by Sandi Ault

I make my living writing about wolves. Or about one wolf in particular-Mountain-who is one of the star characters in my WILD Mystery Series. So I make it a point to learn all that I can about wolves. The staff of the Wolf Education and Research Center were kind enough to welcome me recently to the facility in Winchester, Idaho, to talk with them and learn from them. To chat at length with educator Randy Stewart, who shared a wealth of knowledge and information with me. And to visit the legendary Sawtooth Pack, Wolves of the Nez Perce, on a guided tour led by intern Matt Christman.

The Sawtooth Pack's legend in my research long preceded this meeting. I first learned about them when the Discovery Channel aired a film made about the formation of this pack. Through the eyes of the camera, I watched as these wolves were raised from pups. I engaged with them as they grew. My heart stirred as they were released into their wild sanctuary on the Nez Perce Reservation, where they now reside. Through the broadcast of this documentary, thousands-perhaps even millions-of Americans learned about the true nature of the wolf. The film demonstrated in a way we had never seen before how strong, loving, complex, and well-defined the social bonds are between members of a pack. We saw the beauty of their wild and spirited way of life. And so, without knowing it, the Sawtooth Pack became ambassadors to the world, demonstrating the priceless treasure this species represents.
And so I came to see these legends in person, to pay my respects to the ones who have passed beyond the ridge of time, and to celebrate the ones who remain. While I study and photograph wolves wherever I can, this visit with the Sawtooth Pack represented more than mere research. It was a journey of the heart. Following is my journal entry from the tour:

As we approach the "classroom" on one side of the wolves' sanctuary, a light breeze stirs the tall birch forest and we hear loud popping sounds as dry limbs snap in the canopy above us. A raven scolds from afar. The previous day's heat has dissipated, and this morning it is crisp and cool and there is an air of excitement as all of nature rouses from the lethargy of high summer and welcomes this first hint that fall will soon be upon us.

Motoki lies in the shadows, nestled in tall, dry grass under low-hanging birch boughs. Her amber eyes watch us with curiosity. When Matt kneels against the fence in the shady classroom, the alpha female hesitates, then approaches cautiously, sniffing the air, her ears upright and alert. She moves toward Matt carefully, turning her head like a satellite dish to scan the sight, scent, and sound signals from the small group of hushed onlookers behind the man whose smell and shape are familiar to her. She starts to turn away, then stops and looks once more at the kneeling intern. Months of Matt's respectful care are revealed in Motoki's next decision. She clearly trusts him, but-rightfully-is not sure of the rest of us, who wait breathlessly to see what she will do next. The woods are silent, not even our breathing is audible. Motoki pads directly past Matt within arm's length, a guarded greeting that acknowledges their relationship. She trots toward a grassy place on a rise just above the classroom and retreats again into the shadows where she can observe us, but we cannot easily see her. A chipmunk climbs boldly onto a log just on the other side of the fence and chatters at us, breaking the stillness.

Randy Stewart, the on-site staff education coordinator, approaches now on his daily morning walk to inspect the fences. He apologizes for interrupting our tour, but we are delighted that his mission brings the male wolves toward the classroom area. Matt tells us it is customary for the wolves to follow the staff on their fence inspections, as the animals are curious about all happenings in their territory. I see the two males in the meadow, and again I recognize the signs of trust: they know Randy and are excited by his presence. They draw close and view the group in the classroom with a watchful eye. Matt takes a knee at the fence again to put himself at eye level with the two males.

Motomo, the eldest of the pack and the alpha male, advances toward the classroom, while Piyip, the sub-dominant male, bypasses us and heads toward his sister, Motoki, on the rise. But the alpha draws close and lies down in the grass to one side of us to scope his surroundings. Matt kneels quietly, not moving. Motomo determines the situation is safe. He gets to his feet stiffly, clearly feeling his age. As he begins to move toward the fence, his limbs find their rhythm and his movement grows more fluid. Matt speaks softly as the alpha approaches: "Hey, Motomo. Hey, buddy." Motomo doesn't waver; he draws close and greets Matt affectionately, licking Matt's fingers and cheek through the fence-a sign of fondness normally reserved for pack members. The greying alpha male then turns and sits down, his back to the fence. He raises his right, rear paw and scratches idly at his cheek a few times. Then he rises-and with amazing spryness-trots quickly up to the knoll toward Piyip and Motoki. A pair of ravens loudly reproach the wolves, filling the sky with a blasting chorus of complaint.

Piyip, the sub-dominant male and brother of the female Motoki, moves down to the meadow and now gazes through the high grass at us. His distinctive facial markings, with an elongated black stripe down his nose, make him look younger than his eleven years. He playfully approaches and then retreats several times. Matt kneels at the fence and speaks softly, "Hey, Piyip, it's okay, buddy. It's okay." A solitary crow caws continuously. Piyip comes to the fence but pads quickly past Matt, almost tauntingly. Matt tells us this one's a little trickster and loves to play.

As Piyip retreats to the tall grass again, we hear a throaty vocalization from one of the wolves on the knoll. Matt says it sounds like Motoki. We stand and look toward the open field and see the alpha pair move down into the meadow, and then suddenly the three wolves begin to frolic together, playing. I see Piyip turn and quickly reverse direction, then Motomo's ears hover like sails above the grass as he trots after the younger male. Suddenly, the three are running together, and my pulse quickens. The Sawtooth Pack is celebrating life, the beauty of this day, the cool mountain morning, and the pure joy of being alive.

As they disappear into the woods above us, I am overcome with sadness. Will I ever see these noble legends again? Will they make it through another winter? Already, their advanced age makes them somewhat remarkable. Motomo is fifteen, an age almost unheard of for a wolf. And Motoki and Piyip are eleven. All of them have achieved or surpassed the normal life expectancy for wolves in captivity, and have lived well beyond a typical lifespan for wolves in the wild.

I finish my tour with a visit to the Weyekin Trail, named for the deceased female omega of the Sawtooth Pack, her name meaning "Spirit Guide." Near the end of the trail is a memorial and the final resting place for the remains of the Wolves of the Nez Perce who have returned to the earth. Beyond it, beneath a welcoming tree, a bench looks out on a glade, providing a spot to sit and reflect. I leave a tiny, almost indiscernible offering to the Sawtooth Pack members who have gone beyond the ridge, and my heart feels heavy with sorrow at the passing of these legends, these diplomats to the world for their kind, these teachers and healers of the human spirit.

The Sawtooth Pack is nearing an end. But the legacy of these amazing ambassadors is alive and flourishing through the good work of the Wolf Education and Research Center, and hopefully through the efforts and support of those who have visited and learned from this exemplary model of respect for life's many forms. And I look now to the future with hope:

• To the future of Idaho and its neighbor states and their battle for dominance and territory-a battle not unlike that among wolves for alpha position within a pack, and for territorial boundaries between packs. In this battle, the wolf has become the scapegoat for the real issue of who owns and rules the land, and whether or not we are willing to share it and its management for the good of all life.
• To the future of the Wolf Education and Research Center, an organization that has quietly and effectively managed to keep the channels of communication open and to work hard to educate and promote for the future of wolves. WERC stands as a model of cultural interface not only between communities (local, tribal, regional, national and international, scientific and lay) but between the species of humans and wolves. And to the future mission of WERC, which will hopefully entail another, similar endeavor to the one which has so successfully given sanctuary to the Sawtooth Pack, Wolves of the Nez Perce.

My visit to the center and my up-close experience of the remaining members of the Sawtooth Pack was an adventure I won't soon forget. My writer's spirit was nourished by it in a way that is not easy to describe. The wolf, more than any other animal except perhaps the bear, carries the memory of the wild for us. For just an instant, as I watched Motoki, Motomo and Piyip playing in the meadow, I imagined what it must be like for these great heaven beasts. In my mind's eye, I shifted and grew tufted ears and a thick coat of hair, my nose elongated and my vision changed. I heard the call of the ravens as a celebration of the morning from my winged hunting guides, felt the cool grass against my side as a tender caress from the plant beings, the golden sun on the meadow as a loving gift of Life. My soul stirred as I remembered the feeling of connectedness we all once had with the Earth when we lived by our senses and instincts.

In a nanosecond, I was back in my two-legged body and navigating the human landscape, but I am richer for that instant when I felt what it was like to have the heart of a wolf. I came away changed, and even more deeply committed than I already was to do what small part I can to help wolves to survive. Like WERC, I recognize that this is not going to be a mere matter of legislation-although that, too, is important. The survival of wolves depends upon a change of heart on the part of the human race, an evolution in thinking. I know of no more successful model for achieving this than the Sawtooth Pack, Wolves of the Nez Perce have been and continue to be.

I am grateful to the Wolf Education and Research Center for the role they play in this hoped-for evolution, and for the support, protection and sanctuary they have given to the Sawtooth Pack. I am grateful for the opportunity to have had this experience and to do research there. A special thanks to Chris Anderson, Randy Stewart, Matt Christman, and to all the staff at WERC for their help, kindness, and generous sharing of information.

Sandi Ault
The Wolf Education & Research Center receives many guests from all over the world and from various walks of life. Recently, the Center welcomed a well-known author Sandi Ault from Estes Park, Colorado, in her quest to gather information and background on the subject of wolves. Sandi Ault is best recognized for her popular mystery novels, Wild Indigo and Wild Inferno, that are set in the North American Southwest. She is researching her third novel, Wild Sorrow. Sandi is also a Wolf enthusiast and supporter of WERC and we're excited to welcome her to our family. You can learn more about her writing at www.sandiault.com.