The Confluence Summer 2019
From The Director Ah, summer…it seems to be the shortest season (and the busiest season) in Montana, and it certainly has been here at Swan Valley Connections. For us, it’s a time to celebrate and share this wild and beautiful place we live with our families, old friends, and new friends to the valley. We began the summer with welcoming a brilliant, diverse class of Wildlife in the West students who came from all over the country and had transformative experiences as they learned about the wildlife of Montana, life in the Swan Valley, and perspectives of people all around the Crown of the Continent ecosystem. They ended their class with an interpretive hike for our staff and explained not just the habits and habitats of local flora and fauna, but also about how much their perspectives and lives had bloomed like the bear grass this year. Summer Solstice brought not only our longest day of the year, but also our first annual Summer Soirée in the Swan, a fundraising celebration featuring a local vibe and an international flair! We welcomed neighbors from our valley along with new friends from all around, including Missoula, the Flathead and Mission Valleys, and as far away as Sweden! We’re so grateful that our place and our organization are important to so many people! Locally inspired cocktails made with spirits from Coram’s own Glacier Distilling along with brews from Great Northern Brewing Co. in Whitefish were offered. A Latin American themed dinner, made with Montana grown food, was served by Earth Angel Organics from Hungry Horse. Desserts ranging from huckleberry cheesecake to “Finnish Delights” were home made by incredible supporters and auctioned off by local personality, Rip Grubaugh, and a live auction of amazing art, experiences and more followed. Creative silent auction items were also donated to help fund our operation. Finally, Cocinando Latin Jazz Orchestra lit up the night with their fiery music, getting all bodies out on the dance floor. Barbara and Mike Smith and their family made the whole night possible by hosting us at their magical Falls Creek Ranch. Tucked into the trees at the end of Kauffman Road, the lodge features ancient larch logs wider than an eagle’s wingspan and expansive views of the Swan Range across the pond, which is surrounded by cozy log cabins. We are so happy they’ve opened this beautiful venue to the public for events and overnight lodging! We’ve continued the summer celebration of fun and learning with welcoming our inaugural Master Naturalist class. You’ll find out more about this wonderful program later in the newsletter. New friends from around the state and as far as Kansas City came to learn about the natural world around them. As our instructor Rob Rich says, “There’s a naturalist deep within each and every one of us.” He’s right! And lastly, as we entered into midsummer, we hosted a day of the International Seminar on Protected Area Management, where we got to share what we are up to in the Swan and exchange ideas about communities, coexistence, and the road to co-management with folks from around the world. Jim Burchfield fills us in on the program in this issue of The Confluence. Not only was I gifted a special handmade dress from Senegal, but I was also gifted with the perspectives of educators and resource managers from across the globe. Warmly,
Swan Valley Connections 6887 MT Highway 83 Condon, MT 59826 p: (406) 754-3137 f: (406) 754-2965 info@svconnections.org
Board Members Barbara Hill Raible, Chair Helene Michael, Vice Chair Alex Metcalf, Treasurer Larry Garlick Pam Hamilton Kathleen Richardson Casey Ryan Mark Schiltz Mary Shaw Rich Thomason Scott Tomson
Emeritus Russ Abolt Anne Dahl Steve Ellis Neil Meyer
Advisory Board Kvande Anderson Jim Burchfield Andrea Stephens Mark Vander Meer
Staff Rebecca Ramsey, Executive Director Jonathan Bowler Laura Cannon Andrea DiNino Leanna Grubaugh Luke Lamar Mike Mayernik Rob Rich Uwe Schaefer Lindsay Wancour The Confluence is published by Swan Valley Connections, a non-profit organization situated in Montana’s scenic Swan Valley. Our mission is to conserve the intact ecosystems within and surrounding the Swan Valley and to strengthen the connection between people and the natural world through collaboration and experiential learning. Images by Swan Valley Connections’ staff, students, or volunteers unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved to Swan Valley Connections. Change service requested.
SwanValleyConnections.org Rebecca Ramsey, Executive Director
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Cover Image: Alex Mazarr (Wildlife in the West 2019) crossing Jim Creek by Andrea DiNino
Photos from Summer Soirée in the Swan, our first annual fundraising gala held at Falls Creek Ranch in Condon.
Farewell, but not Goodbye! Longtime Board Member and friend of Swan Valley Connections and its founding organizations, Juanita Vero, has stepped down from her seat as Vice Chair of Swan Valley Connections’ Executive Board and stepped into the role of Missoula County Commissioner. Juanita is a fourth generation partner of the E Bar L Guest Ranch in Greenough, MT and a committed conservationist. The new position marks her first time serving in public office, or working in an office at all. Far more experienced in the saddle riding through the Blackfoot Valley hills than behind a computer screen in an office chair, she’s ready for a new adventure in public service. Along with her partnership with the E Bar L Ranch, she also served as chairwoman of the Montana Conservation Voters’ Board of Directors for 10 years. We will miss Juan’s enthusiasm for life, her leadership and vision within the organization, and her infectious laughter! And, we are so proud that she is stepping into the role of representing her rural constituents in Missoula County and grateful she will remain a friend of the organization. She plans to run for election by popular vote in November 2020.
Photo by Tom Bauer, left to right: Commissioner Fellow Executive Board Member Helene Michael of Condon has been Josh Slotnick, Mary Vero, Louis Vero, Juanita appointed to the Vice Chair seat through the end of 2019. Vero, Commissioner Dave Strohmaier.
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Conservation is Not What I Wanted it to Look Like By Emma Ciafone, Wildlife in the West 2019 I felt silly to be biting my lip and holding back tears. “Stop crying,” I told myself, making it become a mantra in my head…“Stop crying.” Now, the love in my heart for sweet Colorado will always itch for the waters of Montana. My first experiences with the state led me to great glacial lakes atop a large paddle board, and those memories keep me drawn back to Montana each summer. Thus, I joined in my peers’ excitement as we were invited onto a boat during our Mission Valley camping trip. The Confederated Salish & Kootenai Tribes (CSKT) so graciously brought us on board to see first-hand their strategic efforts to restore the native bull trout population through managing the population of mackinaw (lake trout), who had been introduced by human efforts, and subsequently fed mysis shrimp to the point where they have become a major threat to native fish.
I sat on the edge of the boat next to Tatum as we smiled for photos; the wind blew our hair over our eyes as the boat sped across the water, breaking its placidity. I stretched my hand below the deck to feel the water’s cool spray, mistakenly drenching the bandage covering my blister. But I did not mind because the joy of the water and excitement over being a part of something this positive was engulfing. A ‘win-win-win’ you could say, the CSKT found a way of supporting their native and culturally significant bull trout while providing ethically sourced food and gaining revenue, all while bringing the community together. I happily put on plastic gloves and prepared to be involved in the harvesting of lake trout. We sat and watched the fishermen work first, reeling in their 900-foot net from the depths most inhabited by lake trout. And it was as I watched their contorted bodies being pulled through the net and thrown onto ice that my excitement for the day began to falter, and I began to cry. And so I wondered about this. Because I eat fish, and these fish have a free life in a lake with some of the arguably best conditions before being harvested, and this system aids in native species populations, as well as communitysourced conservation. And so I felt silly to be crying, and I felt
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disrespectful. Yet, as I watched the fish gasp for air atop tubs of ice, I couldn’t help but feel a pain deep within me. Their eyes seemed stark, and their breathless gasps seemed to fill them with innocence instead of oxygen. And although millions of fish are harvested every week, I felt for these lake trout. For their only crime was to exist alongside the ignorance of humans. These fish were placed by us, fed mysis shrimp by us, and now face the repercussions of our actions. I do not want this to be misinterpreted. I in no way oppose fishing, and I greatly support the CSKT and their efforts to manage and restore fish populations. Yet, I cannot ignore the debt I feel towards these fish. And this experience has bolstered my conviction to work in conservation. But, more than that, it taught me that conservation is not just what I want it to look like and not just what I want it to be. I realized that this is all a work in progress. Just as we as individuals learn from our mistakes, conservation must as well. Because conservation is a living being all on its own. Successfully, it is made of all of us, communities coming together, ever growing and changing. You see, before I came here, I had this grand idea of what conservation was and how I fit into it. But conservation is not just an idea, existing within a vacuum. And conservation is not what an ignorant, albeit dreamy, college student may have conjured up in her head. I have found conservation to be a mass uniting factor, the utter entity of everyone’s experiences. It is the mosaic of the trapper, the hiker, the business man, the explorer and the farrier. I now see that I have witnessed an underlying culture of exclusivity in my formal education of conservation. But conservation is not what I had painted it to look like. And successful conservation is having a seat for everyone at the table. Effective conservation is humanity coming together as one, recognizing the grand connection we all hold and supporting one another, learning from our pasts and valuing the lesson rather than focusing on shame or disgrace. Because at the heart of conservation is accepting our situation, and holding hands together in unison agreeing to grow.
Tom Parker told us one night that if you do not value something, you just don’t understand it. Wildlife in the West has taught me to value the complex geodes of conservation. It taught me how dire it can be to look at our current situation, but also how crucial it is to value all the steps that got us here and to look bravely into the future. From kidney stones to mosquitos to loons, Wildlife in the West has taught me to value it all - or at least to grow and try to understand it. And, at the end of the day, conservation really is trying to understand, trying to understand the natural world, the other, the future. As I journey on, I will find solace in knowing I share this journey with Peytons, Tatums, Aarons, Alexes, Bruces, Elis, and all our amazing instructors and community here at SVC. Because we are conservation, and what I have experienced here is exactly what I want conservation to look like. Photo to the right: Wildlife in the West 2019 Top row (left to right): Alex Mazaar, Resident Education Assistant Eli Estey, Emma Ciafone, Bruce Montgomery, Bottom row (left to right): Peyton Loss, Aaron Altier, Tatum McConnell
How to Spend Time in the Woods, With the Woods By Laura Cannon
Sitting back at home where it was dry, I tried to put what I had seen down on paper.
There was a light, cool rain as I slowly sauntered along a creek bottom within the area once touched by the Rice Ridge Fire. Donning my felt hat, rain jacket, and a mesh bag, I was looking for the highly coveted morel mushroom. During the first spring post-fire, they were easy to spot, but the year after featured a blanket of young, immature plants yet to come to fruition. You really had to gently brush the biomass out of the way to be able to spot the mushrooms, and while they were few and far between, the new community of life that had taken over the charred surface fascinated me. Upon closer inspection, the dense regrowth was like a micro-rainforest with a floor of extremely variable mosses. I took a few mental notes of the most common plants I saw for later documentation, as the thought came to mind: “I’d field journal that.” I spent some time over the next few days just illustrating what I had seen. I worried less about trying to identify everything and worked more on what facts I knew about the individual plants like leaf pattern, color, and so on. I added labels for each item that I remembered seeing. This practice of observation ^ reflection ^ expression helped lock in my mind my observations that day from the cool, wet forest. It may seem daunting to consider taking the time to sketch out your surroundings, record observations with several questions for later research, or simply write about things you saw in nature, but trust me on this one—there are many benefits to keeping a field/nature journal. Not only does it provide something to look back on that is better than an Instagram or Facebook post, but it provides the experience of slowing down and reflecting on those observations, which will ultimately strengthen the connection you have with your local flora, fauna, and landscape. Continued on page 7
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I, Naturalist: Ten Students Certified in SVC’s Master Naturalist Program By Rob Rich “It looks sort of like a little white apple,” said one student from our recent Master Naturalist class, admiring a peculiar growth attached to a leaf. “But it’s attached like a wart to a willow,” said another. Then, on a hunch that the unique feature in question might be as much linked to an insect as a plant, we halved the spherical growth with a sharp knife, only to find several dark specks like finely ground pepper, and one writhing, legless white creature with a dark head. Hooked, we then turned to the field guide, hoping to piece together the mysterious identity by describing the parts we knew. And soon enough, we had it: none other than the willow apple leaf gall, with a sawfly larvae inside. This common name may not seem too inventive, but it’s pretty close to what we might have called it. And of course, we were not only seeking the name, but we were also participating in the process that’s familiar to most naturalists: first, curiosity drives us towards a fresh observation; second, we describe what we see with connections to what we (think we) know; and third, we strive to interpret form and function. And, more often than not, this interpretation will surface a new question or curiosity and so… we begin the process again. Over the course of six days in midJuly, the ten students in our debut Master Naturalist class got plenty of time with this process. Along with the four other nonprofit organizations who are certified to offer Master When the right insect secretes its specialized chemical into the right plant, the plant’s Naturalist training in Montana, our goal was tissues may erupt in an abnormal growth called a gall. While galls may diminish a few to help students grow fundamental skills in of the plant’s resources, they don’t normally kill the plant. Gall-inducing insects like this observation, inquiry, and interpretation, with sawfly are furnished with an extraordinary microhabitat that offers the food and safety the hope that each student might go home required to transition from larvae to adult. This sawfly larvae has eaten all the resources out of its gall, leaving behind only some specks of insect poop, called frass. empowered to understand, appreciate, and conserve the landscapes they love. These skills are inside each and every one of us, and glacial history, and smaller yet still significant forces, like those their applications are not limited to the Swan Valley; we had a that deformed the leaf of a willow. few local students, but we also had folks hailing from Bozeman, Between forces big and small, our students learned Kansas, Minnesota, and even Japan. What SVC offered was a that natural history skills can indeed help us to classify “what” place-based, immersive field experience to catalyze our innate species we see – by observing anatomy, habitat, and behavior. natural curiosities, ground-truth the field guides, and model But they also learned that natural history does not end there; ways to practice natural history in the remarkably diverse it is a journey of discovery that includes the “where” and the ecosystems we’re lucky to have in our home. “when,” the “how” and the “why” – those more challenging Starting amidst whitebark pines high on Napa Ridge, questions that explore the relationships among species and we progressively descended for time spent in moist spruce-fir their roles in ecosystems. To make all these connections, our and cedar forests, then among drier ponderosa pine forests, students used simple natural history tools to deepen their and ultimately in the Swan’s precious creeks and wetlands. awareness – like microscopes, binoculars, field guides, and This elevational approach allowed our students to see how our dichotomous keys – alongside the most valuable tools of all, landscape is shaped by big-picture forces, like our climate and their own five senses and field journals.
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To close out the course, each student gave a short presentation applying their newly-honed naturalist skills to topics of personal intrigue, ranging from the resilience of fireweed to the ways that long-departed glaciers had shaped a home mountain range. These presentations were beyond astounding, not only for the new insights each student shared about the wonders of nature at work right under their feet, but also for the curiosity and the questions they’d carry home. And, by slowing down to deeply ask, observe, connect, and care about these wonders, each student embraced the confidence to say, “Yes, I am a naturalist, too.”
Congratulations to Yuki, Steve, Becka, Kathy, Beth, Kathryn, Sally, David, Annie, and Tina…our 2019 Master Naturalist graduates! We can’t wait to have more join the ranks in the seasons to come.
How to Spend Time in the Woods, With the Woods, Cont’D Another benefit of keeping a field journal is the aspect of record keeping. If you were to start a new bird log each spring that records the date in which each species arrives at your home, you might notice some interesting trends over time. Take Billy Barr for example, the recluse who has lived in an offgrid cabin in Colorado by his lonesome the last 40+ years. He has recorded daily temperatures and snow depths, as well as bird and mammal sightings, over that time period. His insightful records are perceived as a treasure trove in the scientific community, because machines just can’t collect data like that. And just imagine how well he knows the place he calls home! You don’t need to be an off-grid recluse to enjoy the benefits of field journaling. All you need is a blank book of any kind and a pencil or pen to start. You can take your journaling materials with you and sit down with them on a hike or even in your backyard. If conditions are unfavorable, take mental notes or photos to work with later. Focus on whatever piques your interest. Feel free to illustrate your surroundings or simply write about them. Be as objective or perceptive as you’d like. For those who feel as though they just can’t draw but want to, try to remember that being able to replicate the exact shape of an object on a sheet of paper isn’t necessarily what makes an artist. Add the date, location, weather, and any other pertinent information that will connect you back with your experience. Don’t forget to have fun with it! Happy journaling! To the right: Wildlife in the West student Emma Ciafone identifying and field journaling a lupine leaf.
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The Naturalist Mindset:
how our methods of observing nature can inform the ways we protect it By Tatum McConnell, Wildlife in the West 2019 The first thing I learned in Wildlife in the West was to slow down. My arrival through the barn door came only three days after my last final, the frantic energy of New York City still the metaphorical fuel for my flight home and the one day, nine hour drive to Condon. Soon we were out with Laura, field journals and plant ID guides in hand simply to observe, draw, and learn in a far more deep and lasting way than I was used to. While not the main focus of this essay, our first days tracking were truly an epiphany in and of themselves. The wealth of knowledge an old dirt road held was breathtaking. I’m embarrassed to say this now, but I truly had a sneaking suspicion that Luke had been out the night before planting the tracks! The idea that I could look at a road and realize bears, coyotes, elk, deer, and wolves had also been there within the past week or so was a revelation. Not to mention even grander forces at work—fire, snow, the glaciers of an ice age long past that all had their mark on the land. I’ve always loved the outdoors and spent time hiking, backpacking, and climbing my whole life. However, the vast majority of the time, the nature I professed to love so deeply was a mere backdrop to another goal—climb this mountain, swim in that lake, see this view. It often meant me with my head down, heavy pack on, earbuds in. That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with that, but when it came to truly understanding the pristine natural landscape I was surrounded by, I was missing out on a lot. I filled a number of pages in my Rite in the Rain notebook in just one interpretive hike with Luke through the woods. That day I realized every shrub, stone, and impression in the road contained a story that could be explored for a lifetime. It was an overload of information in the most beautiful and exciting way. From that day on I knew I wanted to look at nature in a new way, through the eyes of a naturalist. I think that view is centered in the idea of ecology. As one simply passing through you can see the beauty of a mountain, a tree, an elk—but you can’t comprehend how it all fits together without deep observation. I truly feel that with a notebook and pencil in hand to keep a record of what I learn, I could happily spend an entire day in one patch of grass, watching the minute dramas of the micro-world unfold. But those dramas are micro in only a physical scale. While out looking at tracks with Rob, I spent
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about twenty minutes watching the true histrionics of two tiny green inch worms. With all sincerity, their movements and behaviors in that time told stories worthy of the MET Opera stage or the pentameter of an ancient Greek poem. The twigs and pine needles they crawled across were a battle field, a scarred, jagged, and danger filled landscape with no easy routes available. Upon reaching the end of the tiny precipice they had trusted their life with they’d push themselves out into a vast emptiness, mere millimeters of their body left on the platform behind them. Like the periscope of a lost submarine turning desperately to find land they’d rotate themselves, seeking their next razor thin path. These were methodical, careful little animals. When a next path was unavailable or a roadblock too great they’d stop, dead still. Were they simply thinking about their next move? Contemplating capitulating to the wild and cruel whims of a universe that had left them without a clear next step? Most often they’d back track, retracing steps to find an alternative route. What does this do to their sense of time and place in the world? The repetition of paths once travelled crossed again, a constant rewinding of the clock to an earlier life. They must exist in a deep-green sea of time, not a river rushing to a distant future as we so often do. Their movements in proximity to one another were even more fascinating. Most often they’d meet and be knocked off a twig by what I thought was mere accident— my observations leading me to believe that they were blind. Two star-crossed lovers in the Shakespearian sense, meeting in sudden and complete bliss, a love passionate as a tempest, doomed to become their own demise—their fall a moment akin to Orpheus looking back at Eurydice, dooming her to the abyss that lay below. Or perhaps they were competitors? Meeting on that craggy and violent landscape to pronounce the superiority of their genetic make up and continued survival. This isn’t even to mention the carpenter ant that came through, passing mere inches away, a narrow miss with a true antediluvian behemoth in the face of the two delicate and brightly colored worms. Ok, so perhaps this got a little hyperbolic and a research scientist might say just a bit overly anthropomorphic, but with a story this deep and intense waiting in every three inch strip of a wheel rut how could one even begin to crack the surface of all that’s there to be learned? Well, first by spending 15,000+ years here. We learned
from Casey Ryan, the hydrologist for the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes about the ways indigenous tribes were able to put together seemingly random events across the landscape in a way that informed the movements and actions of their lives. For example: when the chokecherry blooms, it’s eight days until the bison drop their calves and time to head toward the plains for hunting. But for us as individuals, it means going out into nature with a completely open mind, ready to observe and learn. Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Nature Observation and Tracking offers incredible advice in this area. I was glad I read his first chapter early in the program, because I think it set me up with the perfect mindset for success learning in this landscape. As I said earlier, he writes about slowing down. Inspired directly from the subtitles of chapter one, Pathways to Nature, Tom Brown suggests this:
1. Entering the natural world with no preconceived notions of what one might find there. 2. Forgetting about labels and titles and taxonomic identifications. 3. Letting go of social inhibitions and fears born of pressure to do the “normal” thing while out in the woods. 4. Immersing yourself in the perspective nature offers. 5. Momentarily ignoring the cold and the rain. 6. And paramount to all else, learning from what surrounds you. Returning from the Rocky Mountain Front and Blackfoot Watershed I was happy with the knowledge I had gained from different perspectives and those engaged with community-based conservation. However, I was ready to get back to the “real nature,” the ecology and natural knowledge I had latched onto so firmly in our first few days. I found myself
thinking back to those naturalist lessons Tom Brown had taught me, and hang on, those suggestions for natural observation have to do with far more than watching insects or observing tracks. Those lessons were exactly what a week immersed in community conservation and stakeholder perspectives had taught me. Let’s run through those again:
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.
Entering the world with no preconceived notions. Forgetting about labels. Letting go of social inhibitions and fears. Immersing yourself in a new perspective. Momentarily ignoring discomforts. And paramount to all else, learning from what surrounds you.
This sounds like a recipe for some excellent communitycentered, divide-crossing, perspective-shifting work toward conservation. Leaving the Swan I go with a new mindset, the mindset of a naturalist. I know I’ll carry that out in my adventures outdoors and continue to learn from the landscapes I love. But as I go forward in my career, that time in nature will be practice for when the real work begins. From what I’ve seen here, successful collaboration with others (of sometimes starkly differing opinions) is the mark of lasting and fulfilling conservation. I aim to set forth with the mind of a naturalist, a mind always eager to learn, fully and deeply, from both the natural world and the people that surround it, and realize that ultimately, they are one and the same.
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Carnivore Monitoring Update and A Call for Support By Luke Lamar
Since the beginning of the Southwestern Crown Collaborative Carnivore Monitoring Project in 2012, Swan Valley Connections (SVC) has been collaborating annually with various partners to monitor rare carnivores. The scope of work and our partners have changed over time, leading to new and exciting research opportunities in 2019. In the 2012 pilot season, from January through March, SVC started to systematically survey the 1.5 million acre Southwestern Crown of the Continent landscape (SW Crown) for three focal species: lynx, wolverine, and fisher. We combined two non-invasive field methods to maximize our detection of these rare animals: bait stations and snow track surveys. We collected genetic material (hair, scat, or urine) left by these focal species on bait station hair snags or by following their tracks, and we would then send the samples to the U.S. Forest Service (USFS) Rocky Mountain Research Station (RMRS) for genetic testing to identify species, sex, and specific individual. To put our work into context, there had never been a systematic survey for these rare carnivores within the SW Crown landscape. Over a three year period we detected 32 unique individual wolverines and 39 lynx from 2013-2016 across our research area. Not only did we discover the minimum abundance, but we also now knew where these species were detected and how they were distributed across the landscape. One of the primary goals of the project was to collect this baseline information, so we could then use that data to help land managers make informed, science-based decisions. Systematically surveying the landscape would allow us or others to repeat the surveys in the future to track how land management and natural disturbances like wildfire affect these species over time. In 2019 SVC once again adapted its expertise to address research and monitoring needs in a new, exciting partnership with RMRS and The Nature Conservancy of Montana. RMRS Wildlife Biologist Dr. John Squires has been conducting lynx research in the Seeley Lake region for the past 25 years, documenting how lynx respond to management actions as well as wildfires. With his long-term datasets, the 2017 Rice Ridge (160,000 acres) and Liberty Fires (29,000 acres) provided opportunities to study how lynx use habitat soon after large wildfires as well as over time as forests regenerate; we would also be able to look at how salvage logging operations affect
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this use, as there is currently no scientific data available to help inform this practice in burned areas that also serve as lynx habitat. Dr. Squires’ crews live-trapped and put GPS collars on several lynx in the Rice Ridge Fire and Liberty Fire areas in 2018 and 2019, and they are repeating collaring efforts this year. To advance Dr. Squires’ research project, SVC filled another need by providing an experienced crew who could backtrack lynx and wolverine within these burn perimeters to help calibrate and ground-truth the GPS collar data (and perform vegetation plots to collect habitat use data along their tracks).
Mike Mayernik tracking in the Liberty Fire area.
In order to conduct these winter surveys, SVC crews log thousands of miles on snowmobiles every season, as well as hundreds of additional miles on snowshoes. Over the years our snowmobile fleet has aged, and we are now putting more money into maintenance than the machines themselves are worth. We need your help to replenish our snowmobile fleet before the 2020 winter field season begins! If you have a snowmobile that you’d like to donate to SVC, or would like to help us fund the purchase of new snowmobiles, please contact us. Not only are your cash or equipment donations tax-deductible, but more importantly they will help with the long-term monitoring and conservation of these incredible species. Thank you for your support! Pictures captured by renowned photographer Steven Gnam during this project timeframe were recently published in an article in National Geographic: on.natgeo.com/2XJhmYQ
International Seminar on Protected Area Management Visits SVC By Jim Burchfield
On July 19th Swan Valley Connections hosted a visit by 27 conservation leaders from nations around the world to share experiences on engaging local residents in the management and protection of forests, watersheds, and wildlife. The International Seminar on Protected Area Management is an intensive, three week training and cultural exchange program organized jointly by the University of Montana’s W.A. Franke College of Forestry and Conservation and the International Programs Office of the U.S. Forest Service. The program participants, from nations including Zambia, Armenia, Cambodia, Bangladesh, South Africa, Uzbekistan, Senegal, Dominican Republic, Georgia, Kenya, Guinea, and Eritrea, examine strategies for natural resource management across Montana so that they may return to their home countries with new ideas to address the challenges facing the world’s most special places.
Aug 7 Community Potluck Dinner Swan Lands Coordinating Network Aug 26-nov 1 Landscape & Livelihood
The group decided to work with Swan Valley Connections because of its recognition that community participation in land management decisions offers the key to resource protection and sustainable use. SVC Director Rebecca Ramsey and SVC Conservation Director Luke Lamar offered brief presentations to the international visitors on their successful programs in community engagement and wildlife monitoring, serving as touchstones for the group to identify their own techniques for generating broad-based support for resource protection. For example, Tawonga Ng’Ambi of South Africa described how her agency developed children’s stories about a baby rhinoceros to attract families of local villages to learn how these severely threatened species might better survive. Others observed how the social and community events hosted by SVC might be relevant and valuable models that could energize their local organizations. In addition to the full day of interaction with SVC staff, the International Seminar visited Waterton/Glacier National Park, the Flathead and Lolo National Forests, and the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. The group will close their program with four days in Washington D.C. to establish stronger connections with international conservation organizations and Forest Service staff working on protected area management projects overseas. Leadership for the International Seminar is provided by two faculty members from the University of Montana, Drs. Keith Bosak and Jennifer Thomsen.
Coming Up
Aug 28 Mid-Swan Project Field Trip
oct 2 Community Potluck Dinner Ungulates
Sept 4 Community Potluck Dinner Historical Timeline of the CSKT
Nov 6 Community Potluck Dinner Beaver Ecology
Wish List • • • •
• Cloth tablecloths Two snowmobiles Enclosed snowmobile trailer • Projector • Adult and children’s Reliable 4WD vehicle waders Stand-up desks
SVC is proud to be a part of the 1% for the Planet network, which connects businesses and nonprofits to protect the planet. If you own a business, consider joining 1% for the Planet and naming SVC as your beneficiary. Everyone wins! For more information please visit
www.onepercentfortheplanet.org.
Help sustain conservation and stewardship in the Swan at
www.swanvalleyconnections.org/giving 11
6887 MT Hwy 83 Condon, MT 59826-9005
CHANGE SERVICE REQUESTED
“After my experience as a Wildlife in the West student in 2017, I had been waiting for the chance to make my return to the Swan Valley. Coming to work with SVC as the Resident Education Assistant (REA) was the perfect opportunity. In my time as a student with SVC, I was able to see the true value of community-based conservation, and what it really takes to put forth new ideas and practices to help humans and wildlife persist on this landscape in a mutually beneficial manner. Coming back to the valley in a new position, I was able to not only apply the knowledge I had gained from the program into aiding this year’s class, but to also have the chance to experience the courses once more through the eyes of six new students. Seeing them each transfrom throughout the program was extremely special, and I’m very thankful to have had the opportunity.” Eli Estey
NON-PROFIT ORG U.S. POSTAGE PAID CONDON, MT PERMIT #16