Up close and personal with Anchorage’s big ungulates/Page Hall photo
The annual, post-rut congregation of bull moose has arrived in Powerline Pass above Alaska’s largest city, and with it a golden opportunity to harass the wildlife.
Some simply call this “wildlife photography.”
Weakened from the fasting linked to a desire to breed so powerful it trumps survival, often left injured in the wake of violent battles for breeding opportunities, the massive ungulates who herd up for a time a couple thousand feet above Anchorage are now perfect targets for wildlife photographers both amateur and professional.
Too weak to flee, the moose will often let people approach to within feet.
For the photographers, it is the next best thing to taking photos at the zoo. For the suffering animals, not so much.
“However, it is not just the number of people but also the type of human activity that influences elk behavior (e.g. hiking vs. hunting). Quantifying the actual fitness costs of human disturbance remains a challenge in field studies but should be a primary focus for future researches.”
Wildlife harassment
Alaska wildlife managers recognized this long before the studies appeared and encouraged the state to adopt a law prohibiting wildlife harassment, but it is seldom enforced.
“Give wildlife plenty of space,” dictates the first line in the ethics policy. “Binoculars and spotting scopes allow you to view wildlife without getting too close.”
This advice is largely unheeded in Chugach State Park’s Powerline Pass, where the general rul seems to be more this:
“If a moose doesn’t fill the frame when shooting with a wide-angle lens, you’re too far away.”
Anchorage photographer Page Hall has been appalled by what she has seen in the Pass this year.
“These bulls are exhausted with injured eyes swollen shut and bone-deep gore wounds, and humans so close I actually thought the moose were dead at first,” she messaged. “One guy was playing ‘touch the moose in a selfie,’ and everyone acted like I’m the only one doing something wrong when I said they’re all too close.”
Hall said she did call Fish and Game, Alaska Wildlife Troopers and Alaska State Parks to complain the “photography” has gotten out of hand, but said no one expressed any real interest in enforcing the state’s wildlife harassment law, let alone talking to the photographers about ethics.
As for the photographers themselves, Page said it appears that either they don’t notice or don’t care about the state of the moose.
Categories: Commentary, News, Outdoors
Excellent piece Craig. Thank you for bringing some attention to this unethical practice. I’d like to see this published in the Sunday ADN for broader distribution – perhaps replacing “Powerline Trail” with a more generic descriptor per Scott’s suggestion. From the replies of Kevin and Pete Snow above, they must be guilty practitioners trying to rationalize their self-centered behavior. Well done Craig!
You may need to re-read my comment. I think you failed to understand what I was saying.
So large moose batter each other . The moose break bones and cut flesh, Are the people with cameras really that big of a deal? Moose are killed on the highways all the time.
Also could the humans be scaring away bear and wolves and actually protecting the moose?
“Moose are killed on the highways all the time”
Not sure what your point is. People aren’t aiming their cars at moose. This is what we call an accident. What these photographers are doing is intentional and therefore preventable. Let me guess – that’s you in the red jacket?
Define “accidental.” I’ve been at the scene of quite a few moose-motor vehicle collisions that weren’t all that accidental. They were, in fact, pretty predictable.
Predictable is one thing. Intentional is something else.
“Stupid is as stupid does”
Probably shouldn’t have mentioned where the moose are as more idiots will show up.
They all must park somewhere close by while disturbing the moose. Hint Hint drug addicts and car thieves.