Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T L Y M O N T A N A M A G A Z I N E • S U M M E R 2 0 1 9 28 With flipper-like hind feet nearly doubling the size of their dexterous fronts, beavers walk awkwardly. Because of their clumsy biomechanics and having to re-lather in odorous, waterproofing anal gland oils, living on land is difficult. But by damming streams, beavers surround themselves in safe, predator-resistant moats that make food accessible. eir knack for lignin and cellulose digestion is nothing short of miraculous, but their construction feats are more visible: until the record was knocked by a Google Earth discovery from Alberta in 2007, Montana beavers near ree Forks had built the world's largest beaver dam. eir marvel was longer than seven football fields, high as a tractor trailer, and wide as four grown humans laid down end to end. But there are some key differences between beaver dams and the concrete monstrosities at the likes of Hungry Horse or Fort Peck: the rodent's work is messy, leaky, and constantly needing repair. is is not failure, or sloth. No, these imperfect, unceasing adaptations are actually how streams live. Consider the willow, which resprouts and thrives with beaver her- bivory. Or wolves, who relish the smelly rodents' taste. Or Montana's state fish, the westslope cutthroat trout, who benefits from the cool, complex waters that beaverworks create. ese impacts make beavers quintessential keystone species upholding wetland and riparian eco- systems. And these habitats are the real treasure of the Intermountain West, covering a mere two percent of land area, but attracting a whop- ping 80 percent of its plants and animals. Writer Ben Goldfarb went so far as to dub beavers "ecological and hydrological Swiss Army knives," in his recent, award-winning book Eager: e Surprising, Secret Lives of Beavers and Why ey Matter. And this biodiversity benefits people, too. Many of us dwell on level floodplains prepared by beavers of yore, others are buffered with beavers' de facto firebreaks, and almost all of us drink or irrigate with water that beavers, somewhere, have stored. So whether you're hunting the deep woods of Beaver Creek near Condon, hiking Beaver Creek trail north of Helena, camping at Beaver Creek by ROB RICH V OICES FILTERED THROUGH THE PONDEROSA PINES AND DOUGLAS-FIRS, ECHOING ACROSS A SECLUDED COVE IN A LAKE. en, in an excitable whisper at the water's edge, a father crouched, pointed, and said, "Oh look, look, a beaver." I sat still on the opposite shore, having come to watch the animal that had astonished me, in almost in the same way, a few weeks earlier. Sign of North American beavers— whittled sticks, canals, dams, lodges—are conspicuous, but the animals themselves are relatively quiet, nocturnal, and discreet. So take heart: you are not alone if you reflexively stop to admire the singular textures of a wetland, only to find yourself nearly submerged in surprise at the SLAAP! from the tail of the habitat's maker. BRETT SWAIN B eaver • O tter • M uskrat • M ink M ontana's S em i- A quatic M a mm al Quartet Beaver

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