WALDEN — The wolf pack stalks east of this Colorado ranching town, between Colorado 125 and the hogbacks tracing the western edge of the Medicine Bow Mountains.
They attacked a pair of cows on Don and Kim Gittleson’s ranch sometime on the night of Jan. 17. One of the black Angus, bred specifically for life at high altitudes, would recover but the other had to be put down later that day. Not by lethal injection, Don Gittleson told The Denver Post. Better, quicker to shoot her.
The pack attacked again the next morning. Kim Gittleson said they heard howling and rushed out to the pasture where they found another dead cow, mostly eaten. The pack had howled, she said, as though they were celebrating the kill.
And they’ll be back, she said.
“The wolves know where our cows are,” she said. “It’s like we’re their grocery store.”
Many other residents in Walden, the seat of Jackson County and its only incorporated town, seem to agree.
Ranchers, business people, barflies and parents say they fear the eight wolves living on the outskirts of town. They shake their heads and tally the dead on their calloused fingers. Three cows and two dogs, most agree. More are sure to follow, they say. Some parents say they’re afraid to let their children wander alone.
Not only do the people of Walden say they feel helpless as the wolves endanger their livelihoods, tourists and their outdoor lifestyle but they also feel ignored by state officials charged with managing the apex predators, which were hunted to near extinction generations ago.
If nothing changes, they say, other small, ranching communities and farming towns on Colorado’s Western Slope can also expect to lose livestock and business when state officials begin reintroducing gray wolves to the forests next year.
Ecologists, scientists and reintroduction advocates say the fears are understandable but rooted in a lack of familiarity with wolf behavior and the data collected elsewhere. But they, too, feel ignored by state officials and insist that the Department of Natural Resources should do more to buffer the people of Walden from the wolves while still protecting the endangered species.
As climate change worsens and humans encroach further on the state’s wilderness, conservation and restoration efforts – like reintroducing the wolves – are all the more important, the experts say. And as the wolf population grows larger, state officials and ranchers will have more management options.
The predators are necessary for ecological recovery, experts and scientists agree. As they begin to reproduce they should help plant life — like aspen groves — and other wildlife to recover from a warming and drying climate, overgrazing and human development.
Representatives for Colorado’s Department of Natural Resources say they’re working diligently on a plan to manage the wolves ahead of the reintroduction but at the moment they’re short on time, staff and resources.
The elder female in the Walden pack migrated from Wyoming in 2019, catching the state off guard. Officials documented the male wolf in February 2021. Later that year the female had a litter of six puppies.
When the wolves first came to Colorado neither state officials nor ranchers were legally allowed to interfere unless they were attacking a person, officials say. This month, the state Parks and Wildlife Commission approved some emergency control measures and those will have to last until a broader management plan is approved sometime next year.
Between now and then, though, the people in Walden expect the wolves to kill more cattle, perhaps more dogs and, they hope not a member of their tight-knit community.
“She’s a nervous wreck.”
The father shook his head and sipped a cup of coffee at Holy Grounds in town. He said he won’t go out on the ranch without his 40-caliber Glock for protection. Nor will he let his son head to the barn alone anymore, not during the day and especially not at night.
Carlos Atencio’s family returned from a trip in early December to find one of their pet dogs, Scooby, dead and bloodied.
“His guts were cut up, he was just bleeding,” Atencio said. “He was able to drag himself up to the porch.”
Atencio said he assumed a pack of coyotes killed Scooby. That is, until the next month wolves attacked two of their working dogs: border collies named Buster and Izzy.
Buster died in the attack but fought hard enough that Izzy escaped injured but alive.
After the deadly encounter, Atencio said he asked state officials to check tracking coordinates for the pack (both adult wolves wear tracking collars) around the time Scooby had been attacked. Sure enough, he said, the wolves’ positioning lined up with the first attack.
State officials will reimburse ranchers for livestock and working animals, like dogs, killed by wolves. But not for pets.
Atencio said he, his 12-year-old son and the rest of the family miss their dogs. Izzy does too, he said, and she’s yet to emotionally recover.
“She’s a nervous wreck,” Atencio said. “She’ll walk 100 yards out, smell wolf tracks and won’t leave the house the rest of the day.”
Tanya Fletcher, who runs the coffee shop, chimed in from behind the counter. She and her husband, Regin Fletcher, live on the ranch between Atencio and the Gittlesons. So far they haven’t had an attack, she said, but they’ll see wolf tracks near their home often.
The wolf kills added up much quicker than anyone anticipated, Tanya Fletcher said.
She expressed concern, especially for her 13-year-old daughter.
So, too, did her husband, who the day before stood on their ranch, sun in his eyes and nodding toward the barn. Inside, goats bleated.
The Fletchers’ daughter and 16-year-old son raise goats for the youth-focused agriculture program, 4-H. After the wolves started killing livestock the children moved the goats into the barn to keep them safe.
Regin Fletcher said his daughter uses a wheelchair and can no longer tend to her goats for fear of the wolves. If she’s surrounded, she won’t be able to defend herself, he said.
Pointing to a map spread over a car hood, Regin Fletcher said the wolves move north and south along the western edge of the Medicine Bow Mountains and circle back along the nearby Canadian and Michigan rivers.
The pack’s territory spans dozens of square miles, he said with an outstretched hand. They can cover large distances easily and ranchers often see them east of the highway, black fur against the snow-white background.
Ranchers and townsfolk generally agree that the den lies on or near Atencio’s 11,000-acre ranch and their hunting grounds expand north to the Fletchers’ and then to the Gittlesons’ ranch. But they’re not all in agreement on what to do.
“A lot of people want to eradicate them, but I’m not on that page,” Regin Fletcher said.
After the first attack at his ranch, Don Gittleson and the head of the Colorado Cattlemen’s Association called for state officials to consider including a lethal option in the state management plan.
Fletcher said he would prefer to live alongside the wolves. But he understands that they represent a threat to his livestock, pets and potentially his family and said he’d rather take a proactive management approach than a reactive one. As things are, he’s not sure whether he’ll be able to allow his cows to calve in the pasture or if they’ll have to relocate, which would increase costs dramatically.
Earlier this month, Colorado Parks and Wildlife Commission unanimously gave ranchers permission to haze, or frighten, wolves away from their properties.
Generally, hazing is understood to be anything that doesn’t kill or injure the wolves, said state Species Conservation Program Manager Eric Odell.
Fletcher gave thanks for the commission’s move but said it’s still not enough for him to be able to protect his ranch. Atencio and Don Gittleson said they’re still unclear on what they can or can’t do.
Propane cannons and rubber bullets could scare the wolves off, Atencio said. But one wrong shot could mean an injured or a dead wolf, which could carry with it a $100,000 fine, a year in jail and loss of hunting privileges for life.
Ranchers can’t watch around the clock, Atencio and Don Gittleson said. Nor can they afford to hire more hands.
The Gittlesons work their ranch with their two sons and a grandson. They own fewer than 180 cows. Every lost cow, every lost dollar counts.
Ranchers aren’t the only ones worried either.
“Let’s take ’em to Boulder.”
The wolves are clearly killing other animals in the area, Jared Florell, owner and founder of Medicine Bow Outfitters, said. Now his hunting, guiding and taxidermy business must compete with the predators for elk, deer and moose in the area.
Maybe every other day Florell said he’ll “glass” the wolves (see them through a telescope or binoculars). Customers on hunting expeditions will encounter them frequently and one was even surrounded by the pack — a frightening experience, he said.
Word is already spreading among customers, Florell said, cutting into business. And if the wolves kill more of the wildlife in the area that could hurt even more.
“I may have to change from elk hunting to wolf viewing,” Florell said.
But Delia Malone, a Western Slope ecologist, said Florell and other hunters should give thanks for the wolves because they’ll ultimately kill weak animals and leave behind stronger herds. Perfect for the trophies big-game hunters want, she said.
Over at the Stockman Bar on Main Street, K.D. Romack hands her phone behind the bar to Kali Kennedy. They read a Facebook post about the most recent kill at the Gittleson ranch and sigh at the photos.
Walden might only be home to a few hundred people year-round but the town doubles in size in the summer when tourists come to catch a glimpse of moose, camp and hike.
Romack noted that the wolves didn’t finish the job with both of Gittleson’s cows. She, Kennedy and others in town believe the pack is killing for the fun of it.
Malone and other experts vehemently refute claims that wolves kill without reason.
Living in Walden wasn’t easy to begin with, Kennedy said. With wolves around, it’s even more difficult. And the narrow passage of Proposition 114 in 2020, mandating their reintroduction, has deepened the political divide between Colorado’s urban and rural communities.
Both women noted that only 13 of Colorado’s 64 counties voted in favor of the issue.
Romack shook her head at the disconnect and said it reminded her that her husband, a trapper, killed himself after the state outlawed trapping in 1996.
“If Boulder wants wolves, let’s take ’em to Boulder,” Romack said. “This isn’t something to play with.”
That political divide between Colorado’s urban and rural communities is perhaps illustrated best by a sign posted north of Walden and often mentioned by its residents. It tells people that if they voted for Proposition 114, “Do not recreate here. You are not welcome!”
Perhaps the Western Slope should secede from the rest of the state, said Walden Mayor Jim Dustin.
“Go look in the zoo.”
In a conference room at the town hall, Dustin kindly shooed a black dog B.B. from the room. Shutting the door, he questioned the need to reintroduce the endangered animals at all.
“The ecosystem doesn’t revolve around the wolf anymore,” Dustin said. “If people want to see a wolf they should go look in the zoo.”
Or perhaps those opposed to the reintroduction should run another referendum to stop the effort, he said.
“We’re living in a petri dish for the western half of the state,” Dustin said. “And it’s not looking good.”
“You throw the kitchen sink at this thing.”
Only one species in the world appears to kill for fun and it’s not wolves, said conservation biologist Mike Phillips, who is based out of the greater Yellowstone area in Montana.
It’s humans.
“It’s hard to make a living in the woods with your teeth,” Phillips said. “Seven, eight, nine times out of 10 they come up empty-pawed.”
Reports of wolves killing for “the pure pleasure of it” persist and cases where they have killed more than they needed to survive, called “surplus killings” do pop up, though rarely.
One study from experts with Idaho Fish and Game states that most surplus kills happen under “unusual circumstances” like in extremely deep snow, which leaves prey at a larger disadvantage. And even then, wolves typically return and eat the carcasses later.
The Gittlesons’ cows likely survived the attack because they escaped somehow, not because the wolves attacked for the fun of it, Phillips said.
Rapid-fire, he addressed other concerns voiced by the people of Walden.
First, he said an attack on humans is unlikely. Word spreads quickly that the animals don’t fear humans but that’s inaccurate. Phillips said he could approach the pack on foot, yell loudly and they’d scatter.
The data is clear, according to Delia Malone, who also serves as wildlife chair for the Colorado Chapter of the Sierra Club. Only two fatal wolf attacks on humans have been verified in the last century. One was in Alaska and the other was in the Canadian province of Saskatchewan.
About 100 wolves have lived in Yellowstone National Park for decades now, Malone continued. And since 1995, when the wolves were reintroduced to the park, visitors have spent a total of about 2.7 million nights tent-camping in the park.
“Never, not once since then, in 20-plus years, has anybody been injured by a wolf,” Malone said.
Parents’ fears for their children are understandable but more indicative of fears left over from Colorado’s frontier days rather than reality, Malone said.
Then, Phillips said attacks like those seen in Jackson County are atypical. Dead livestock and pets garner more widespread attention but in the broader perspective, they’re extremely uncommon.
The approximately 1,100 gray wolves living in Montana can be expected to kill about 50 head of cattle a year, Phillips said. Tiny compared to the millions of cattle in the state.
In Idaho, which has about 1,100 wolves, 107 livestock animals were confirmed as killed by wolves, according to Mike Edmondson, of Idaho’s Office of Species Conservation.
Wolf studies over the years have shown that confirmed kills are lower than the actual number of kills, but the precise breakdown is unclear and will “likely remain a contentious issue in the future,” one 1985 study noted.
Edmondson said cattle industry representatives often say one kill is too many.
But realistically, Phillips said wolf packs don’t represent a problem for the industry at large, though the losses sting more for smaller ranchers like the Gittlesons.
The Gittlesons also raise a less-common breed of high-altitude Angus, which makes their losses even more pronounced.
People in Walden are correct to expect more attacks on livestock, Phillips acknowledged. Because hunting is so difficult for wolves they’re likely to continue pursuing the easier meals.
State officials were caught “flat-footed” when the Walden wolves arrived and started breeding, Phillips said. Short of killing or injuring the wolves, which would defeat the purpose of the reintroduction, those officials should do everything they can to protect the people, pets and livestock in Jackson County.
“You throw the kitchen sink at this thing,” Phillips said. “You try everything to provide Mr. Gittleson assurances that they’re going to resolve this conflict because his property matters.”
Gittleson said Jan. 26 that state and federal officials flew out an electric fence special for his property. They set it up in a day or two but then high winds in the area knocked parts of it down. He expressed concerns that wolves could jump over barriers but that wouldn’t make a difference if the fence was stuck on the ground anyway.
Idaho reimburses ranchers for livestock killed by wolves, Joshua Uriarte, species program manager and policy advisor for the Office of Species Conservation, said. But those payouts are limited by the amount of money available from federal grants.
The most recent grant gave Idaho about $139,000 for those confirmed kills, Uriarte said.
For the 107 kills, the state paid out a total of $96,736, Edmondson said. That’s at a market rate. But if the number of kills exceeds the available money then ranchers will be reimbursed at less than market rate.
Ranchers aren’t paid for injured livestock, Uriarte said. Nor are they paid for the additional animals those killed could have birthed. Or for livestock pregnancies that end prematurely due to the stress of wolf packs living nearby.
Idaho has another $139,000 from that federal grant, Uriarte said, which can supplement ranchers’ efforts to prevent wolf attacks.
Trail cameras, noisemakers, alert systems and even additional hands on the ranch, can qualify for that reimbursement, Edmondson said.
Even more money could be available in Colorado, Malone said. Not only are those federal grants available but the state earmarks more than $1.2 million each year to reimburse ranchers and farmers for livestock killed by wildlife and prevention methods.
In 2019, Colorado Parks and Wildlife received $1.28 million for that purpose and spent just over half at $686,291, budget documents show.
That money can’t currently be used for wolf attacks, Malone said, but a small tweak to the language behind the funding could allow it. In addition, other resources like nonprofits exist to teach ranchers how to be more sustainable and avoid conflicts with wolves, she said.
“Your life has to change a little,” Malone said of ranchers. “It doesn’t have to change that much and it will change for the better.”
But without additional money, staff or a management plan in place, Colorado Species Conservation Program Manager Eric Odell said options are limited in the short term.
State officials can loan out some prevention equipment and help ranchers put it to use, Odell said. They also offer money for livestock killed by wildlife.
“Beyond that there aren’t other tools available,” he said.
Currently, state and local officials are operating under the emergency hazing rules approved in January. That isn’t an all-encompassing plan but it’ll have to do until the broader management plan is finished.
Odell said that plan is still under development and he hopes for final approval by May 2023. Proposition 114 requires state officials to begin physically reintroducing wolves by the end of next year. Over two years Colorado will reintroduce 30 to 40 wolves to the Western Slope.
For context, Uriarte said 35 wolves were reintroduced into Idaho between 1995 and 1996.
Since then the population has grown to over 1,000.
Malone said the committees in charge are stacked in the favor of trappers, ranchers and the cattle industry. She complained of a lack of transparency in the process.
As Colorado’s wolf population grows, Phillips said state officials and ranchers will have more management options. At some point, they could even be taken off the state endangered species list.
Even so, they shouldn’t be killed or hunted, Malone said. She and Phillips condemned efforts in Idaho, Montana and Wyoming to kill the animals.
Hunters in Idaho can shoot or trap an unlimited number of wolves on private land, year-round. The state also pays some hunters for their kills. One person can kill up to 20 a year on Montana’s private lands. And Wyoming hosts unlicensed and unregulated hunting for the wolves across the majority of the state.
That sort of lethal control is unnecessary, Malone said. Wolf populations plateau once they reach a number in balance with their surroundings. Such will be the case in Colorado, she said.
The cattle industry has resources to help recoup losses and changes, she added. The recreation industry likely won’t be hurt either since risk to humans is more perception than reality.
Even the hunting industry should embrace the reintroduction, she said.
“Hunters should love wolves,” Malone said. “Over time, they’re responsible, genetically, for those big gorgeous bull elks they want. They take out the weak and leave the strong to breed.”
She pointed to the northern states, where wolves already live, as evidence.
“Nobody’s gone out of business because of wolves,” she said.
Those changes are a small price to pay for the benefits the wolves bring, Malone said. They can bring balance to Colorado’s ecosystem, long damaged by development, widespread ranching and uncontrolled grazing from wild animals like elk and deer.
Wolves will push those wild animals from one place to another, preventing overgrazing and allowing Colorado’s plant life to grow back stronger, Malone said.
Just look at Colorado’s “iconic” aspen groves, she said.
The state’s aspen population is rapidly declining, largely due to climate change, experts say.
But overgrazing by wild animals is also a factor, Malone said. And because wolves force those animals, like elk, deer and even some livestock, to keep on the move, they can give forests, pastures and waterways time and space to recover.
Studies by Colorado State University and the National Parks Service, bolster the argument.
As the state’s plant life recovers, so too will its bird and small mammal populations, Malone said. And ultimately the large mammal population will grow stronger as well.
Wolves serve as an integral part of a broader ecological recovery effort, Malone said. They, like ranchers, scientists, government officials and more, all play a part.
Gittleson said he’s willing to work with state officials but without a stronger management plan, including a lethal option, he remains skeptical that Colorado’s soon-to-be-larger wolf population can be controlled.
Southwest of town, along Colorado 14, lies an ocean of snow-covered pastures speckled with animal tracks of every kind. Moose hunker down in the marshy lowlands. Walden residents say it’s only a matter of time until wolves move that way too.
Along that highway sits another sign, one that speaks to the livelihood of Walden’s ranchers and also, it seems, to the wolves living in the area. It reads: “Beef, it’s what’s for dinner.”
