hiking | Leslie Patten Books: Wild Places, Sacred Spaces

Winter, climate, and wildlife

Posted on December 7, 2025 by Leslie

Winter is slowly creeping in. Our temps are above normal for December ( daytime 30s and some 40s) but the wind has been arctic fierce. So different than when I first moved here in 2006. December wasn’t always our snowiest month, but definitely our coldest. Back in December fifteen years ago was when I first experienced a -35 degree night. I learned the trick of throwing a cup of boiling water in the air and watching it quickly vaporize.

Cold temperatures aren’t as tough on the wildlife as deep deep snow is. Deer aren’t very equipped to handle six foot or more snow that doesn’t get windblown. They can’t paw through it. In places like Jackson WY with tremendous amounts of snow, as winter arrives elk move in but deer migrate south. Even that pattern is an anomaly. Elk that summered in the Jackson area used to head to southern Wyoming and as far south as the Red Desert for winter. But as the town grew in the early 1900s, elk abandoned their annual migration and fed on the stored hay of cattle ranchers. To mitigate this, the federal government set up the National Elk Refuge. The Refuge began artificial feeding of elk in winter, luring them away from local ranches. Over time these elk lost their traditional migration memory and they now stay in Jackson, fed on the Refuge and several other sites.

Deer don’t usually like to hang with elk. I’m not sure why. Yet in tough winters, I’ve watched deer stick near the outside of large herds of elk. Hundreds of elk in wind blown areas not only tamp down the snow but can use their long powerful legs to scrape areas clear, helping deer out.

Winter of 2016-17 was epic. Many deer died from starvation

Deer struggling in deep snow

Moose on the other hand are built for deep snow. The winter of 2016 was a doozy, with epic amounts of snow. With 6 feet on the level in my front yard, I once watched a moose and her calf easily plow through. No other wildlife could manage. That winter was hard on our migratory mule deer herd. Deer are faithful to their home ranges. They were starving, and when the first grasses poked through the snow, they ate voraciously. The game warden told me those first shoots have little nutrition, so although they were filling up they died quickly. Hiking around the valley in April, I kept finding dead deer that no predator had touched, only their eyes pecked out. In contrast, elk are not so faithful and most of the herd descended into the lower elevations to escape the deep snows. Where we once had 2000 elk in winter, the last count was about half that. I suspect a lot of those elk kept that different migratory pattern finding how it benefitted them .

Wolves seem very fit for cold and snow. I can remember watching my dog sink in snow while following tracks of wolves that were gliding on top. Even at 100+ pounds and large paws, they are built to cover long distances and deep snow.

Our climate is changing, and fast. In the 18 years I’ve lived here full time, I’ve watched dramatic changes in winter. Our winters are compressed and milder. Instead of a deeply frigid December, we have mild Decembers, usually with little snow. For the last 4 to 5 years, now February is our coldest month. One February a few years ago the temperatures didn’t crack zero all month. Snows are late. There’s still snow accumulation in the high country (8000-10,000 feet), but lower elevations 6000-8000 feet have droughty conditions. That means come spring and summer, smaller creeks and drainages that used to supply wildlife with water dry up quickly. Sustained cold temperatures (negative 30s for several weeks) that used to kill beetle larvae in winter are no longer. Instead, between drought, beetles, and budworm moths, our forests are full of dead trees with a ground cover maze of downed logs, impassable for wildlife and humans.

Changing climate means we have to account for changes that wildlife will need to sustain themselves. That means protected landscapes and corridors for passage.

Filed under: New ideas | Tagged: adventure, hiking, nature, travel, Wildlife, winter, yellowstone | Leave a comment »

Hiking Northwest Wyoming – Dream Lake Wind River Mountains

Posted on July 4, 2025 by Leslie

THIS IS THE FIRST OF A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES AND MEMORIES FROM MY YEARS LIVING IN NORTHWEST WYOMING.

IN 2012 I hiked to Dream Lake. Dream Lake is an access point to the central Continental Divide in the Wind Rivers. I planned a 7 day backpack loop with a side trip up to Europe Canyon. The Europe Canyon trail access wasn’t marked. Instead a cryptic sign said “trail abandoned” and there was no map indication of where to turn. But using some map navigating, this was the correct route to the lake.

Cryptic Sign to Europe Lake. “Trail Abandoned. Not Maintained”

Taking the abandoned trail, I arrived at Europe Lake, a beautiful gem that sits at the base of the crest of the Continental Divide. A fire on the east side made for a smokey view. Two backpackers from London were camped there. Experienced hikers, they’d cross-countried to the lake. They shared some stories with me of their travels. Because in England they received six weeks work vacation every summer, they had some great adventures. One story they relayed stood out of when they’d rescued inexperienced and unprepared hikers from severe altitude sickness in the Himalayas.

Two young men were hiking with a woman. All three were huddling in a rest cabin at over 15,000 feet. The woman had severe altitude sickness, yet the fellows were planning on continuing without her. This woman would die if she couldn’t get to a lower elevation immediately. These British backpackers changed their itinerary and assisted her down the mountain for medical care.

British hikers who rescued a woman in the Himalayas

That night I returned towards the main trail and camped among the rocks near timberline. I awakened in the middle of the night to a strange loud animal sound which I couldn’t place. Come morning I checked the tracks on the trail and felt it must have been a single domestic sheep looking for the rest of its herd. Domestic sheep have since been removed from the Winds Wilderness areas.

On my final evening I camped with a group of retired Air Force. They’d hiked along the Divide from the south end, probably starting at Sweetwater Gap entrance. One fellow had joined the crew from Ohio and didn’t take the time to acclimate. He had terrible altitude sickness, throwing up and splitting headaches. I suppose it ruined his trip. By the time I camped with them, he’d pretty much acclimated. He’s not the first person I’ve encountered in the Winds that had altitude sickness. Taking time to acclimate can be essential.

A lake not far from Dream Lake. Lone horseback rider

But the real story here is when I made it to the take-out where my car was waiting. We all hiked down together. As the Air Force guys were meeting their ride and I too was packing up, a backpacker who was loaded up with heavy gear came down the trail followed by a Labrador Retriever. That poor dog looked half crippled limping slowly all the way to the vehicle.

I asked this hiker where he’d come from. Most backpackers only do a few days and their dogs do just fine as long as their feet are protected when necessary.

“I’ve been out a month. It’s been fantastic. I’ve hike the entire Winds,” he answered. I asked how old his dog was. “Eleven”, he said. And when I told him his dog looked in very poor shape, he just replied “He’s fine.”

I felt angry. Eleven years is old for a Lab and that dog was not fine. He was suffering. His feet and joints hurt, and his owner was being completely insensitive to his dog’s needs, thinking only of himself.

There’s a few lessons here. People tend to be worried about grizzly bears in Northwest Wyoming. But they’re not the worry. Mosquitos, insufficient preparation, overdoing it yourself or to your pets are more to the point. Be safe and enjoy out there.

My dog and I at Europe Lake in the Wind River Mountains

Filed under: New ideas | Tagged: adventure, altitude-sickness, backpacking, Bears, hiking, hiking-with-dogs, nature, travel | 1 Comment »

Foraging with Bears

Posted on May 30, 2025 by Leslie

Today I took a hike along a high reef, or what they call here in NW Wyoming a “reef”, probably because at one time this limestone plateau was under one of the oceans that covered this area. It’s a flat mesa with cliffs to one side and forested ridges on the other. The soil as you can image is very thin, but allows a sparse forest of lodgepole pines and open meadows. It’s a great place to see wildflowers right now, especially before the cattle come in to free range the area.

A known place for grizzlies in the spring and fall, Wyoming Game and Fish even use this area every 4 or 5 years to set traps to collar the bears. The hike begins on a closed dirt road (not open for vehicles until mid-July to protect the bears). Elk and grizzly tracks are easily visible.

Along the way I’m tasting the tips of young fireweed. Great crunchy texture, mild flavor until the very last then there’s a bitterness. Emerging Indian Paintbrush is also edible but pretty bitter all the way through. Vast carpets of my favorite, Spring Beauties, make a great salad addition.

We’ve had a cool and rainy May, inhibiting the emergence of a lot of spring flowers. But with the recent warm days, it seems everything is out all at once. Shooting stars, usually almost gone by now, are everywhere. Their flowers are delicious along with mountain bluebell flowers, both in the borage family and have that similar taste. White flowered onions and biscuit root (lomatian) are out. Larkspur, not edible but poisonous, is emerging. Larkspur is fatal to cattle. I’ve seen some years dozens of cattle die from eating larkspur on the national forests.

Some Pasque flowers (not edible), usually done by now, are still around, some even just opening. Even Phlox is still blooming. And my favorite shrub, Buffalo berries, are just leafing out. Buffalo berries are dioecious, meaning male and female reproductive structures are on separate individual plants, not a common thing in the plant world. I also spy some American Bistort just starting to bloom. Although I’ve never tried them, their roots can be dug and eaten raw. Arrowleaf balsamroot (supposedly starvation food for Natives), strawberries and fritallaria are all blooming. Non-edibles like woodland star are blooming and elephant’s head has sent its spike up, ready to open.

Lots of Woodland star mixed with larkspur

While I forage, a bear has been busy. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here. I think mama grizzly is clawing the bark on this tree to get at the sweet spring sap that’s flowing while her cub climbs up the tree. I’d normally say a black bear as adult grizzlies don’t climb, but this is a grizzly area and on the way up I ran into a black bear archery hunter with four llamas. He’s been camping on the reef for a few nights. He saw several grizzlies but no black bears. Black bears don’t hang around areas where there’s a lot of grizzlies.

On the plateau, a bear has been busy foraging for biscuit roots. I uses my knife to dig one up. Luckily the soil is soft since its been raining as these roots grow in tight dry soils. I have to dig pretty carefully and deep.

You can see how deep these bears have to dig in order to extract the whole root. Of course, with their long claws, that’s easy for them. Bears will till up an area with biscuit roots, a favorite treat. But they always leave some. That ensures more will come back next year.

So while we humans are foraging, bears are too. In past times, humans watched bears to see what foods were good to eat. 80% of a bear’s diet is edible for humans, The other 20% are grasses, which we cannot digest. Co-existence isn’t hard. We just have to take a cue from the bears and always make sure to leave some plants for next year’s harvest.

Filed under: New ideas | Tagged: bear-diet, Bears, edible-wildflowers, flowers, grizzlies, hiking, nature | Leave a comment »

The Infamous Ben Lily

Posted on March 3, 2025 by Leslie

I’m in the Silver City area for a few weeks waiting until March 15th when I am speaking at the Tucson Book Fair. Hiking around the Gila National Forest (our first Wilderness thanks to Aldo Leopold), I can’t help but contemplate Ben Lilly.

Ben Lily features prominently in the second chapter of my latest book Ghostwalker: Tracking a Mountain Lion’s Souls through Science and Story. Lily was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of 500 mountain lions, over 600 bears, and the last grizzlies in the Southwest. He was a predator-killing machine epitomizing the hatred for predators in the early 20th century.

Today I took a short hike to what locals call Ben Lilly Pond, a 1/2 mile turn-off from Highway 15 before the Ben Lily Memorial.

The Ben Lilly Memorial plaque in the Gila National Forest against a large boulder overlook. See the lion and bear on either side

At the age of forty-five, in 1901, Lilly called his second wife and three children together, kissed them goodbye, and left them everything he owned except five dollars. Leaving his home state of Louisiana, he headed west for a land where the big predators remained. His life philosophy was now well formed. He regarded himself as the policeman of the wild, “a self-appointed leavener of nature.” Bears and lions specifically were, by their very nature, evil. Lilly considered it his biblical duty to set things straight by killing these “devil” animals. He had evolved into a religious fanatic, mixed with a special kind of mysticism. As Lilly traveled west, he left behind a wake of wildlife destruction. But his folk-hero status was growing. While hunting in Texas in 1907, Lilly received a telegram summoning him to a presidential camp on Tensas Bayou for a bear hunt with President Theodore Roosevelt.

1908 *Scribner’s* article: Theodore Roosevelt “In the Louisiana Canebrakes,” *Scribner’s* XLIII (January 1908) Courtesy Avery Island Archives, Avery Island, La.

In 1908, Lilly hunted grizzlies, mountain lions, and black bears in Mexico for three years, sending skeletons and skins back to the Smithsonian Institution. He returned to the United States, entering through the boot heel of New Mexico. Now in his mid-fifties, his predator killing career was waxing as a new era of government eradication programs for predators began. His reputation was widespread, his services were in high demand among ranchers, and he was finally well paid for a passion previously pursued only as a personal vendetta.

On the road to Ben Lilly Pond. An old ranch entrance now shot full of bullet holes

When trailing with his dogs, Lilly would forget to eat and drink, sometimes for days on end. Then he’d gorge himself on his kill and the bit of corn meal he carried with him. He never kept the skins of the animals he killed for himself, considering them a worthless piece of clothing. He was on a mission, and that intensity of focus molded him into an expert woodsman. He had no coat, but piled on layers of shirts. If he was cold, he’d build a fire, push aside the coals, and sleep on the warm ground. At least once a week he bathed in a stream, sometimes breaking away the ice, then rolling in snow to dry off. The air in a town was toxic to him, and when offered a bed, he preferred to sleep outside on the ground with his dogs.

To the men who knew him, Lilly was a man of complete honesty and character. He never swore, drank, or smoked, and famously rested on Sunday, his holy day. If his dogs treed a cougar on Saturday night, the animal had a stay until Monday morning. But his religious beliefs extended to the supernatural. Lilly’s favorite meats were bear and especially lion, which he felt would endow him with exceptional instinct, prowess, and agility to pursue his quarry. He expected no less of his dogs than he did of himself—running them for days without food. He would go out of his way to make sure they had water before he did, took great pleasure in watching them work, and valued a dog’s intelligence rather than a specific breed. Yet ultimately, they were simply tools of his trade. If a dog began running trash or quit the trail, he had no need for him, and the dog was beaten or shot to death.

Ben Lilly was unquestionably one of the most destructive figures in North American wildlife history, contributing to the demise of the grizzly bear and the wholesale reduction of mountain lions and black bears in the Southwest. The plaque above was erected by friends who knew him, back in the 1930s. But there are some folks today that revere Lily as the ultimate hunter, apparently ignorant of the havoc and destruction he left behind in the Southwest.

Walking the jeep road to the pond (which was completely dry), I did have to marvel at how this strange man maneuvered these mountains. The scrubby oaks, pines and junipers are so thick they are almost impossible to pass through. The ground is rocky and the going rough. But I wonder how many people who take these short hikes even know who Lilly was and the devastation he caused to our wildlife.

Lilly’s lack of true reverence for life is the antithesis of our values of ethical hunting and wildlife conservation—a misguided, warped sense of nature that viewed large predators as “endowed by their very nature with a capacity to wreak evil…and should be destroyed.” A misshapen, exaggerated product of his era, one could consider Lilly a vessel—a queer, half-crazed man who performed his executions as a service for others, for the government, and in his own mind, for God. Genocidal war on predators had been codified as our nation’s God-given right, and Lilly was their proxy.

If you are in Tucson on March 15th, come to the Tucson Book Fair. It’s huge with a wide variety of authors and speakers. I’ll be speaking at 10am at the Western National Parks Association Stage