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From the Field: A Foot Away from a Wolf at a Den

By Tom Gable

'From the field' articles chronicle the adventures, difficulties, and hard-earned insights that come with doing fieldwork in the remote and wild Northwoods. 

In late April, I hiked into the den of the Biondich Pack with other project researchers, Austin Homkes and Sophie Heny. I was in the front and both Austin and Sophie were closely behind me. As we approached the den area, we picked up the pace hoping to find the den quickly. 

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Walking into active wolf dens is always an exciting experience, a mix of suspense, intrigue, and fascination. This feeling is only amplified by the fact that most times we only know the general area dens are located. As such, we often have to search around a bit to locate the den and the pups. 

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Often this search entails looking under numerous overturned trees or peering into several cracks in large rock walls hoping that the pups are hunkered down there. Typically, dens are in densely-forested areas we have never set foot in before, and with each step it feels as though you might stumble upon the den.

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Wolf R5E, the subordinate male of the Biondich Pack. Check out his unique, almost "heart-shaped" facial markings! 

On this particular day, we knew the Biondich Pack den was somewhere around the shoreline of a beaver pond based on the locations from the GPS-collar on Wolf R5E, a subordinate male from the pack. We assumed the den was likely on the forested shoreline of the pond because the pond was full of water last fall.

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As we got closer to the pond, we realized the dam holding the pond in had failed over the winter and the pond had almost completely drained. The area was now an expansive open field of dirt and dried grass, though a small puddle of water remained in the middle of the pond and beavers appeared to still be occupying that area.

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The drained beaver pond that Tom, Austin, and Sophie stepped out into while searching for the den. Notice the old beaver lodge towards the left of the frame!

We continued to hike quickly through the balsam-covered pond edge until we were in the middle of the area where we thought, based on Wolf R5E’s locations, the den was. We saw abundant wolf sign here—scats and many large wolf beds in the mossy earth—but did not see pups or a den. 

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Austin continued to search the forest about 20 meters from the pond edge while Sophie and I stepped out into the drained pond to scan the now exposed shoreline of the pond for a den. Fairly quickly, I noticed an opening to a cavity in the shoreline about 10 meters away–the cavity was clearly an old beaver burrow that beavers had excavated a while back. 

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I thought that looked promising but was not entirely convinced that was the den so I figured I would continue scanning the shoreline. Sophie was about 10 feet behind. I hadn’t moved past the entrance for more than a second when I simultaneously heard some footsteps behind me and Sophie say “Tom!” excitedly. 

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A good look at the den entrance right around the end of a beaver feeding canal - this is where the breeding female bolted from!

I spun around and there, right behind me, was the breeding female of the Biondich Pack running full speed between Sophie and I. The female was so close that it literally was a foot in front of Sophie—Sophie could have easily touched the wolf. The female was at an all-out sprint and after she whizzed by us, we watched her for another 30 seconds as she ran across the open expanse of the drained pond.

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Sophie and I looked at each other incredulously, stunned by what had just occurred. Turns out, that cavity in the shoreline was indeed the den. The female, for whatever reason, had not detected us until we were right in front of the den. Instead of sticking in the den, she decided to bolt when she saw an opening—and that opening was the ten feet between Sophie and I.

We have visited dozens of dens over the past decade on our project and never observed something like this. Generally, we do not see any adults at dens, though sometimes it does occur. But in every other instance, the adult is off in the distance and we only see it for a brief moment.

Suffice it to say, we have never had an instance where the pups’ mother was still in the den when we approached. 

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We often get asked questions such as whether we are afraid going to active dens, how we “manage” the parents, or how we know when the parents aren’t at the den so we don’t get attacked. While such questions are understandable as many large predators would voraciously defend their young from people, wolves are different for some reason.

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​Indeed, this instance illustrates the fact that wolves are simply not a threat to people visiting dens. Clearly, this female could have attacked us if she wanted to but wolves’ natural instinct is to flee when humans visit dens, not attack. Why that is the case is a mystery!

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One pup from the Biondich Pack's litter during our visit and assessment.

After the female had run off, we quickly removed all 3 pups from the den. We sexed, weighed, and tagged them before putting them back in the den. The pups were 3 weeks old and weighed a little over 2 kilograms (4.4 pounds) already! 

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The female undoubtedly returned to the pups shortly after we left because within less than 24 hours, the pack had moved the pups to a nearby den a short distance away (the breeding female is the only one who moves pups it seems). 

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A Biondich pup making its way back towards the narrow den entrance.

Wolves relocating their pups after humans visit a den is typical. But because wolves frequently move their pups to dens for natural reasons, such movements have no impact on the pups themselves. In fact, the Biondich Pack has moved its pups to 3 different dens over the past month, meaning they have now used 5 different dens since the pups were born in mid-April. They moved the pups from the first den because of our visit but the 4 subsequent moves have all been for natural reasons.

 

Anyway, we will not forget the surreal experience at the Biondich den for some time, and we doubt we may ever have another experience quite like this.

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