Bears in the woods

In just two days, the landscape changed. Warming days and near-constant rain dissolved thick snowbanks like cotton candy. Dramatic ice flows on Yellowstone Lake broke up, moved down river and disappeared. Rivers and creeks swelled to overflow banks, charged by muddy rapids, forming lakes where once there were meadows. Rare bursts of brilliant sunshine prompted the bison to take a break from their constant wandering and browsing and lie down in a meadow to soak up the sun, the calves’ legs stretched out as far as they could go. The weather didn’t keep us from looking for wildlife.
Bears are the top prize for most visitors from around the world, many of whom expect to see bears each day. But sightings of predators – wolves, bears and even coyotes – involve luck and being in the right place at the right time. We often arrive on the scene just seconds too late, and consider each sighting a wondrous miracle, given the size of the park and the fact that we’re “hunting” from the road. Mostly, they're far beyond the range of my point-and-shoot camera.
Passing the meadow where we’d seen the grizzly sow and cub, we noticed three cars parked in the pullout, one of them a ranger’s. There will always be vehicles in the road’s wide spots, but when you see a ranger’s car, you stop, knowing it’s something important. We did. In the light rain that grew heavier by the moment, we scanned the empty meadow and edge of the forest but saw nothing. Then we noted an elk at the far edge of the clearing. Its behavior was atypical.
Not once did the elk lower its head to browse and meander through the spring grass. Instead, it appeared rooted to the spot, looking toward the forest, sensing danger. We spotted the grizzly and cub sheltered from the rain behind a fallen tree, napping in the forest. The sow bear had killed the elk’s calf and was sleeping off the meal.
Returning from grazing, the elk was unaware of her calf’s fate, but smelled the grizzly and dared not approach the calf where she’d left it camouflaged in the grass. She took several steps toward the forest, then retreated.
“The bear will eat everything,” said the ranger. “Crack the bones, eat the marrow…”
The elk paced nervously, swiveling her ears to catch any sound.
Cold and wet, we left after an hour, but the elk maintained her vigil, looking toward the forest in the pelting rain.
. . .

“Chicken of the woods is what I call elk,” said a naturalist at the lake the following day. “They supply food for so many other animals.” We learned that fewer than half of the new spring calves will survive, and many adult males, weakened from the autumn rut, either die in the winter or are killed by predators in the spring. Grizzlies are the most successful predators of elk calves.
Two days later, the grizzly sow and cub were again in the meadow, where the adult bear jumped on the ground to determine the presence of tunnels, then dug to capture voles and ground squirrels, chewing them slowly and with apparent relish.
“Ooooh,” squealed the children among the roadside spectators. “Isn’t she the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
We picked up camp and moved to Mammoth at the north entrance of the park. Our first drive to Lamar Valley brought us the sighting of a black bear some distance from the road, then a later sighting of our ranger friend John, managing the biggest bear jam we've ever seen at the bridge. After greetings and a hug, we joined the crowd on the span to see a cinnamon black bear, sleeping off the capture and ingestion of yet another hapless elk calf. This time we could see the remains.
Spring may be the cruelest season in Yellowstone.
Pictures at: http://picasaweb.google.com/happytwo.mcwilliams/2Yellowstonespring2010blog?authkey=Gv1sRgCPG1q67Fo-a3mwE&feat=directlink