Earlier this month, at the Large Animal Research Station in Fairbanks, state wildlife biologist Tom Seaton was shaking feed pellets onto a lush pasture.
At the sound of the feed hitting the ground, a dozen pairs of pale, curved horns poked out of the shadows under a grove of birch trees across the field. The animals — a herd of wood bison — ambled over to the snacks before erupting into a brief skirmish.
“There's a really strong dominance hierarchy amongst all of them,” Seaton said. “They're often trying to figure out, like, who's higher and who's lower.”
A years-long project to bring wood bison back to Alaska charged ahead this year when the state released a new herd into the Interior back in May. Those 61 wood bison now roam the Minto Flats State Game Refuge, about 50 miles southwest of Fairbanks.
Alaska’s wood bison were hunted to extinction about a century ago. The Minto Flats herd is just the second herd to be re-introduced into the wild in Alaska, or anywhere else in the country. In 2015, state Fish and Game released a herd of wood bison to the Lower Yukon and Innoko River area in Western Alaska.
Many members of those wild herds were raised at LARS. It’s one of two facilities in the state that breed and raise the wood bison that Fish and Game will eventually set loose. And biologists say those herds are making steady progress. If population numbers stay on track, people might even be able to hunt them in a decade or so.
But the optimism has been tempered by recent hard winters, which have made it difficult for the bison to thrive. And the reintroduction project isn’t without controversy — there are looming disagreements about who should have priority for hunting the bison, and about what should happen if the herds get in the way of oil, gas and mining interests.
The herds are growing despite deadly winters
The Innoko herd has grown by about 23% since 2015, but it hasn’t been easy. Many animals were lost in a series of hard, wet winters.
Rain-on-snow events have become more common in the Interior than they were many years ago. That’s when winter rain creates a crust of ice on the snow that bison struggle to break through to reach the vegetation beneath.
Seaton said public investment is helping the repopulation project along, with broad support from the state and nonprofit organizations. But the winters have been a big setback.
“They have a declining body weight throughout the whole winter,” Seaton said. “And if they get to a point where they've used up all those body reserves before things turn green again, they die.”
The Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center, near Anchorage, is the other Alaska facility that’s holding and raising wood bison to contribute to the wild herds. Sarah Howard, the facility’s executive director, said they’re breeding for the feistiest bison, to survive the tough winters.
“When we consider which bull to put in with the cows every year, of course, genetics is the biggest factor,” she said. “But then it definitely comes down to who's got a little more spice, who's a little more edgy.”
Alaskans are divided on where the bison should go and who should get to hunt them first
Meanwhile, excitement about the project is growing among tribes, rural communities, hunting groups and others. But there are looming differences over who should have priority for hunting the bison — and what should happen when managing the herds could conflict with oil, gas or mining projects.
Mark Richards, the executive director of Resident Hunters of Alaska, is a longtime proponent of getting bison back onto the land and securing priority hunting rights for Alaska residents. But he knows that opportunity is a long way away.
“It's been a little bit of a dilemma at some of the meetings with the rural communities that want permission to hunt before the rest of the hunters can hunt,” Richards said. “What I have done when I go to the meetings, is just try to reinforce the fact that, look, this is really about restoration.”
Meanwhile, some resource developers are concerned about the liability of having a protected species on their land. State and federal wildlife managers created a special rule that gives full deference to resource development projects over bison, but Seaton said even that hasn’t calmed everybody’s fears.
“Those are federal laws,” he said. “And one of the things that's been said by industry is: ‘Well, we don't really trust the federal laws, because they can change.’”
Alaska Native corporation Doyon Limited, which is the state’s largest private landowner, opposes further wood bison releases. In an emailed statement, Doyon spokesperson Cheyenna Kuplack said the company does not support the establishment of new herds outside the Innoko area.
“ADF&G has yet to fully respond to the concerns raised by local communities,” she said. “Doyon has focused on how the herd in the Innoko area continues to be managed before animals are introduced elsewhere in the state. Furthermore, Doyon continues to urge ADF&G to prioritize the restoration of Yukon River salmon over wood bison introductions.”
Back at the LARS pasture in Fairbanks, Seaton spotted one bison through his binoculars that was hanging back from the group. A pumpkin-orange calf teetered out from the high grass to join her. The calf is nursing, and Seaton said that’s a good sign.
And he said that, based on aerial surveys, the new Minto Flats herd is doing well, too. But the coming winter will be the real test of the bisons’ ability to survive.