Tom Gable spends a lot of time in the Elephant Lake deer yard this time of year. As the lead researcher with the Voyageur Wolf Project, that’s not surprising. Deer congregate under the protection of the yard’s dense canopy of cedar and pine, and where there are deer here in the North Country, there will be wolves.  Gable monitors the interaction between these two species through the use of more than a dozen trail cameras that he has strategically placed along travel corridors within the yard. 

The yard, which extends across several square miles tucked between Elephant and Black Duck lakes, is comprised of mostly state land. The predominance of upland white cedar makes the site especially valuable for white-tailed deer, because the trees provide exceptional protection from the wind and keep much of the winter’s snow up in the branches rather than on the ground, where it can impede deer movements. At the same time, the inability of white cedar to regenerate itself given the current presence of white-tailed deer on the landscape, has prompted public land management agencies to refrain from harvesting cedar, so this stand is likely to remain at least in the near-term. 

The longer-term prospects are grim. Most of the cedar stands that survive today in northern Minnesota grew up at a time when woodland caribou and moose were the dominant ungulates in the region. As such, the forest that makes up the Elephant Lake deer yard could be considered a relic of the past, that will eventually disappear. Fortunately, white cedar is perhaps among the longest-lived of any tree species in the Upper Midwest. Barring the impact of climate change, the cedar that make up this deer yard are likely to outlast all of us, possibly by centuries. 

For now, at least, the white-tailed deer that threaten the future of white cedar benefit greatly from its existence as this site provides a critical piece of habitat in far northern St. Louis County. Surrounding the yard are miles of mostly young and middle-aged aspen, which provides little food or winter cover for the region’s struggling deer population. 

While this area is described as a deer yard, you’re unlikely to spot one simply by walking into it. In the warmer months, deer don’t use the area much since there is little undergrowth in the deep shade beneath the dense canopy. The deer begin making use of the area once the snow arrives and they use it even more as the snow deepens throughout the winter. 

DNR wildlife biologists note that snow depth is the most critical factor for deer winter survival, and that’s why dense conifer stands, particularly white cedar, are so valuable. That was instantly apparent as Gable and I walked a mile-and-a-half loop through the site this past week. Under the protection of the trees, the snow was manageable and we could walk relatively easily, even without snowshoes. But as we neared the end of our loop, we came to a roughly five-year-old aspen clearcut. Instantly, the snow depth reached our knees and walking became much more difficult.

Gable noted that for deer, survival in winter is a matter of conserving resources. They put on fat during the growing season and draw down those reserves in winter. The woody browse they rely on in winter is low in nutrition, helping mostly to slow the depletion of their fat reserves. They use deer yards not as a place to find food, but rather to as a protected location that helps them reduce their daily energy demands. Their concentration also tends to create well worn trails through the snow, which gives deer an advantage when they encounter predators.

 As we walked through the deer yard, we found several of those deer paths evident in the snow. Gable’s trail cameras, as well, showed that deer were using those trails. Yet, because this deer yard is large and the density of deer in the region (the yard is located in DPA 119) is low, your chances of spotting a deer here aren’t good. 

Gable’s trail cameras also picked up the presence of wolves. He said the territories of three local packs encompass portions of the deer yard and the cameras regularly spot the predators as they travel through the yard in search of their prey. Most of the cameras we visited seemed to show more wolves than deer, although Gable said that’s because wolves are always on the move in search of prey, while deer limit their travel to the bare minimum this time of year. 

The trail cameras, along with GPS collars, deployed by the Voyageur Wolf Project throughout the study area are giving the researchers a much better glimpse into the lives of wolves than earlier studies. Gable is using the cameras in the Elephant Lake deer yard in hopes of learning more about how wolves detect and track deer in such dense cover. 

While winter is the toughest time for deer here in the North Country, it’s the best time of year for wolves. During much of the year, wolves struggle to catch deer, which are quick and agile. That’s why they tend to rely heavily on other food sources, particularly beaver, during the warmer months. 

In milder winters with limited snow, such as we have experienced in recent years, most deer manage to avoid wolves, and dense conifer stands, like the Elephant Lake deer yard, help give deer an even bigger advantage.