Yellowstone Standoff (3 page)

4

T
hose are some fiery scientists you've got working for you.” Chuck sat across from Lex at one of the long tables in the bustling staff cafeteria. The segment of sky visible through the front window was a glowing rectangle of pre-dawn magenta. Janelle and the girls were still in bed, but the cavernous room was filled with uniformed rangers getting ready for their shifts, and with many of the researchers who'd attended last night's meeting.

Lex held up his white paper napkin like a bullfighter's cape, fending off Chuck's comment. “Just one, really. And there are extenuating circumstances involved. Besides, the scientists don't work for me. If they work for anybody, they work for Martha—or, more specifically, for themselves. You saw as much last night. They're focused on their personal research projects, as they should be, and on how the park's decisions will affect their studies and dissertations. They're a pretty hard-charging bunch of kids. All of them have been studying their butts off since kindergarten, making perfect grades every semester, getting their papers published in the most prestigious journals, attending the best grad schools. They're top-notch young scientists, and, what you witnessed last night between Sarah and Toby notwithstanding, they get along well together. They support one another, go out of their way to help each other out.”

“They definitely were unified in their dislike of sharing a camp this summer.”

Lex wiped his mouth and set his napkin next to his plate of bacon and eggs. “Like I told them, they're lucky to be going into the backcountry at all this summer.”

“It
has
been two years, though.”

“One year and eight months, to be exact.”

“A long time—” Chuck hesitated “—even as bad as it was.”

Lex pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Do tell.”

“I saw the video last night,” Chuck admitted. “Martha forwarded it to one of the Grizzly Initiative rookies. He showed it to me on his phone.”

“Then you know there's lots of room for debate about what happened.”

“It looked fairly straightforward to me. The grizzly acted like a grizzly would be expected to act when the wolfies didn't announce their approach.”

“What do you mean? The two of them were talking and laughing. They were making their presence known.”

“They weren't yelling out to let anything and everything know of their presence, even though they knew they were approaching a kill site. Everything I read over the winter told me grizzlies have to be shown who's boss. The wolf researchers didn't do that. They were thinking gray wolves when they should have been thinking brown bears, and they paid the ultimate price for their mistake.”

“You're really suggesting the attack was their fault?”

“We both know I wouldn't be headed into the backcountry with my wife and kids if I thought otherwise, nor would you be letting me take them. I've come to the same conclusion I suspect you and all your grizzly experts have. What happened to the Territory Team was avoidable, preventable. Seeing the video last night reinforced that conclusion in my mind.”

“What that bear did was
not
normal behavior,” Lex said, his voice flat. “It went out of its way to attack.”

“It was sleeping,” Chuck countered. “It woke up startled. It went with its first and most basic instinct.”

Lex bent forward, dropping his chin so the fluorescent ceiling lights shadowed his face. “Surprise leading to attack is instinctive grizzly behavior, yes,” he said. He lowered his voice. “But the attack of the Territory Team had elements that weren't so common. Quite uncommon, in fact.”

Chuck leaned forward. “Such as?”

“There isn't anything that can be put in writing. But there is enough circumstantial evidence to raise doubts. The distance to the attack, for one thing. You watched the video; you saw how far the bear ran when it charged—all the way across the meadow. Generally, grizzly attacks involve bears that have been surprised in close quarters, in deep brush or dense forest. They lash out defensively, then retreat. In the case of the Territory Team, the logical assumption is that the grizzly was defending its food source—the carcass it had commandeered from the wolves. That much fits. But the distance it charged was entirely out of the ordinary.”

Lex rested his forearms on the edge of the table. “Then there's the fact that the bear somehow overcame the team members' pepper spray. Was the grizzly immune to it? That's a scary thought. But without video evidence, all we have is conjecture.”

He let a beat pass. “The attack resulted in multiple fatalities, lending even more weight to the theory that it was a predatory attack as opposed to defensive. That, again, is highly unusual, and raises any number of questions about the bear itself, as well as how park scientists should conduct themselves in the backcountry until those questions are answered.” Lex's face hardened. “All of that explains why we kept the science teams out of the backcountry last year, and why this year, still with no answers, they're lucky to be going into the backcountry at all. The universities and foundations that fund research in the park have been all over me, wanting me to let their people head
off into the woods on their own again. Even so, the decision to allow the teams to head to Turret Cabin as a group is a significant compromise.”

Chuck gripped the edge of the table with both hands. Lex's response several months ago to his request to have Janelle and the girls join him at Turret Cabin had been unreservedly affirmative. “Yet you
are
sending a group of scientists into the backcountry this summer. And you okayed my family going in with me, too.”

“The key word is ‘group.' Essentially, we're forming a small city at Turret. Everyone will go out from there to conduct their research in teams of three or more, just as we recommend to anyone headed away from populated areas of the park. The idea is that they'll be just as safe as if they were based here at Canyon for the summer, or at Lake or Old Faithful.”

“Just as safe,” Chuck repeated warily.

“Look,” Lex said, turning his palms up. “I know you've worked contracts over the years at lots of national parks across the West. But I also know this is the first time you've ever worked at Yellowstone. You have to understand, Yellowstone National Park is different from every other park in the country—in the world, for that matter—in the way it mixes huge numbers of people with predatory animals. That's something we deal with every single day. Yellowstone is like the Serengeti: predators prowl here. They hunt, they kill, they eat. It's the real deal.”

Chuck inclined his head in agreement. “Sure. Along with the geysers, that's what draws the crowds.”

“But unlike the Serengeti,” Lex continued, “Yellowstone's predators do what they do in the midst of more than three million human visitors each summer, with those numbers steadily increasing year after year.” He shrugged. “We can't exactly lock
the people—the public—out of their national park. They own it, after all. But the fact is, we're seeing mounting evidence that some of Yellowstone's animals are changing their behavior based on the growing number of human visitors to the park. There's the steady rise of bison attacks from too many people posing next to them for selfies. Plus, there's the escalating habituation of elk, which are growing increasingly comfortable even in the busiest places in Yellowstone—wandering across parking lots at Old Faithful, giving birth outside the front door of the Mammoth Hot Springs Post Office, tearing up the flower beds in the Lake Yellowstone Hotel courtyard.”

“Those are grazing animals you're talking about.”

“Not entirely. There's the behavior of gray wolves to consider, too. Before their extermination in the early 1900s, the last wolves in the park had learned to be extremely secretive—to stay out of sight, deep in the wilderness—in order to survive. Since their reintroduction, though, the wolves have made themselves comfortable everywhere within the park boundaries. Yes, they're in the backcountry. But they're equally comfortable in the front country, too, denning within sight of Northeast Entrance Road in Lamar Valley, taking down prey right alongside Grand Loop Road, a mile from Old Faithful Geyser with its tens of thousands of daily visitors. The wolves are doing so well that there's even talk they might be challenging grizzlies for supremacy at the top of the park's food chain.”

“And now,” Chuck said, “you're telling me you think the grizzly attack two years ago represented some new level of habituation by grizzlies as well.”

Lex looked to his right and left. Assured no one was listening, he lowered his voice even more. “I'm saying the attack
may
have represented that. The question we want to answer is whether this particular grizzly might have become so habituated, so
accustomed to the massive human presence in the park, that it came to see the Territory Team as prey.”

Chuck sat up straight. “What?”

Lex crooked a finger, beckoning Chuck closer to him. “What if the bear didn't attack because it was alarmed? What if it knew exactly where it was, and waited for the humans who would be coming to retrieve their camera? And what if, when those humans showed up, the grizzly went on the attack not because it was surprised, but just the opposite: because it recognized the members of the Territory Team as easy takings?”

5

C
huck gaped at Lex from across the cafeteria table. “That's one helluva leap—from increased habituation of animal species to the idea that the park's grizzlies are actually beginning to hunt humans.”

“Grizzly, not grizzlies. We're talking about one bear here, whose extreme behavior presents lots of questions. That's why we're still working so hard to locate it—bringing in the Canine Team, doing everything we can to track it down.”

“You've even given it a name.”

“Notch,” Lex confirmed. He made air quotes with his fingers. “The ‘killer grizzly.'”

“Doesn't the park service frown upon that kind of anthropomorphism?”

“We've made an exception in this case. Naming it, particularly by its defining feature, helps keep it in the public's mind. Our hope is, if someone spots it, they'll be more likely to recognize it and let us know.”

“But the attack was two summers ago. No one's seen the bear since.”

“Grizzlies live for a quarter century or more.”

One of the scientists Chuck recognized from last night approached carrying a tray of food. Lex waited until she was well past their table before he resumed speaking, again bending toward Chuck with his shoulders hunched.

“I can tell you this much: Turret Patrol Cabin wasn't chosen by chance. The entire Thorofare region around the cabin—the upper Yellowstone River valley and the Thorofare Creek drainage branching off to the southeast—is prime grizzly habitat.”

“Everybody knows that.”

“Yes, but everybody doesn't necessarily know the area has become increasingly prime over the last few years. I'm sure you've learned Yellowstone's grizzlies gorge on the nuts that fall from the whitebark pine trees each fall.”

Chuck nodded.

“And that the pine beetle population has exploded in the park in recent years as temperatures have increased with climate change and global warming. The beetles have munched through thousands of acres of whitebark pines across the Central Yellowstone Plateau, killing millions of trees.”

“So I understand.”

“The Thorofare region is the highest and coldest forested part of the park. The pine beetles haven't arrived there yet. As the beetles have wiped out the whitebark pine groves across the lower parts of the plateau, more and more grizzlies have shown up in the Thorofare to feed on the pine nuts still produced by the healthy trees there each autumn.”

“Are you actually telling me you sited the research camp in the heart of the Thorofare region specifically because of its high grizzly population?”

“Turret Cabin is not far, as the crow flies, from where the Territory Team was attacked in Lamar Valley, and of all the places hit by beetles so far, Lamar's one of the worst.”

“You're thinking Notch might head for the Thorofare on account of the pine nuts?”

“It's as good a guess as any.”

“But the nuts won't ripen and fall from the trees until late August.”

“The camp will be operational for ten weeks, through mid-September. Besides, the Thorofare region is a big draw for grizzlies throughout the summer, too. The open divides over
the Absarokas provide easy passage for the elk herds scattered across the central plateau inside the park, and for the herds in the headwater drainages of the Snake River south of the park. This time of year, with fresh, new grass sprouting everywhere in the high country, and with elk calf births by the thousands, grizzlies are on the move over the divides big time, grazing on the grass and munching any calves they can sink their teeth into.”

Chuck scrunched his face in bewilderment. “So you think this grizzly, Notch, might be a manhunter, and you've situated your research camp in the most likely place for the bear to show up?”

“The best outcome of all would be a safe sighting of Notch through the presence of lots of folks in a part of the park generally uninhabited by humans but well trafficked by grizzlies, then tracking down the bear from there.”

“Okay. Fine. I get it,” Chuck said. “But I still can't figure out why you gave the all-clear for me to bring my wife and kids.”

“Because of what I just said—the presence of lots of other people.”

Chuck closed one eye, frowning. “There's more going on here, isn't there?”

“How's that?”

“Jessie,” Chuck said, his voice gentle. “And your kids.”

Lex sat back, his eyes suddenly hooded. “What are you—?”

Chuck lifted a hand. “I'm sorry for your loss. You know how much I cared for her. I can only imagine how tough the last few months have been for you.”

Lex settled forward with a heavy sigh. “Sometimes, it's all I can do to pull on my uniform in the morning.”

“Carson and Lucy, how are they doing?”

“Oh, you know. They loved their mother as much as she loved them. And now, they miss her as much as I miss her. But they'll get through it. We'll get through it.”

“It'll be good for you, getting out of the office this week, won't it?”

“Just what the doctor ordered. Or, the psychiatrist.” Lex smiled wearily. “I'm twelve months from retirement. I don't know what I'm going to do when they shove me out the door next year. Jessie had all these plans for us—Alaska, Europe, time with the kids. I couldn't wait.” Tears welled in his eyes. “We had such a good life together.”

Lex blinked. A single tear trickled partway down his cheek. He brushed it away with a brusque stroke of his hand. “When Carson and Lucy were your kids' ages, Jessie and I got them out camping and hiking and backpacking every spare minute we had.” A wistful look stole across his face. “Those were the best years of my life.”

Chuck spoke carefully. “Do you think part of why you okayed my bringing my family into the backcountry had anything to do with how much you miss those years?”

Lex slowly nodded his head. “Maybe,” he admitted. “I can't say it didn't. But I stand by the fact that it'll be fine for them to be out there.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes. No question.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “There's no place on Earth more beautiful than the Thorofare region. Gene Rouse, one of the many seasonal rangers who have spent lots of time at Turret, brought his wife and kids in with him every summer, and I'm telling you, his kids loved every minute of it. There's no better place for a family to be together, Chuck. Years from now, when your girls are teenagers and they're busy hating your guts for not letting them stay out all night, they'll still be thanking you for taking them to the Thorofare.”

Chuck pushed eggs around his plate with a fork, his appetite gone, his thoughts on the Territory Team video. As a loner
with no close family connections, his life until two years ago had been free of complication. Ideas of risk vs. reward had played no role in the decisions he made to head into the backcountry.

The arrival of Janelle and the girls in his life had required him to change his thinking. All spring, as he and Janelle had hiked with Carmelita and Rosie to build their stamina in preparation for their Thorofare visit, he'd privately battled concerns about taking his new family to a place thick with grizzlies even as he'd openly shared his excitement for the upcoming trip.

“With the crowd we'll have at the cabin,” said Lex, “there's nothing to worry about.”

Chuck exhaled until he sat slumped in his seat. “Right,” he said. “Nothing to worry about at all.”