My first experience with the Forest Phantom was in the Canyon region of Yellowstone nearly forty years ago. The encounter lasted less than five minutes but I will never forget those five minutes. Shooting handheld with a Nikon F3 / 800f5.6, I came back with 3 frames, not one is even close to being in focus. I still have those 3 frames in the slide files. Next, we found ourselves closer to home watching The Phantom in the meadows of Yosemite’s high country. That took us to the Blue Mountains of Oregon to photograph them nesting. This was all in the days of film and while the desire and passion to spend time with The Phantom has never wained, the calendar just didn’t want to cooperate.
For the last three years I’ve ventured to Sax-Zim Bog in part to see The Phantom again, experience the calm and silence it brings to a forest. Last week, I finally was able to experience their presence again. The Great Gray Owl is our largest (but not heavest) owl in North America at thirty inches in height. The huge facial disk permits it to hear little creatures scurrying about under nearly two feet of snow one hundred feet away. It literally does face plants as it falls through the snow to snatch its meal. You can see here it giving the snow its full attention as it listens for its opportunity to eat. Why the title The Phantom? Its plumage allows it to be swallowed up in the hues of its forest home. It makes no sound, not a stitch when flies while easily hiding through the branches of northern forests.
I woke up the other morning to our two resident Great Horned Owls calling, one perched over our water feature. I think they were there for not only the skunks that were drinking but to remind me that owls, including The Phantom, are in my own backyard. Yeah, nesting Phantoms are just across the valley from The Ranch. It’s on to do list. But so is going back to Sax-Zim Bog next year. I can’t wait until my next encounter with the Foreat Phantom!

I’ve always thought of them as the panic attack of the forest, as the Pine Martin is the perfect adaptation of a pine forest predator! A member of the weasel family, they have that family speed along with their love of life and appetite they take to the trees in search of their prey. Specializing in squirrels, the Pine Martin has no shame and will take advantage of civilization for an easy meal. Because they really don’t fear us (had one once inside an auditorium while I was presenting doing a better job than I entertaining) you can find them around us pretty easily.
We’ve watched them around our home and others as they dart back and forth. Spent two winters on snowshoes doing a research project with them. Had them pop up next to us while we were enjoying a picnic. In a forest where they are present, you just never know when and where they will appear. That’s part of their charm. We had a circus of six of them perform for us through the trees and around a dumpster they had made into a condo for themselves the other week. They put the Z 9’s AF to the test (but they weren’t fast enough for it) as I tried to photograph the circus in the trees. It was kinda like being at a skit range where you heard the word pull over and over again within seconds. It was the most fun I’ve had with them in a long time and the photos that came from the session, are a treasure. You have the opportunity, look the up and spend time with them, you’ll soon discover why I call them the jokester of the pines!

And as quickly as they appeared in the west, they disappeared to the east. We saw the lead animals reappear from under the bank a few hundred yards away as they looped towards the Madison Junction Ed Building. Soon, I saw the black wolf up on the bluff a 1/2 mile away looking out over the Madison River to the south. I wasn’t counting wolves, just amazed how much landscape they had covered in such a very short period. I was standing there watching them through the Z 9 / 180-400f5.6 (at 560mm with the 1.4x engaged) as they started to vanish into the trees. Right then I heard Justin say, “Moose, don’t move, to your right!” in a low whisper. I changed my vision from my left eye looking through the EVF to my right eye and slowly turned my head. The last two wolves popped up from the bank I was told with a bound and boom, were standing at the edge. With the lens still at 560mm, I slowly turned to frame up the two wolves. I laid on the hammer and photographed them for a very short period before they slid back down to the lower path and continued on with their journey. My time with them standing there was stunning, and brief and if I wasn’t already set up to shoot and the Z 9 wasn’t the machine it is, I wouldn’t have gotten off a shot. It was just that fast … and that amazing!

This was the second of five encounters we would with the Wapiti Pack in four days. Looking at my files, I was photographing them for only nine minutes (watching them for about 30 minutes). The encounter was just that brief. I filed over two thousand images in that short time but more importantly, is an experience forever engraved on my heart. And the most amazing aspect of this brief encounter, it’s not the one that has left an indelible impact on me. That encounter was still to come. The wolves are a very important piece of our wild heritage, still vastly misunderstood by most, as romantic and a symbol of our wilderness as when we first landed in North America hundreds of years ago. An encounter with them is one you’ll never forget.

Then There Were Nine
Catching Their Breath
We’ll Take the Low Road

Before the wolves disappeared from sight, other tourists started to stop to watch their passing. This concerned me for a moment until I heard a voice over my left shoulder say, “Be respectful of the photographers.” That blew me away almost as much as what I was seeing in the viewfinder. I don’t know who you are, but thank you ever so much for that courtesy. And with that, we continued to stand next to our truck, basically all alone with the wolves. We were standing in the pullout giving the wolves plenty of room to go where they wanted to as they looped east. This was the last we saw of them for the moment prior to taking the lower route under the bank of the river and out of sight. What was so cool to watch and made me wish there were two of me, one for shooting stills and one for shooting video, is how they followed in the tracks of the wolf in front of them. It makes perfect sense when wanting to conserve calories. Man, what an experience! mtc

Before the “pack” got really close to us (a couple of hundred yards, I was shooting at 560mm at this point), they pulled up and stop. I think they were sizing up the situation as they caught their breath. You look at this black wolf, you can see the frozen breath on its lower mandible, it was -19 after all. The Bison were up the Madison by the bridge at this point. Looking at a snow coach coming up the road, it watched it approach, looked at other members of the pack, and just stared. I have no doubt they knew we were there but it would seem as we weren’t moving, trying to catch our own breathes, we were a non-issue. Then with a nod of the head by a few members, they made their move that took me by surprise. mtc

By 07:20 we were at the turnout just wet of Madison Junction. The night before, we had last seen the Wapiti Pack at Seven Mile Bridge on their way up to Harlequin Lake. My senses told me they were up to something and that turnout would be the best place to sit, wait, and watch. There was a small group of Bison to the east of us and I watched them as they would know before us if the wolves were coming. Fifteen minutes later, Justin saw a group of Bison exploding in our direction from the west. They were going full speed and made the mile plus distance in just over a minute, went past us and grouped up with the Bison to the east. We knew the wolves were coming. We got out of the truck and stood next to it. A minute later, there were nine looping up the river bank in our direction.