The Wolverine Way by Douglas H. Chadwick

The caption to the photo of a wolverine on the front cover of The Wolverine Way says it all: ‘big claws, big feet, big heart, big attitude’ The animal is standing on ice; looking fearlessly at the camera; paws spread, ready to take off – once curiosity is satisfied.

Described by the naturalist, Ernest Thompson Seton, as ‘... so enveloped in a mist of legend, superstition, idolatry, fear and hatred that one scarcely knows how to begin or what to accept as fact.’

This new book by Douglas Chadwick – wildlife biologist and author – sheds some welcome light on this fascinating animal and turns much of what we think wolverines to be on its head.

Now in his sixties, Chadwick served as a volunteer tracker of wolverines in the U.S Glacier National Park from 2004-2007. The animals were trapped in baited log traps and – because they invariably scratched off the annoying radio collars – were implanted with small VHF radio transmitters under the skin of their stomachs. 

While the National Parks Service tolerated this invasive technique for about four years it was not popular and the study was terminated in 2007. However, in those years, due to the energy of biologists and volunteers like Chadwick in the soaring topography of the park, the daily lives of many individual animals were recorded in detail. 

People tend to think of wolverines – as Chadwick admitted he once did – as ‘skulking, antisocial, perpetually and dangerously pissed off et cetera’. This is understandable, given the exaggerated tales of this elusive animal from trappers, hunters and cabin owners in remote areas. 

In spite of tales that wolverines only get together to mate and males would kill their own kits, it seems this largest land member of the weasel family has a rather exemplary family life. A male, whose territory covers about 1,000 square km, takes in the territories of two or three females, which he patrols tirelessly. They don’t just mate but actually appear to form long-term relationships with each other outside the breeding season. Males will even go and check out the females and kits in their dens. One five-month old female kit whose mother had recently died actually joined up with her father and traveled with him – learning the ropes.

A wolverine travels at a loping gait of about four km per hour; if there is a mountain in the way it tends to go over rather than around it. In January one year a male went straight up the almost vertical ice-coated side of Mount Cleveland – at more than 10,400 feet the highest peak in Glacier Park. To an animal that seems to regard the world as being flat this was probably the most practical and shortest route between two valleys in his territory.

Chadwick ends with a heartfelt plea for large carnivores to have ‘freedom to roam’, particularly in face of global warming. National parks are not large enough in themselves to guarantee a future for bears, wolverines, cougars or wolves: their gene pools are too small for them to flourish much longer. It is not necessary to protect more land in parks but it is critical that these carnivores can travel to find mates in other populations whether by overpasses, underpasses or wisely managed buffer zones and wildlife corridors. ‘These are pathways – survival lanes – not enormous swaths of country side.’ he writes. ‘What needs to spread far and wide is a deeper understanding of the power of connections.’

Jill Seaton