as our mouths were agape from the raw beauty of the mountainous landscape, we found ourselves coughing – at points choking – on dust. and upon conversing with locals like the taxista on day two, it was clear that the dry climate is far from breaking news. this 10-year drought has become commonplace for mendozans, each year a bit worse than the last.

sure enough, a 2021 study found that five of the largest rivers in the mendoza basin are under extreme hydrological drought conditions. in addition to the desiccation of key wetland ecosystems, agriculture and livestock have suffered tremendously. wine production has decreased by almost a third, and key reservoirs can no longer promise water to local communities. as an attempted pivot, snowfall from the andes has been increasingly relied on – but what happens when snowfall decreases each year? last winter, the valley received no snow at all. snow-covered vistas are either distant in memory, or far up in the mountains.

activism in mendoza

on the final day of our trip, we had the gift of spending time with members of mendoza’s asamblea popular por el agua. this group of young climate activists have planned and implemented a series of largely- attended protests, dances and other events over the past five years. on this day, we drove two hours south to attend a public fair framed around the distribution and celebration of seeds in the town of san carlos.

they shared their work with us, which has proven incredibly effective in creating change and mobilizing substantial numbers of people in the fight for rights to clean water for everyone. their framework of diverse, creative, unrelenting activism allows them to address specific communities with each campaign, ensuring that their message truly reaches everyone.

their campaign also addressed questions of environmental justice in the face of climate change, since the impacts of drought, water pollution, and privatization will be distributed unequally, such that certain communities bare the largest burden of these actions. by utilizing infrastructures that already exist, such as grassroots organizations, farmer coalitions, news channels, famous singers like the puerto rican rap group calle 13, and more, they have brought their message to large audiences.

la feria de semillas adopted this similar technique, bringing local farmers, vendors, specialists, the work of local students, and regional nonprofits into the same space in order to amplify their message and strengthen connections within this network of various actors. having only witnessed four days of mendoza, i found myself blown away. first, at the seriousness of the situation. as environmental crises often are, this drought is at the nexus point of concurrent crises: public health, economic and ecological. second, i was blown away at the wisdom and clarity of the activism already in place. it was targeted, inspiring, and oozing with the joy of community. in my past activism in the u.s., i had never encountered a group that could so gracefully balance hope and reason.

upon boarding the return flight to buenos aires, i felt shaken awake. the land had a lot to say, but so did the people. this work is rich with demonstrations of conflict transformation in practice. the seed fair attendees brought their own history and life experience into the space; each had their personal stories of the drought and its impacts. in order to equalize and publicize the knowledge of this predicament, a panel of local experts elaborated on the historical and current situation.

similarly, there was a native plant workshop, open to the public, where attendees could learn about local plants and how to cultivate them. these structures built both freedom and responsibility for every individual at the fair: by gathering sources of local knowledge and sharing them among the community, each individual becomes an agent of change. they too can distribute this knowledge. they are part of the solution.

alpine – the day in late january began like any other for a mexican wolf pup living in the spectacular solitude of eastern arizona: searching for food with other wolves in the apache national forest.

then came the terrifying chatter of a helicopter, a dash for cover, a jab in the rump – and a nap, courtesy of the sedative telazol, delivered by dart gun.

after being transferred by helicopter to a remote location just outside alpine, the 10-month old male was rushed into a warm, compact trailer where a team of biologists quickly analyzed him.

what they discovered thrilled them.

the capture of this wolf pup – later named mp-1858 – reaffirmed to the team that a decades-old, multistate, multiagency effort to help save the mexican wolf population has made strides.

the biologists placed so much significance on mp-1858 because he was born in the wild, and he left his pack to tag along with a female and male mexican wolf, possibly laying the foundation of a new pack.

the team has spent years placing new-born wolf pups in wild dens – a practice known as cross-fostering – but team members ultimately hope to see an increase in natural-born mexican wolves, such as mp-1858, to help diversify the wolf population and raise its numbers.

young mp-1858 was a rare find.

“we’ve got a pretty good handle on who’s who, but the individual we caught today is a little different,” said maggie dwire, deputy mexican wolf recovery coordinator for the u.s. fish and wildlife service. “we’re not sure why he was running with the group of wolves that he was with. so that kind of thing is really neat, right?”

because mp-1858 was born in the wild, he’s exactly what those striving to boost the mexican wolf population want to see.

government agencies, including the arizona game & fish department, and the private endangered wolf center in missouri have invested millions of dollars and decades worth of research to save the mexican wolf from extinction. those efforts included breeding and releasing adult wolves into the wild, but that program has been placed on the back burner, replaced over the past six years by the cross-fostering program.

every year, they team up to count wolves to evaluate their progress.

“the primary objective for this operation is to get a good count of the wolves that are out there,” said genevieve fuller, a wolf biologist with arizona game & fish. “secondary objective is to capture any animals that are deemed targets” – meaning any wolf found in a counting area.

to researchers, mp-1858 is a wolf that could symbolize the next phase of wolf rehabilitation.

where it all started
since its doors opened in 1971, the endangered wolf center in eureka, missouri, has played a huge role in saving the mexican wolf, through the release of captive-bred adults and cross-fostering pups into the wild.

biologists traced mp-1858’s roots to the endangered wolf center in eureka, missouri. center officials said he likely is the offspring of adult wolves raised and released by the center or the offspring of cross-fostered wolves born in captivity and placed in dens by biologists.

the center has led the mexican wolf cross-fostering program since it began in 2014. founded almost 50 years ago, it sits on 63 isolated, wooded acres of a former military munitions area southwest of st. louis, and is part of the washington university tyson research center. the center was constructed to match the cold, silent and humanless habitat where mexican wolves live.

the center’s goal is to boost the genetic diversity and population of wolves through cross-fostering, in which 8- to 14-day-old pups born in captivity are placed in a den of similar-aged wild pups in remote areas of the southwest.

“when we are looking at fostering pups to the wild, the captive program has a lot of different genetics than what the wild population has,” said regina mossotti, director of animal care and conservation at the endangered wolf center. “so being able to take puppies from facilities like the endangered wolf center and sneaking them into wild litters is a great way for us to be able to get new genetics out into the wild to help keep that wild population healthier.”

mexican wolves breed in april and may, leaving a narrow window for cross-fostering.

“fostering can be incredibly challenging in its own right,” mossotti said. “the stars, the moon, the planets, everything has to align to make it happen.”

to successfully cross-foster a wolf pup, officials must identify a wild wolf that has given birth about the same time that a female wolf in captivity at the center gives birth.

when that does happen, the clock starts ticking.

“we have to be able to find a flight, the weather has to work and we have to have enough people to do it,” mossotti said. “so all these things, these logistics have to come together to make it happen.”

once the team from the endangered wolf center arrives in arizona, game & fish employees join them on a hike to a specific wolf den, often hidden in the rugged terrain along the arizona-new mexico state line.

the team carefully places the captive wolf pups, fitted with tracking collars, into the wild den and leaves them to their new lives.

being part of the cross-fostering process “is so worth it,” mossotti said. “to know that you’re helping release these puppies in the wild to give them that chance of freedom to help save a critically endangered species, there’s nothing better.”

in 1977, the mexican wolf population in the u.s. was down to just seven. the center initially released adult mexican wolves directly into the wild before adopting cross-fostering in 2014. although the direct-release program was considered a success, biologists don’t plan to resume it unless absolutely necessary.

“we wouldn’t have the mexican wolf program today if it (releasing adult wolves) didn’t work,” mossotti said. “but you are releasing naive adults, and that can take them a little bit of time to get used to the area they’re in and to establish a territory.”

the endangered wolf center opened its doors in 1971 when american zoologist marlin perkins and his wife, carol, set out to address the endangerment of several species of wolves.

virginia busch, executive director of the endangered wolf center, said wolves were a favorite animal of perkins, the longtime host of tv’s “wild kingdom,” who died in 1986.

“we’re really proud that marlin, even before the endangered species act, had the forethought to build such an institution,” she said.

at the time of the center’s opening, the only captive mexican wolves were being held at the arizona-sonora desert museum in tucson. the only remaining captive female, nina, was transferred to missouri after failing to breed with any of the males.

in 1981, nina mated with one of the last wild-caught wolves and gave birth to the first wolf pups conceived in captivity, according to the center.

“our goal at the endangered wolf center as well as through the species survival plan programs is to continue to breed those animals and have a healthy population,” busch said. “for mexican wolves, we are doing just that.”

as of 2020, mexican wolf pups have been cross-fostered from centers across the country, including the wolf conservation center in new york and the sedgwick county zoo in wichita, kansas.

where the program is now
biologists in arizona and new mexico put boots on the ground to study wild mexican wolves that live on both sides of the state line.

nearly 1,250 miles west of the endangered wolf center, the apache national forest in eastern arizona is home to most of the wild mexican wolves in the country.

in late january and early february, officials and biologists from arizona game & fish in alpine capture and examine wild mexican wolves to gain more of an understanding of the current population and the progress of the cross-fostering program.

game & fish monitors 31 wolf packs by helicopter and tracking collars. this allows biologists to track the growth, location and progression of current packs while noting the creation of new packs.

“since 2009, we’ve had an average annual increase of about 12%,” said paul greer, mexican wolf interagency field team leader for game & fish. “the population has been cyclical up and down, but overall it’s an increasing population.”

wolf biologists also have identified successes beyond the numbers. for example, biologists are seeing improvement of survival skills in cross-fostered wolves that they did not see in adult wolves that were released from captivity.

“so far, (cross-fostering) has been a better alternative to the release of adult wolves from captivity into the wild,” fuller said. “we’re seeing a lot more wolves that understand how to be a wolf in this landscape because they were raised by wild parents.”

although the cross-fostering efforts toward growing the mexican wolf population have seen success, some critics of the program believe the process could be accelerated.

sandy bahr, director of the sierra club’s grand canyon chapter, agreed cross-fostering has improved the mexican wolf’s chances for survival, but she believes the introduction of captive adult wolves should resume.

“it (cross-fostering) can only be done on a pretty limited basis, because you have to have pups of the right age in the wild and in captivity,” bahr said. “i agree that like a lone wolf might not be the best way to do it. that’s why we’ve really advocated for bonded packs. they’re much more likely to stay together. they can hunt together.”

bahr said cross-fostering, in tandem with the release of adult wolves in packs, would increase the population more quickly than releasing adult wolves only.

“what (the sierra club) has said is release bonded packs, you know, release an alpha male and an alpha female,” bahr said. “they’re much more likely to stay together, work together and survive versus what we’ve seen like with a lone wolf.”

emily renn, executive director of the grand canyon wolf recovery plan, advocates for releasing adult wolves because they can add to the evolving genetic pool in a more immediate way.

“one of the things with the cross-fostered pups is it’s going to take at least two years before those wolves become adults and potentially become breeding wolves,” renn said. “obviously, it (releasing adult wolves) still needs a lot of consideration into how it’s done, but we want to see that included as an option.”

progress so far
although the recovery program has a long way to go before the biologist will call it a success, progress has been made by the steady increase in the mexican wolf population.

since the cross-fostering program began six years ago, arizona game & fish has had success on multiple fronts.

in may, the field team conducted cross-fostering over six weeks, releasing 20 wolf pups in eastern arizona and western new mexico. in 2019, the team cross-fostered 12 wolf pups across western arizona.

“it was a lucky year (2020),” said jim devos, game & fish assistant wildlife director. “it also took a tremendous amount of effort.”

according to the mexican recovery wolf program, about 50% of cross-fostered pups survive to reach prime breeding age.

the 2019 end-of-year census done by game & fish recorded the population of mexican wolves had increased to 163 from 131. the department’s u.s. southwest population goal is 320 wolves. the recovery plan also has set a goal for increasing the wolf population in mexico to 200.

“of the 12 wolves we released (in 2019), we’ve got four that have survived to breeding age and have already produced multiple litters of their own,” greer said. “we’re seeing cross-fostered wolves surviving, breeding and producing multiple litters.”

even with the success of the past few years, those close to mexican wolf recovery programs aren’t quite satisfied.

“it’ll be nice one day if we can get the genetics up to where they need to be to be able to step back and let wolves be wolves,” dwire said.

at what cost?
saving an entire species is not something that can be done for free, but with funding from the government and generous donations, it is possible.

preserving an endangered species takes money.

in 2018, expenses ran about $1.5 million at the nonprofit endangered wolf center, which is funded mostly through donations. to support its work, donors can pay to “adopt” a single wolf or an entire pack for a month or a year. the center also participates in classroom outreach, where biologists discuss how wild wolves survive and what can be done to save them from extinction. schools and after-school programs are charged $150 to $350 per session.

as for game & fish, the department puts about 7% of its budget into wildlife conservation, according to its 2018 budget breakdown.

the mexican wolf program also receives funding from the department’s heritage fund, which provides $10 million each year from arizona lottery proceeds.

is it worth it?
there are more than 1,300 endangered species in the united states alone – what makes the mexican wolf special?

more than 1,300 species in the u.s. are endangered or threatened and could use human help to avoid extinction. with so many plants and animals facing potential extinction, why save mexican wolves specifically?

in fact, mexican wolves have posed a threat to ranchers and livestock since europeans first settled the southwest. as the wolf population has edged up each year, so have ranchers’ anxieties.

however, mossotti said, the mexican wolf may play a bigger factor in the environment than seen at first glance. it’s classified as an “umbrella” species, she said, meaning the wolves affect a good portion of the ecosystem just by going about their business.

mossotti compared the effect that the recovery of mexican wolves has on the environment to a similar project the endangered wolf center was a part of at yellowstone national park.

after scientists found no evidence of wolves in yellowstone national park for decades, the u.s. fish and wildlife service began a wolf reintroduction program in 1995.

“when we released wolves in yellowstone,” mossotti said, “they had been extinct in the park for decades, and the park changed without them there. elk population skyrocketed, deer population skyrocketed and they ate everything. they ate all the plants down to the dirt. when trees would fall, no new trees would replace them. those trees and shrubs … provided habitat for birds and butterflies and lots of animals.”

mossotti said the reintroduction of wolves to the park brought the elk and deer populations down to sustainable levels and allowed the plants to recover enough to provide for other animals that were suffering without them.

“to put all this energy into the wolf is ultimately to help make sure the ecosystem is healthier for everybody,” mossotti said.

—

this story originally was published on cronkite news and features additional audio reports. for more stories, visit cronkitenews.azpbs.org.

inside the building, in tanks stacked ceiling-high, the mosaic’s real-life counterpart peers through glass, hiding behind plastic sea grass. aside from the size difference (these salamanders are just three inches long as adults), the striking patterns of the mosaic aren’t far off. their translucent skin is spotted sometimes with yellow and opal; other times with orange, or purple, or magenta. in the right light, their tiny hearts beat through luminous skin. pink gills protrude from their necks like an old-fashioned ruff. looking at their gills through a microscope, one can see red blood cells absorbing dissolved oxygen. close observation is crucial, each scientist knows, for when the tank water’s chemical balance is just slightly off — too much or too little calcium or dissolved carbon dioxide or heat — the salamander may expand, balloon-like, or develop other strange health problems. in response, an irrigation system sends well-fresh spring water to each tank, drip by drip.

“i find them very fascinating animals,” said dee ann chamberlain, an environmental scientist with the city of austin and the steward of this captive population. “they’re small. they’re beautiful when you see them up close.” 

years ago, chamberlain spent 12 hours watching a female salamander lay her eggs, which are stored in her abdomen. that day, the salamander lay each egg with great care, choosing each location separately before placing her eggs in the safety of the plastic plants, netting, and filter media. once laid, the eggs take three to four weeks to mature. looking closely, one can see the white orb morph into a white squiggle, then into something that resembled the tiniest salamander — just half a centimeter in length at hatching. when i visited the captive breeding facility, i saw salamanders so slim they could have been a splinter, and so short they could easily be squashed. 

this pampered population exists as a backup, ready to sire offspring that would be released if the wild population were to die off — a wild population that exists just a few hundred meters but also a world away from the captive species — where water emanates, myth-like, from deep within the earth. but, some say, even if that population were to be released, it may not be enough to save the species. 

***

the barton springs salamander is endemic to the cool, isothermal waters of barton springs pool — a three-acre, one-eighth-mile swimming-hole and terminus of the vast edwards aquifer of central texas — one of the largest artesian aquifers in the world. barton springs natural haven for austinites — home to ancient religious rituals, ardent scientific inquiry, and polar plunges alike — and is lauded as the city’s ‘crowned jewel.’ the barton springs salamander was discovered in the late 1980’s by david hillis, a professor at the university of texas at austin. soon after describing the species, hillis’ team discovered that the species was most likely critically endangered from the effects of development, poor water quality, and the aggressive cleaning methods used on barton springs pool. if added to the endangered species list, the barton springs salamander would receive special protections from the government to help species recovery.

the barton spring salamander was filed for the official endangered species listing in 1990. seven years later, after many legal battles, political faux pas, and scientific surveys, the salamander joined the endangered species list. developers and politicians feared the endangered species listing of a creature whose habitat happened to be in the heart of austin would stifle development. austin did craft a stricter watershed protection ordinance, but instead of hindering economic growth, austin became an even bigger boomtown. in austin’s southwest suburbs, construction rumbles over the aquifer’s fragile recharge zone. and the wild population of salamanders, sensitive to the slightest change in their habitat, continues to stare extinction in the face. 

in 1998 — one year after the barton springs salamander (or eurycea sosorum) got its endangered species listing — the captive breeding program began. the captive facility of barton springs salamanders (and the endangered austin blind salamander) exists as a backup population, in an effort by the city of austin to conserve the species. “in case there’s an issue with wild populations, you can put them back — noah’s ark,” said andy glusenkamp, the director of conservation and research at san antonio zoo and a member of the barton springs salamander scientific advisory committee. the population’s technical name is a “captive assurance colony,” which means that it must represent 85% to 95% of the wild genetics. this effort requires meticulous tracking of which salamander breeds, and when. dante fenolio, vice president of the center of conservation and research at san antonio zoo said it took him ten years just to figure out how to breed one species on command. “the answers to these things,” fenolio said, “they’re not intuitive. and they’re not easy.”

one of the reasons the questions are so hard to answer is that there’s a significant knowledge gap when it comes to salamanders. “salamanders overall are not well studied,” said chamberlain. “we’ve had to learn a lot in order to maintain them.” and after decades of close observation, chamberlain remains in awe of these creatures. “salamanders have amazing abilities,” chamberlain added. “they can regenerate more organs than any other vertebrate on the planet.” talking to chamberlain, it seems that the body of unanswered questions about salamanders are as boundless as the edwards aquifer itself.

but perhaps the most salient question is, what would happen if the wild population disappeared? “despite decades of preparation,” wrote a journalist for austin monthly in 2018, “there’s just too many variables.” herpetologists have devised countless doomsday scenarios — each worse than the next. the oil pipelines that stretch across the area’s recharge zone could crack. a pathogen could infect the water table. a sewage line could bust. a drought could de-water the aquifer. the city of austin does have development regulations, but that doesn’t stop construction in the suburbs. local protections can’t halt the threats of climate change leading to bigger droughts, and the omnipresent threat of a chemical spill that could wipe out the species faster than biologists could save them. “to date,” glustenkamp said, “there’s no way to remove any of those threats once they appear.”

even if the aquifer were to become restored, the question remains, in the words of fenolio: “how do you put a salamander back into an aquifer?” fenolio knows of no successful reintroductions of salamanders to a groundwater system — nor of any attempts to reintroduce the species. chamberlain believes that it might take years of releasing salamanders and monitoring the population’s response before reintroduction is successful. glusenkamp is not so optimistic. “it’s very difficult to put a three-inch salamander back in the springs without it washing out,” he said. “do i think that we’re gonna be able to t-shirt cannon salamanders back to their habitat and we’re gonna restore species after extinction events? no.”

if the wild salamanders were to be wiped out, the captive salamanders would not be alone on the metaphorical ark. they would join the ranks of other species with the distinct red class listing of “extinct in the wild,” or ew — from the sky-blue spix’s macaw to the regal south china tiger to the acid-yellow panamanian golden frog — species that don’t exist in the wild anymore, but instead live a captive half-life. this is the “very core of one of the key and critical problems with conservation biology,” fenolio said. “what do you call it when you have a species in captivity… their habitat is gone in the wild, (and) you can’t put them back anywhere? is it conservation anymore, or is it curation?”

this beckons the question: should we reintroduce the species, if it goes extinct? if the aquifer remains polluted, should humans step in and try to salvage it? fenolio suggested that one may be able to inject medical-grade de-activated carbon into the water which tends to bond and sequester contaminants, but that may not be effective, and may do more harm than good. in that case, does one play god and find a new home for the species, risking the introduction of a new pathogen, or of another australian cane toad catastrophe? do we leave the salamanders in captivity for perhaps hundreds of years until a “a “biblical flood,” as glusenkamp puts it, refills the aquifer with clean water? this brings to mind john mcphee’s remark in his book, “the control of nature” (and echoed by elizabeth kolbert in “under a white sky”) on how the rerouting of the mississippi in the eisenhower era “will come to mind more or less in echo of any struggle against natural forces — heroic or venal, rash or well-advised — when human beings conscript themselves to fight against the earth.” would injecting de-activated carbon, and t-shirt-cannoning captive raised species into this fragile environment be a trespass over our role as humans, “to surround the base of mount olympus demanding and expecting the surrender of gods?” or is it our unique duty to do just that?

“i think everybody involved in this would agree, (reintroduction) is the last tool you want to use,” glustenkamp said. “absolutely the last tool. and it’s incumbent on all of us to do everything we can to avoid using that tool, by taking other actions.” thankfully, there are many who continue to steward the aquifer and its inhabitants. documentary filmmakers educate the public about the beauty and fragility of barton springs. the lawyers at the save our springs alliance hold local governments and developers accountable to clean water regulations. and the scientists at the city of austin who work to monitor wild populations and restore degraded habitat — those who grapple necessary truth that one day the wild salamanders may be gone — who cradle their black-spotted heads and watch oxygen diffuse through their gills — may be the species’ fiercest advocates. “last time i checked, two-inch long blind salamanders made of jelly aren’t very good boxers,” glustenkamp said. but austin’s scientists have their gloves on, ready to go to the mat on this one. 

as we begin ascending a back-road on peekamoose mountain, i notice the habitat changing. new york’s lowlands mostly consist of oak-hickory forest. at higher elevations, the oaks and hickories are replaced by sweet and gray birch, mountain ash, hemlock, and other north-woods species. in these high-elevation forests resides a creature so rare that even hunters and devout naturalists may go their whole lives without seeing it. it is an animal that is as adept in the trees as it is on the ground, and is the only mammal species that regularly preys on porcupines. it is a creature of the night, terrorizing caged chickens on the rare occasions that it ventures into human-habitation. this is a species feared by every caged and domestic animal in the country north of tennessee. this is the fisher (martes pennanti).

we finally arrive at the peekamoose mountain trailhead with about an hour of light left to spare. the woodland here looks impenetrable and full of shadows, as it usually does after 6 p.m. nighttime comes quickly this high up on the mountain. a few hundred feet below, the shrub-land in the valley is set ablaze by the day’s last rays of sun, and i feel as though i am caught between two hemispheres. the deep, monosyllabic “whoot” of a long-eared owl reverberates through the ancient, unlogged spruces lining the mountain. a white-footed mouse, apparently flushed out of hiding, scurries over my boot and darts into the protection of a hole at the base of an old beech tree.

i follow an old deer path that veers off from the well-groomed, summit trail about a hundred feet into the woods. after about five minutes of walking, i arrive in a clearing. there are impressions in the ground here, called “beds,” where white-tailed deer and wild turkey clump together on the ground to rest. upon closer investigation, there is an entire array of animal tracks on the muddy ground below. i notice the tracks of the red fox, which are easily identified by the presence of four toes, a deep heel-impression, and visible claws in the prints. old, 19th century stone walls snake through these woods like highways, and animals use these as corridors to travel through their large territories with ease. i decide that this is a good place to post up for the last 45 minutes of daylight in my quest to find the elusive fisher.

my technique for observing uncommon or sought-after animal species is relatively simple, and it involves me staying completely still for hours on end. nocturnal animals like the fisher (my target animal) or the gray fox have an exceedingly good sense of hearing, and are very sensitive to any foreign sounds in their environment. the fisher is usually only seen momentarily or by accident, and is most commonly observed darting across dirt roads at night. the fisher is a member of the weasel family (mustelids), and is a relative of the otter, ermine, stoat, wolverine, and honey-badger.

this large weasel is adorned with a chocolate-brown pelt of intensely soft fur, and the market value of a fisher coat is mind-bogglingly expensive. in fact, my mother lovingly refers to these animals as “coats.” this weasel is found in the boreal and old-growth forests of canada, alaska, and the northern states, and was successfully reintroduced into the catskills in the 1990s.

in new york, the fisher is found in extensive old-growth forests, the favored habitat of its prey, the common porcupine. the fisher typically chases a porcupine up a tall tree, then swats at it with its paws until the porcupine falls to the ground disoriented. the fisher then flips the porcupine on its back, and eats its exposed, quill-less belly. here on peekamoose mountain, i see signs of porcupine everywhere: their scat looks like tiny sausage links, and their tracks look like tiny human footprints with visible claws. looking around i notice a number of trees missing chunks of their bark. this makes me happy, as i know that porcupines eat the cambium of trees, or the inner tissue of the bark, and where porcupine abound, so does the fisher…

i take a seat next to an old beech tree on the rock wall and wait. i have about 40 or so minutes of daylight left. this is my favorite time of day, the crepuscular time, or what my parents eerily refer to as the “gloaming.” this is the best time to observe animals in the forest, as the nocturnal species are just beginning to come out of their prospective holes and burrows. the long-eared owl i heard earlier has now been joined by two other owls, likely territorial males, and their ‘hoots’ reverberate through the mountain woods. what was a quiet patch of woods a mere hour ago has now become a booming epicenter of animal activity. deer mice scuttle over my timberlands and into the protection of the rock wall. the moon is full and a cavalry of coyotes howls in unison. they don’t seem very far away, maybe a couple miles at most. the woods become more alive with each passing second.

i estimate that i have about 25 minutes of light left before it’s time to pack up and go. right as i begin to lose hope, i notice the snake-like figure of a good-sized mammal leaping down from the trunk of an old spruce. my eyes widen as i am inundated by the almost-manic energy of unadulterated excitement. the animal i am observing is perhaps one hundred feet away from me, but its long, thin body and black pelt immediately give away its identity. no other animal in these parts looks anything like the creature in front of me, as the fisher is perhaps one of the most distinctive mammals in our northern forests.

the animal approaches, traversing the rock wall, and i hold my breath as so not to make any unconscious movements that could scare it away. it seems completely oblivious to my presence, or rather, it knows that i am there, but could truly care less. the fisher is now a mere 15 feet away from me, and its movements suggest that it is looking for food. it then jumps down from the rock wall, allowing me to observe its foraging behavior as it explores every crevice, hole, and fallen log within its territorial radius. the fisher then gets uncomfortably close to my person, and seems to be intrigued by the logo of the tree on my timberlands. this makes me slightly nervous, as i did not expect to have such a close encounter with a german shepard-sized weasel foraging only a hand-full of feet away from me. the fisher catches my gaze and we both pause. its eyes are pitch black, like seal’s eyes, and it cocks its head at me like an inquisitive dog, before bounding off into the thickets. what a close one…

the members of the mustelid family have a reputation for being some of the most aggressive and vicious animals on the planet, and this statement is at least half-true. my chicken coop is essentially raided weekly by fisher, mink, and a long-tailed weasel that has taken up residence in the woodpile adjacent to the coop. weasels have fast metabolisms and are always on the move, exploring every nook and cranny of their environment. when they hunt, weasels will kill as much prey as they possibly can and stash it in a cache, which is typically a hollow log, or the root system of a tree. on one particular occasion, a long-tailed weasel raided my chicken coop, killing 15 adult chickens, 10-plus chicks, and destroying all the eggs. it may be inappropriate for us to label weasels as “vicious,” as terms like this specifically refer to human trails, and man has a certain propensity to anthropomorphize animals. it is incontestable, however, that weasels are some of the most efficient hunters among all north american mammals. 

weasels are masters of staying out of sight. one winter day, i found myself on a ski lift in deer valley utah, which is about fifteen minutes away from park city, where the sundance film festival happens every year. that particular day was a whiteout, and i was about to catch some fresh powder on my favorite ski run, centennial. looking down, i noticed the movement of what i could only describe as, at the time, a “snow snake.” it took me a minute to realize that i had just seen an ermine or short-tailed weasel in its winter plumage. that was about five years ago, and i haven’t seen another ermine since. they are certainly not rare animals, but their small size allows for them to enter any crevice or burrow and stay out of sight. furthermore, the two weasels in the mustela family, the long-tailed and short-tailed weasels, turn white in the winter, and the black dots on the end of their tails and noses are the only things that give them away in deep snow.

weasels have always particularly interested me because of how resilient and adaptable they are. this family of animals has found a niche in almost every conceivable habitat available in the country: the river otter took to america’s mountain streams, rivers, and lakes. the fisher and the marten dominate our northern, boreal forests. the black-footed ferret inhabits the dry prairies of the midwest. while the two small mustela weasels took to the farms, pastures, and gardens of the lowlands. the fisher, my favorite mustelid, is currently experiencing a large population increase, as reintroductions in the catskills, vermont, and new hampshire have been very successful. in fact, the fisher can now be found, albeit sparingly, in princeton, new jersey. if you ever find yourself eloping in the institute woods, keep an eye out for the snake-like silhouette of my furry friend, the fisher.