ETCHED IN STONE | Scene Three: The Fall of the Columbian Sharp-tail

We've all heard the adage that Columbia River salmon once returned so abundance that one could “walk across their backs.” Well, the story is similar for the Columbian sharp-tailed grouse. When the west was settled and land development began for agriculture, namely grain production, these birds numbered in the millions. Eastern Washington was largely shrub-steppe habitat and supported hundreds of thousands of Columbian sharp-tailed grouse. They were commonplace, like European starlings today. Like the passenger pigeon, no one considered that they would ever face extinction.

A tragedy of being human is that we often fail to notice a gradual decline in something so familiar until we've slipped past the point of recovery. The vast Washington shrub-steppe disappeared and acre at a time, taking the sharp-tailed grouse with it; the bird’s initial decline was noted as early as the 1950s. 

The day's heat was infiltrating my flannel as Finn and I climbed the butte. From the flat ground on top, we gazed upon a small basin where the sagebrush gave way to abundant grasses. The scene conjured a vision of our first sharp-tail hunt in Montana. 

A grassy wash ran down between long, gradual slopes. Low-growing, emerald green prickly pear cactus with robust white spikes were scattered about. Young sagebrush about knee high filled the wash while juniper speckled the higher points with clay sheet rock and shallow red soil. With no expectations, we embarked on the hunt of a lifetime, having lucked into the area simply because it was a big chunk of contiguous public land. 

Most birds escaped us, flushing far ahead and chuckling madly as they flew. Still, on occasion, we pinched them between us with topography to our advantage, like the quail Finn and I had taken less than an hour before climbing the butte. The rises were slow, and the shooting easy. 

The chuckling sharp-tail flush echoed through my mind as we descended into the basin. However, we would never experience that flush on the scablands. Just seven remnant populations of Columbian sharp-tailed grouse remain in Douglas, Lincoln, and Okanogan Counties. The total Washington population is fewer than 1,000 birds and they occupy approximately three percent of their historical range. The largest population remains on the Colville Reservation.

The sharp-tailed grouse has been a cornerstone species for Tribes across the North American prairie. Their dramatic and flashy dance has made its way into the culture, and the abundant food source was a godsend. 

I envisioned the Columbia-Sinkiuse People pursuing these birds with bows and arrows, sticks, and stones. Shooting sitting birds was likely the most effective, but I imagined young warriors taking them from horseback, even dropping them from the air with the stick-and-string. Sharp survival skills are important, but I’d bet the best archers liked to show off a little while gathering grub. I've kept an eye on the coulee walls for a pictograph that tells the story of hunting sharp-tails but have yet to discover one.

The Colville Tribes are deeply invested in Columbian sharp-tailed grouse conservation efforts, working alongside the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife (WDFW), Bonneville Power Administration (BPA), and local Public Utility Districts in the upper Columbia River. According to the WDFW, the Colville Tribes began assisting with translocation efforts as far back as 1999 (possibly before) by providing birds from the Reservation to be released at the WDFW 9,000-acre Scotch Creek Wildlife Area in Okanogan County. The BPA paid for the Scotch Creek land acquisition with mitigation funds for the operation and electricity sales from Chief Joseph and Grand Coulee Dams.

Among Washington’s seven fragmented sharp-tail habitats, the total population range encompasses 537,960 acres out of a historical 19.7 million, the largest area of which is 128,742. The population is associated with 39 active lek sites, while 87 lek sites documented since 1954 are inactive. Climate change and wildfire present two significant hurdles for the species across its North American range. The Columbian sharp-tailed grouse is classified as “endangered” in Washington and protected from hunting.

Colville legend says that Panther once gave Coyote two arrows: one arrow to kill deer and another to kill birds. Panther warned Coyote not to shoot either animal with the wrong arrow, lest the arrows be lost. Eventually, Coyote forgot Panther’s guidance and shot a pheasant with the deer arrow, but the pheasant did not fall. He then shot it with the bird arrow, and the pheasant flew away with both arrows. 

When Coyote looked upon Finn and me from the coulee rim, he may have been eyeballing the scattergun to replace his lost arrows. Maybe jealousy led him to distract me with the rumbling of the approaching stampede. I imagine Coyote has hunted his share of sharp-tails.