Conservation
Countdown
T
he recent decision on listing the
Greater Sage-Grouse under the
Endangered Species Act (ESA)
has been described as a “middle
ground.” It acknowledges that the bird deserves
to be listed, but puts the grouse in line behind
creatures whose demise appears more imminent.
The “non-listing” listing was a disappointment
for those who have fought for years to get the
ultimate level of federal protection for the bird.
But, it provides a sort of two-minute warning –
an opportunity to step up voluntary efforts to
conserve and restore habitat and possibly
avoid the mandatory constraints posed by a
future listing.
on this specific plant. Soft sagebrush leaves make
up as much as 99% of the adult birds’ winter
diet. Hens build their nests under the protective
cover of sagebrush. But, as the West developed,
this habitat was fenced, paved over by towns,
plowed under for crops, and more recently,
being lost to oil and gas development. While it
may seem as if there’s still plenty of sagebrush in
the West, closer examination shows that a lot of
the habitat has been degraded, often by invasive
plants, to the point that the birds can’t use it.
It’s easy to get caught up in the rhetoric
surrounding the ESA. For some, the grouse
is Montana’s Spotted Owl. To others, it’s the
canary in the coal mine. What cannot be denied,
Interior Secretary Ken Salazar told the New
York Times, is that the decline of the SageGrouse “… reflects the extent to which open
land in the West has been developed in the last
century…”
The sagebrush steppe of Montana rolls across
some 27 million acres and represents the most
intact expanse of Sage-Grouse habitat left in
the West. Even though losing ground in many
places, the birds are expanding their hold in the
Centennial Valley. Its high elevation is a hostile
environment for West Nile virus, which poses
a serious threat elsewhere. Likewise, Montana’s
vast Northern Prairies haven’t been fragmented
and disturbed by the energy development that’s
decimated habitat in parts of Wyoming and
Canada. It remains among the best remaining
habitat left. But the pressure is on.
The result: Greater Sage-Grouse have lost
more than half of their native habitat and their
numbers have plummeted from 16 million to
about 500,000.
About half of Sage-Grouse habitat in Montana
is privately owned and operated as large ranches.
Ranching has preserved a lot of sagebrush
steppe, but it’s not without its hazards.
Greater Sage-Grouse are what scientists call
sagebrush steppe “obligates”; that is, dependent
Fence posts can provide perches for
raptors that prey during mating and nesting
times. Grouse have also been known to fly
into hard-to-see barbed-wire fences and be
killed on impact.
Grouse, and other birds, can fall into deep
stock watering tanks and, unable to escape,
they drown.
The presence of humans, cattle and machinery can drive the birds away from their
leks (dancing grounds) and nests.
Simple and low-cost measures include flagging
fences with reflective material, providing water
tank escape ramps and scheduling grazing
rotations around the birds’ activities. The
federal government is providing technical
assistance and funds to landowners who
improve habitat for Sage-Grouse. The Nature
Conservancy is a part of these efforts through
our many public and private partnerships. At our
Matador Grassbank, we provide discounts on
grazing to ranchers who conserve Sage-Grouse
habitat on their own land, within two miles of
leks. These collaborations are enabling us to
restore Sage-Grouse habitat across a broader
area than ever before – all with the knowledge
that the countdown clock is ticking.
G
reater Sage-Grouse are the prairie’s odd
cross between sumo wrestlers and Elton
John in camo. Even when not in their
flamboyant courtship display, they easily
out-size their closest kin in both weight and girth.
So when they puff up their chests and flare their tail
feathers as part of the courtship dance, it’s no wonder
they command our attention. Of course, all the wing
flaps, throat pops and head-butting are aimed at
attracting nearby hens, who gather around the dancing
grounds, or leks. The performance pressure for the
males is no small thing. Sage-Grouse hens are picky.
Many males may put on a show, but the majority of the
females will mate with only one or two of the group.
Then, the hens head off to their nests, where they
rear their broods on their own. Many older females
return to their same nest sites year after year, so if it is
disturbed by development, they simply don’t breed.
The courting males’ unusual popping sound comes
from air sacs on their throats that they inflate, like two
enormous egg yolks, as part of their display.
-Bebe Crouse
©John Carlson
MONTANA landmarks
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