The Nearctic Tundra: Visitor Experience. (Version with Pictures attached.)
You wander over from the Arctic Holarctic, the sounds of gulls behind you, headed for the Nearctic Tundra. Your first sight is of a cluster of flags (1). Flying above the others are the flags of Denmark, Canada and the United States. One level down are the flags of Greenland, Québec, the Northwest Territories, Nunavut, the Yukon and Alaska. The greeting sign proclaims: “This is North America’s farthest north: The Nearctic Tundra, where you never know when you might see a wolf!”
Past the flags, your first view is of a two acre enclosure with two herds on the other side of a shallow moat. This is the High Tundra (2). The landscape is planted, but austere, mostly grasses and sedges with some shrubs. One of the herds is of Peary’s Caribou, the smallest and lightest colored of the North American subspecies, native to the islands of the High Arctic, and the other is of Musk Oxen. You are struck by how they are smaller than you expected. With them in the enclosure is a subspecies of the Arctic Hare (Lepus arcticus monstrabilis), also native to the High Arctic islands, one of the largest of the world’s lagomorphs (rabbits, hares and pikas) and a form that keeps its white pelage year round.
All three of these in the wild can be prey for the predators whose enclosures form the backdrop (behind deep moats with steep walls). To your left are Wolverines (3)(10), and to your right are Arctic Wolves(13), the far northern subspecies of the Gray Wolf.
A sign explains that, as you might encounter in the wild, this herd of musk oxen is all male. The breeding herd can be seen in another exhibit. Once a year, in late June/early July, a few of the males are given the opportunity to fight it out for dominance and the position of breeding bull.
You stroll south along the herds’ enclosure and at the south end you have a clear view into a moated enclosure for a female Wolverine (3). They are by nature solitary animals, and the Zoo’s male and two females are kept separate except during the breeding season. Their enclosures are designed to simulate nature, where a single male’s territory would overlap with multiple females’ territories. It is a bit startling to read that an adult Wolverine is ferocious enough to prey on adult caribou.
You then enter the Atlantic Tundra Cliffs aviaries. Three of them house small flocks of large gulls, each of the three groups distinctive in appearance, the Iceland Gull (4), Kumlien’s Gull (5), and Thayer’s Gull (6). You are somewhat surprised to learn that they are each just a subspecies, all of the same species.
Across from them are a group of birds on whose eggs and chicks the gulls would happily prey (7): Atlantic Puffins; Purple Sandpipers; Barnacle Geese (a cliff nesting goose); and Harlequin Ducks. The artificial wave machine pounds surprisingly rough water against the rocky shore of the aviary, but this is the habitat these birds prefer.
Behind the Atlantic Cliffs, you find another female Wolverine (9), and through her enclosure you have a view beyond in to a large yard (8) in which you can see the breeding herd of Musk Oxen and the Barren Ground Caribou, larger and browner than the Peary’s.
Behind the Atlantic Cliffs, you find another female Wolverine (9), and through her enclosure you have a view beyond in to a large yard (8) in which you can see the breeding herd of Musk Oxen and the Barren Ground Caribou, larger and browner than the Peary’s. Along with them is another subspecies of the Arctic Hare, but this one changes for the summer to a brown pelage.
Next door to the Wolverine is her mate in a two part enclosure (10). The other part is over next to the other female and the Peary’s Caribou, and they are linked by an overpass that looks like a giant log over the visitor’s trail (11), the top is fortunately well encased in Plexiglas and fencing. The Wolverine has well-earned its reputation for ferociousness, competitor as it is with the much larger wolves and bears.
You pass by the Arctic Tundra Discovery Center (12), nicely decorated with Inuit animal art. As you walk along outside the center, you pass by the male Wolverine’s other yard, then have another view into the Peary’s Caribous and Musk Oxen yard, and after that you have a view into the Arctic Wolf enclosure (13). Arctic Wolves are white, smaller than Gray Wolves and less afraid of humans. Two of them stare back at you across the moat, more curious than the skittish reaction you might get from their southern cousins who know humans all too well.
The wolves, too, have a multi-part enclosure, and you can see a tangle of boulder s and logs leading to an overpass (14). One of the wolves is sitting up there, enjoying the view through the Plexiglas of the primates passing underneath.
Past the wolf overpass, as you walk along the wolf enclosure, on your left are three aviaries. The first of these (15) holds a pair each of two iconic species of birds: the Lesser Sandhill Crane, the far northern (and smallest) subspecies of North America’s second tallest bird; and the Red-throated Loon, the smallest and most arctic of the five species of loons, the only one of the five that can take off from the water without a running start, and considered the closest to the basal lineage from which loons evolved. Loons are notoriously sensitive to disturbance, hence the large space that they share with only a pair of cranes.
Next to them is one of the tundra’s most feared predators, the Gyrfalcon, the world’s largest falcon (16), a threat to birds and mammals alike.
The next aviary is in fact half of a large, double aviary that runs along the wolf enclosure for a hundred feet and stretches over four hundred feet along the Arctic Ocean Councourse, the zoo’s northern boundary (17). The cliffs, grass, sand and salt water are home to a set of sea and shore birds from the tundra (almost 100 birds of almost two dozen species), including Tundra (or Whistling) Swans, and several of their smaller waterfowl cousins: Snow Geese; Greater White-fronted Geese; Ross’s Geese; Cackling Geese; Red-breasted Mergansers; Greater Scaups; and Green-winged Teals. There is a colony of the cliff-nesting Black-legged Kittiwake, a small gull that presents no threat to the other birds, and a wide assortment of wading birds. There are three species of plovers, short-billed waders that hunt by sight rather than by feel: the American Golden, Black-bellied/Grey, and Semipalmated Plovers. And there is a host of species from the sandpiper family: a subspecies of the Whimbrel, the most widespread of the world’s curlews (which have down-curved bills) ; the Hudsonian Godwit (godwits have long bills, either straight or slightly upturned, and are long-legged); the Long-billed Dowitcher (like a godwit but shorter-legged, like a snipe); the small and stocky Ruddy Turnstone; and six species actually called sandpiper: the White-rumped, Stilt, Pectoral, Semipalmated, Buff-breasted and Least Sandpipers. (The last is the world’s smallest shorebird.)
Half-way down the long side of the aviaries is a visitor “underpass”, a ground level walkway through the middle of the twenty meter tall aviary over which the birds have no problem flying (20). The large aviary with the separation at ground level gives the several species which are monogamous and territorial during the breeding season, room to establish separate territories but also the opportunity to associate during the non-breeding season, as most usually do. This applies to the Tundra Swans and most of the members of the sandpiper family. (The polygynous White-rumped Sandpiper is an exception.)
Once through the walkway, you have another view of the Gyrfalcon aviary and, across from them, another of the tundra’s avian predators: the Rough-legged Hawk (19).
Walkng back through the underpass and around the tundra aviary to the far side of the hawk aviary takes you to another quiet aviary (15a) with just two pair of birds: another pair of Lesser Sandhill Cranes; and a pair of Yellow-billed Loons, larger cousins of the Red-throated Loons. The two quiet aviaries are also joined by a passage above a service building between them, which gives the cranes the option of flocking together during the non-breeding season.
Across from them is another large yard, this one representing the Alaskan Coastal Tundra (21), with a herd of Grant’s Caribou, but no Musk Oxen (which has been introduced to Alaska but is not a native there) or Arctic Hare (also not native).
A trip around to the far side of their yard brings you to an aviary for the sea and shore birds of the Alaskan Coastal Tundra (22): Northern Pintails; Stellar’s Eiders; Harlequin Ducks (they have a peculiar distribution, found on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts but not inbetween); Aleutian Terns; colonies of three species of auklets, the Crested, Parakeet and Least Auklets; Pigeon Guillemots; colonies of Horned and Tufted Puffins; Pelagic Cormorants; and several waders: Red-necked Stints; Western Sandpipers; another subspecies of the Whimbrel; and the Bar-tailed Godwit.
Through the aviary you can see a second, with a pair of nother of the tundra’s predators: the Short-eared Owl (23).
Once you have passed the owls' aviary, you come to another of the large, quiet homes for loons, this time the Pacific Loon. Keeping the pair of loons company is a pair of the Alaskan subspecies of the Willow Ptarmigan, the state bird of Alaska.
And next to them is still another avian predator: the Common or Northern Raven (25), in this aviary displaying the subspecies native to northernmost North America, from Alaska to Greenland, a large bodied raven, with the largest bill of the several subspecies and highly glossed plumage. While this is a corvid, this is no crow; the Common Raven averages twice the body mass of the American Crow.
Just past the ravens are a pair of Northern Alaskan Foxes (26), a distinctive subspecies of the Red Fox. And nest to them are their cousins, Arctic Foxes (27). You keep on going along this predator’s row, and you find the Arctic Fox’s comrade in white camouflage, the Snow Owl (28).
Just past the Snowy Owl, you turn the corner and head down a gently sloping path, the owls to your left, and another view into the wolf enclosure to your right. You are heading for a low slung building, “Small Animals of the Tundra”. By the time you reach the entrance of the building, you are about two feet ground level. The exterior of the building is, except for two sets of doors, entirely glass, all fronting on the enclosures of one of five different tundra predators: the ravens; the two kinds of foxes; the wolves; and the owls. Around the interior are displayed the small birds and mammals of the tundra, and the intent of the design is to give you, the visitor, a feel for their existence: surrounded by predators in a landscape with limited cover.
When you first enter the building, you see good-sized tundra landscaped enclosure (30) displaying the Arctic Hare, giving you a close up view of them that you could not get outside, and the Arctic Ground Squirrel.
Past a set of museum type exhibits on the vulnerable, threatened, endangered and recently extinct animals of the North American tundra, is another scene set on the Alaskan Coastal Tundra (31) including the Alaskan Willow Ptarmigan (in case you did not get a view of them in the loon aviary), the lovely Bluethroat, the Western Yellow Wagtail, and the Gray-headed Chickadee (a/k/a the Siberian Tit).
Past another set of exhibits showing the food chain of the North American Tundra and around the corner you meet the small birds of the tundra (32): a different subspecies of the Willow Ptarmigan; the Lapland and Smith’s Longspurs; the Common and Hoary Redpolls; the American Pipit, a subspecies of the Buff-bellied Pipit; the Horned Lark; and, despite their names, the Savannah and American Tree Sparrows.
Around another corner, and you enter the small mammal corridor. The first group of glassed in cages are for the northern Alaskan subspecies of the Singing Vole (33), named for their distinctive call, and next to the vole, the Cinereus or Masked Shrew (34) and the Barren Ground Shrew (35); the latter was previously considered a subspecies of the former.
The next set of cages houses Least Weasels (38 & 39), the world’s smallest carnivore. There are two males and two females, each housed separately since they are generally solitary animals. During the breeding season, they are promiscuous, so each of the males spends some time with each of the females.
Just past the weasels are the lemmings of the tundra, six different species: Northern Collared (40); Victoria Collared (41) (no picture); Ungava Collared (42); Richardson’s Collared (43); Arctic (44); and North American Brown (45).
You leave the Small Animal building and head back up the walkway. You turn right on Mackenzie Way, and then left on Churchill, both named for rivers of the Canadian tundra. Just as you reach the Hudson Concourse, named for the bay, of course, you have the opportunity to take the Tundra Walkway along a ridge surrounded by a moat into the middle of the enclosure for the Barren Ground Caribou, the breeding Musk Ox herd, and Arctic Hare, which also brings you closer to the background predator exhibits for the wolves and wolverines. Standing at the end of the walkway, you have something of the feeling of what it would feel like to be standing on the North American tundra itself. Caribou and Musk Oxen graze around you, and, just a little ways away, a wolverine puts its nose into the wind. Not far away, a pack of white wolves eyes the whole scene, and behind them you can see the stiff-legged walk of the sandhill cranes. The wolves are beautiful, but if the moats were not there, you would shudder. The sun is headed down. A wolf points its muzzle to the sky and lets loose a howl. It is answered by the cry of a loon. The dominant male Musk Ox lifts his head and snorts. You can hear the cries of gulls, as if from the coast of the Arctic Ocean.