Commentary: Chugach moose population has sharply declined. Is a hunt to blame?

Once upon a time—and really not so long ago—a mountain valley just east of Anchorage was the best place in Alaska, and likely the world, for people to watch and photograph large numbers of moose.

Better even than Denali National Park, famous for its moose population.

Dozens of cows and big-antlered bulls would gather in meadows and wooded areas along the South Fork of Campbell Creek, to participate in their annual autumn mating ritual, known to us humans as the “rut.”

Remarkably, much of this gathering was concentrated less than a mile from Glen Alps, the most popular trailhead in Chugach State Park’s Front Range.

Standing along the Powerline Trail, just a short walk from the Glen Alps parking lot, a person could sometimes see dozens of moose from a single spot during the rut.

I once counted 24 moose—a mix of cows and bulls—while standing still, a marvelous experience. But others have seen far more. One photographer who’s closely observed the Chugach moose since the 1980s recalls counting 54 moose in that same locale “without moving a step.”

This year, on a dozen or more hikes out of Glen Alps between late August and mid-October—a period that includes the rut’s peak and post-rut congregation—I didn’t see more than a handful of moose on any given day. And only a single cow.

It’s true I wasn’t specifically searching for moose like the dedicated wildlife photographers who daily spend long hours in their quest to get dramatic images of the animals, especially the biggest-antlered bulls. But the numbers I saw were far fewer than in previous years, particularly for cows.

Curious to know what more dedicated moose watchers were seeing, I began talking to those photographers. And what they told me confirmed my own observations: moose numbers have been way down this year. And cows, in particular, have been hard to find.

There’s general agreement among those who’ve been paying close attention that the number of rutting moose in the Glen Alps/South Fork Campbell Creek area has experienced a gradual but significant decline over the past two decades. Among those to confirm the decline is a retired state wildlife biologist who has watched and photographed that population for a quarter century or more.

But this year’s drop-off has been especially steep, especially for cows. The last time I visited the rutting area, on Oct. 16, I spotted a group of photographers surrounding a big-antlered bull that is currently the dominant male.

I walked to where the moose and photographers were gathered and counted four moose: three bulls and a cow. In normal circumstances, the dominant bull would have a “harem” of several cows, sometimes 10 or more. The presence of only a single cow was most unusual.

In short, it seemed the moose’s rutting world had been turned upside down.

In recent discussions I’ve had with photographers—and I’ve reached out to several—all think that a month-long cow/antlerless moose hunt conducted in the South Fork Campbell Creek valley and a couple of other Front Range drainages for the past two decades is to blame for the steep drop-off in moose, especially among cows.

I will note here that several factors have likely contributed to the moose decline, including increased pressure on the animals from a huge uptick in photographers and, more generally, people who want to see lots of moose and, if possible, get close enough to them for a smartphone picture. That may have pushed some moose elsewhere. Loose dogs have also been cited as a problem, along with some severe winters. And in recent years a wolf pack has moved into the area from another part of the park.

Still, almost certainly the November cow moose hunt begun in 2005 has contributed to the decline and may be the biggest factor. By one photographer’s careful count—using the Alaska Department of Fish and Game’s own harvest data—more than 90 cows have been killed over the past two decades in this particular hunt.

I will save a deeper dive into the details of that hunt, and the state’s rationale for conducting it, for another time. Here I will focus on the increased call for an end to the cow moose hunt—chiefly being made by photographers, but including others, like me—and Fish and Game’s unwillingness to consider the evidence they provide.

The state’s local wildlife manager considers the field observations of people like me and the wildlife photographers who frequent the rutting area to be “anecdotal” information. Such observations aren’t considered as trustworthy as data gathered in a systematic way by agency biologists. 

I understand their perspectives. Anecdotal observations can be tricky. And misleading. You don’t want to rely entirely—or even heavily—on anecdotes when managing wildlife or wildlands.

But when you have numerous people who are closely monitoring a group of animals, day after day, week after week, for several hours every day, do their multiplied observations remain “anecdotal”?

I’d argue that the photographers know this rutting population of moose better than anyone, including Fish and Game biologists. And they are worried that the state is allowing moose numbers—again, especially cows—to drop to unsustainable numbers, perhaps even contributing to a population crash in that part of the park.

Stantorf has been unwilling to consider an emergency closure of the hunt until after he does an aerial census. As I write these words, it’s uncertain when the survey will be done and the data analyzed. But by then the hunt—which is scheduled to start Nov. 1—will already be under way.

The Department of Fish and Game and Alaska Board of Game consistently argue that the health and well-being of wildlife populations is their No. 1 priority. In this case I’m not sure they are serving the best interests of the Chugach moose that have long gathered near Glen Alps in the fall. What I’ve been able to learn suggests the population is in trouble. I hope I’m wrong.