A big life and death struggle is quietly taking place in Maine’s woods right now.

White-tailed deer are trying to survive one of the longest and deadliest winters in the past 50 years. And thousands of them, mostly pregnant does and last year’s fawns, are starving to death, or soon will.

It is the harsh reality of nature at work. This is the northern edge of the deer’s range, after all.

But as with most everything in our modern, managed environment, we’re playing a role, too.

Maine has about 247,000 deer. And even in a mild winter – like the last couple – many die before spring.
In a bad winter, as many as 30 percent of northern Maine’s herd, and 12 percent of southern Maine’s can die.
This is one of those winters.

“We’re going to have some pretty serious losses,” said Lee Kantar, lead deer biologist for Maine’s Inland Fish and Wildlife Department.

Deer are not built for harsh winters. They don’t hibernate like bears and can’t walk across snow like snowshoe hares or Canada lynx.

They essentially survive by storing up as much fat as possible beforehand and making it last by conserving energy. They congregate in wintering areas called deer yards, mature stands of spruce or other evergreens that offer protection from deep snow and cold winds.

In mild winters, it’s easier to stay warm and move around to look for woody food, which is about as satisfying as it sounds. But once snow gets more than a foot deep, it takes too much energy to go anywhere. “When you pile up 6 feet of snow on the ground and you’re a deer, life is going to be incredibly difficult,” Kantar said.

He expects thousands of deer to starve by the end of this month and others to come through the ordeal so weak they’ll die next winter, if not sooner.

“This kind of extreme winter is really going to be felt for a long time,” he said. “It started early and it never went away. Deer were sinking up to 2 feet for an extended period. That is about as bad as you can get.”

Even now, in far northern Maine, as much as 5 feet of snow are still on the ground, he said. In southern Maine, a shrinking snow pack is allowing deer to move around, but they’re still starving. It will be weeks before spring delivers nourishing sprouts and leaves.

Feeding deer, although well-intentioned, is always a bad idea, biologists say, even this year. Sudden changes in diet can poison them, and drawing them out of the woods for grain can do a lot more harm than good, Kantar said.

In a winter like this one, however, deer yards can literally be a lifeline. And that’s where humans come in.
The quality and quantity of Maine’s deer wintering areas have declined because of roads, development and logging, according to Kantar and other experts.

Maine protects wintering areas in northern forests through protective zoning in some cases and, more often, with voluntary no-logging agreements with timberland owners. But some of those voluntary agreements have not held up as millions of acres of timberland changed hands in the past decade.

Calls for stronger protection of deer yards last year led to the creation of a state task force which, in turn, led to a renewed commitment by landowners and state officials but, so far, no new regulation.

The reality check taking place in the woods right now is sure to intensify that conversation.

“It’s going to bring things home,” Kantar said.

E-mail this entry to a friend