Dig Deeper: State Director Letter

State director Toni Hardesty discusses her transition to The Nature Conservancy, her connection with Idaho, and projects for the future in her Spring state director letter.

Download here, and find all our publications on nature.org/Idaho.

Sharptail Grouse

Photographer Paul Plante shared these stunning images of sharptail grouse from a recent visit to the Hixon Sharptail Project.

 Learn more about our recent work with the Hixons here.

All images copyright Paul Plante.

Thank You for Joining Us

We would like to extend a very big thank you to all the supporters and partners that joined us for our state director open houses in Hailey and Boise.

For those of you in other parts of the state, we will be holding open houses in east and north Idaho this summer. Stay tuned for dates and locations!

Fence Work for Wildlife at Crooked Creek

Chris Little, the Conservancy in Idaho's east Idaho field representative, sent the following dispatch from a successful volunteer day at our Crooked Creek project. 

On March 23rd six volunteers and two Conservancy employees traveled to Crooked Creek to (a) help put up fence flags on a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) allotment fence and (b) remove old fence wire on the Conservancy's Bezold Ranch.

 

For the fence flag project, we successfully placed about 1700 flags on 2.25 miles of fencing. The fence divides the North and South Devil’s Gap pastures, which are BLM allotments that the Conservancy has grazing permits on.  The fence runs by Devil’s Gap--a natural geographic bottle neck that funnels moving wildlife, most notably sage-grouse and pronghorn, through a small area.  The fence and the resulting wildlife collisions are a hazard for these and other species; flagging the fence will help to reduce these unwanted collisions, which can injury or death to wildlife.  This area is especially important for lekking sage-grouse and these flags will reduce negative impacts to leks.

 

 

For the second half of the day, we traveled to the Bezold property where the crew worked to removed wire from old, abandoned fence lines that bisect the riparian valley through the center part of the property.  Such fences are a danger for moving wildlife and we intend to remove as much fence as possible to increase the quality of wildlife habitat.  This area is especially important for brood-rearing sage-grouse who seek these riparian areas for protection and forage.  We were able to drop about .75 miles of fence by the end of the day.

--Chris Little

{images by Chris Little and Marilynne Manguba}

Join Us: State Director Open Houses

Join us in welcoming new state director Toni Hardesty to The Nature Conservancy. We have two open houses in April as an opportunity for you to meet Toni, and for Toni to meet you! Come share your stories of Idaho, of conservation, and of your hopes for the future. These informal open houses will be in Hailey and Boise.

Hailey's open house is an after-work meet and greet with refreshments. Boise's open house will be a brown bag luncheon. Bring along your lunch, we will provide drinks and dessert.

For more information on the open houses, please call (208) 788-8988. Registration is not required. We hope to see you there!

Also, read a letter from Toni about her move to the Conservancy.

Don't live near Hailey or Boise? More open houses will be scheduled this summer and will be announced here, on Facebook, and on Twitter.

How "Green" Is Your Lawn?

It’s true: A green lawn is often not a green lawn.

Many of you already know this, but neighborhood peer pressure keeps you reaching for weed spray, fertilizer and a lawnmower.

When you step through your front door, do you feel like you’ve landed on the set of American Beauty?

Do you worry that your attempts at eco-friendly landscaping will draw more overzealous homeowner’s association enforcers than butterflies?

Fear not, cool green suburbanite, because creating a more wildlife-friendly yard is easier than you think. You too can become a refuge for the local critters, win the approval of your neighbors and lower your carbon footprint.

Several years ago, my wife and I replaced our very green (in color) front yard with native and drought-tolerant plants. Living in the arid West, we wanted to reduce our use of water—and lessen our mowing time.

As we tore up all that grass, we met with the predictable looks, scowls and disapproving remarks from our neighbors.

But a funny thing happened on our way to native flora.

Goldfinches, hummingbirds and swallowtails became regular visitors. So did neighborhood kids, drawn by the more visually interesting mix of rocks, wavy grasses and wildflowers. Random people started stopping by to learn more about particularly pretty plants.

Why? Because, in reality, few people really love all that green grass. There are more interesting things to do with your yard—and your time. Here are some tips to get you started:

1. Get Reel. As anyone trying to sleep in on a summer Saturday can attest, gas lawnmowers should be cited for disturbing the peace. They’re loud, smelly and often unreliable. Use your own power instead, with a reel mower. There’s no pollution, and you may find that lawn mowing is a lot more pleasant.

2. Plant for Wildlife. There are a number of ways to make your yard a safe haven for the wild things. The National Wildlife Federation’s Backyard Wildlife Habitat can get you pointed in the right direction.

3. Plant Natives. You don’t have to tear out your whole lawn; just a corner of native plants will draw butterflies and birds. As ecologist Michael Rosenzweig notes, if everyone did this in a neighborhood, it would create a sizeable wildlife refuge. Just think of the possibilities if every neighborhood incorporated native vegetation.

4. Grow Your Food. Concerned about how far your food is traveling? The ultimate local food is from your back (or front) yard. Even a very small space can produce enough veggies to help reduce your grocery bill while reducing your carbon footprint.

5. Lay off the Spray. Herbicides and other pesticides don’t just stay in your yard. They run off into the water, impacting amphibians, fish and other wildlife. The fact is, you don’t need these toxic chemicals around. Organizations like the Northwest Coalition for Alternatives to Pesticides offer free tips on how to solve your weed, insect and pest problems without resorting to nasty chemicals.

--Matt Miller

Image courtesy of Jennifer Miller

Conservation Legacy: The Hixons

The Nature Conservancy recently announced the donation of a 110-acre easement in Washington County, in Hells Canyon, by conservationists Tim and Joe Hixon.


This easement will keep national forest lands connected, ensure the property remains a working ranch and provide habitat for wildlife ranging from elk to white-headed woodpeckers.

It also builds on a substantial western Idaho conservation legacy established by the Hixon family.

The Hixons have also donated nearby conservation easements protecting an additional 1827 acres along the Wildhorse River in Hells Canyon.

They have also played an important role in an amazing conservation success story.

In the 1980s, Tim and Karen Hixon donated funds for the Conservancy to purchase a 4200-acre ranch which contained the last population of Columbia sharp-tailed grouse in western Idaho.

In the 1970s, it was believed that these birds had disappeared from this part of the state. In 1977, a Bureau of Land Management manager accidentally discovered a small spring dancing ground—also known as a lek--on a private ranch near Midvale Hill. Sharp-tailed grouse, like many grouse species, gather each spring on these dancing grounds as a mating display.



The manager alerted then BLM biologist Alan Sands of his discovery. This prompted extensive searching effort throughout Washington and Adams counties, resulting in the discovery of three other dancing grounds, two more of which were on the same ranch.

The Nature Conservancy worked with Tim and Karen Hixon to purchase the ranch. Now known as the Hixon Sharptail Project, the effort to protect and restore these grouse has been a spectacular success, with grouse populations continuing to increase. In many parts of their range, these grouse have continued on a precipitous decline.

The contributions of the Hixons have truly made western Idaho a better place. Their latest easement gift builds on that outstanding legacy. Thank you!

Top image: TNC files, bottom image: Alan Sands/TNC.

Blumenstein Internship

Last fall, I had the great opportunity to speak with Jack and Sarah Blumenstein for a story on the Charlie Blumenstein Water and Wildlife Conservation Internship, which I was writing for our Idaho annual report.

The internship funds a summer internship at Silver Creek for a Colorado College student, and is a tremendous learning opportunity for students and a tremendous benefit to our work at Silver Creek.

Jack and Sarah started the internship as a way to remember their son Charlie, who tragically died as a young man. In talking to them about the internship, I was inspired by their vision, kindness and passion for their son's legacy and for conservation.

Sadly, Jack Blumenstein passed away unexpectedly on February 29. We are all saddened by the loss, and our thoughts go to Sarah and the Blumenstein family. In memory of both Jack and Charlie, we are reprinting the full story of the internship here.

Remembering Charlie
Visit Silver Creek in the summer, and you’ll probably see a flurry of activity: people planting trees, leading tours, fixing fence, greeting visitors, painting buildings. Taking the lead on much of the efforts are the Conservancy’s great interns. We truly couldn’t do it without them.

The interns, in turn, gain working experience while enjoying one of the most beautiful streams in the country. Many echo the sentiments of 2010 intern Dominique Lucio, who called the intern experience “one of the best and most educational of my life.”

Funding Lucio’s experience was the Charlie Blumenstein Water and Wildlife Conservation Internship at Colorado College. The story of that internship is the story of a legacy, a memory, of another young man who was touched by the Silver Creek experience.

Charlie Blumenstein was an avid fly fisher, hydrologist and conservationist who—like so many with his passions—fell in love with Silver Creek on visits there with his parents and two brothers.

He credited his informal, out-of-classroom, extra-curricular, field experiences with his decision to become a hydrologist.

Charlie shared his passion with his family, and his parents Jack and Sarah credit him with educating them about stream conservation and water resources in the West.

In 2003, Charlie tragically died of stomach cancer at age 29, a terrible loss for family and friends.
“We knew we had to do something to honor and remember him,” said his father, Jack. “We realized we could do something that combined two of his loves, Colorado College and Silver Creek.”

The internship was born from this idea, and has been since been almost entirely funded by family friends. Since 2004, eight Blumenstein interns have lived and worked at Silver Creek for the summer, providing invaluable help to the Conservancy’s work while also furthering their own education and professional resumes.

Jack and Sarah Blumenstein, who own a home in Sun Valley, are able to spend time with the interns and host them at their home during the summer. “It’s been an absolutely wonderful program to remember Charlie,” Sarah said . “And it’s a wonderful way to make a contribution to sustaining Silver Creek.”

Jack and Sarah were increasingly involved in other Conservancy projects, including at Idaho’s South Fork of the Snake River and the Henry’s Fork, as well as Alaska. Recently, they took a trip to southern Africa, and appreciated the chance to discuss global conservation with Conservancy lead scientist Sanjayan at Silver Creek’s 35th anniversary gala.

“The Conservancy has a big mission but does an excellent job of making sure the conservation happens on the ground,” said Jack. “We are huge fans and believers in the organization. We are so happy to be able to contribute to the Conservancy’s work in our own small way, and to remember Charlie and his love of Silver Creek.” --Matt Miller

Great Horned Owls

It's the hooting season.

On nearly every evening walk at this time of year, I look forward to hearing the haunting HOOOOT-hoot-hoot-hoot of great horned owls. If I stop, I can often see one silently flying from tree to tree. Somtimes, they even land just above my head.

Great horned owls begin calling to potential mates as early as October. They will pair off this month. At this time of year, they call to each other more frequently--what is called "duetting."

The owls breed in January and February--among the earliest of any birds on the continent. But they're still active now. If you take an evening walk this month, listen carefully--you may hear the haunting hoots echoing across the landscape.

And you have a good chance of hearing great horned owls wherever you are in Idaho. They are one of the most adaptable birds in the Americas, found from Canada to Tierra del Fuego, in small woodlots and vast wilderness, in sagebrush and city parks, in deserts and along rivers.

It's a great time of year to take an evening walk. The sounds of coyotes howling mixed with various active birds--from red-winged blackbirds to ducks to warblers--creates a lovely spring symphony. Get outside, and enjoy the nature that is found nearby, wherever you live in Idaho.

Idaho Winter Newsletter: Forests

If a tree falls in the forest...

...someone probably has an opinion on it.

Forests inspire us, provide for us, recharge our spirits. But forests can also divide. Some of the most contentious environmental debates in Idaho have been around the management of our forests.

Your support of The Nature Conservancy is charting a new future: one where diverse interests can work together to conserve private and public forests, benefiting wildlife, local communities,
outdoor recreation, and, of course, trees.

Download our winter newsletter for an exploration of the opportunities—and issues—in conserving Idaho’s public and private forests.

Born out of Gridlock

There’s a popular old saying you doubtless know well: Great minds think alike.

The problem is, it’s often the opposite: People—even those with great minds—can see issues very differently.

In the Clearwater region of central Idaho, the story has focused on differences. Big differences.

The timber wars. Environmentalists versus loggers. Endangered species listings. Decline of elk herds. Wilderness. Off-road vehicles. Fire. Clearcuts.

For decades, these issues and others have resulted in lawsuits, name calling and rancor.
The results? National forests languish because no one can agree on management actions. The forests suffer, as do the people and wildlife who need them.

In the end, nobody wins.

The Clearwater Basin Collaborative charts a different course. The Nature Conservancy joins other conservation groups, the forest products industry, the Nez Perce Tribe, recreational enthusiasts and agencies to develop collaborative solutions.

It’s a different model: Great minds think together.

Sitting at the table, the coalition addresses everything from forest management to wilderness designation. Do members always agree? Absolutely not. But they do listen, and work together to come up with solutions.

There are always those who say this won’t work, that compromise only weakens solutions. But what has the fighting really accomplished? For too long, the only voices being heard were the loudest and most strident.

“The Clearwater Basin Collaborative was born out of gridlock,” says Alex Irby, a member of the collaborative representing off-road vehicle recreation. “We started with a facilitator to get us over the tough hurdles. Today, we’ve become so accustomed to working together that we have group members who respect each, who work together to find solutions out of gridlock.”

Each member of the collaborative brings a different perspective. The Nature Conservancy recognizes the Clearwater for its large, intact forests, for its importance to wildlife, for its clean waters and wild rivers. Our approach has long been to meet human needs while achieving our mission of biodiversity conservation.

The Clearwater Basin Collaborative scored its first major victory by receiving funding from the Collaborative Forest Landscape Restoration Act (CLFRA), having been ranked the third highest forest collaborative program nationally.

The funding allows for prescribed fire, non-native weed control, trail maintenance and pre-commercial thinning—providing much needed management that contributes to the forest health of the region.

Working and listening can shape a new future for the Clearwater. Check out the Clearwater Basin Collaborative’s web site for more information on the issues this coalition is addressing.—Matt Miller

Spring Dance

They appear like ghosts before light: small groups of plump, puffy birds standing amongst the sagebrush.

Sage grouse.

At first, I count ten, then a few more appear. Soon fifty male grouse begin their daily dance, strutting and puffing and popping the air sacs on their breasts.

The annual sage grouse strut is one of the West’s most memorable wildlife spectacles. Each year, the male grouse return to their display grounds—called leks—to give their courtship display to females. The females check out the ostentatious display and pick a mate.

Unfortunately, this is a sight becoming increasingly rare across the West. Where once thousands of grouse flew, there are now hundreds. Where there were hundreds, there are now dozens. And in many places, sage grouse are completely gone.

What happened to the grouse? And is there any way to stop this disturbing trend?

The Not-So-Endless Sage
When European settlers traveled the Oregon Trail, the sagebrush deserts seemed endless and unforgiving. Today, driving the interstate through southern Idaho and Oregon, it might seem similar, as if the sagebrush plains go on forever.

A closer examination reveals much has changed.

Healthy sagebrush habitat is actually not just sagebrush but a rich mosaic of other shrubs, grasses and wildflowers.

It is common to hear people to refer to sagebrush as “barren” or “empty,” this is simply not the case. In fact, a wide variety of creatures rely on sagebrush to survive.

It’s a very nutritious plant for mule deer and pronghorn. Many bird species survive only in sagebrush, including the aptly named sage sparrow and sage thrasher. There are even spiders found only in sagebrush.

And then there’s the sage grouse. Nearly every phase of the grouse’s life relies on sagebrush.

They eat it, they nest in it, hide in it, seek cover during the winter under big sagebrush’s branches.

Lose the sagebrush, and you lose the sage grouse.

And we are losing sagebrush, across the West. For years, sagebrush was considered a nuisance plant, and range managers burned it, sprayed it and knocked it over by dragging chains across the desert.

Today, the loss continues. In part, this is due to the development of habitat for agriculture, energy and housing. But another loss is more subtle, and perhaps even more of a threat.

Fire in the Brush
Over the years, many conservationists have come to appreciate the role of fire in forests. Fire is often necessary to maintain the health of that ecosystem. When the Yellowstone fire raged, many predicted that the park would never recover—a prediction that quickly was proven inaccurate.

Given this, why are land manager so concerned about fire in sagebrush country?

Fire is indeed a natural aspect of sagebrush habitat. However, in most places, fire historically has burned infrequently, only every 50 to 75 years.

Today, however, non-native weeds like cheatgrass thrive in fire. Their seeds await fire, and then take hold. Unlike sagebrush and other native plants, cheatgrass thrives in fire. It greens up rapidly in the spring, and then dies.

This dry vegetation is like tinder, burning easily.

This starts a cycle where the cheatgrass burns much more frequently than the native plants. The sagebrush doesn't have a chance. After several burns, it never recovers. This leaves the monocultures of cheatgrass so common on too many western hillsides.

When that happens, the sage grouse disappear.

Hope for Grouse
Fortunately, there are still places where grouse still strut. Southern Idaho remains a stronghold for the species. Ensuring that these birds and their habitat continues to thrive is much less expensive than trying to restore grouse when they disappear.

Around southern Idaho, sage grouse working groups have formed to protect and restore habitat. These groups consist of conservationists, sportsmen, ranchers and agency officials. Their work is in part motivated by a desire to keep the grouse off the endangered species list.

In many parts of the state, these groups are funding the control of weeds and restoration of native plants.

The Nature Conservancy considers the protection of sagebrush habitat one of its highest priorities in Idaho. From the Owyhees of southwestern Idaho to the Craters of the Moon/Pioneer Mountains region, the Conservancy works with partners to make sure the highest quality sagebrush remains intact for grouse and other species that need it to survive.

One notable example is the Crooked Creek Valley, located 20 miles from the small town of Dubois in eastern Idaho. Local falconers, who hunt with raptors, first alerted the Conservancy about this area.

The sage grouse is a favorite quarry of falconers. The falconers knew the Crooked Creek area had some of the strongest remaining sage grouse populations anywhere in the West.

Today, the Conservancy owns 5000 acres in the valley, and also work on 60,000 acres of grazing allotments. Since 2001, work with partners has restored both sagebrush and stream habitat. And the grouse continue to thrive.

See The Sage Grouse Strut
You can see dozens of grouse strutting at Crooked Creek each spring.

Dubois Grouse Days offers tours to see the birds on their display grounds. This year’s event takes place on April 27 and 28 in the town of Dubois, and includes not only the grouse tours, but educational talks, great food and camaraderie with other grouse enthusiasts.

Founded by the late falconer and conservationist Kent Christopher, Grouse Days was envisioned as a way to excite people about sage grouse and their conservation. The success of this annual event is a legacy of Christopher's tremendous love for sage grouse and the country they inhabit.

The video below was taken during last year's Grouse Days by conservationist Jean Bjerke. It gives a good idea of what you can expect to see.

It’s worth the trip. Enjoy the show. The more people appreciate sage grouse—and sagebrush—the more likely it is that these special birds will remain a part of our wildlife heritage.--Matt Miller

Photos: Sage grouse hen with brood by Ken Miracle; all other sage grouse images by Bob Griffith. Grouse days video by Jean Bjerke.

Private Landowners Team Up to Protect Wildlife Habitat

Private working forests offer tremendous benefits to both wildlife and people.

North Idaho's forests are home to many animals that are "wide roamers"--they have huge home ranges and move about from one forest to the next. Private working forests keep this area as one connected whole, giving wildlife room to roam.

These forests also provide valuable timber to keep local mills in operation.

The Nature Conservancy believes it's important to keep both bears and loggers in the woods. That's why our work in North Idaho aims to keep working forests working.

The State of Idaho was recently awarded a grant from the U.S. Forest Service to promote private land forest conservation in the Idaho panhandle, an area known for its high conservation value.

The grant will allow the State of Idaho, working in partnership with The Nature Conservancy, to purchase conservation easements from two Idaho Boundary County families: the Hubbards and the Wages.

Conservation easements on these properties will restrict development on approximately 1,700 acres, supporting working forests and protecting important fish and wildlife habitat, including habitat for five threatened and endangered species.

These families will also be assured that the property they have owned and managed for more than 50 years will remain intact, leaving a legacy of conservation for their heirs.

Read the full story.

Nature Conservancy, Purdy Family Announce Partnership to Restore Kilpatrick Pond

The Nature Conservancy and the Purdy family have signed an agreement to restore Kilpatrick Pond on Silver Creek, an impounded area that has trapped sediments for decades.

The agreement focuses on restoring the stream to a more natural path, creating wetlands and lowering water temperatures.

The Kilpatrick Pond project will be the largest restoration effort ever undertaken on Silver Creek. The project is also the most significant action that can be undertaken to reduce water temperatures at Silver Creek, recognized by ecologists as the main long-term threat to this world-class trout stream.

Because of the size and complexity of the project, in addition to extensive planning through the next several months, the University of Idaho will be building a model of the pond. Interested people will be able to see in real time how the newly designed reach of Silver Creek looks as water flows through it.

Kilpatrick Pond is the impounded portion of Silver Creek that includes parts of Silver Creek Preserve and the Purdys’ Double R Ranch. Due to an irrigation diversion dam on the Purdys’ property, sediments have been trapped in this pond.

These sediments have filled in the historic stream channel, creating a mostly wide and shallow pond where water heats up quickly in the summer sun. Such conditions are not good for the long-term health of the stream or the fishery.

Read the full story.

Toni Hardesty named Nature Conservancy's Idaho State Director

Toni Hardesty, director of the Idaho Department of Environmental Quality, has been named the new director of The Nature Conservancy in Idaho, the non-profit global conservation organization reported today.

Hardesty will oversee The Nature Conservancy’s work around the state, focusing on collaborative projects that protect land and water for nature and people.

Hardesty has served as director of Idaho’s DEQ since 2004, when she was appointed by Governor Dirk Kempthorne. Since then, she has been reappointed by Governors James Risch and C.L. “Butch” Otter. As director, she was responsible for leading efforts to preserve the quality of Idaho’s air, land and water for the use and enjoyment today and in the future.

An Idaho native, Hardesty has also worked in the private sector and for the Environmental Protection Agency.

”The Idaho Board of Trustees is very excited to have Toni join us,” says Irv Littman, board chair. “She brings great experience, exciting new perspectives and a proven leadership record to help us continue to protect Idaho’s most spectacular places.”

Read the full news story.

Lose the Memory, Lose the Fish

The sound of migrating salmon splashing was so loud it kept people awake at night.

Imagine that luxury: of lying in bed as salmon after salmon after salmon surged by.

Where did this happen? Alaska? The Russian Far East?

No. This happened in Boise, Idaho.

No need to grab your fishing rod. Those splashing salmon have disappeared.

I live near the Boise River. I fish it regularly. I run and walk along the Greenbelt. It remains a beautiful river, full of trout and whitefish. Bald eagles soar overhead; mule deer graze along the banks. I see river otters and beavers, ospreys and great-horned owls.

But no salmon.

No. Salmon. Here.
Mark Davidson, The Nature Conservancy’s Central Idaho senior conservation manager, grew up on a farm in Jerome, in southern Idaho. Speaking with his family about salmon, even his grandfather couldn’t remember a time when salmon reached the base of Shoshone Falls on the Snake River, once the end of their journey from the sea.

“That memory is important,” Davidson says. “When you lose the memory, you lose the fish.”

Once salmon migrated and spawned in many Idaho rivers. But once they’re gone, they seem like ghosts.

No, worse. They seem…impossible.

Salmon in downtown Boise? No way.

Salmon in the southwestern Owyhee desert? Seriously?

It’s the same for grizzly bears or sage grouse. Lose the memory of them in a place, and they’re gone forever.

Still Here
Fortunately, salmon do still swim in rivers: in Alaska, yes, but also in parts of the Pacific Northwest. It’s not too late.

True, salmon face a daunting set of obstacles and challenges as they complete a 900-mile journey. Idaho’s fish are born in small tributary streams. As fry, they swim to the ocean, then as adults repeat the entire journey in reverse, returning to their tributary streams to spawn, and then die.

The rivers and streams salmon die for are in the Salmon River valleys of central Idaho.

Sometimes, the salmon make it nearly the entire journey only to find no water in their spawning stream.

But as long as they’re still here, there’s hope. Idaho remains a state where people not only have salmon memories, they can still see the fish jumping falls, finning in shallows, spawning, dying.

The fish are still here. Can we make sure it stays that way?

--Matt Miller

Photo by Michelle Wilhelm, USFWS.

Good Fences

Don't fence me in: so goes the popular 1940's cowboy song. It could also accurately be considered a tenet of conservation today.

Conservationists often view fences as the antithesis of wildness, particularly when it comes to high fences. These fences have come to typify a strategy of national park management in some parts of the world--put a fence around a piece of land, keep people and nature separated. Often, though, that approach seems to reduce parks to the equivalent of zoos.

Last year, I visited Bandhavgarh National Park in India, a famous tiger reserve. Authorities there erected a fence along one border of the park, ostensibly to reduce tiger predation on villagers' cattle.

According to tiger conservationist Satyendra Tiwari, the project was a complete failure: the tigers scaled the fence easily, and continued eating cows. Other wildlife--wolves, spotted deer, porcupines--were blocked off from moving out of the park.

It accomplished nothing and overall harmed wildlife, confirming what most conservationists suspect about fencing.

High fences are also associated with private game ranches, which privatize a public resource. Fences disrupt migration routes. And, well, they look ugly.

And here we come to perhaps what is most disagreeable about high fences: Their aesthetics. They stand for the domestication of what should be wild and free. They mar the landscape. They have no place in pristine nature.

And maybe all of that is true. To a point.

But I'm also struck by points made in Emma Marris' recent book Rambunctious Garden, to my mind one of the most important and insightful conservation books ever published. Marris questions whether any nature can rightfully be called pristine. She then argues that this myth of pristine nature gets in the way of practical solutions.

Sometimes highly managed or engineered nature makes sense for wildlife.

Are there times when a high fence, for instance, actually helps retain wildness?

Highway 21 outside of Boise is a known death trap for mule deer and elk. These animals spend the winter in the Boise foothills. Inevitably they wander onto roads.

Recently, the Idaho Department of Fish and Game installed an underpass for deer and elk to pass under the highway, staying out of harm's way. High fences are used to funnel the animals into the underpass.

Strangely, since the fence has been installed, I've heard repeatedly that it is "ugly." For many people it mars the view and the landscape. It doesn't fit with our foothills aesthetic.

Even official reports on reducing wildlife-vehicle collisions note that many people object to wildlife fencing on aesthetic grounds.

To my mind, the sight of roadkill is far worse. The damage inflicted--on the deer herd, on vehicles and on human safety--makes a fence seem like the most minor of intrusions.

Last week, the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation awarded a grant to launch the McArthur Lake Wildlife Safety Project.

McArthur Lake, along Highway 95 between Sandpoint and Bonners Ferry, has the highest rate of wildlife-vehicle collisions in the state. Over the past decade, two people have been killed there in tragic circumstances.

One of the solutions being investigated for the wildlife safety project is fencing along Highway 95, again perhaps altering the view.

But those fences should symbolize balance: they keep wildlife on the move, they make the roadways safer for motorists, they reduce insurance costs.

So fencing has a place in 21st century conservation, perhaps beyond even road safety. As Marris suggests in her book, maybe it's time to recognize that conservationists need to embrace a variety of tools and aesthetics.

Fences around national parks may often be a bad idea, but at times they may be necessary to protect a rare species, or a rare habitat. To buy time.

A high-fenced game ranch may be a way for landowners to bring back, and profit from, native wildlife that has great ecological benefits, like bison on the Great Plains or springbok and other antelopes in southern Africa.

High fencing might even allow for grand conservation experiments, like rewilding. Marris describes this approach being employed to stunning effect in Holland right now, at a place called Oostvaardersplassen. In this park, grazing animals that are the equivalent of Pleistocene herbivores have been reintroduced--including cattle and horse breeds that are similar to extinct ancestors (known as the auroch and tarpan). While this area is now fenced, perhaps it allows for a future where great herds again roam across Europe.

Do good fences make good conservation?

Sometimes, yes.

Clearly that's the case when it keeps deer off the road and on their winter range. Other applications will probably be hotly debated. But in a world with so many people and so many ecological challenges, shouldn't we be experimenting with different conservation techniques and tools as much as possible?

Marris' view of conservation is one of possibility: where different approaches and management techniques contribute to a hopeful vision for the world.

As we shape a future for people and wildlife, maybe the high fence has a place. Maybe it will, paradoxically, become a tool that helps keep our world more wild and more diverse. --Matt Miller

Snowy Owls Invade Idaho

My friend Beth Rasgorshek speaks eloquently and often about the importance of protecting farmland. She grew up on a Canyon County farm and returned here to start her own.

Her Canyon Bounty Farm produces organic seeds, heirloom vegetable starts for area gardeners and organic wheat flour used in several local bakeries and restaurants. She believes in growing good food, and that Canyon County is a great place to do just that.

But the development is hard to ignore. Homes and buildings ominously close in on her farm from all directions. Soaring land prices make it difficult to keep farmland in production. Beth knows Canyon County land also has deep values for food production and open space.

So too does another unusual visitor, here all the way from the Arctic: snowy owls.

For the past few weeks, several of these beautiful owls have been spending their days on farm fields near Nampa. Usually at home among polar bears, what are they doing here?

Snowy owls are usually found only in the Arctic, where they forage on a variety of rodents, but most especially lemmings. In that age-old dance of predators and prey, lemming populations determine much of the snowy owl's abundance and movements.

Lemming are small rodents that are prone to wide population swings. This is similar to population eruptions of other rodents, including the montane voles that periodically explode in numbers around Silver Creek Preserve (including a notable abundance in 2010).

Many people know lemmings as the creatures that build up to such extreme numbers that they run in swarms towards cliffs, where they "commit suicide." This is a false myth generated by an old Disney film. It was later revealed that filmmakers staged the "suicide scene" by gathering a relatively small number of lemmings and herding them over the cliff.

But lemmings do migrate (sometimes falling off cliffs, but accidentally and in small numbers) and certainly become super-abundant. Snowy owls feast on them, and eat about three of these rodents per day. When lemming populations crash, snowy owls must travel south to find good rodent foraging, an event called an owl irruption.

Biologists report healthy lemming populations this year. It appears, though, that this led to an increase in snowy owl chicks. Many young birds couldn't find their own territory, so they flew south to an unfamiliar land of agricultural fields, subdivisions and people.

A few of them ended up in Canyon County. Area birders say that some snowy owls show up there whenver there is an irruption.

This past weekend, a group of friends joined Beth, who had been seeing them near her farm. We found an owl rather easily, as there was a line of cars watching it in the middle of the field.

Snowy owls roost on the ground, and this one was easy to see on the bare earth. The white plumage is definitely more suited to the snowy Arctic than snow-free (at this writing) southern Idaho. The owl stood out--almost resembling a white plastic bag from a distance. With a spotting scope, we managed great views.

The owls are a major attraction for birders. One California birder was skiing at Targhee, in eastern Idaho, and drove across to see these owls.

If you go on your own snowy owl quest, please give these birds plenty of space. They're not used to people. Some biologists say that most snowy owls have seen more polar bears than people.

The ones you'll find in southern Idaho are likely young birds, so they need some room to learn to hunt and figure out the unfamiliar prey of Idaho fields.

Please, please, please do not try to get close to them to get a better photo. Enjoy them at a distance, and use binoculars, spotting scopes or telephoto lenses to get closer--not your feet.

The snowy owls will likely stick around for a few weeks before returning to their Arctic wilderness. In the meantime, let's make sure they feel at home on our area farmland, and let's also recognize the tremendous value these farms provide--for wildlife and for people.--Matt Miller

Photos: Beth Rasgorshek checks out owls. Credit: Matt Miller. Snowy owl photo by pe_ha45 licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license

Winter Range: The Importance of Sagebrush

Settlers along the Oregon Trail learned to hate sagebrush. As if passing through hundreds of miles of it wasn’t enough, their livestock would not touch the plant. They pronounced sagebrush inedible and worthless as forage, and their folk wisdom has been passed down through the generations.

They were right about cattle, but it would be difficult to overestimate the importance of sagebrush as wildlife forage. According to ecologist Dr. Bruce Welch, sagebrush offers from seven to twelve percent crude protein, compared to three percent for grasses and forbs. Sagebrush is also highly digestible, supplying deer (and other big game species) with much needed phosphorous and calcium.

There are sixteen species of sagebrush, and they vary in palatability to mule deer. Wyoming sagebrush and mountain big sagebrush are the most palatable of the common species, with Basin big sagebrush not as preferred. While palatability may play a role when re-seeding sagebrush species in areas where it has been eliminated, deer can survive in areas with any sagebrush species better than without it.

“The bottom line is that even the least palatable species are still very valuable forage,” says Dr. Carl Wambolt, professor of range science at Montana State University. “Even if the most palatable species are gone, the deer and elk will still be living in the existing sagebrush. Basin big sage is the least desired as forage, but it has the highest protein content of any of the species.”

Sagebrush also varies in palatability within species, depending on geography, and even during different times of year. During the spring and summer, sagebrush is less appealing to deer due to the increased amount of certain chemicals.

“The easiest way to think of it is in terms of humans eating chips and salsa,” says Roger Rosentreter, a botanist with the Bureau of Land Management. “In the winter, the sagebrush is like eating a bunch of chips. You can just keep eating them. In the spring, it’s like chips with really, really hot salsa. You are going to eat less.”

This serves a valuable function for the plant and the deer. It allows the deer to benefit from the plant’s nutritious qualities, and browsing in the winter actually helps the plant achieve robust growth. In the summer, when browsing would damage the plant, it is least tasty to deer. The chemicals also protect the sagebrush from insect damage.

One of the most contentious debates in range management is whether or not sagebrush becomes “decadent.” Some hold that sagebrush becomes too thick and competes with the grasses that survive in the understory. They believe that these stands of sagebrush should be thinned to increase other plants for forage.

Research by Bruce Welch and others suggests that thick sage cover actually benefits wildlife. However, in some areas severe livestock overgrazing has eliminated all understory plants. This causes the sagebrush to become a monoculture, crowding out native plants. The solution to this is better grazing management.

“Sagebrush should be dominant on the landscape but not so thick that you can’t walk through it easily,” says Rosentreter.

In healthy habitat, the sagebrush canopy plays an important role in mule deer survival. Not only does it provide cover for deer, it also sticks out well above the snow. Other plants may be covered, but mule deer can still browse on the sage.

“Wading through heavy deep snow is what really kills deer,” says Welch. “It takes a lot of energy out of their systems. Deer will dig down through the snow a ways, but nothing like bison. Sagebrush enables deer to eat without digging or moving around.”

Even in thick canopy cover, other plants thrive, according to Wambolt. “It has definitely been shown that you can have good sagebrush cover and still have a lot of understory plants,” he says. “Removing sagebrush does not increase grass and forbs. That’s controversial, but I have a lot of data that show that.”

Sagebrush is the keystone that enables a whole host of species to survive, from little-known insects to mule deer. --Matt Miller

Backyard Deer

Flying over Boise yesterday--returning home after nearly two weeks of holiday travel--I looked in vain for signs of winter. Everything looked brown, including the ski resort. Leaving the airport I found balmy 50-degree weather.

Last night, though, I saw the first inkling of winter: Deer in the backyard.

I flicked on the backyard light to look for any critters. Immediately two forms appeared, browsing on grass and shrubs.

Maybe it's because I'm used to seeing smaller critters--juncos, fox squirrels--that backyard deer always look so huge, so out of place. In the confines of my yard, they appear as horses.

Even without the snow, they're drawn to the green(ish) lawns of the neighborhood. I know I'll be seeing more of them over the coming months.It's always interesting to see how wildlife adapts to humanity. The mule deer's close relative, the white-tailed deer, excels in this regard. There are almost certainly more whitetails now than at the time of European settlement.

The whitetail thrives in the world of woodlands, cornfields and suburbs--all habitats heavily influenced or created by people. You can find more deer in the suburbs of New Jersey than you can in the vast forests of Maine.

They're survivors.

The mule deer? Despite looking so similar, they're much less suited to humanity.

Sure, they'll be in my neighborhood browsing most winter nights. Some mule deer have even neglected to migrate back into the mountains in the spring, instead choosing the easier existence of feeding on garden plants.

Still, being in close contact with people presents hardships for mulies: Roads. Dogs. Weeds. Loss of winter forage.

Take away sagebrush and the mix of plants that make up a healthy sagebrush community, and deer are likely to starve. They need room to roam, and a mix of native plants to provide nutrition.

It's a tough winter world for deer (and elk, and other large Western mammals). Many will survive by foraging in backyards. But others will find a snowy land where their normal food--sagebrush and bunchgrasses that stand above the snow, providing steady calories--has been displaced by cheatgrass (which the snow flattens, so deer can't reach it).

Protecting healthy habitat is vital to ensuring mule deer remain a part of the Western United States. It's been a focus of The Nature Conservancy's work in Idaho by protecting places that still have healthy sagebrush, like the Owyhees and Pioneer Mountains.

It's also been the focus of other conservationists. The protection of Hammer Flat in Boise, now owned by the Idaho Department of Fish and Game, will protect deer winter range very near my home. Biologists have a plan to restore sagebrush, bitterbrush and other native plants to this area so that deer can better make it through the winter.

Throughout this winter, Idaho Nature Notes will feature the many factors that affect mule deer survival in the winter--and what you can do to help. Working together, we can help mule deer and elk make it through the winter--whether in your backyard, or in the wilderness. --Matt Miller