An urgent need to respect where the wild things go
Live from Gibbon, Neb., and I mean live. Some heavenly gong that only birds can hear has sounded, and thousands of sandhill cranes are taking off from the Platte River. Anyone on the Internet can see this amazing migration in real time, thanks to National Geographic's "crane cam" (nationalgeographic.com). You have till April 17.
It's spring, or just about, and wildlife is on the move. The salmon are swimming up rivers to their spawning grounds. Grizzly bears will soon get their wakeup call to go forth and find female company. And deer, elk and antelope will leave the valleys for the higher elevations.
These travels are essential for the animals' survival. And when the conditions along their migration routes deteriorate — or development breaks up the routes themselves — wildlife disappears.
Protecting migration paths is one bear of an environmental challenge. It's not just about setting aside wildlife refuges, but ensuring that the animals can get to them. The complications are legion and growing, as humankind takes over the real estate.
From time immemorial, moose have spent their winters on the brushy lowland at the head of Alaska's Cook Inlet. That hospitable shelter has become the city of Anchorage. The moose still come back in the winter, but now they gobble up suburban landscaping, get tangled in swing sets and fall into violent confrontations with humans. They will soon head out of town and up into the hills behind Anchorage. Problem is, new houses are taking over the hills.
Migration routes are like subway lines. Different species get on and off at different stops. For example, the Mexican free-tailed bat spends winter in Mexico but summers in the American Southwest. Caribou make long migrations, from their winter home in southwestern Wyoming's Red Desert to the Grand Tetons in the northern part of the state. Trumpeter swans winter in the Grand Tetons and summer in Canada.
Environmental groups are trying hard to preserve a wildlife corridor stretching from Yellowstone to the Yukon. That means working with local residents, land trusts and transportation planners to create a veritable "interstate" for migrating animals.
"Our real goal is to have a wildlands network across the entire region," says Rob Ament, executive director of American Wildlands, a group that concentrates on the northern U.S. Rockies.
What happens on federal lands is also a big piece of the puzzle. On that score, the Bush administration has shown little pity for migrating wildlife. Environmentalists are especially worried about new rules that weaken safeguards on development in the National Forests.
The salmon runs have become a source of constant anxiety in the Northwest. To spawn, the salmon must leave the ocean and swim up rivers — some as far inland as central Idaho. That they do it at all is amazing. Chinook salmon, for example, swim thousands of miles from the North Pacific to their home stream.
That they do it on dammed rivers is a total miracle. Federal dam managers on the Columbia and Snake rivers are supposed to regulate the flows and water temperatures for the salmon. But they also must serve the interests of hydroelectric plants and farmers. Adding to the annual panic, the Northwest has just had one of the driest Februarys on record.
Birds have their own travel requirements. They can fly over obstacles, but they need places to rest and refuel before continuing their long journeys. Arctic Terns, for example, commute 20,000 miles a year — from the Canadian north to Antarctica and back.
Last year, I stood in a chilly Nebraska dawn and watched the sandhill cranes do their incredible takeoff. The cranes like to sleep in the middle of the Platte River, because predators can't get at them there.
Conservationists have to groom the river habitat, because human activity has reduced the flows. The Audubon's Rowe Sanctuary and other groups use heavy machinery to maintain the wide channels and open sandbars that the cranes prefer. (For more on the sandhill cranes, go to www.rowesanctuary.org.)
Americans must understand that when wild creatures can no longer get where they need to be, it's all over for them. Saving and restoring wildlife corridors is one of the hardest environmental tasks around, but if it's not done, our natural heritage will be lost forever.
