A grizzly bear lumbered
through my herb garden before winter set in. It was a striking
visual experience. His muscles powered under his fur like an
overloaded freight train, and his eyes swung to take me into his
scrutiny.
Northwest Montana is bear country —
grizzly bear country, to be precise. Unimpeded by fences, unaware
of boundary lines, grizzly and black bears tromp across our
property. Our house, like many others around us, is simply a speed
bump on their feeding-ground highway.
This is country
where garbage and pet food easily become animal attractants, though
most people know that opening a backyard McDonald’s for
wildlife is taboo.
So, I was surprised when 2004’s
human-caused death toll of grizzlies topped any of the last 30
years. The most recent high tallied 19 deaths in 2000, but this
year’s kills rocketed to 31.
While some grizzlies
met their demise at the hands of poachers, most were delinquents in
rural areas — over half on private land — where
they’d become hooked on bird feeders or pizzas in garbage
cans. Unfortunately, bears that rummage through human stuff
eventually find themselves at the wrong end of the bear-management
game — transported to other locations, or killed if they
can’t change their ways.
Equally disturbing is the
number of females killed — 18 grizzlies. For a species listed
as threatened, the loss of females is serious for future
populations, especially when a grizzly’s reproductive
capabilities are the least productive of all the large mammals. To
maintain a viable population, government guidelines assume only
four female deaths per year.
While a variety of factors
may have led to an increase of bears marauding garbage dumpsters
— including a bad berry season and an increase in people
building houses in grizzly corridors — it’s sad when a
bear loses its life due to human laziness. What is so hard about
taking care of garbage correctly?
This year, Glacier
National Park, an enclave of prime grizzly bear habitat, reported
no human-caused grizzly deaths. Considering that nearly two million
tourists annually enter its borders, that’s a big feat.
Though Glacier ‘s roadless areas and its no-hunting policy go
a long way to protect bears, here’s what the park really does
right:
Glacier imposes strict fines for mishandling food
outdoors. Every front-country campground and picnic table wears a
list of no-nos stapled to it with fines that will be incurred for
failing to comply. People are told that all their food and pet
food, dishes, cookware and garbage belong inside vehicles when
people are not present at the campsite. Backcountry hikers are
provided with poles or bars to hang food up high, and sleeping
sites are separated from cooking sites. These precautions train
bears to find food sources apart from humans.
Glacier
also uses bear-resistant garbage cans and dumpsters. As park
biologist John Waller recently told the Hungry Horse News, “Instead
of putting your garbage in an open dumpster, put it in a
bear-resistant dumpster… we’ve done it here for decades
and it works.”
Because bears are opportunistic and canny
feeders, they gravitate to ready food sources similar to the way
people grab a quick munchie when hungry. But Glacier’s
enforcement of food and garbage policies has drastically reduced
the bad-bear syndrome.
Bears are quick learners.
It’s the job of Tim Manley, a bear management specialist with
Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks, to re-educate the omnivores away
from humans. Using Karelian dogs to haze bears, firing bean bags
and rubber bullets at the animals, firing shots in the air or just
making a lot of noise, he tries to teach bears that humans are to
be avoided. And many bears learn, unless they have been already
conditioned otherwise.
We have a lot to learn, too. Many
folks plop a house down on wilderness fringes but fail to assume
responsibility for the wildlife blundering — so to speak —
across their property lines. So, a chunk of Manley’s
education efforts targets homeowners who may be new to the West.
Storing garbage — along with Fido’s food and livestock
grain — inside the house or garage is an effortless solution.
And while bird feeders are fun to watch, birds don’t need
seed in summer when bears are apt to raid backyard feeders.
Perhaps we ought to copy Glacier National Park and impose
fines on those who fail to take precautions with their garbage or
pet food. The message, “Do Not Feed the Bears,” has been around a
long time, but bears have one-upped us. Clearly, grizzlies learn
faster than we do.
Becky Lomax is a contributor
to Writers on the Range, a service of High Country
News (hcn.org). She lives in Whitefish, Montana, with
grizzly bears in her backyard.
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