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Animal Encounters

Summer 2012, first time in Woodland Caribou Park, we entered from Manitoba into Crystal Lake then down into Broken Arrow Lake, which apparently is a little used portion of the park. It was desolate, no other people, no sounds during the day, as if the entire wilderness was empty.

That first night, on the north end of BA, we went out fishing and to find/check out other camp site options. Cruising towards one, something walked out of the bush and along the front of the site in full view, it was a young caribou buck. We watched, he watched us, then he went left into the lake and we departed.

Next morning exploring south on the lake through what is pretty much a rock walled canyon for a km or so to the bottom portion of the lake. Rounding a turn we see something in the water swimming to the left bank... caribou cow and on the point across the little bay it was swimming too is another young male buck. Too cool. We go past that point and on the far shore is a mature Caribou buck, he just stands and watches as we continue to move down lake. We watch as he slowly moves up the bank, stopping to eat and not the least annoyed by our presence. We left him and kept exploring.

Wow, 4 caribou in less than a day, although the young buck from the previous night may have been the same we saw that day.

Later that same day, we headed out to fish some areas we had seen on the morning exploration. As we approached the channel section, we saw something swimming from point to point, heading east towards Manitoba. It wasn't a Caribou, Moose or Bear, it was low in the water and light coloured but didn't look like a deer. We kept powering towards it and I never though to reach behind me and get the camera out of the pelican. It stepped out of the water when we were 100 feet away, it stopped and looked directly at us... it was a Cougar! We kept paddling towards it and it sauntered off into the bush along the bank, it stopped again where it could see us approaching and we are only 50 feet away now. We moved all the way to the bank and I saw it once more before it loped away without a sound.

No pictures but the image is burned into my head of when it stood on the sloping rock shore staring directly at us. It still gives me chills reminiscing about that encounter, quite possibly a once in a lifetime event.
 
Great stories, guys.

Best of luck with the new pup OM.

Mine scariest encounter is pale in comparison.

I was solo base camping to be in the same spot for three nights and this was the first night. I hadn't seen anything to alert me while setting up camp so I was comfortable, and not alarmed or worried as I went to sleep.

I was startled awake around 02:00AM to the sound of nylon being scratched. I jerked up to a sitting position while still in my sleeping bag and at that point I was pretty sure I was in for a fight. As I sat up I realized the noise was coming from right above my head! As I looked up at the source of the noise I was able to make out the silhouette of some small rodent scurrying down off of the outside of the tent.

It was very funny and I had a difficult time falling asleep after the encounter. When you need it adrenaline is wonderful, its tough to process when you don't.
 
My best story is a true "The Far Side" moment. While paddling down the Moose River above Attean Falls, I came around a corner and encountered a (duh) moose swimming across the river. She was close to the bank as I was fumbling for my camera. She made it halfway up the bank when her legs slid right out from under her and she tumbled unceremoniously back into the river! I was laughing so hard I couldn't get my camera out and focus until she was back out of the river and up at the top of the bank.

-rs
 
I camp in a Clark hammock. I used to always leave it unzipped when around camp. Once I happened to be looking when a red squirrell jumped into it and stayed there. I can only inagine grtting into it with him already there! Now i always zip-immediatly!
Turtle
 
From a worm to a mouse to a mountain lion. These are good stories.

The wolves story is exceptional. The moose encounters got my attention. In the 50s when I was a kid I knew a family from E Millinocket, ME(I grew up on the N Shore of MA) who tipped me that moose were tricky. Now my little sister tells me that she sees them at night along the roads in southern NH. The world has changed.

Here in WV we are in the first week of rifle season for deer. Some of yesterday's conversations inspire me to short deer stories.

CUTE

In late summer bucks often form small bachelor herds that last into mid fall and dissolve as the rut heats up. Coming off the Potomac River in Montgomery Co., MD I stopped for a blow in the bottom woods and watched a handsome 12 point march close by, head down and oblivious - obviously trailing a doe. Following at a respectful distance and in a tight file were an 8, a 6 and a fork. Bringing up the rear came a spike barely bigger than a button. I'm not sure that one knew what the parade was all about.


INSTRUCTIVE

On the morning before a blizzard arrived, I decided to walk the 5 miles thru the woods to town instead of driving. An earlier storm had left 6''. The day was somber. On the way back in the afternoon I crossed a deer's trail in an unexpected place. The snow was falling in earnest and the woods getting dark despite the snow cover. But I could not resist following a deer that took such LONG steps. And in the manner that old bucks sometimes have, this one plowed on in more or less a bee-line. This was past the rut - no doe trailing here.

Down into a deep creek bottom we went. On a big bench stood a massive tangle of blown pines, and into that cover the trail obviously was headed. My bet was that the boy would sit out the storm there.

I circled wide. No trail led out.

I circled tight. At 2/3 way around and 20' from the edge of the mess, I got startled by an explosion of snow and pine branches that erupted beneath a leaner. Just a glimpse was all I got of the buck rising butt first, its small rack and enormous body. I recognized this buck.

It was gone instantly, back through the pines.

After 15 minutes I walked around to the far side of the blowdowns, picked up the trail and started trudging in the deepening snow.

The trail headed up out of the bottom and then bee-lined up the very long and gentle slope down which it had come earlier in the day. The route was different.

What was unusual was that this deer, not at all pushed, had loped for fully a half mile before slowing to a fast trot. I guess that says something about how to get to be an old deer.
 
Summer 2012, first time in Woodland Caribou Park, we entered from Manitoba into Crystal Lake then down into Broken Arrow Lake, which apparently is a little used portion of the park. It was desolate, no other people, no sounds during the day, as if the entire wilderness was empty.

Next morning exploring south on the lake through what is pretty much a rock walled canyon for a km or so to the bottom portion of the lake. Rounding a turn we see something in the water swimming to the left bank... caribou cow and on the point across the little bay it was swimming too is another young male buck. Too cool. We go past that point and on the far shore is a mature Caribou buck, he just stands and watches as we continue to move down lake. We watch as he slowly moves up the bank, stopping to eat and not the least annoyed by our presence. We left him and kept exploring.

Wow, 4 caribou in less than a day, although the young buck from the previous night may have been the same we saw that day.

Later that same day, we headed out to fish some areas we had seen on the morning exploration. As we approached the channel section, we saw something swimming from point to point, heading east towards Manitoba. It wasn't a Caribou, Moose or Bear, it was low in the water and light coloured but didn't look like a deer. We kept powering towards it and I never though to reach behind me and get the camera out of the pelican. It stepped out of the water when we were 100 feet away, it stopped and looked directly at us... it was a Cougar! We kept paddling towards it and it sauntered off into the bush along the bank, it stopped again where it could see us approaching and we are only 50 feet away now. We moved all the way to the bank and I saw it once more before it loped away without a sound.

No pictures but the image is burned into my head of when it stood on the sloping rock shore staring directly at us. It still gives me chills reminiscing about that encounter, quite possibly a once in a lifetime event.
Wow, I have spent a lot of time silently cruising that area and have never been so fortunate!!
 
Marten

We have been fortunate with our wildlife encounters over the past few years. We saw a Caribou on Aiken's Lake in 2010. A bear and moose on Obukowin Lake, as well as a wolf on Siderock Lake in 2011. The above mentioned caribou and cougar in 2012 and this year we had a wolf pack just down river in August. We generally see moose on every trip we take and in September this year had a Mink swim across to camp after dark.

We think the cougar may have been tracking the caribou and was headed back into Manitoba when we saw it.

Karin

PS I bought a DSLR to be rid of the "fuzzy moose pictures", but now I may never see anything else. ;)
 
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Manatee are not the cute and cuddly animals they would like you to think. They are the only wild animal that has actually attacked my canoe. If you are in there way or or they are wanting to play they will tip you over.

Rob collies are the best. My smooth collie will not sit still for a whole day of canoeing. My boarder collie has an off switch as will sit still long enough. Collies are high energy beast and are very trainable.
 
This talk about Manatees got me to thinking. Where I live, San Juan Islands Washington, we have these Orcas who share their watery home with bunches of Kayakers. Just a little study of the creature tells you he's got all he needs to gobble up the paddlers, no problem. Yet despite some really obnoxious behavior on the humans part it never has happened. Not once, at all, ever.
Now you'd think that just once in a while some teenage Orca would goad his buddy to just try one, to see what they taste like; but it never happens.

Without knowing what I'm talking about, I'd suggest that such a total "ban" on aggression towards humans (even playful actions) must have some purposeful origin.
But that's as far as I can think 'cause I've run out of any knowledge, but I'm still left wondering: how did it come about?


Little Rowan is my first Collie, before her were labs and GSD's I doubt I would have looked at the breed if my wife hadn't got her Shelty. He's such a grand little dog it got me to thinking in a new direction. My Rose (GSD) with her failing back end is very hard to carry or lift at 96 pounds. And she loves the water, it might sound fine but a big wet dog in the tent I don't much care for. We'll see what Rowan's opinion of water is; the Shelty hates it.

Best Wishes,

Rob
 
On a solo hiking trip in the ADK last year I saw two Barred Owls fight in mid-air. That is probably the coolest thing I have seen so far.
 
Our youngest daughter returned from a Uni class trip to Churchill Man., where they paddled with pods of Belugas. She described how some whales were naturally cautious of the kayaks, but others were curious. One brazen Beluga would follow along behind a chosen paddler, and then nudge the craft, as if to say “Faster!” Our daughter H assured me everyone was respectful of these creatures. Her most treasured moment came when a mother and calf swam next to H, and rolled onto their sides for a better view.
 
I know it’s not a scientific view, to think of some members of the animal kingdom as cute, but I can’t help it. The cuteness can wear off pretty quickly though. Nighttime raccoon raids led me to change our food system from an Army duffle (they can unbutton AND unzip stuff) to a barrel. Since those early days, I keep a tight lid on our food (no pun intended.) On our first family canoe trip though, I wanted to exhibit the wonders and cuteness of the amiable Canada Jay to our kids. Sure enough, at our first campsite, Mr. & Mrs. Jay visited and accepted pancake portions from our hands. After that however, it became a race to see who could finish our breakfast first, the Jays or us. Off our plates, out of the fry pan, and even straight from our upraised forks, the race was on. We called it a draw.
Meeting up with hummingbirds, owls, wolves, caribou, and cougars would be absolutely awesome. Sometimes scary, but always awesome.
 
Cousin Pete's 11/22/13 Canadian trip report, "Solo 12 Night Algonquin Trip in Sept/Oct", drew a comment from Sturgeon. Among other things S said that he was leaning more toward "base camp" tripping in the future. All the better to spend less time making and breaking camp, and presumably, less time hustling along in the middle of a river or cutting bays in order to get to the next good campsite.

Sturgeon said that he wanted to spend more time exploring specific places.

That comment and the talk here about wildlife experiences are related. By analogy I might say that it's hard to get to know the local culture while cruising along the Interstate.

Directly I say that in my experience big and medium size rivers and lakes and their shores are comparative wildlife deserts compared to the communities found along the small tributary streams, back channels, sloughs and ponds and swamps. Besides, paddling along way out in the open is not the best way to make wildlife friends.

Getting to know a few places and even a few individual animals is what it's all about. Then curtains begin to rise.

The picture is of my boat relaxing at home. I like that little back channel. Go there often. Mostly I hug right up against the bank, sitting more than paddling; holding on against the current by branches and roots and staying in the shadows. My Super Nova is very good at this.

On the way back down I sit on the bottom, lean against the seat and drift with the current, steering one-handed with a kid's beach shovel and staying right on the bank. But again, more of the time I'm stationary, not moving.

During the last drift down, the resident pair of of otters were working upstream with their 2 pups. They dove and surfaced, tread water, chewed vigorously and then dove again. We passed at 30' in the low, late afternoon light. They were ok with the big green log floating by, but when they got a little upstream of me I got betrayed by the breeze. They snorted hard but held, not being able to ID the threat.

This approach is not for everyone. It's more about looking than paddling; more about finding out what goes where and when and why than trying to get somewhere yourself. But you get to see more animals, and you get to see more of the front end of them and a little less of the back end.


 
@ Mihun09

Broken Arrow Lake in WCPP is a hotspot for caribou. I've seen four caribou in the park, two in 2012 and two this year. Each year one of the sightings was on Broken Arrow Lake. The others were on Royd & Constellation Lake.
 
I did not share my most memorable animal encounter with my companions.

I was mist netting at a stock tank way back a 4WD road in Skeleton Canyon in SE Arizona with an ornithologist friend. The rancher who owned the land was with us as well; he was a fair field biologist in his own right, although he used the local colloquial names for a lot of stuff.

While the two of them were busy at the mist net I looked across the wash to see two Mexican grey wolves lope into view and disappear into a jumble of rocks.

When I first saw them I naturally started to say something, but before making a sound I realized that the rancher, whom I knew well, would shoot them on sight now or come back for them later in the standard SW rancher “shoot-shovel-shut your mouth” way.

I didn’t even tell my ornithologist pal ‘til a few years later.
 
Meeting up with hummingbirds, owls, wolves, caribou, and cougars would be absolutely awesome.

Living in LA, we get a huge influx of hummers twice a year on migration... one of the tragedies of hurricanes Rita and Katrina was that they occurred right in the middle of that migration (mostly Rita). Anyway, we feed them during their migration... about a quart a day out of 2 feeders, sometimes more. During the year, we keep a smaller feeder out, and one or two birds use it. They fight like crazy over it though. However, during the migration, when you have dozens of birds trying to feed, they become a bit more cooperative. I have been able to sit in a lawn chair, holding feeders in each hand, and have them sit on my fingers while they feed. Really cool. They are very intelligent little birds too. They will come to the front window and chirp at us when the back feeder is empty.
 
Mike M, your trip reports always catch my breath, but your description of grey wolves in the canyons leaves me breathless.
My own naïve-pained experience of wild sacrilege was when my wife and I happened upon a pickup truck of bounty wolves in Quebec. They’d been shot so near to our own rental farm; it felt like they’d been gunned down in our kitchen. I had to temper my reaction as I petted the stiff elegant corpses laid out in the back of the truck bed. The local farmers regarded them as vermin, while I kept my mouth shut. Looking down on those beautiful bodies was the most painful thing I’ve ever done. It was all I could do, to summon my strength to say, “Bien, c’est un bon job.” (Good job)
With those words I became a local, but I felt a million miles from anywhere. I still feel a long way from anywhere most days, and am still trying to find my way. What a f*cked up world we live in! Some days, wilderness has nothing to do with wilderness, but with everything to do with what we do with it.
Do you know what I mean?
I once had a tourist say to me “Isn’t this beautiful?”
I knew what was beautiful to me, but had no idea what he was talking about. We were both looking at the same lake, dock, and landscape; but did he realize it was all such a fragile thing? This ain't a f*cking postcard, it's our necklace of pearls. When it's broken, it's gone forever.
You can keep stringing them pearls, but it ain't ever gonna be the same. Each pearl is precious, string 'em with care.
 
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Hey Seeker;
I’ve had hummers in my yard on and off over the years, but when they’ve been around, the summers have been precious.
I have native plants to attract hummers and butterflies to my yard, for the environment and for my own selfish enjoyment.
For a few years, I was a birder, and always found it easier to find birds in their own environments, rather than “looking” for them. I’d bicycle along a path that ran through varied ecosystems of meadows and streams, forests and fields, and “voila”, any number of species would greet me throughout the day! Knowing their calls was as important as their visual signs. Our kids would laugh at me when I’d play bird audiotapes on my car radio, rather than music. Hey! I needed to study birdcalls for my weekend walks. I envy your spot, smack dab in the middle of their flight path between here and Latin America.
This is one long tenuous line of North American biological future, connecting me to you Seeker! I promise to never let go!
Thanks for holding the line from your end.
Brad
 
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