Behind the scenes of a once-in-a-lifetime hunting trip—to catch elk for West Virginia’s reintroduction program.
This story was originally published in the November 2017 issue of Wonderful West Virginia. To subscribe, visit wonderfulwv.com
Written by Zack Harold
Marcus Constantino had come to Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area as an observer. A multimedia specialist for then–Governor Earl Ray Tomblin’s office, he was on loan to the state Division of Natural Resources to document an important moment in state history— the first capture operation of West Virginia’s elk reintroduction program.
Constantino was excited as he made the drive to western Kentucky. He knew the event would make for some good photos. He did not know that, soon, he would be kneeling beside a tranquilized elk bull, a velvet ear in each hand, trying to keep the massive beast’s head upright so it wouldn’t choke to death on its own saliva or vomit.
Constantino held on tight as workers loaded the bull’s hulking frame onto an aluminum sled, then dragged the sled onto a flatbed trailer and hauled it back to a containment area. Back at the corral, biologists tagged and microchipped the elk and collected blood and tissue samples for disease testing before administering the tranquilizer reversal drug. It was only then that Constantino was able to let go.
The animal was on its feet again within a few minutes. “They’re so loopy at first, it’s like a person coming out of anesthesia from the dentist,” says Randy Kelley, project leader for the DNR’s elk project.
Constantino watched as the animal got up, wobbled around a bit, relieved itself, and galloped away with its head held high. “I’d never seen an elk in person before,” he says. “They were so much bigger than I expected. And gentle.”
That bull was one of 24 animals released along the Logan–Mingo County border last fall. It now makes its home in the West Virginia woods. Its experience with that tranquilizer dart is just a hazy memory. But for Constantino and everyone else involved in the capture, it was a day not soon forgotten.
First Step, Find Some Elk
Elk once abounded in West Virginia and the rest of the eastern United States but, by the 1870s, overhunting and habitat destruction had wiped out the entire population this side of the Mississippi River. West Virginia lawmakers passed a bill in 2015 allowing the state DNR to develop an elk reintroduction program. But the agency faced one major hurdle—where would they get the elk?
Several states, including neighboring Kentucky, regularly give elk to other states looking to reestablish wild populations. But many of those seed herds were already spoken for. Kentucky, for example, had agreed to a multi-year deal to send all its excess elk to Wisconsin.
But there’s more than one way to catch an elk. Thanks to some help from the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, the DNR was able to strike a one-time-only agreement with Land Between the Lakes, a U.S. Forest Service property on the border of Kentucky and Tennessee.
The park was originally owned by the Tennessee Valley Authority which, in the mid-1990s, imported elk from Elk Island National Park in Canada to establish an enclosed prairie that would allow visitors to see the land as it was when white settlers first arrived. The elk now live on 65 of the park’s 103 acres, on a plot that’s half forested and half open pasture, planted with native grasses and kept in check by regular controlled burnings.
The animals are mostly wild—staffers try to be as hands-off as possible, feeding them only when a harsh winter kills off their naturally growing food source— but are not hunted, so the park has to find other ways to cull the herd when it gets a little too big.
In 2008, Land Between the Lakes supplied 40 elk to East Tennessee’s Royal Blue Wildlife Management Area. By 2016, the herd was getting a little too big again, so the U.S. Forest Service agreed to give 20 of its elk to the West Virginia DNR. They just had to catch them first.
The Hunt Is On
“People think, ‘Just go out there, put them in a truck, and bring them back,'” Kelley says. “It’s not as easy as it sounds.” For such large animals, elk have a talent for making themselves scarce, even in an enclosed preserve like Land Between the Lakes. When Kelley and other DNR staffers made their trip to Land Between the Lakes in November 2016, they prepared to spend two weeks in the field just to bag their 20 elk.
The operation—which included both DNR and Land Between the Lakes staffers as well as representatives from the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation—was split between two kinds of teams.
A tranquilizer team set out first, driving the property in a pickup truck to find the animals. Once they found a herd group, they tranquilized the elk using a specially-manufactured .22 rifle with a diversion tube mounted on top. Darts were loaded into the tube, propelled by pressure that’s created when the gun fires a blank. Lots of adjustments have to be made when working with such an unusual firearm and payload. One person in the truck sighted the targeted elk using a rangefinder. Then, based on that distance, the shooter adjusted the force of the dart. It was important not to hit the animal too hard, but if there was not enough force, the dart might not reach its target.
Shooters typically aimed at an animal’s rump—a big area of muscle ensuring the injection would quickly make its way into the bloodstream. If the team couldn’t get a clear shot on the rump, they aimed for the shoulder area. It was important to avoid the stomach area if possible, since the drugs would take longer to reach the animal’s bloodstream and render the tranquilizer useless.
It sometimes took up to 8 minutes to see if a shot was successful. “It’s not Wild Kingdom. The animals don’t fall over,” Kelley says.
Once the animal was down, it was time to radio for a trailer team. They loaded the animals onto custom-built aluminum sleds, pulled those sleds onto a trailer using the winch on a UTV, and then pulled the trailer to a 14-acre corral where the whole process would be done in reverse.
This was no small task, since elk cows weigh around 500 pounds and bulls can weigh between 600 and 800 pounds. Each trailer team contained about a half-dozen people but, since the tranquilizer teams tried to shoot four to six elk at a time, they sometimes ended up shorthanded. That’s how Constantino, embedded with a trailer team, found himself in the middle of the action.
Difficult as it was, the process went smoothly. The teams bagged their entire limit within just three days, plus four additional elk Land Between the Lakes agreed to send to West Virginia. The animals could not be transported right away, however, until all of the disease and pregnancy tests were completed. The DNR received the all-clear in early December, returned to Land Between the Lakes to load the elk onto cattle trailers, and, with a DNR Law Enforcement escort, brought the animals to their new home.
“A Historic Day”
On December 19—a chilly, overcast day—hoards of people parked their cars on a former strip mine and stood in line to catch rides in state-owned minivans or SUVs. These green-plated vehicles bounced along rough mountain roads until reaching a field where, seemingly incongruously, someone had erected a big metal stage. Down the hill and to the right was a fenced-in pasture ringed by black plastic tarp, where a herd of 24 elk stood huddled together.
State officials soon arrived in their own cars, for one of the final acts of Governor Tomblin’s administration. Speaker after speaker took the stage to thank the DNR, the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, the Conservation Fund, Land Between the Lakes, and everyone else who helped get the restoration program underway. “It’s a historic day,” Tomblin said when it was his turn to speak. “It’s been over 140 years since West Virginia has been home to free-roaming elk.”
There were whispers among the crowd that the elk would be released at the end of the ceremony, but the governor put that rumor to rest. He told the crowd the elk would remain in the pen for a few more days until they were adequately acclimated, then would be released into the wild. When the press conference was over, the audience stood around for a long time looking down the hill into the pasture, watching as the elk galloped from one end to another. Then they joined another long line and caught a ride to their cars.
Kelley returned to the site on December 23rd, all by himself. He knocked open one of the gates, moved the feed troughs outside the enclosure, set up some trail cameras, and drove away. No one was there to watch the elk leave the enclosure, but Kelley did catch some photos on his cameras. “It took them until late afternoon and they eventually came out and, single file, walked out of the enclosure into the wilds of West Virginia.”
He’s still keeping tabs on the animals. Thanks to the GPS collars biologists installed on 20 of the animals, Kelley can pull up their exact location anytime he wants. Five have died. One cow hurt its hooves and contracted an infection. Another cow miscarried and died from complications. A bull died from capture-related stress. Then, in midSeptember, a cow and her calf were hit and killed by an ambulance in an early-morning collision on U.S. 119.
The rest of the animals seem to be thriving. A few of the bulls have walked six or seven miles from the wildlife management area, only to come right back. One cow has established a home area away from the WMA, near US-119. “She’s been seen a lot from the four-lane,” Kelley says. Another cow walked 15 miles to the Lincoln–Wayne County border and spent some time on a surface mine. Kelley drove out to see her there. Then she started back toward the WMA, and was home within two days. “Elk can cover a lot of ground. It’s amazing to watch,” he says.
Earlier this year, one of those trail cameras Kelley set up revealed another historic moment—a cow with her newborn calf. It was the first wild-born West Virginia elk in a century and a half.
“You never imagine you’re going to be involved in bringing a species back to your home state. Especially something this big,” Kelley says. “I’m sure the guys that brought otters back felt neat putting them back in the creek. But I’m not sure you have that regal, majestic feeling.
“It was gratifying. Humbling, even.”
Kelley and his crew are now planning a trip to Arizona in early 2018 for their next elk capture. The details are still being worked out, but wildlife officials have promised to give West Virginia up to 60 elk.
As we now know, that’s not as easy as it sounds. First, they’ll have to catch them.