A
few inches of crusty snow reflect the sunshine brightly, and the sounds of
dripping icicles fill the air. A stiff breeze tousles my hair, but even that is
not enough for me to put on a hat. Thirty-one years ago today, my birthday, a
blizzard howled through the Midwest, and my parents were lucky that a short
break in the storm allowed them to get safely to the hospital. Today, in only a
sweater and jeans, I am overheating like crazy. Mittens dangle in my hands, and
my windbreaker flaps around my waist.
This
warm spell triggers a little daydream about canoe season. My mind drifts back
to a calm August morning near Long Island Lake in the Boundary Waters. It was
the first portage of the morning, and as we slid up on the smooth sand, we
noticed that someone else had been there first. Someone with six-inch long
toes, two per foot, shaped like a mirrored pair of commas.
Thinking
of the large, gangly moose that made those tracks takes me back to a very
different adventure in the Green Mountains of Vermont. I was snowshoeing up
through a drifted alpine glade with some classmates, and we came upon a moose
trail. The moose’s feet had punched huge round holes in the snow’s crust, which
destabilized it. The fractured crust could no longer hold us on top either, and
we sank through up to our hips.
The
depth of the snow did not seem problematic to the moose. Moose’s bellies are
about 35 inches off the ground, twice as high as a deer’s, and just about up to
my waist. In addition to having a height advantage, moose can lift their front
feet nearly shoulder high, enabling them to travel easily over fallen trees and
through deep snow. Hollow insulating hair and a huge body mass (1,000 pounds
easily), combine to make them well adapted to cold, snowy winters.
We
clumsily followed the tracks for a little bit, and in one shrubby opening I
noticed a strange pattern. The moose’s footprints went on either side of a
10-15 foot-tall mountain maple. Why was the moose straddling a tree? I grabbed
as high up as I could and bent the top of the flexible sapling down to
eye-level. Sure enough, the tips were torn off raggedly, a result of the
moose’s lack of upper incisors. The huge herbivore was walking over shrubs,
bending them underneath its huge belly, and then munching on the most tender
buds.
Have you seen a moose in Wisconsin lately? Probably
not. You’re lucky if you have, since only about 20-40 remained in the state as
of 2003. Historically, moose were common in
the northern third of Wisconsin. Hunting, habitat change, and competition from deer
caused their extirpation in the early 1900s. Moose from Michigan and Minnesota
have since wandered back into our state, but have not established a significant
population. The two primary reasons, according to biologists, are a lack of
habitat and relatively high deer numbers. Deer carry brainworm, a parasite that
can be tolerated by deer, but that kills many moose.
It is days like today that make it
harder for moose to live here or in neighboring states. In winter, moose tend
to exhibit heat stress at 20 degrees Fahrenheit. When the entire winter is
warmer, moose are stressed all season. Higher temperatures in the summer are no
better.
Add
this to the fact that the moose’s pests like
mild winters, and you have a problem. Biologists
are now documenting individual adult moose infested with from 50,000 to 70,000
ticks, a ten- to twentyfold increase over what used to be
a normal load. The stressors were too great for the moose population in northwestern
Minnesota, which plummeted from 4,000 animals in the 1980’s, to less than 100
just a few years ago. In northeastern Minnesota the population has been halved
in just six years, dropping
from 8,840 animals in 2006 to just 4,230 in 2012.
"A
variety of factors may be contributing to the decline, but ultimately I think
the real driving force is the climate," says Dennis Murray, main author of
the northwestern Minnesota moose study. "The climate change is tipping the
balance."
As
I hoof it back up the hill toward home, I can empathize with the moose. Thirty-one
is a fine age, but a terrible temperature for January. What little skiable snow
we had is melting, my expensive winter gear is languishing in a closet, and all
sorts of insect pests are surviving cozily in their warm hibernacula, just
waiting for spring. At this rate, they will not have to wait long. Sobering
thoughts for a warm, sunny, birthday walk.
For over 44 years, the Museum has
served as a guide and mentor to generations of visitors and residents
interested in learning to better appreciate and care for the extraordinary
natural resources of the region. The Museum invites you to visit its facility
in Cable at 13470 County Highway M. The current exhibit, STAR POWER: Energy
from the Sun, opened in May 2012 and will remain open until April, 2013.
Find us on the web at
www.cablemuseum.org to learn more about our exhibits and programs. Discover us
on Facebook, or at our blogspot,
http://cablemuseumnaturalconnections.blogspot.com/.
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