Along the Missouri River
Post by 2016 Montana Summer Program student Allison Melcher
The American West today is a
landscape that is much different from the one that Lewis and Clark initially
explored. In their time, the land acquired by The Louisiana Purchase held
mystery, it held hope for an expansion of the American Dream, and for a new
generation of people spread throughout the United States. They saw bison range
the plains in numbers that today seem astronomical, huge expanses of tall grass
prairies, sagebrush, and mile after mile of prairie dog towns. With the help of
programs like APR, the land that Lewis and Clark saw while traveling the
Missouri River is slowly returning, with native species being reintroduced
after being plowed, overtaken by invasive species, or pushed out and killed. 
During our stay at APR we were lucky enough to be
able to see a lot of the wildlife that makes up prairies. We drove through a
few of the bison herds, seeing the young kick up their heels and race to keep
up with their mothers who ran confident and strong against the never ending
landscape, males showing off to each other, testing each other, seeing who was
stronger, who could end up with a mate and who couldn’t. One of the more
interesting behaviors that we were able to witness in bison was males who
wallowed in their own urine and then stood up to face another male sideways,
letting the wind catch their scent so that the competing male could gauge how
much testosterone he had, and then decide whether or not to challenge him. We
also saw a number of the strongest adult males who separated themselves from
the herd, bulking up and waiting for the rut away from the herd, and were able
to see baby pronghorns, baby killdeer, healthy prairie dog towns filled to the
brim with prairie dogs, and countless species of birds and plants. 
Perhaps one of the most surprising parts of the
trip was the shore birds. When one thinks of the west, they think generally of
the prairies, the grasses, a habitat dominated entirely by grassland species
and controlled by fire, lack of water, and freezing temperatures in the winter.
Though each of these are a characteristic and fundamental part of this habitat,
it is also a place that sees white pelicans, Wilson’s phalaropes, California gulls,
and a whole host of other species that are seemingly out of place in a habitat
like the prairie. The saline lakes of Montana are the breeding grounds for a
huge number of bird species, and, though surprising, they are as much an
intrinsic part of the landscape as the more well-known species, like elk, mule
deer, or lark buntings, are. Being able to experience the vast diversity of
life here, I was reminded again of why I became a wildlife major to begin with;
because the world is filled to the brim with species that will surprise and
intrigue you, and I’d like to be able to learn as much about them as I possibly
can while I have the chance.
There is
a certain joy in life that can one can only derive from nature; breathing in the
clean, crisp air of the outdoors and hearing the sound of the earth beneath
your feet is an unparalleled source of happiness. With each step I took on the
American Prairie Reserve (APR), I was reminded of this simple fact, over and
over and over again. The American West is nearly unreal, with its great
expanses of grass and endless sky. It is the kind of place you read about, a
place both teeming with life and completely empty, devoid of the kinds of signs
that we generally associate with life. There are no city lights and no
skyscrapers, just pure, almost unimpeded nature. During the summer days the sun
beats hot and the birds sing, and at night the sky nearly bursts at the seams
with stars, each one visible and twinkling against the blackened sky. The
natural world is always mesmerizing if you look hard enough, but here I didn’t
have to look hard for my breath to be taken away.
In just a short amount of time, we
saw an incredible amount. Though at times the mosquitoes felt hard to bear and
the sun left me with pinker and pinker cheeks every day, each new piece of
wildlife that I saw or fact that I learned seemed to make it all worth it, the
bugs and hot sun a distant memory as we passed something new. From bison,
pronghorns, mule deer and elk, to sage grouse, meadowlarks, avocets, nighthawks,
sagebrush, blue grama, western wheat grass and prickly pears, we saw nearly
everything that the prairie had to offer. And yet, each time we saw it,
regardless of how many times we had seen it before, it still held that same
sort of wonder, as if it were the very first time. These are the sorts of things
that can only be felt through experience, an unreal amount of awe that is
produced only when immersed in it. I can’t begin to describe all of the beauty
that the prairie has to offer, but believe me when I say it feels infinite in
magnitude.
The American West today is a
landscape that is much different from the one that Lewis and Clark initially
explored. In their time, the land acquired by The Louisiana Purchase held
mystery, it held hope for an expansion of the American Dream, and for a new
generation of people spread throughout the United States. They saw bison range
the plains in numbers that today seem astronomical, huge expanses of tall grass
prairies, sagebrush, and mile after mile of prairie dog towns. With the help of
programs like APR, the land that Lewis and Clark saw while traveling the
Missouri River is slowly returning, with native species being reintroduced
after being plowed, overtaken by invasive species, or pushed out and killed. 
During our stay at APR we were lucky enough to be
able to see a lot of the wildlife that makes up prairies. We drove through a
few of the bison herds, seeing the young kick up their heels and race to keep
up with their mothers who ran confident and strong against the never ending
landscape, males showing off to each other, testing each other, seeing who was
stronger, who could end up with a mate and who couldn’t. One of the more
interesting behaviors that we were able to witness in bison was males who
wallowed in their own urine and then stood up to face another male sideways,
letting the wind catch their scent so that the competing male could gauge how
much testosterone he had, and then decide whether or not to challenge him. We
also saw a number of the strongest adult males who separated themselves from
the herd, bulking up and waiting for the rut away from the herd, and were able
to see baby pronghorns, baby killdeer, healthy prairie dog towns filled to the
brim with prairie dogs, and countless species of birds and plants. 
Perhaps one of the most surprising parts of the
trip was the shore birds. When one thinks of the west, they think generally of
the prairies, the grasses, a habitat dominated entirely by grassland species
and controlled by fire, lack of water, and freezing temperatures in the winter.
Though each of these are a characteristic and fundamental part of this habitat,
it is also a place that sees white pelicans, Wilson’s phalaropes, California gulls,
and a whole host of other species that are seemingly out of place in a habitat
like the prairie. The saline lakes of Montana are the breeding grounds for a
huge number of bird species, and, though surprising, they are as much an
intrinsic part of the landscape as the more well-known species, like elk, mule
deer, or lark buntings, are. Being able to experience the vast diversity of
life here, I was reminded again of why I became a wildlife major to begin with;
because the world is filled to the brim with species that will surprise and
intrigue you, and I’d like to be able to learn as much about them as I possibly
can while I have the chance.
Today, the West, though still vast and
beautiful, is altered, and it is largely in part of humans, regardless of
whether that change is believed to be good or bad. It is no longer a part of
the world dominated entirely by natives, the same sort of hope for homesteading
in this territory is no longer harbored in the hearts of the government or by
the people of the United States. The select few who continue to live here are
those whose parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were able to adapt
and survive in a place that wasn’t kind to outsiders, that pushed out people
not used to the way of life that the prairie enables. They are hardened by
generations of learning by experience, with knowledge passed from father to
son, mother to daughter, such that their way of life can be preserved. There is
still a mystery in the west that lies in the landscape, but it is a landscape
now dominated by an ever constant power struggle between the native species and
the generations of ranchers who have worked hard to build their lives in the
unforgiving west, each feeling entitled to the land in front of them.
This issue is not just localized in the western
United States, though. The history of mankind is littered with confrontations
between the human population and the natural world, in search of that perfect
balance between preservation and innovation, if such a balance even exists. We
are constantly creating, expanding, and pushing the limits of nature, taking as
much from the Earth as we can get away with, whether that be resources like
wood or oil, or simply more space. But armed with the huge responsibility to both perpetuate the
livelihoods of the American people and conserve American wildlife, we must find
a way to compromise with nature, before we lose it forever.
Though difficult, at times unimaginable,
finding a way to live in peace alongside wildlife could be possible, and it has
to be. I’d like for my children, and my children’s children, to be able to
experience the same joy I have had in just a short time in the West, seeing a
sage grouse pop her head up out of the sage, twin pronghorn babies cry out for their
mother and then leap and bound away, unaware we weren’t predators, or waking up
to the sound of dozens of species of birds in the morning, the sky still
streaked pink and yellow. I’d like for the land of Lewis and Clark, the great,
wide, beautiful, mysterious west, to be home to ranchers and wildlife alike for
years and years to come. Finding compromise will not be easy, and it will
likely not come quickly, but I continue to hold onto the hope that it is
possible, because the world we live in is much too beautiful, much too
fascinating, to just give up.
