A NEW GENERATION OF ELK
By Carol Mulvihill Outdoor Writer

It's springtime once again on the Pennsylvania elk range.

The cows are more than eight months pregnant and have split off from the larger herds of 40 to 100 into small groups of four to six. They've moved into valleys where the green grass and tender new shoots on the bushes offer nutritious minerals necessary for the development of strong bones in the calves they are carrying. They will be giving birth any day now.

Game Commission studies show that the elk, in more than one instance, have returned to the same birthing area they used in the previous year.

The belly of the cow begins to sag noticeably two weeks before the calf is born. From the back, she appears awkward with a torso as large and round as a 55-gallon drum.

As the time of birth approaches, the yearlings (last year's calves) that have followed along with their mothers in large groups all through the winter, are kicked out of the nest, so to speak.

Just before labor, the cow wanders off from the small group to isolate herself. If a yearling follows her, he may get a sharp-hoof reminder from the hormonally-influenced mother that she wants him to "get lost!" It may sound cruel, but actually it is nature's way, for the protection of the newborn.

Elk calves are nearly undetectable when they are first born. When they sense danger, they lay flat and motionless on the ground. They are virtually scentless at birth.

When calves are born, their most important protection from predators during the early weeks of life is to remain motionless and flat on the ground in what is referred to as the "hider" position. The presence of playful yearlings could draw unnecessary attention to the area, and reveal the location of a calf to a nearby bear, bobcat or coyote. So the oneyear olds become banished orphans, until they reconnect with the group several weeks later, when the new calves are strong and agile new playmates.

It's not that newborns can't run. They are born with particularly long legs, weigh close to 40 pounds, stand within 20 minutes and nurse within an hour.

Within a week, they can outrun a grown man and it is difficult even for the Game Commission's biologist aides to tackle and place radio collars on them for the calf study, if they are not found in hider mode. Mostly, calves are inconspicuous and hidden until they can run distances for a sustained duration necessary to outrun predator species.

The mother elk begins the bonding and communication process with the newborn from the moment of birth. She eats every bit of the amniotic sac, placenta and cord and licks the calf clean of blood and fluids so that it is essentially odorless and undetectable to predators. They initially gain recognition of each other by scent

As the calf suckles, the mother continues the process of licking away any residue of fluids and excretions to keep the calf's presence undetectable. The cow will actually remove herself from the calf's bedding area to feed, while staying within earshot. She might be away for four to six hours at a time before returning to nurse the calf. Meanwhile, the calf lies flat on the ground in hider position unless summoned by the mother.

There is a vocalization that the mother teaches her offspring. It is a loud cry followed by a soft echo. The calf instinctively answers. The communication is uniquely their own. They practice it over and over. When the mother calls, the calf is summoned to stand, usually to feed, or to come to her side if danger is near. When a calf calls the mother, it is either hungry or frightened. I once watched a cow on a hillside break into a graceful run for nearly a quarter mile straight back to her calf one morning in June, a maternal response to a young but very strong and persistent voice.

The best times to get a glimpse of a cow elk nursing a newborn are at daybreak and just before sundown. With the cow standing usually on the edge of an open field, the nursing calf is sometimes visible for a brief time, above the weeds. But for the most part, tourists on the elk range may not see a newborn elk calf until it is more than a month old and mobile. It is then that mothers and newborns band together in nursery groups and are often rejoined by yearlings.

Around the time a cow gives birth, and more so in the weeks that follow, I've noticed that her appearance transforms. Her shaggy winter coat is shed, revealing new short coppercolored summer pelage. She resembles a well-groomed thoroughbred. I haven't found research to indicate a hormonal connection to this occurrence, but cannot help but wonder if there is one.

I've read that a cow's nutritional resources go first into the development of the calf, before being utilized for the growth of a new summer coat. Once the calf is born, there is still significant draw on the mother's nutrition for lactation. Perhaps, with not-so-harsh winters here in Pennsylvania, excellent mast crops and adequate habitat all year long, nutritional needs are adequately met. Even lactating cows appear sleek and healthy as racehorses by mid-to-late June.

Cow elk are stunning creatures. When a lone cow stands silently in a lush meadow of flowering clover, the scene is one of sublime tranquility and beauty. It's like a glimpse of heaven.

It's time to take a moment of respite from the busy pace and stressors of daily life, to savor the sweet beauty of springtime. You don't have to take a trip to Yellowstone when gas prices are $3.89 per gallon, and the opportunity for elk viewing is right here in our backyard.

About the author…

Outdoor writer Carol Mulvihill wrote and published the book, Elk Watching in Pennsylvania, in 2001. Since that time, her passion and enthusiasm for the elk have continued unabated.

As a landowner in Pennsylvania elk country, she has spent countless hours observing and photographing her favorite subjects during every season of the year. Field observation, digital photography and research have provided the foundation for stories and anecdotes shared in her writings and public presentations.

Carol has been a member of the Pennsylvania Outdoor Writers Association and a life member of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. Her elk stories and/or photos have been published in Endeavor News, Pennsylvania Outdoor News, Bugle magazine, AAA World Magazine, and the Bradford Era. Her column, "From the Elk Watcher's Journal" will appear biweekly in the Endeavor News, beginning in May 2008.

Through her writings and photography, she hopes to foster an appreciation of the Pennsylvania elk as a treasured natural resource. By increasing public knowledge and awareness, she hopes to encourage a sense of personal responsibility on the part of citizens to influence decision-making and ensure responsible stewardship of the elk in Pennsylvania for future generations to enjoy.

She appeared on national television on ESPN-2 in Destination Outdoors: Elk Photo Safari and on the Outdoor Life Network in Elk Country Journal in 2003, and Pittsburgh's KDKA television feature by Dave Crawley on Pennsylvania Elk Country in 2006.

She is the 2007 winner of the Pennsylvania Great Outdoors Elk Expo commemorative patch photo contest, for her photo of a bugling bull, titled, Evening Serenade. Carol also won the 2007 Elk Expo People's Choice Photo Contest with her photograph entry, Snow Squalls in the Forecast.

Carol, who served as Director of Health Services at the University of Pittsburgh at Bradford for many years, now resides in Elk County.