CT Moose Have A Tough Time In The Heat

Picture Connecticut. Think suburban and urban. But the state is supporting its share of large wild animals, including moose. The moose population has been growing over the past decade. But as WNPR’s Nancy Cohen reports, Connecticut’s not an easy place for this animal to thrive.

Moose are equipped for very chilly weather. Consider their thick coat. Wildlife Biologist Andy LaBonte is with the Connecticut Department of Environmental Protection. 

“It’s heavy. So it’s made for withstanding cold temperatures in the north and heavy snowfalls.”

Moose are so primed for the cold, the biggest U.S. populations live in Alaska and in Maine, where there are 30 to 60,000 moose. In Connecticut, there are only about 100. Even so, what are they doing here? 

Kristine Rines is a wildlife biologist from New Hampshire Fish and Game, where there are about 5000 moose. She says there’s plenty of food and mates in northern New England. But young moose, like twenty-something humans, sometimes leave home.

“Once you reach a certain number of animals on the landscape, the young tend to move further. And it’s not because all available habitat is filled. It’s just because that’s what young animals do.”

About a decade ago, biologists in Connecticut documented the first cow with calves, indicating Moose are not just passing through, but sticking around.

The same is true in Massachusetts where the population has reached 950 animals. But both states pose a problem for moose. It’s too warm. David Wattles is a biologist with the Massachusetts Cooperative Fish and Wildlife Research Unit.

“I’ve seen a moose bedded in the shade on about an 80 degree day and the moose was lying down, its side was heaving, basically panting, trying to relieve some of the heat.”

Moose feed in open habitat where the young trees provide tender leaves, buds and twigs. But this younger forest is also sunnier and warmer. So instead of taking in the calories they need, moose burn them up going to dense, evergreen stands or wooded wetlands to cool down.

The D.E.P. is trying to understand how moose are using the forests here in Connecticut by tracking them with radio collars. So far, the state has one moose with an active collar. It records the GPS coordinates of where the moose is every day. But to download the data, researchers have to get close enough to the collared animal to receive a radio signal. That’s the goal for today.

Andy LaBonte and research assistant Drew Ocampo are driving in a forested area of West Hartland. Every few minutes Ocampo hops out and holds a 30-inch long antenna attached to a radio receiver over his head. He slowly twirls in a circle, occasionally standing on tiptoe. But the moose is out of range

“Nope. Nothing, yet.”

Ocampo raises the antenna at more than 15 stops along the road

“Thought I heard something. Like a little barely. Something down this way.”

You’d think we’d find this animal easily. When it was collared, it weighed about 700 pounds. But they can weigh double that, and get as tall as 7 feet.

They’re a real danger to people who hit one with a car. In Connecticut on average, there are two moose vehicle collisions every year. And moose can be a public safety hazard when they wander onto a main street.

But most people have never seen a moose. We pull up to the home of one Connecticut resident, Fred Caputo, who contacts Andy LaBonte about the animals he sees.

“Haven’t seen moose tracks in about a month and a half. Tracks I see quite a bit more often, the moose themselves every couple of months,” said Caputo.

“How about the bear?” asked LaBonte. “You been seeing any bears?”

“Yes. I’ve been seeing the bear.  He’s been hanging around here regularly,” said Caputo

Sightings from residents are a big help to the D.E.P. when it estimates the size of wildlife populations.

After several hours we finally hear a faint signal from the moose collar: a series of barely-audible whistles. We leave the car and head into the woods, the antenna leading the way. We pass a boundary marking the edge of the Connecticut State Forest. Although there’s no welcome sign, this must be Massachusetts. It’s dark and the beech and hemlock trees are huge. A good place for a moose to stay cool. 

“Moose tracks in the leaves, right here,” points put Ocampo.

Like detectives hunting for a clue, we stumble across a few signs.

“Moose remnants. Big, fresh pile of moose scat.”

LaBonte thinks the moose may be just below us. He slows his step and starts to whisper.

“It could be a lot closer than we think it is."

We cross a swamp and climb up back into a woods. Then the signal from the collar strengthens. It’s strong enough to download the data. LaBonte crouches and opens his laptop. The data from the moose collar comes in at a rapid pace - 8 months in 60 seconds, describing exactly where the moose has been.

Now, we try to get a peak at him.

“It’s about 50 yards straight ahead, walking from right to left, whispers LaBonte. “It’s really close. If you crouch down you’ll be able to see it.”

I see a blur of movement beyond the trees as the moose moves on.  But Drew Ocampo got a better look.

“It started to move and I saw the head kind of bobbing up and down and the antlers and the whole body moving. And it took off!”

Getting a glimpse of a moose is a rare treat. And although they may have a tough time in Connecticut - between the roads and the cars and the heat - coming south may be good for the species. It could increase genetic diversity. And if some kind of catastrophe were ever to hit the northern forest, there’d be another population of moose, albeit small, down here.

For WNPR, I’m Nancy Cohen.