Gudrun Pflüger - Wolf Spirit: A Story of Healing, Wolves and Wonder

WOLF SPIRIT

A Story of Healing, Wolves and Wonder

By Gudrun Pflger

Translation by Tammi Reichel,
APE International

For NAHANNI ,
My constant, my girl,
and all her wild relatives.

and

CONRAD KIMII ,
My sunshine,
and all the children of his generation.

I love you.

In Wildness is the preservation of the world.

HENRY DAVID THOREAU, WALKING

What comes to mind when you hear the word wolf? Red Riding Hood and dark forests? Sharp teeth and danger? Unmodern creatures that no longer have a place in our contemporary society and landscape?

Or do you think of a gentle encounter that can save your life?

This is my story. There are as many stories as there are people. Many remain silent, some tell their stories, and a few set them down in writing. At the beginning I thought writing this story would be easy. Just describe one year after the other, nice and linear. But life isnt a straight line, and different experiences have such different significances and relationships to each other that a strictly chronological order didnt seem right. So Ive chosen a structure that is more in keeping with the complex fabric of life and doesnt give the factor time any more importance than it actually has in my life. I dont even own a clock, and in the wilderness of Canada and during my illness, time played no role at all; there was only being or no-longer-being.

My motivation to write this book is my deep connection with everything natural and simple. Wolves are among those things. They are simply animals. But as soon as we start to use them as a surface on which to project our own fears and weaknesses, they become problematic animals that need to be driven away or even exterminated.

My experiences with wolves are not problematic. Thanks to them, I was able to perceive my love of life, strengthen my will to survive, and nourish my respect for all life.

Without my intense experiences in the wilderness, which often brought me to my very limits, I wouldnt have known how far my own strengths extend and where they actually come from. In untamed nature, I learned to respect that which is uncontrollable, to accept it, and finally recognize it as an essential part of my own life.

While I struggled with my illness, I coined the term wolf spirit to unite all the powerful qualities of wolves their determination and endurance, their cohesiveness as a team, their joy, and their will to live. When I identified with the wolf spirit, I was successful in my own healing.

We urgently need to do everything in our power to preserve the natural habitats that still exist, not only for the sake of biodiversity but also for the well-being of our own souls. All our life force has its origins in unfettered nature. This message is, for me, inseparably connected with the wild, free-roaming wolves of Canada.

FALL 1997

The city of Salzburg. Mozart is omnipresent. Its another of those rainy days in Salzburg. People who are familiar with the city will know what Im talking about. Between two lectures at the university I stop by a nearby shopping centre where you can get good topfenstrudel , an Austrian cheese pastry. I still have a little time, so I let myself get drawn into conversation with a couple of people working for the animal protection organization Vier Pfoten (Four Paws). Thats not usually my style, but sometimes things happen for a reason. These people work with attention-grabbers, shocking images of animals held in brutal conditions on fur farms or large-scale factory farms, pictures of skinned carcasses, caged four-legged circus artists, and animals that came to torturous deaths in traps. Images that are intended to engage peoples emotions and spur them to action. What you think about those kinds of attention-grabbing techniques is secondary here. Whats important is that there are people like that, who get involved in matters bigger than they are. I sign a membership card.

In one of their magazines I read a report about a wolf research and information project in the Canadian Rocky Mountains. I decide to sponsor one of the female wolves being tracked there. Sponsors receive regular updates about their wolves. Her name is Chinook, and she leads me onto the trail of the wild wolves.

KOOTENAY

WINTER 20002001

Where did you come from? Theres no human settlement far and wide, but nonetheless there is suddenly a little dog trotting along next to me, looking at me with the intense gaze typical of a border collie. He tilts his head, and in his dark button eyes I read, Lets go!

Go home, buddy! I cant take you with me. Im travelling the entire length of the national park and wont be back this way again! The little dog doesnt care a bit and scampers playfully ahead of me. I notice the tag on his collar. His name is Murphy, actually Jesus Murphy, and he can be returned to the telephone number noted below his name. All right, fine, come with me. I dont know where I would take you around here anyway.

The only sign of human existence appeared right after I got out of the car: an open meadow with a snowed-in lodge at its far end. No vehicles, no voices, no human beings. My research colleague Danny had brought me to the southern boundary of the conservation area in our burrito, an old and unreliable Ford the colour of a Mexican tortilla roll that belongs to Kootenay National Park. I intend to cover the length of the national park on my cross-country skis, heading north along East Kootenay Fire Road and turning to the west at the first bridge over the Kootenay River to meet the highway, where Danny is supposed to pick me up at the end of the day. Thats the plan.

To the north and the east, Kootenay National Park borders on the more famous Banff National Park, and it expands the protected area from Alberta into British Columbia. Its also sometimes called, in a somewhat derogatory way, the Highway National Park. This is because it owes its creation not to the environmental activism of a far-sighted nature lover, but to the fact that during construction of the first road running eastwest through the Canadian Rockies, the province of British Columbia ran out of money and had to turn to the government in Ottawa for an infusion of cash. The government agreed under the condition that, in exchange, British Columbia relinquish control of the land eight kilometres left and right of the new road to the federal Crown to create a national park. No sooner said than done.

Today, Highway 93 bisects Kootenay National Park lengthwise. The highway is the shortest connection between the cold prairie with the booming metropolis of Calgary and the milder climate of the Columbia Valley with expansive Lake Windermere. Many residents of Calgary race quickly to their second homes on the lake or to the Panorama ski areas on the weekends, and few of them stop along the way. Most tourists limit their visits to Banff, and Jasper as well, and so Kootenay Park aside from the terrible highway remains relatively tranquil. The road is straight and is not fenced. The death toll among the wildlife is extremely high.

At the parks halfway point is Kootenay Crossing, where a park ranger lives, park road crews and the seasonal fire fighters are stationed (in summer), and there is a little bunkhouse that sometimes houses scientists working in the park. The nearest stores are in Radium Hot Springs in the Columbia Valley, 70 kilometres away. For a few weeks now Ive been living in the bunkhouse, and I recently started sharing it with Danny and his old, broccoli-eating Labrador, Barkley.

Carolyn Callaghan, the leader of the Central Rockies Wolf Project, based in Canmore, about 120 kilometres away, has sent me into the Kootenay National Park. Gudrun, our wolf Willow has disappeared. She was the only animal in the Kootenay pack with a radio collar. Now its difficult to locate the rest of the wolves. I expect that well have to cover a lot of ground looking for her. So Id like to transfer you to Kootenay Park. Youre good on skis and it doesnt bother you to work alone in the field. That was the beginning of an eventful winter and my training as a field researcher.