Shirley Bertholf

We live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest in the foothills of Mount Baker.  It’s gorgeous here, and, since I have the privilege of working out of my own home office each day as a UFirst Agent, one of the joys I frequently experience is seeing deer meander through our yard.  They are so graceful and beautiful.  More than once I’ve snagged my camera to capture them on film, but my pictures never do them justice.

We don’t often catch a glimpse, but there is also a herd of Elk that wanders into our yard from time to time, primarily at night or in the early dawn hours.  We see their tracks and droppings, and, for some time now,  we’ve seen something else.  Damage!  We found out the hard way the answer to the question, “What do elk eat?”  And with each new evidence of their destructiveness, our delight in these regal creatures has eroded.

They have trampled through flower beds, broken the tops off small bushes, shrubs, and trees,  and gnawed the bark and leaves off taller trees, breaking whole branches in the process.  As much as we love having them in our neighborhood, the destruction they are wreaking on our landscaping plans is something we cannot allow.

The other day, a neighbor stopped by to inform us that he’s also had trouble with these majestic creatures and finally called the Forest Service to complain.    A forest ranger offered him a sure-fire cure for troublesome elk: bear hide.

Our neighbor produced a chunk of bear hide, which he was kind enough to share with us (not sure where he got it — perhaps from the Forest Service).  My husband then cut it into strips, not an easy process, considering the toughness of the hide, the dullness of his knife, and the putrefying foulness of the odor.

The underside of the hide contains a thick, sticky, oily substance which must be rubbed over the bark of the tree.  Then the hairy strip of hide is wedged or tied to the tree somewhere, giving the appearance of a fur collar around the neck of  the tree trunk.

The odor is strong and disgusting, but apparently, that’s good, because the elk will hopefully keep their distance in the fear that a bear is nearby.

We’ve only had the pieces of bear hide in our trees for a few days, but so far so good.  Elk hunting season will begin soon, and the elk will migrate up into the mountains for a time.

I don’t expect the fragrance of our bear hide to diminish any time soon, so hopefully it will give our fledgling trees and bushes a chance to grow without trauma to a size that no longer appeals to the elk that roam our yard.  Only time will tell.

In the meantime, as I look out my office window where I conduct my UFirst  business each day, our trees look like they are dressed and ready for winter with their “cute” little fur collars on.