Winter Survivalists

I sometimes think we humans are aliens on this planet. We are simply not very well suited for these northern climates. That became crystal clear last winter when I woke up and saw the outside thermometer was registering minus 28°. That’s simply scary cold, no matter where you live. But being the ingenious beings we are, I could simply turn up the thermostat or stoke up the woodstove and my family would be toasty warm, while the trees cracked and groaned outside.

Each winter I often ponder how the wild animals just beyond my door fare during these extreme winter conditions. It amazes me to think they are out there in subzero temperatures for months on end and manage to emerge alive come spring.

How do they do it? Well, wild animals have some resourceful features that enable them to survive. For instance, the much-revered game bird, the ruffed grouse, grows a downy underlayer of feathers called afterfeathers, along with having feathering right down to their feet. As the days grow shorter, they also have grown tiny appendages called pectinations along the edges of their scaly toes. These soft little barbs transform the grouse’s feet into mini snowshoes, allowing them to more easily traverse the surface of the snow and, more importantly, to cling more securely to icy branches as they feed on buds and catkins.

Another unique adaptation is that these hardy birds, which normally roost up in trees at night, will sometimes burrow in snowdrifts to take advantage of the natural insulation snow provides. I have been startled more than once during an early morning winter hike as a grouse bursts from the snow. When I go to investigate, I find a little snow cave with droppings on the bottom.

There is some disagreement on whether black bears actually hibernate by definition. True hibernators, like woodchucks and ground squirrels, drop into such a state of suspended animation you could jostle them and they wouldn’t awaken. Bears on the other hand sleep less soundly, with a heart rate about half the normal rhythm. They will even rise and leave their den for short periods if the weather warms. Like a crated dog, they will not soil their den. Before retiring for the winter they eat leaves and pine needles and their own hair, creating what is termed an “anal plug.” Come spring they void this plug and, well, watch out!

Northern whitetail deer are known for their large body size. This is true for the deer we find around our area, with some mature bucks reaching upwards of 300 pounds on the hoof. Maine deer need that body mass to cope with extreme cold. Anyone who enjoys viewing deer can’t help but notice the change from an orange summer coat to the boney gray winter coat. This hair molt provides the whitetail with hair containing hundreds of tiny air pockets, which act as insulation.

Depending on weather conditions, deer will start to gravitate to cedar swamps and conifer thickets, where there is shelter from wind and snow depths are less. These are called yarding areas. Unfortunately, these yarded-up deer can strip the available food supply and be reluctant to leave their sanctuary. It’s not uncommon for coyotes to prey upon deer that are yarded up. There is no doubt that harsh winters can severely compromise deer populations and a winter-stressed doe will sometimes resorb a fetus, a sad yet necessary adaptation.

Moose are well adapted at coping with northern winter climates. Their tall stature, which can reach seven feet, allows them to browse high on twigs, leaves, bark, and a variety of buds. Even so, with a weight that can reach over 1,000 pounds, they need to consume massive quantities of food. This enormous size also allows them to travel in snow that would stop a four-wheel-drive truck with a lift kit. Only when snow depths severely compromise their movement do they hole up in more sheltered areas like deer. But, being opportunists, they will also seek out areas with easier passage—places like snowmobile trails and, unfortunately, plowed roads, which can lead to traffic accidents.
So, the next time you are curled up in your easy chair in front of your fireplace with a blizzard raging outside, think about our woodland creatures and wish them luck this winter. I know I will.

Brad Eden is an artist, writer, Registered Maine Master Guide, and owner/editor of the online magazine www.uplandjournal.com.