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I’m a big fan of wilderness. I love the trails less trodden, streams that gurgle even when no one is there to listen, the bugle on an unseen elk somewhere over the ridge, that moment of connection watching a bear watching me. For me, it seemed as though Bob Holder, Colorado Division of Wildlife District Manager for the western half of Las Animas County, had one of the top ten coolest jobs. Bob, on the other hand, knows its not just in the top ten, for him, it is number one. During the hectic bear season this past September that I spent a day on the job with Bob Holder to better understand what a wildlife officer does.
I packed camera and notebook, and as I climbed into his big black DOW truck, part police cruiser, part mobile office, part home away from home, I also carried a fair amount of naiveté that it was going to be a day of bucolic back county wild life scenes. I pictured rescuing critters and releasing bears. Instead, I learned that somedays, wildlife officers encounter a great deal of death.
Bob is a very recognizable figure both in and out the truck. During his 31 years on the job, he has probably been down every road, track and trail in the county. Known as the go to guy for help with all wild creatures great and small, many area residents first and foremost think Bob’s main job is chasing bears out of neighborhoods. In reality, that is only a small part of a busy day that can start at dawn, and go well into the night. In the process of protecting the resources that belong to all of us, it is a job that includes law enforcement, game management, education, biology, forensics, public relations, and land management.
He loves what he does with as much enthusiasm now as when he first started. He never seems to tire of helping people and helping the animals under his protection. He particularly likes tracking down poachers. “What people don’t realize is that the wildlife belongs to all of us. When some one goes out and poaches an elk, they are stealing that resource from all the rest of us.” Wildlife law enforcement can be a dangerous job, and we are not talking about danger from animals. A wildlife officer is 6-8 times more likely to be assaulted on the job then a police officer, and twice as likely to be killed in an assault. “It’s because of where we work,” said Bob.
The day I road along with Bob, and Attila the Rotweiler, his trusty companion and deputy, was a day of multi tasking to the extreme. The first mission was to “seal” a bear. As we bumped along the dirt road to a hunting camp in Weston, he said, “I suppose I should have asked you this before. Do you have a problem with dead animals?” No I replied somewhat squelching my true feelings, my stomach doing a flip flop in anticipatory grief. It was then that I figured out that I wasn’t going to be up close and personal with one of my favorite animals quite the way I had hoped.
Hanging in the breezeway of a barn, the carcass of a young sow was displayed for admiration and inspection. A slight whiff of death greeted us as we climbed out of the truck. The head and complete skin, with its magnificent honey brown fur was laid out on a table. The hunters, guide and ranch owners were gathered around with jovial camaraderie while Bob made measurements and recorded data. This field collection of data is for research on the bear population. The sex, and weight are recorded along with an estimate of age by examining the teeth. An overall assessment of its previous state of health is noted as well. Additionally, for sows, a template with holes cut into it is used to measure the nipples. Bob explained that a sow does not breed until age 5, and the cubs then stay with her for a year. Therefore, typically a sow breeds every two years. By measuring the nipples, one can determine where she was in that cycle. If the hunter permits, a tooth is removed for further analysis. In the lab, the tooth is set in clear acrylic, then cross sectioned and examined under a microscope. Like counting tree rings, age can be determined by counting tooth rings. Throughout the process, Bob’s other mission as an educator rolls easily off his tongue imparting bits of science, animal behavior, and wisdom gleaned from decades in the field.
Leaving the camp, we headed further west on Highway 12 to the State Wildlife Area Bosque del Oso. Snow on the distant peaks cut a jagged line across the horizon, and the rich colors of autumn painted the hillsides. For a moment I forgot that this was a job and not a sight seeing tour. A hunter had reported seeing a sick elk along the South Fork. She was seen to be emaciated and slobbering. Worries of chronic wasting disease (CWD) required that she be found. The infectious CWD has not been found south of Pueblo yet, but the state DOW is monitoring it closely. There had also been a report of a bull elk that had been tangled in barbed wire. The search had begun early in the morning for both animals, and Quintin, a DOW technician, radioed in that the cow had been located and put down. “You never know what it’s going to be from day to day,” Bob said as we turned into the Bosque.
He explained that the other possibility was that the cow had eaten locoweed. The symptoms can be similar. “Locoweed can be a problem if the elk survives eating it one year,” he said, “then the next year they seek it out pulling it up roots and all.” Some signs of locoweed poisoning are apparent in the field, but the plan was to transport the elk to Ft Collins for necropsy.
Along the South Fork debris is still piled against the up streamside of the cottonwoods, the remaining evidence of the flood event after the Spring Fire 3 years ago. In scattered areas of the valley, plots of aspen, choke cherry and wild plum have been planted, protected by high elk proof fencing. Once established, DOW will use them in restoration work. The riparian area was recovering from the flood damage, some areas better than others. Bob pointed out that the pliable, young narrow leaf cottonwoods and willows survived better as they could bend with the torrent. The streambed provides cover, food, and bedding for many species, and therefore is important habitat. A big part of DOW’s mission is to improve habitat, which in turn improves the wildlife.
We finally reached Quintin and the dead cow elk. She was an old, old girl. It did not appear to be a case of CWD. Her molars were worn down to the gums. And she was wasting away from starvation She had picked a serene place to die here among the old cottonwoods fringed with gold and had lain down one last time. Quintin’s bullet had mercifully ended her life a little sooner. Despite the appearances, Bob and Quintin took vials of blood for analysis, and winched her into Quintin’s truck for transport to Ft. Collins.
On the way out of the Bosque, we stopped to give a lift and some directions to a couple of hunters. “”We try to help out where ever we can,” Bob answered to my unasked question. Good deed done, we detoured to view some of the forest restoration projects that the DOW has done on the Bosque. Overly dense thickets of trees and brush do not make healthy forests, nor do they provide good habitat for wildlife, and the DOW is using several strategies for restoring them. One tool in this process is a Hydro Ax. This lawnmower on steroids can reduce trees into mulch, and can treat a large number of acres rather quickly. The DOW has also used controlled burns on the Bosque with great success. The goal is to open up the forest, and allow sunlight to reach the forest floor. “For the animals, you need feeding areas and resting areas as well as travel corridors,” explained Bob of their strategy. “Not only does it make defensible space in the event of a forest fire, but it improves the overall habitat.” After Hydro Ax work, the DOW broadcasts seed to increase the grasses and forbs loved by browsing animals. When asked about how these strategies can be incorporated by small landowners, he said, “Even on your own land, you can improve habitat for wildlife by open up some areas, and thinning the density of trees in others, but remember to leave places for resting and hiding.” He added, ” you want to also remember that diversity is strength. You don’t want to end up with a monoculture by removing everything around you except ponderosas.”
It was 6:30, and we were headed back to town when the first bear call of the night came in. After what most people would call a full day’s work, Bob was only gearing up for the second half. Poor cell reception garbled the call but the words “bear” and “attack” came through. We sped east on Highway 12 with lights and sirens, the black truck surging past lines of gas field trucks forced to pull over. On scene, we quickly learned no one was hurt. A bear reportedly had opened a screen door scaring the heck out of a mother and little girl. It had been in the neighborhood the past couple nights, and efforts to remove the attractants were not working. Though bears are omnivores, their primary diet is vegetarian. In the fall they bulk up in preparation for hibernation, and their near constant eating brings them increasingly into neighborhoods where trash, dog food, bird seed and even compost piles offer easy snacking. Most bear “problems” can be avoided by removing the things that attract them. Since this first line of defense did not work in this situation, Bob coordinated the placing of a trap in the yard so the bear could be caught and relocated.
The excitement drew a crowd and some of the neighbors reported a dead bear down by the Purgatoire. Great, more dead things, I thought as I trouped along through a tangle of brush, waste high grass and a cloud of mosquitoes. Ahead lay a brown lump in a sea of green. Dead for a few days, it was bloated to an unnaturally large size. At first it looked like a child’s giant stuffed toy slumbering beneath a tree. Bob rolled him over and revealed a gunshot wound. A wave of anger spread over his usually jovial countenance. “That’s a waste. That’s a dam waste of a great bear.” Pausing to shake his head at the senseless killing, he added with deep contempt in his voice, “He’s been gut shot.” The gathered throng backed off, slightly ashamed now of their initial giddy excitement. The stench of death rolled over all of us like a shock wave, and scattered everyone back up the hill. Everyone except Bob Holder. He had a job to do. Alone, somehow he rolled, dragged and maneuvered the dead bear out of the ravine and through the brush to the base of the hill where with the winch on the truck, he could hoisting it out. As passionate as he is for the animals his is charged with protecting, I can only imagine the effort, not only physical, that it took for him.
I waited in the DOW truck. Even with the windows rolled up, the clawing stench was caught in my throat. I imagined the bear shot, running off to die slowly and painfully down by the river. Not of old age like the elk, not legally hunted with an accurate and swift shot, but poached by someone too lazy to secure their trash. When Bob returned, he was stained with blood. My day was done, but his was just beginning. “You never know what each day will bring,” he reiterated. The animated conversations we shared all day gave way to reflective silence. I knew though, that even with the particularly difficult challenges of this day, Bob would still have said he had the best job in the world.
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