There’s nothing quite like putting a picture of a dead bear in the paper to jump-start a discussion about bear hunting. But the conversation has been going on since before last Wednesday, when the story of a black bear harvested by bow-hunter John Sanders reignited the hunting controversy.
For the record, I’m not a bear hunter. Never have been and I’m pretty sure I never will be. But I live in bear country. I see bears on the trail, by the river and in the neighbor’s trash can. Day or night, they’re around.
Denver, on the other hand, is not bear country. There was a time, long ago. But if you want to see a bear anywhere east of Morrison these days, you’ll either need tickets to the zoo or a seat at Sports Authority Field. If you want to discuss them, Jerry Apker, statewide carnivore manager for Colorado Parks and Wildlife, is your man.
Apker and other biologists at CPW are currently studying the black bear population in Colorado, sharing some research at a recent presentation to the Parks and Wildlife Commission. The studies have multiple objectives, including building population models, evaluating management strategies to reduce human-bear conflicts, and the effectiveness of hunter harvest as a tool to manage bear populations.
One blunt reality already revealed: Like it or not, Coloradans are likely to see more dead bears.
For about 20 years now, the CPW has been saying there are 10,000 to 12,000 black bears in the state. Those numbers are overdue for an update. “There are substantially more bears out there than previously estimated,” Apker told the commission.
Like virtually every other animal in Colorado, black bear populations are managed by CPW. And as state populations rise while habitat continues to shrink, effective management grows increasingly difficult. Bear conflicts between people, property and livestock have been rising steadily over the past 15 years, Apker said.
As a result, game wardens are spending an increasing amount of time and resources on bear conflicts in mountain communities. It’s not uncommon for such issues to result in bear deaths.
Putting down bears is not a task relished by game wardens. And, as CPW northwest regional manager Ron Velarde noted, the agency would prefer to reduce the time it spends on bear conflicts and “shift the mortality to the hunters.”
But the agency recognizes that, in the public eye, bears are different from other game animals. Since Smokey was rescued from a forest fire, people have considered bears cute and cuddly, even though they can, and occasionally do, kill people.
“A lot of black bear management is what society will tolerate, not what the habitat will sustain,” Apker said.
In 2010, roughly 9,500 bear hunters harvested 800 black bears statewide. Yet, conflicts continue to rise, largely because animals are pushed into human-populated areas as their numbers grow. Expect the number of bear hunting tags to increase as a result.
“It’s not just about killing more bears, but killing more bears for a while is certainly going to be a component of the management,” Apker said.
The usual outcries of “the bears were here first” and “we’re invading their home” are certain. And while they may be true, it doesn’t change the situation. Nor does it justify accusations of “murder” hurled at folks like Sanders who hunt legally and ethically while financing CPW officers managing populations so the invaders don’t wind up as victims.
Humans have been encroaching on bear habitat for centuries. Take Denver, for example, or Interstate 70 on any given weekend. People aren’t about to give the land back to the bears.
Yet, in roughly two-thirds of the state, the bears not only remain, they thrive. And while they aren’t likely to receive it, modern bear hunters and the agency that regulates them actually deserve some credit for that.
Scott Willoughby: 303-954-1993 or swilloughby@denverpost.com
