From the Field: Chasing Ghosts in the Northwoods
By Alex Gross
'From the field' articles chronicle the adventures, difficulties, and hard-earned insights that come with doing fieldwork in the remote and wild Northwoods.
In my time with the Voyageurs Wolf Project, I have had the pleasure of traversing the many serene landscapes of the Greater Voyageurs Ecosystem (GVE). Within our 2,338 km² study area lies a snapshot of picturesque Northwoods beauty. The Kabetogama Peninsula, in the middle of Voyageurs National Park, stands out as the most beautiful part of our study area.
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Much of the Peninsula is made up of untouched, dense deciduous and coniferous forests interspersed with an abundance of lakes, wetlands, and bogs. One of my favorite parts of doing fieldwork there is its isolation. Because trail networks are limited, and it is only accessible by boat in the summer and snowmobile in the winter, human presence is minimal year-round.
Of course, the limited accessibility makes conducting fieldwork there logistically more challenging. This is partially why we do not spend as much time there as I am sure all of us on the project would like to.
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An iced-over beaver pond in the Greater Voyageurs Ecosystem. Tracks on the dam and ice reveal how these habitats become winter highways for wildlife. Photo by: Ottie Brueshaber
On the morning of January 27th, I was set to be dropped off via snowmobile at the Cruiser Lake trailhead, located in Lost Bay on the southeastern part of the Kabetogama Peninsula. My goal that day was to hike southeast of Cruiser Lake and check four trail cameras that had not been visited since the fall.
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Overall, it would be about a 7-mile round-trip journey. While seven miles is traditionally a light day for us, the snow on the ground made moving a bit more challenging. Temperatures sat around 25°F, though the constant wind made it feel like 10-15°F. All things considered, that is a fairly warm day for the end of January.
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The Cruiser Lake trail runs right through the heart of the Listening Point Pack’s large, remote territory, which spans the central and eastern parts of the Kabetogama Peninsula. Studying this pack has been a challenge due to the remote, rugged terrain where they live, and therefore the difficulty of capturing the pack on trail cameras frequently.
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To fix this, we’ve deployed more trail cameras throughout their territory in hopes of getting more observations— and that approached has worked well. For instance, in Winter 2023-2024 we knew how many wolves were in each pack, what each individual in the pack looked like, and what their pack status (breeding male or female, subordinate wolf, or pup). In other words, we developed a clear picture of the Listening Point wolves.
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This past winter, the Listening Point Pack appeared to be nine wolves, making them one of the largest packs in our study area. The pack appeared to consist of a breeding pair, three subordinate adults, and four pups but we are still reviewing footage from this winter to confirm this.
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Map showing Alex’s trail: from his drop-off at the end of Lost Bay to where he encountered the wolves.
Early in the hike, I quickly noticed wolves appeared to be using the Cruiser Trail regularly. Wolf tracks crisscrossed in the snow, accompanied by scent marks on rocks and trees. That is one of the perks when doing winter fieldwork, snow preserves sign that is much more challenging to observe in summer.
One of our trail cameras deployed on a beaver dam.
Between 1:00 and 1:30 p.m., I reached my third trail camera of the day, which was along the trail just below a large beaver dam. In winter, we often place trail cameras near, or even directly on beaver dams because wolves and other wildlife frequently use such areas to navigate the landscape. I went through my usual routine of camera maintenance: checking battery levels, assessing how full the SD card was, confirming the camera settings, and making sure the camera was set well.
With the camera squared away, I walked up the beaver dam to look over the pond— something I usually do when I am around beaver ponds. My heart skipped a beat. Roughly 80 meters out on the pond, standing on top of the beaver lodge, was a wolf staring directly at me, eyes locked with mine. The wolf was clearly aware of my presence, yet did not run.
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After a few moments of pure shock, I slowly lowered my backpack and reached for my camera— the one I haul into the field for rare moments like this. While I was doing this, I noticed a second wolf next to the lodge, sniffing around, investigating. ​
The image Alex captured of the Listening Point Pack's breeding male.
I laid down on the dam, lifted my camera, and began taking pictures. I paused periodically to watch the wolves with my own eyes. After about a minute, the first wolf ran down the lodge and into the woods. The second wolf ran further down the pond, and then suddenly I saw a third wolf come in to view that had been hidden by the lodge. The third wolf followed close behind the others.
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And just like that, they were gone. My chest felt heavy with adrenaline, and I was awestruck. I was excited, and borderline emotional. It felt like pure magic. A feeling that is truly hard to describe. Strangely enough, the first wolf on the lodge ran toward the direction I was headed. Barely 10 minutes later, I crossed paths with it again. This time, we both scared each other half to death.
The breeding female of the Listening Point Pack when Alex first spotted her. Photo by: Alex Gross.
I returned to Lost Bay around 3:40 p.m., the sun was now glowing low in the sky. I waited for my snowmobile ride back, still smiling uncontrollably from my encounter with those three wolves.
When I got home, I entered my data and immediately opened my camera to review and edit my photos, eager to identify the wolves I saw. The wolf that was standing on the beaver lodge turned out to be the breeding male of the Listening Point Pack.
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The wolf next to the lodge, sniffing around, was the breeding female of the pack. I did not get a clear look at the third wolf other than its tail as it ran off. It was likely either a pup born in April 2024, a yearling born in April 2023, or perhaps an older subordinate.
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Wolf encounters like this are remarkably rare in our study area. Unlike places such as Yellowstone, where wolves are often seen in open landscapes, the wolves in our area live in dense boreal forest, making visibility and direct observation limited. Seeing a wolf often comes down to a bit of luck and perfect timing.
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In this encounter, the wind worked in my favor, blowing in from the southwest while I approached from the south. Had I been upwind, the wolves would have likely detected me and vanished before I ever knew they were there. Wolves in the GVE are very discreet, and following them can be likened to chasing a ghost on the land. It is precisely this that makes the occasional field encounter feel special and rewarding.
Additional pictures Alex captured during his encounter:
Breeding male of Listening Point Pack zoomed out. This picture gives good scale as to how big this beaver lodge was! Photo by: Alex Gross
The breeding female of the Listening Point Pack. Photo by: Alex Gross.
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About the author:
ALEX GROSS is a second-year Wolf Predation and Research Technician with the Voyageurs Wolf Project. He originally joined us during the spring of 2024 and stayed for the winter season. Alex is a very talented photographer, and always brings his large camera out with him in the woods. He has captured pictures of all kinds of wildlife from small songbirds to gray wolves and black bears! See our photos page for some more of Alex's incredible pictures!