

A New Year’s Day Walk in the Boreal Forest of Saskatchewan

The landscape of Prince Albert National Park isn’t what many people expect when they picture Saskatchewan. The Trans-Canada highway runs through the flat prairies of the province – most people think of Saskatchewan as “that flat, boring place you drive through to get to more interesting places”. But if you’re willing to drive a bit further north, you can enter the boreal forest. In fact, the provincial flag of Saskatchewan is separated into two, equal colours for this very reason. Yellow for the grasslands to the south, and green for the boreal forests to the north. Both make up this territory, but trees aren’t what most people picture when they think of this place.

I’m lucky enough at this time in my life to be a resident of the town site of Waskesiu Lake, in Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan. This morning was new year’s day, and me and a new friend (a Quebecoise bird nerd now resident of Regina) went for a short hike in the snow, to start off 2023 on the right foot.

Here are some of the things that we saw!

We hiked Mud Creek Trail, which is about 10 minutes by car from the town site of Waskesiu. We parked just off the Narrows Road, on the south side of the lake, as the little road to the usual summer parking lot is closed during the winter as it’s difficult to plough – so it adds about 10 minutes each way to the walk, in these snow conditions. Early on, we saw a little trail. My first instinct was to think “otter slide” because I’ve seen them in the area before… but those are usually several hops, and then a short slide of a few metres, before the individual gets up again. In this case, it was a steady half-tunnel, with waddling footsteps. When I saw the pacing of the tracks, then looked closely and saw drag marks, my thinking now is that this was a porcupine.

Next, we saw fox tracks, walking along. Several times, we saw a gap in the tracks, and then a scuffle a foot or so away. Our thinking is that it was pouncing on a rodent underneath the snow.

Right near the trail head (we saw all of this before we even got on the trail itself!) I spotted a line of tracks. I was puzzling over them and was just saying I thought they were the tracks of a ruffed grouse (bird tracks, ruffed grouse known to be in the area) and my friend said “Gélinotte?” (French for “grouse”) and I was just saying like “yeah, I think it’s a gélinotte huppée” (ruffed grouse) and she’s like, no it’s for sure a Gélinotte huppée because it’s right there. And then she pointed behind me and sure enough, there was the bird who had just made the tracks. I was gratified my identification had been correct! I somehow didn’t take a photo of the actual trackway, but essentially I think of them as walking like a model on a catwalk, one foot in front of the other in a line. Even if the three toes are obscured that’s usually the vibe I get from the tracks.

Next, I spotted… what looked to be a bird that had planted itself on the ground and then taken off again. There was just a whole, surrounded by two wing imprints. I’m not sure if this was a (tiny?) bird of prey landing some rodent, or if it was a grouse that had been startled, landed, and took off again. My mitten for scale. It could be grouse sized… the only birds of prey that are around this time of year would be like a small owl species perhaps?

We also saw and heard some red breasted nuthatches. Can you spot the little feathered friend in this image?

We also saw several small scats from carnivores. If poop can be cute, is this poop cute? I believe they’re from animals in the weasel family but I’m happy to hear other suggestions!

We were out walking for perhaps an hour and a half at most and saw so much animal sign! One of the things I love the most about spending time outside in the snow in the wintertime is the increased awareness of other animals. I can go an entire spring, summer, and fall without seeing a snowshoe hare more than once, but in the wintertime, I can’t escape signs of their presence – their tracks and scat are everywhere, like afterimages.

Happy new year to all – I hope that you can spend time out in nature, whereever you are!