Tracking the snow cat: hot on the trail of the lynx—the northern woods' most secretive predator - Cover Story

Sierra, March-April, 2003 by Kim Todd

One of the reasons Lynx canadensis was placed on the endangered species list in 2000 was that data about the animal in the western United States were so scarce. In the Northern Rockies, the listing as "threatened" required amendments to plans for 4 Bureau of Land Management sites and 18 national forests. Some lynx-saving strategies have already been identified. For instance, we could stop culling trees from young forests before logging them--a practice called "pre-commercial thinning" that causes snowshoe hares to vanish. But overall, to manage for lynx, a much clearer picture of the reclusive cat is required. What does it eat in the summer? What makes one den more attractive than another? Which kinds of forests does it need? "If we had $50 million from Congress to recover lynx populations," Squires says, "we wouldn't know how to spend it."

Efforts to bring the lynx back to its former range have been hampered by this lack of expertise. In the late 1980s, for example, 83 lynx were released in the Adirondacks, a place where the species started disappearing in the mid-1800s. Many were killed by cars, and recent surveys indicate that none remains. In Colorado's San Juan National Forest in 1999 and 2000, many of the 96 lynx reintroduced starved to death, but at least 34 are still alive and biologists are planning to add up to 180 more.

Squires and his staff have been tracking lynx in western Montana for four years. They currently have radio collars on about 30 and spend days on end following them in Seeley-Swan Valley a cleft through some of the most spectacular wilderness the United States has to offer. To the east, the Bob Marshall and Scapegoat Wildernesses stretch all the way to the rippling plains past the Continental Divide. To the west, the Mission Mountain Wilderness and the Mission Mountain Tribal Wilderness encompass sheer snow-covered cliffs. To the north, marmots whistle on the high peaks of Glacier National Park, smack against the Canadian border where a chain of protected areas reach deep into British Columbia. It's no surprise that Canada lynx have chosen this steep-sided valley as one of their last strongholds in the Lower 48. Along with northwestern Maine and Okanogan National Forest in Washington State, the Seeley-Swan is one of only three documented breeding populations.

Before Squires's research started, just three lynx dens had been described south of the Canadian border. Now he and his crew find that many in an afternoon. They track lynx movements from airplanes, study interactions with coyotes and mountain lions, and try to determine what kills them when they die. Between their work and that of scientists at the nearby University of Montana, the lynx is gradually coming into focus.

After walking along an overgrown dirt road, a crew member raises a large antenna to locate F10's radio collar. Swinging the antenna around, we wait for the strongest signal, telling us which direction to go. Taking readings from three different angles helps pinpoint the cat's location. The steady blips say she's resting in her den, occasionally moving her head, listening to researchers rustling in the brush.