The Bush administration is proposing to sell 200 thousand
acres of national forest land. The proposal has drawn fire from environmentalists who are concerned about the long-range effects of the plan. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Steve Carmody reports:
Transcript
The Bush administration is proposing to sell 200 thousand acres of
national forest land. The proposal has drawn fire from environmentalists
who are concerned about the long-range effects of the plan. The Great
Lakes Radio Consortium’s Steve Carmody reports:
The National Forest Service is proposing to sell hundreds of small
parcels of forestland over the next five years. The parcels average 40
acres in size, and the forest service says the sales would generate roughly
800 million dollars, which would be used for rural schools and roads.
Sean Cosgrove is with the Sierra Club in Washington D.C. He says
these parcels may be small, but the effects on larger eco-systems could
be significant.
“It’s kinda like taking a handful of buckshot and throwing it at a large
piece of butcher block paper. You may not cover that whole entire area,
but you can put holes all the way thru it, where it’s going to have an
impact.”
In this region, Michigan would be the most effected state, with nearly six
thousand acres in the Hiawatha and Ottawa National Forests on the
block.
In Minnesota, nearly three thousand acres in the Superior National Forest
are also targeted under the plan.
Researchers collect as much information as they can to take advantage of the rare opportunity of being close to a tranquilized moose. (Photo by Stephanie Hemphill)
Many wildlife lovers consider moose to have a special mystique. Adult moose are bigger than horses, and they seem fearless. But biologists don’t know much about many moose populations. A team of researchers is just beginning to learn about one herd of 4,000 moose in the Northwoods. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie Hemphill reports:
Transcript
Many wildlife lovers consider moose to have a special mystique. Adult moose are bigger than
horses, and they seem fearless. But biologists don’t know much about many moose populations.
A team of researchers is just beginning to learn about one herd of 4,000 moose in the
northwoods. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie Hemphill reports:
Half a dozen big four-wheel-drive pickups are parked at a boat landing on MacDougal Lake. It’s
about 30 miles west of the Lake Superior shore, in the heart of the Superior National Forest in
Northeastern Minnesota. The forest is twice the size of Delaware.
It’s 25 degrees. At the edge of the frozen lake, men in conservation officer uniforms are standing
around a small fire. They’re waiting to hear from the helicopter. The crew on the helicopter is
shooting moose with a tranquilizer gun. They need to get up close to the animals to learn more
about them.
Scientists think more moose could be living in this area. Mike Shrage is a biologist with the
Fond du Lac band of Chippewa. He says they’d like to know why there aren’t more moose here.
There are several possible reasons.
“Wolves, bears, lack of habitat, hunting and other kinds of human-related mortality, automobile
accidents.”
Shrage is listening to a radio cradled in a canvas holster on his shoulder. He cocks his head to
catch every word.
“There’s three of them there.”
The helicopter crew has spotted some moose.
“Yeah, I think they’re bulls.”
“These are three bulls. It’s not uncommon this time of year, you’ll get small groups of them
hanging together for awhile. Little bachelor groups.”
Shrage says the helicopter crew will try to chase one of the moose into an open area, like a frozen
lake, where they can get an easy shot.
“And if it lays down right in the lake, then they can sit down on the ice next to it. It makes
everything a lot easier.”
“Yeah, he’s gonna hopefully drop in the spot where they can get right to him.”
“I think they must already have a dart in him and they’re just waiting for it to take effect.”
The helicopter drops off a crew member to stay with the moose, and comes back to the boat
landing to pick up a radio collar.
(sound of helicopter)
Counting moose is a challenge. A recent survey in this area showed a drop from 5,000 to 4,000
animals in one year. But researchers admit there could be a 25% margin of error in those figures.
That’s because it’s hard to find the moose in heavily wooded areas. The collaring project will
make counts more accurate.
Three biologists are gathered around the latest moose to be fitted with a collar. He’s a mature
bull. He’s lying on his side in the middle of a huge frozen swamp.
He’s blindfolded to make the process less stressful. He seems to snore, while the biologists poke
and prod.
They take blood samples to check on hormones and blood chemistry, and to look for disease.
They also pull a tooth to send to a lab. They can get an exact age by measuring the rings on the
tooth.
Glenn Delgiudice takes notes on the animal’s fat reserves. That’s a good indication of its overall
health.
Delgiudice even uses an ultrasound machine to measure the fat in the moose’s rear end.
“Rump fat is one of the main fat depots of these animals, and also one of the first to go. They
mobilize their fat depots generally in a sequence. So we measure the depth of the fat with
ultrasound.”
Another key indicator of the animal’s health is the condition of its hair. This moose has most of
its hair. They aren’t all so lucky. Some of them have scratched a lot their hair off.
<"Rick yesterday saw a calf of one of our cows that was what'd you say Rick, only 25% hair. So
that one's been rubbing and scratching for a long time. And, of course, when they're doing that
rubbing and scratching and biting, they're not foraging, and it can drain them over time."
The collar has to fit just right. If it’s too loose, a moose can get a foot caught in it. If it’s too
tight, it can bind, especially in the fall mating season when the bulls’ necks get thicker.
“Yep, that looks good.”
(clicking)
Finally the moose is given an antidote to the tranquilizer, pain-killer, and sedative that have kept
him immobile for about half an hour.
“You know, you’ll see his ears twitch, and he’ll start to lift his head,” Delgiudice says. “The
moose are better at getting up than deer typically. They just get up, loosen up a little bit, and
then lope away.”
The moose struggles up, stands for a minute, and then saunters off toward the trees.
That’s moose number five for the day. The team is planning to track 60 moose for five years.
It’ll tell them what kills these moose and what’s keeping the population from growing.
For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Stephanie Hemphill, in the Superior National Forest.
Although a pretty plant, purple loosestrife crowds out native plants necessary for wildlife habitat. (Photo by Roger F. Thoma)
We’ve all heard about exotic species invading the Great Lakes states. Zebra mussels, gypsy moths, and Asian carp all pose serious threats to the ecosystems they invade, but insects and fish aren’t the only unwelcome visitors. Invasive plants are also creeping in. One U.S. Forest Service biologist is hoping to recruit a small army of volunteers to help him keep the invasive weeds under control. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie Hemphill reports:
Transcript
We’ve all heard about exotic species invading the Great Lakes states. Zebra mussels, gypsy
moths, and Asian carp all pose serious threats to the ecosystems they invade. But insects and
fish aren’t the only unwelcome visitors. Plants that don’t belong in Great Lakes forests are
creeping in. One U.S. Forest Service biologist is hoping to recruit a small army of volunteers to
help him keep the invasive weeds under control. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie
Hemphill reports:
Jack Greenlee wades through chest-high grasses, rushes, wild raspberries and roses. He reaches
for a clump of lacy plants with soft purple flowers. He yanks one out of the ground.
“It’s got an extensive root system, big & woody. The plant itself is 6 feet tall, these spikes of
beautiful light purple flowers, lots of them, so very eye-catching.”
It’s purple loosestrife, and it’s invading everywhere – including Johnson Creek, in the Superior
National Forest, north of Duluth Minnesota. The creek flows into a wetland here, near a
highway.
This area is a favorite spot for mallards and other water birds. But Greenlee says the loosestrife
could change that.
“As the invasion of a marsh progresses, there’s more and more loosestrife and fewer and fewer
native marsh plants – consequently fewer resources for waterfowl that might stop.”
That’s because loosestrife isn’t on the menu for a mallard.
Purple loosestrife is one of several plants that arrived in North America in grain shipments a
hundred years ago. They’ve been spreading across the continent since then. Some – like
loosestrife – have also been grown in gardens.
“It came from Europe, and there are different insects that eat the plant there, but when it was
brought here, the insects didn’t come along. There’s no insect predators, viruses, molds – so
consequently, it’s able to thrive.”
Because they have no natural predators, the exotic plants can shoulder aside the native ones.
That can affect everything in the complex web of life.
“Once they’re there, they’ll always be there, can’t ever restore truly to what used to be. always be
component, so aggressive and hard to get rid of. So it’s kind of a one-way street.”
(walking)
Greenlee is taking an inventory of all the non-native plants in the Superior National Forest. He
says they usually show up along roads and other places where the land is already disturbed.
People bring them, without knowing it, on their tires or their boats.
“And here’s another species we’re tracking; it’s common tansy.”
These kinds of exotic plants are causing a lot of problems around the Great Lakes. The remote
parts of the Superior National Forest aren’t too badly infested yet.
So Greenlee is training a cadre of vigilantes to keep an eye out for non-natives, especially in the
Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.
“It’s a large, pretty intact ecosystem without a lot of invasives yet. It’s a lot harder to get into,
there’s not a lot of people driving down the roads, so the more eyes the better.”
So far, about a dozen people have volunteered. Hikers, and other people who enjoy the outdoors,
people concerned about preserving the unique wilderness of the Boundary Waters. They spent a
day learning how to recognize purple loosestrife, tansy, and the other invasive non-natives.
Greenlee tells his recruits to report to him when they see some, or even to pull them up.
“We’ve had patches pulled in before, our seasonal crews revisit sites & don’t see them after
pulling them. when you have small infestations, can be effective.”
Greenlee hopes next year more people will want to join his volunteer team, and help him prevent
a major infestation of non-native invasive plants in the Superior National Forest.
For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Stephanie Hemphill.
Canada lynx are rare in the U.S. Their populations fluctuate following the population cycles of snowshoe hare, their main prey. Photo courtesy of the Gov't of NW Territories.
University of Minnesota researcher Chris Burdette monitors the cat's movements in the region.
A lynx trap used by researchers to help monitor the population.
Some areas of the Great Lakes are again home to an elusive wild cat. Canada Lynx disappeared from the region about twenty years ago. Now, considered threatened, lynx are turning up in the Superior National Forest for the first time in decades. Biologists are trying to figure out why they’ve come back, and whether they’ll stay. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Bob Kelleher reports:
Transcript
Some areas of the Great Lakes are again home to an elusive wild cat. Canada Lynx disappeared
from Minnesota about twenty years ago. Now, considered threatened lynx are turning up in the
Superior National Forest for the first time in decades. Biologists are trying to figure out why
they’ve come back, and whether they’ll stay. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Bob Kelleher
reports:
Lynx have tufted ears, a stubby tail, and big snowshoe feet. They’re a northern forest cat,
about the size of a cocker spaniel. Lynx range across much of Canada and Alaska, but
historically they were found in the Great Lakes region as well. Lynx are loners and range a huge
territory. They seem to follow their favorite prey, snowshoe hare, and recently, Minnesota’s
Superior National Forest has been jumping with hares.
“It doesn’t matter where snowshoe hares are. If they’re there, that’s where cats are going to be.”
University of Minnesota Researcher, Chris Burdette, has one possible explanation for the return
of Canada Lynx.
“There’s a lot of snowshoe hares in this part of the area, and up to 90% of a lynx’s diet is
snowshoe hares.”
Hare populations boom and bust in about seven-year cycles. But in recent population booms, the
lynx were missing. By the mid-1990s, lynx were considered gone from Minnesota, until now.
Three years ago, the cats were spotted again in the region.
Burdette has just begun to count and track northeast Minnesota’s lynx. Two cats have been fitted
with radio collars. It’s not yet clear how many others are wandering the forest. And Burdette
says, lynx do wander.
“It’s very likely that the majority of these animals migrated from Canada. These animals innately
want to disperse long distances.”
Burdette was checking his traps recently, marching through dense balsam fir and the last
remnants of spring snow.
(walking through snow)
His lynx traps are chicken wire boxes, the size of a big dog house, with a bit of hare or beaver in
the back and a door on the front poised to slap shut. But on this day, there were no lynx to be
found.
“It seems like it’s been in there. We cover it up with some balsam, spruce, pine
boughs – whatever we have to sort of make it look more natural. So this one looks clear.”
Lynx were added to the list of threatened species three years ago. An environmental group sued
the U.S. Fish and Wildlife service, saying the agency’s recovery plans overlooked lynx
populations in the Western Great Lakes, Maine and the Southern Rockies.
Mike Leahy, Counsel for Defenders of Wildlife, says it’s clear there are lynx in the Great Lakes
Region.
“The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources had for a long time vehemently denied that
there could possibly be more than one or two lynx in the entire state, and, they found indeed,
there’s a resident population of lynx in Minnesota.”
Lynx aren’t entirely welcomed. Some residents worry that rules protecting the threatened species
might stop timber sales, or close roads and recreation trails. They remember the Pacific
Northwest, where logging was stopped for spotted owls. But that won’t happen for lynx,
according to Superior National Forest Biologist, Ed Lindquist.
“It’s certainly not a four-legged spotted owl. It really likes regenerating forest – dense
regenerating forest – that provides good snowshoe hare habitat.”
And regenerating forest is what you get after harvesting timber. New aspen growth attracts hares.
Lynx also need older growth nearby for shelter.
Chris Burdette’s study will help create a lynx recovery plan. But he says recovery – actually
getting the cat off federal protection – isn’t even on the horizon.
“No where near it. Very preliminary stages. We’re just in the data collection stage right now, so we
can put some kind of scientific thoughts into the process of managing this species.
There’s little known about the elusive cat or it’s prey. Understanding snowshoe hares will help
researchers understand the lynx.
“Are they going to be here in three years? Are they going to be here in five years, or whatever?
That’s a very open question.”
Burdette will trap lynx until bears begin raiding the bait in his box traps. Then he’ll radio track
collared lynx and monitor hare feeding areas for signs of lynx. The lynx study is funded for three
years, but it might take ten to begin understanding this rare cat.
For The Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Bob Kelleher.
Researchers collect as much information as they can to take advantage of the rare opportunity of being close to a
tranquilized moose. Photo by Stephanie Hemphill.
Biologists fit the moose with tags. The study will track 60 moose for five years, to learn what factors are limiting the population in Northeastern Minnesota. Photo by Stephanie Hemphill.
A bull moose walks away after being fitted with a radio collar. Photo courtesy Pam Coy, Minnesota DNR.
Many wildlife lovers consider moose to have a special mystique. Adult moose are bigger than horses, and they seem fearless. But biologists don’t know much about many moose populations. A team of researchers is just beginning to learn about one herd of 4,000 moose in the Northwoods. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie Hemphill reports:
Transcript
Many wildlife lovers consider moose to have a special mystique. Adult moose are bigger than
horses, and they seem fearless. But biologists don’t know much about many moose populations.
A team of researchers is just beginning to learn about one herd of 4,000 moose in the
northwoods. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie Hemphill reports:
Half a dozen big four-wheel-drive pickups are parked at a boat landing on MacDougal Lake. It’s
about 30 miles west of the Lake Superior shore, in the heart of the Superior National Forest in
Northeastern Minnesota. The forest is twice the size of Delaware.
It’s 25 degrees. At the edge of the frozen lake, men in conservation officer uniforms are standing
around a small fire. They’re waiting to hear from the helicopter. The crew on the helicopter is
shooting moose with a tranquilizer gun. They need to get up close to the animals to learn more
about them.
Scientists think more moose could be living in this area. Mike Shrage is a biologist with the
Fond du Lac band of Chippewa. He says they’d like to know why there aren’t more moose here.
There are several possible reasons.
“Wolves, bears, lack of habitat, hunting and other kinds of human-related mortality, automobile
accidents.”
Shrage is listening to a radio cradled in a canvas holster on his shoulder. He cocks his head to
catch every word.
“There’s three of them there.”
The helicopter crew has spotted some moose.
“Yeah, I think they’re bulls.”
“These are three bulls. It’s not uncommon this time of year, you’ll get small groups of them
hanging together for awhile. Little bachelor groups.”
Shrage says the helicopter crew will try to chase one of the moose into an open area, like a frozen
lake, where they can get an easy shot.
“And if it lays down right in the lake, then they can sit down on the ice next to it. It makes
everything a lot easier.”
“Yeah, he’s gonna hopefully drop in the spot where they can get right to him.”
“I think they must already have a dart in him and they’re just waiting for it to take effect.”
The helicopter drops off a crew member to stay with the moose, and comes back to the boat
landing to pick up a radio collar.
(sound of helicopter)
Counting moose is a challenge. A recent survey in this area showed a drop from 5,000 to 4,000
animals in one year. But researchers admit there could be a 25% margin of error in those figures.
That’s because it’s hard to find the moose in heavily wooded areas. The collaring project will
make counts more accurate.
Three biologists are gathered around the latest moose to be fitted with a collar. He’s a mature
bull. He’s lying on his side in the middle of a huge frozen swamp.
He’s blindfolded to make the process less stressful. He seems to snore, while the biologists poke
and prod.
They take blood samples to check on hormones and blood chemistry, and to look for disease.
They also pull a tooth to send to a lab. They can get an exact age by measuring the rings on the
tooth.
Glenn Delgiudice takes notes on the animal’s fat reserves. That’s a good indication of its overall
health.
Delgiudice even uses an ultrasound machine to measure the fat in the moose’s rear end.
“Rump fat is one of the main fat depots of these animals, and also one of the first to go. They
mobilize their fat depots generally in a sequence. So we measure the depth of the fat with
ultrasound.”
Another key indicator of the animal’s health is the condition of its hair. This moose has most of
its hair. They aren’t all so lucky. Some of them have scratched a lot their hair off.
“Rick yesterday saw a calf of one of our cows that was, ‘what’d you say Rick, only 25% hair?’ So
that one’s been rubbing and scratching for a long time. And, of course, when they’re doing that
rubbing and scratching and biting, they’re not foraging, and it can drain them over time.”
The collar has to fit just right. If it’s too loose, a moose can get a foot caught in it. If it’s too
tight, it can bind, especially in the fall mating season when the bulls’ necks get thicker.
“Yep, that looks good.”
(clicking)
Finally the moose is given an antidote to the tranquilizer, pain-killer, and sedative that have kept
him immobile for about half an hour.
“You know, you’ll see his ears twitch, and he’ll start to lift his head,” Delgiudice says. “The
moose are better at getting up than deer typically. They just get up, loosen up a little bit, and
then lope away.”
The moose struggles up, stands for a minute, and then saunters off toward the trees.
That’s moose number five for the day. The team is planning to track 60 moose for five years.
It’ll tell them what kills these moose and what’s keeping the population from growing.
For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Stephanie Hemphill, in the Superior National Forest.
In northern Minnesota, huge stretches of the popular Boundary Waters Canoe
Area Wilderness were severely damaged in a massive July fourth storm. One
hundred mile an hour winds flattened trees in a swath thirty miles long and
twelve miles wide. The emergency prompted the forest service to suspend the
rules against motors in the wilderness. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s
Stephanie Hemphill reports it may take months to make the portages useable
again:
A 100-acre tract in the Superior National Forest is the latest battleground in the ongoing war over how public lands are managed. It’s been the subject of court rulings, blockades, and protest rallies. As the Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Stephanie Hemphill reports, the conflict is stirring up an emotional debate that so far has taken the usual line of jobs versus the environment:
