Fladry on the Mil-Mar Ranch
The first thing I do when I arrive at the Mil-Mar Ranch, a 276-acre livestock operation in southwestern Oregon, is find the right stick. The stick I need is two or three feet long and not too thick. It doesn’t need to be very sturdy as it will be used as a tool, not a weapon. I’m not afraid of the wolves and other wildlife that frequent the ranch - I’m trying to help them.
The Mil-Mar Ranch, owned by Ted Birdseye, lies in a vast valley adjacent to the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest. Irrigation keeps the vegetation a lush green. Behind the ranch, conifers stand tall in graduated height as the elevation of the ground rises below them. The ranch is quiet, except for the lowing of cattle and the neighing of horses. One morning, I heard the high-pitched bugle of an elk, hidden from view in the nearby forest.
As the crow flies, or perhaps as a wolf trots, the ranch is about 30 miles south-west of Crater Lake National Park. A detailed map of the area is ripe with wolf-related place names like Wolf Peak and Lonewolf, attesting to the legacy of Canis lupus before the systematic and brutal extirpation of the species that was completed in this area in the 1940s. The map also shows the Imnaha Creek and guard station, reminding us of the Imnaha pack of northeastern Oregon, the family of wolves that birthed OR-7, the renowned wolf also known as Journey.
OR-7 is the reason I am here. This wolf, now an elderly gent at nine years of age, left his natal pack in 2011 and made his famous trek to southern Oregon and northern California, verified via the GPS collar he was wearing. Finally, in 2014, OR-7 met a female wolf that had also dispersed from northeastern Oregon. The pair created the Rogue pack in the wilderness of the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest and have parented five litters of pups. One of their offspring dispersed and formed a pack in northern California. Another, a female, was captured and radio collared and dubbed OR -54. The GPS from her collar provided proof that in mid- January of 2018, the Rogues was responsible for the deaths of three calves on the Mil-Mar Ranch, a disappointing but not altogether surprising turn of events for the pack.
Ted Birdseye relies on his livestock for his livelihood, however he was willing to do his part to prevent further problems with wolves. He doesn’t want wolves killed “unless it’s an absolute necessity.” Fortunately, the law is also on the side of wolves in southwestern Oregon, as they are still federally protected in this part of the state, making legalized lethal removal of offending animals nearly impossible.
So, the answer becomes one of prevention. The Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife, Wildlife Services, and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, all worked together to install nearly three miles of turbo-fladry on the perimeter of the Mil-Mar Ranch. Fladry is an ancient tool that was once used to capture and kill wolves by chasing them inside its waving, colored flags. Now it is used as a deterrent to keep wolves out of areas, although rarely areas as large as the Mil-Mar Ranch. The turbo element adds an electric shock to the fence line, one that is likely not forgotten by the animal that touches it.
The upkeep of the fladry is where I and my handy stick come in. Through the organization of Suzanne Stone of Defenders of Wildlife and John Stephenson of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, I began volunteering at the ranch shortly after the fladry fence was erected. Every two weeks or so I drive the hour from my home to the ranch where I walk along the fence line and use my stick to unfurl the red flags of the fladry that has, with the help of the wind, become wrapped around the cord that holds it. The flags only do their job in keeping wary wolves away when they can fly freely. Occasionally, poles holding the fence have fallen down due to high winds or other causes. I stand the poles back up and use my stick to reattach the line. I also use a hand-held voltmeter to check the power of the turbo charged fence. A couple of times the voltmeter reads zero. After changing the battery and still getting no reading, I followed the fence line to the power source, a battery and solar powered setup created by John Stephenson. Both times, wires had been knocked down, perhaps by ranch horses curious about the strange equipment lying in their pasture. Following direction given by John on my first trip to the ranch, I reattached the wires (carefully as I remember being zapped by electric fences as a kid) and checked again. A charge of seven meant my efforts were successful and the wire could do its job in keeping out hungry wolves.
As a writer, I spend a lot of time inside doing research to create articles, blog posts, and also a book about wolves. To have the opportunity to be in the natural world and the territory of the Rogue pack, is much more than a breath of fresh air. Each trip to the ranch is filled with the anticipation that, although I’m unlikely see wolves, I will at least be in their presence. They may even be watching me while I’m keeping an eye out for them. I often take short forays into the surrounding woods to look for sign. I’ve discovered a track or two and a large pile of distinctly wolf scat.
The fladry is down now for the summer as Ted’s cattle are out on open range. In the six months the fence was up, there were no livestock depredations at the ranch, a testament to the value of non-lethal measures as well as to the tremendous efforts of everyone who poured their time and energy into the project. Three miles of fladry is a lot, but the experiment proved successful as both the cattle and the wolves remained safe.
My plan is to return as a volunteer when the fladry goes back up in the fall. Perhaps then I’ll have the good fortune of catching a glimpse of OR-7 or another member of the Rogue pack.
