42 ADIRONDACK LIFE September + October 2019
They are so much a part of the iconogra-
phy of the Adirondacks that you would
think the state’s largest land mammals
were ubiquitous. There is the Moose
Tooth Grill in Lake George, the Big Moose
Inn on Big Moose Lake and, of course,
countless coffee mugs and magnets
etched with their image. But compared
to Maine, where there are north of 60,000
moose, the Adirondack population is
minuscule, estimated at about 400—or,
on average, approximately one every
15,000 acres. No wonder people boast of
seeing a moose in the same way others
might brag about being a 46er, having
climbed the tallest peaks in the Adiron-
dack Park.
Maybe because of their small numbers
and elusive nature, moose are not well
understood by state wildlife biologists.
Environmental officials know that moose
prefer forests that are in the process of
regenerating and therefore gravitate
toward private lands that are actively
harvested for timber. They understand
that moose returned to the Adirondacks
sometime in the 1980s, after being wiped
out in the mid-1800s. And they believe
that the public is generally fond of the
giant, relatively gentle beasts.
But in the park, the exact number of
moose, their rate of reproduction and
their health are somewhat of a mystery.
So is the potential impact of climate
change on the moose population. To
learn more, the state’s Department of
Environmental Conservation (DEC) has
teamed up with several organizations,
including the SUNY College of Environ-
mental Science and Forestry, to under-
take a multi-year study of moose, the
largest member of the deer family. The
goal is to glean enough information to
allow state officials to develop a man-
agement plan for moose in the Adiron-
dacks. Such a plan could better protect
the Adirondacks’ unofficial mascot, while
allowing people and moose to peaceably
co-exist.
State environmental officials collared
moose from 2015 to 2017, capturing them
just long enough to affix geolocation
devices with the aid of nets fired from
helicopters. The collars are outfitted with
both global positioning satellite technol-
ogy and VHF, or very high frequency,
radio transmitters so they can locate the
moose, said Frances DiDonato, a fish-
and-wildlife technician with the DEC.
More than two dozen moose were
collared, giving researchers the ability to
keep track of a subset of the moose pop-
ulation. The scientists who are gathering
information about moose in the Adiron-
dacks know that it’s easier to detect their
brown-black bulk after the leaves fall
off the trees and snow cover provides a
clearer canvas.
On an aerial survey in late February,
the DEC invited journalists to join in
the search for collared cows, as female
moose are known. (The males are called
bulls.) We took off from the tiny Adiron-
dack Regional Airport, outside Lake Clear,
in a four-seat helicopter on a frigid but
crystalline morning. A fresh snow gave
the conifer-covered mountains stretch-
ing to the horizon the appearance of
being dusted with confectioner’s sugar.Moose.
IN THE PARK, THE EXACT
NUMBER OF MOOSE, THEIR
RATE OF REPRODUCTION
AND THEIR HEALTH ARE
SOMEWHAT OF A MYSTERY.
ABOVE AND PAGE 41:
A bull feeds on water-
shield at Helldiver Pond,
in the Moose River
Plains. RIGHT: Collared
moose photographed
north of the High Peaks
during an aerial survey.Moos
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