Primal Wilderness Rambling From Algonquin

“Live with wolves and you learn to howl.” ~ Proverb

For decades, visitors to Algonquin Park in the heart of Ontario have gathered to hear talks from naturalists at the outdoor theatre. Often the subject is a specific animal or plant found in the park, or the history of the place. On certain nights in August, the subject turns to the wolves of Algonquin. These wolves were long thought to be a smaller variant of northern timber wolves but in recent years have been identified as eastern red wolves, long gone from much of the East. The Algonquin wolves move around the park as a protected species, doing their part to end ancient human disdain of a magnificent animal.

After these talks, the tradition in Algonquin has long been to go out on what's called a Wolf Howl. I've had the pleasure of joining these excursions and hearing the wolves. When my family lived West of the park, there were occasions I'd wake up late in the night, hearing a pack howling together, all with distinct voices. Sometimes, they'd be far off in the distance. Other nights, you'd swear they were on the property. Sometimes the howls called out to other members of the pack. Other nights, it was to tell alien packs to keep clear of their territory. Occasionally, it was simply because the wolves felt talkative. In every case, the howl of a wolf is an achingly beautiful thing to hear.

The park naturalists started the program back in the Sixties, posting a notice at some of the campgrounds about what they'd be doing, expecting a handful of people to show up. Instead, they got a crowd, and the program took off from there. In the years since, the Wolf Howl has proved to be a popular part of Algonquin life in August. The night before, naturalists go out on the roads in what's called the corridor, stopping at regular intervals where they think wolves might be close, and simply howling or playing recordings of wolves howling. If there are wolves in the area, they respond. Since they stay in the same locale for several days, odds are they'll be close by the following one as well.

The next night brings the public. At the theatre, a naturalist talks about the species and its importance. Then visitors head out in cars (all very orderly and done to precision) for the spot where the Wolf Howl takes place. You can often see over a thousand people on these nights. Everyone leaves their cars and waits for silence, while park staff at both ends stop traffic from coming through. When all is ready, the naturalists start to howl.

Moments later, the reply comes, if the pack is still around. They might be far off in the distance. They might be very close. They may be on both sides of the road. Still, they’ll respond, their vocalization filling the night. It's a magical moment, hearing nature up close like that. If you're ever in Algonquin Park, it's something you must do.

I had my own Algonquin wolf encounter. Late one day on a hiking trail, I sat on a cliff for a rest, looking at a lake down below. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I looked up and there he was. The wolf came out of the woods, further down the cliff, and paused there at the edge. I was looking at him and he looked back at me. There was enough space between us that neither of us felt threatened by the other. It was as though he also came to take in the view. I like to think that was one of his favourite spots as well. After a few moments, he trotted back behind the tree line.

It's a rare privilege to look into the eyes of the wild, to share that kind of experience with a wolf. They are magnificent, bright, social - nothing like the stories would have you believe. Those who've been lucky enough to have an encounter with one, whether a momentary glance during a hike or the sound of a howl late in the night, know just how memorable that privilege is.

William Kendall is a writer, photographer and rock climber from the Ottawa Valley. When he's not working on his world domination scheme (no golfers allowed), he can be found writing the forthcoming Heaven & Hell, plus his personal blog Speak Of The Devil.