To Survive in Texas, Black Bears Need an Open Border

As a child Diana Doan-Crider loved hearing her grandfather’s tales of the grizzly bears and wolves he saw in the early 1900s while working to build Mexico’s railroads through the mountains. A Tepehuán Indian from Durango Mexico, he told vivid stories, and his knowledge of nature inspired her to become a wildlife biologist when she grew up and to spend decades researching black bears in northern Coahuila’s mountains, just across the Texas border.

That was an important time for black bears, which had all but vanished from Texas in the 1950s following decades of hunting, trapping and habitat loss. The animals started to return to Texas’s Big Bend National Park in the late 1980s. At first it was just a handful of bears, but soon visitors began reporting dozens sighted a year, including females with cubs.

Doan-Crider’s pioneering research, published in 1996, helped confirm what Texas wildlife managers long suspected: Black bears were regaining a foothold in southern Texas, not from other U.S. states but from Mexico.

Mexico has a thriving bear population, thanks to its mountainous expanse and greater cultural acceptance of the animals, both of which also made the recolonization possible, says Doan-Crider, who is now an adjunct professor at Texas A&M University and executive director of a nonprofit called Animo Partnership in Natural Resources.

“Mexico’s bear habitat is so huge, and some local densities are the same as what you’d see in Alaska,” she says. “You can see 25 bears in one day.”

The bears, Doan-Crider and other researchers found, were crossing into Texas from Mexico through the Sierra del Carmen Mountains, which are only separated from the mountains in Big Bend by the Rio Grande River.

Big Bend, which was established in 1944 when there were no bears in the area, is a stunning and geologically diverse landscape of mountains, desert and river that stretches for more than 1,200 square miles along the border where West Texas dips into Mexico. It’s also good habitat for the returning bears, and it quickly became a safe haven for the animals.

Today, with the bears still reestablishing themselves, Texas lists the black bear as a threatened species.

This fledgling recovery could now be in jeopardy, however. Experts worry that any obstacle to the animals’ movement, such as President Trump’s proposed border wall, would set back hard-fought efforts to rebuild the population — especially with climate change intensifying the episodes of drought and wildfire that serve as key drivers for bears expanding beyond their usual range.

“The ability for wildlife to move across that border is so important,” says Patricia Moody Harveson, a research scientist at Borderlands Research Institute at Sul Ross State University. “We would not have black bears in Texas anymore if it wasn’t for that transboundary movement across that border.”

It’s not clear whether the Trump administration plans to construct the border wall through Big Bend, although it continues pressing forward with plans to build the wall through the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge and a 100-acre butterfly refuge.

The National Park Service declined a request to be interviewed for this story.

A volunteer ranger at the park, who did not want to be identified, told The Revelator that talk of the wall is, “all buttoned up.” But he said it “goes against everything the park stands for” and wondered how a wall could be built when heavy machinery is banned from the park, even for the removal of old telephone poles.

Bears, of course, are only one of many species, from reptiles and amphibians to bighorn sheep, which would be affected by the proposed wall. Beyond Texas, conservationists recently claimed that building the wall would be “game over” for recovering jaguar and ocelot populations in Arizona.

Jonah Evans, state mammalogist at the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, agrees with Harveson that, “when it comes to bears, being able to travel across large areas is important to recover their populations and thrive in a landscape as challenging as West Texas.”

Evans can’t say how big the bear population is in the state, but he says they’ve mapped breeding populations in just three of Texas’ 254 counties.

“Right now, we have very few,” he adds. “It’s a pretty isolated population.”

Bears are tough to count, because they cover huge distances and are expensive to catch and monitor. Texas Parks therefore relies on data from trail cameras and from voluntary reports of bear sightings by ranchers, such as at deer feeders.

Based on those reports, Evans says Big Bend National Park is “clearly one of the core breeding populations that we have.”

He adds, “If you don’t have breeding, you don’t have bears.”

Climate Change and Cross-Border Movement

Extreme weather events appear to be a key driver for bears crossing the border, according to Doan-Crider’s research.

“We’re now looking at how drought and events like wildfires are a driving mechanism for expanding a bear population,” says Doan-Crider. “Normally females might not leave their home range, but once those droughts hit, once wildfires come in, they will cover huge distances to find some habitat.”

Her research correlates maps of food sources like oak trees (acorns) and prickly pear with bear movements, documenting that female bears will travel twice as far as in times of drought, or what she calls the “threshold of misery.”

Black bears can have enormous ranges during these periods, as great as about 380 square miles, she says.

This can drive bears from Mexico into the United States or force them to journey in the opposite direction. Other researchers, including Dave Onorato and Raymond Skiles, the recently retired wildlife biologist for Big Bend, have also documented these border crossings during drought. At one point in the early 2000s, when food was scarce in Big Bend, all the bears left for Mexico and then returned a year a half later. Similarly, Harveson noted that two bears the Borderlands Research Institute was radio-tracking crossed over into Mexico during the severe 2012 drought.

Invisible Wall

As “horrified” as she is by the proposed border wall, Doan-Crider says she’s more concerned about what she calls the “invisible wall,” or the lack of social acceptance and lack of preparation bears hit when they cross into Texas.

Most wildlife managers and researchers are focused on Big Bend, but Doan-Crider says she thinks bears are also crossing into Texas farther east, from the mountains just south of Laredo, where Mexican land cooperatives are protecting bears. They don’t stand a chance on the U.S. side, she says, because of the likelihood that they’ll come into contact with humans who aren’t used to living with bears, or with landowners who have deer-hunting operations.

Meanwhile, Harveson says the breeding population at Big Bend appears to be spreading into the Davis Mountains, about 150 miles to the north. That could also put them at risk.

“As bears move into areas they haven’t been in for more than 50 years, we look for that potential for human-bear conflict,” she says. The Borderlands Research Institute plans to study the corridors that bears are using to traverse this distance, as well as their use of habitat and movements within the Davis Mountains. “We’d like to help make the adjustment easier.”

Doan-Crider agrees that more steps need to be taken to protect the black bears that have returned to their former range.

“If Texas wants to do something about bears, they should be putting a lot of money into educating the public,” she stresses.

Doan-Crider says the question of the wall, and the bigger question of bear recovery, is more about, “Do you want to have bears in Texas?”

If the answer is yes, then keeping the border open — especially at Big Bend — is vital.

Border walls are bad for wildlife

November 1, 2016

In 1996, Botswana erected an 83-mile fence along its border with Namibia. The goal was to protect domestic cattle from the highly contagious foot-and-mouth disease. Within a year, though, the barrier had snared five giraffes, one elephant, several antelopes and numerous other wild animals.

In the 20 years since, border barriers have proliferated to unprecedented levels — and become one of presidential candidate Donald Trump’s favorite talking points. But while attention has focused on the human consequences of a more bordered world, the effect on wildlife is also dramatic.

Trump has proposed sealing off the U.S.-Mexico frontier with a “great” expansion of the current wall, which spans about 650 miles of the United States’ 2,000-mile southern front and is already harming animals. Bison along that border have been spotted climbing over barbed-wire fencing to get to food and water. And according to a 2011 study, 16 species in California have had as much as 75 percent of their range blocked.

“Completing a barrier that’s impregnable for animals would be a really major problem,” said Jesse Lasky, a biologist at Pennsylvania State University and author of that study. The move could affect more than 111 endangered species and 108 migratory birds, according to a U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service provisional report. The Trump campaign did not respond to multiple requests for comment on the proposed wall’s potential effect on wildlife.

Two recent studies have shed light on the often-overlooked effects walls have on wildlife. The fences can “curtail animals’ mobility, fragment populations and cause direct mortality,” according to an article published last month in Review of European, Comparative and International Environmental Law. Authors of another study, released earlier this year in the journal PLoS Biology, write that barriers “represent a major threat to wildlife.”

The latter study focused on Slovenia, which has for about a year been fencing its border with Croatia in an attempt to block an influx of refugees that the government fears could morph into an outright “humanitarian catastrophe.” So far, 111 miles of barbed- and razor-wire fencing have been erected along about one-third of the frontier. A slew of mangled animal carcasses — especially deer — have been found in, on or around the “temporary technical obstacles.”

“These events are horrid,” said co-author Aleksandra Majic, a biologist at the University of Ljubljana in Slovenia. But, she added, “what is worrying in the long-term is the fragmentation that such fences cause.”

Slaven Reljic, another co-author, tracks brown bears along the Slovenia-Croatia border and has found that of 33 radio-collared animals, 16 cross between the two countries. Majic said she has observed similar movements among wolves.

“Conservation success for large carnivore populations here is largely depending on this trans-boundary connectivity,” she said, adding that lynx along the border are most at risk. The population hovers at around a mere 20 animals and is in danger of local extinction within the next decade, Majic said, adding that “habitat fragmentation would speed up this process.”

Barriers are hardly new, of course. Construction on the Great Wall of China began in the 3rd century B.C., and it still splits habitats today. The Berlin Wall divided East and West Germany throughout the Cold War. When that fell in 1989, triggering the figurative collapse of the Iron Curtain, people began moving and trading en masse across increasingly porous European borders. Wildlife, biologists documented, also reaped rewards.

Not only could they move freely, but “countries began working together,” said John Linnell, an ecologist at the Norwegian Institute for Nature Research and the lead author of the Slovenia study. That meant improved conservation legislation, practices and coordination.

Although the postwar chaos occasionally proved detrimental to wildlife — economic hardship, for instance, led to a rise in unregulated poaching that contributed to a collapse in the saiga antelope population in parts of the former Soviet Union — the end result was very encouraging, Linnell said. He pointed to successes such as the reintroduction of wolves into Germany and the creation of a European Green Belt, among others. It felt, he said, like a “world where borders of all types were softening and disappearing.”

That quickly ended.

Today, the number of barriers around the world is at an all-time high, said Élisabeth Vallet, author of “Borders, Fences and Walls: State of Insecurity?” Although the flood of displaced people into Europe and illegal immigration to the United States have contributed to that surge, Vallet pointed to the late 1990s, when rapid globalization helped revive nationalist sentiment, as the beginning of the proliferation. The 9/11 terrorist attacks drastically accelerated the trend and, by 2010, her research found, 45 new walls had gone up, from Morocco to India, totaling 18,000 miles in length.

“We’ve been sleeping, pursuing dreams of a borderless world,” Linnell said, “while the borders have been closing all around us.” Now, however, conservationists seem to be paying attention.

Even fences aimed at improving conservation, the RECIEL study noted, have had unintended consequences, like when poachers fashion the fencing material itself into snares. But the study’s authors also highlighted a few ways walls intended to keep people out have inadvertently aided animals, such as Israeli-constructed barriers that have helped shield the endangered Israeli gazelle from Palestinian hunters in the West Bank. Overall, however, lead author Arie Trouwborst of Tilburg Law School in the Netherlands said that “in the great majority of instances, the impact is negative.”

In an email, the Slovenian government characterized its efforts as “an urgent and temporary measure, which is necessary for the protection of the state.” The ultimate scope of the project, officials say, depends on migrant flows into Europe. In case the obstacles do become permanent, they insist they are working to find ways of ensuring uninterrupted animal migration and conforming to the European Commission’s Habitat Directive, a legal cornerstone of the continent’s conservation efforts.

Linnell’s study, on the other hand, argues that a permanent wall in Slovenia would “undo decades of conservation and international collaboration efforts.” At the very least, he said that he would like to see more consideration given to wildlife — for example, by designing small openings for animals.

But all migrants, both human and nonhuman, tend to gravitate toward the same spaces along borders. That makes stopping one group but not the other an extremely difficult task.

“I think there is a fundamental conflict,” Lasky said. “Animals like to disperse under cover of vegetation and darkness. But so do people.”