If you were to look at a map of the town of Sarıkamiş in Eastern Türkiye, you would think that its coniferous forests extend forever.

A good example of the forest edges here. Everything eventually surrenders to the trillions of blades of grass. Credit: Nathan Murthy

But when you zoom out, it becomes apparent that the town, perhaps best known today for its ski resort, stands alone. A stronghold of pine trees in a sea of grass.

Amongst these forests are some of the world's top predators: brown bears (Ursus arctos), gray wolves (Canis lupus), and lynx (Lynx lynx). Using GPS Collars, the environmental organization KuzeyDoğa has been tracking all three. I was lucky enough to join these operations.

It takes a team to catch these animals: my professor Çağan Şekerçioğlu who started KuzeyDoğa, wolf biologist professor Josip Kusak, to nail down the methods, and biologist Emrah Çoban, who works tirelessly to manage the site. Put all this together, along with numerous volunteers, and you get the first large carnivore project in Türkiye. Since 2011, 179 animals have been tagged (103 brown bears, 50 wolves, 25 Eurasian lynx, and one wild boar), each individual contributing valuable data for conservation.

Curious about how it all works? Join me from my first day on.

Traplines and Barbeque

Driving around with Dr. Kusak and Nate Roberts checking the traps. Credit: Nathan Murthy

Breakfast is at 6 am. Everyone discusses terms like "traplines," "the last forest," and "barbecue." I only knew the last term. Traplines are self-explanatory:  traps dispersed through a certain area. The last forest is the location of one of the traplines to our northwest. There are also traplines in "Hamamlı" to the East, the "National Park" to the north, the "West Forest" to the (fill in the blank), and the "Central Forest" directly in the middle. All told there are five traplines and two cars to check them daily.

Dr. Kusak, Nate Roberts, a University of Utah master's biology student, and I traverse the bumpy dirt roads of the West Forest. We suddenly stop. "Nothing," Kusak says.

"Nothing," Nate confirms.

We continue driving along but I am completely lost. Soon enough, I learn we have passed a wolf trap. Eventually, I learn the design. Underground, there's a rubber foothold with a trigger point in the center and a chain attached to it . . . and an anchor. Aboveground, a sponge doused in rotting meat, liver and fecal matter. In theory, wolves will investigate the pungent sponge and trigger the foothold. The anchor, dragging behind the fleeing animal, will catch on a root or a bush, stopping them, literally, in their tracks.

We check the remaining traps all with the same result, nothing.

Then comes the final term I heard at breakfast: "barbecue." We eat grilled meats and homemade cake followed by a leisurely volleyball session.

The day is over, or so I think.

The Ghost in the Cage

Dispersed throughout the forests are box traps, large, metal boxes with sliding doors. Within each box is a small wire that shuts the doors when triggered. The trap is designed to alarm us when it is set off. At about 10 p.m. that night, the alarm goes off. We rush over immediately.

A 360 kg brown bear (Ursus arctos) workers named "Karadayı." The collars automatically fall off the bear’s neck at the end of two years of monitoring. Credit: KuzeyDoğa Society.

Within the trap is a Caucasian lynx. We tranquilize the animal and carefully lay it on a blanket. We take blood samples and measurements. Finally, we place a GPS tracking collar around its neck. Then, we sit and wait for it to gain consciousness and return to the forest. It is difficult to see an animal like a lynx up close, to feel it with your own two (gloved) hands. It’s surreal in that these animals are ghosts. They may never be seen by anyone again.

The Bear Incident

I assume our luck will run dry for several days, but it doesn't. The next day, our other car finds a small brown bear cub stuck in a trapline. We rush to the other car to see it. When we arrive, the bear is still under anesthesia. Still, we drive carefully in our approach not to startle it.

The second I open my door I hear a loud roar. The team runs back to our car, but the back door is still open. The bear tries its best to infiltrate. Luckily, our car horn scares it away.

Bears are no joke, but after it is all done and everyone is safe, all we could do was laugh.

Wolves and Picnicking

A familiar face here in faraway Sarıkamiş. Credit: Nathan Murthy

Several days later while routinely checking a trapline Josip announces, "Trap missing!" In a nearby bush is a 36-kg gray wolf. Josip quickly tranquilizes it, like the tactician he is. As we bring it back and lay it down, I'm thinking that it kinda just looks like a shaggy stray dog.  It turns out the wolf is in the process of shedding its winter coat.

"We should name it Shaggy," I say.

"Shaggy, sounds good, " Josip agrees.

In the KuzeyDoğa database, this wolf will now be known as "Shaggy." As Josip completes other tasks, Nate and I waited near the wolf while it is recuperating. We chat over a picnic of cheese, olives, cookies and coffee. He tells me how he went to college when he was younger, didn't like it but ended up starting at the U several years later at the age of 28. He loved it so much that he came back for a master’s degree at 32.

To me, Nate is a great example that it is never too late to invest in your education. It has clearly paid off for him; he is planning on publishing his work on bear rubbing tree behavior. We continue to chat while the wolf gets to his feet, eventually disappearing into the forest.

Another ghost.

The Dump Bears of Sarıkamiş

The bears in this photo are of various sizes. The dump and its food resources bring them all together. Credit: Nathan Murthy

At this point, the large carnivore project is essentially finished. We have no more wolf collars. But there is one last thing I want to see: the trash dump. Since Sarıkamış' forests are so small, the natural resources available for the bears are limited. Every single night, bears make their way to the trash dump where they feed on food scraps.

At 10 p.m. we pull up to the site and make our way into the dump. I put on a mask to alleviate the putrid smell of burning trash.. As we drive through plastic, food scraps and glass, many bears come into sight, revealing themselves from behind the smoke. Countless brown bears lay out on the trash, searching for food. Some of them are big, over 200 kg, and several are cubs. Numerous stray dogs join in on the feast too. They don't seem to mind each other's company due to the availability of food.

I feel conflicted. To me, brown bears are impressive animals to be respected, but here they behave like raccoons. We count 53 bears, each of them scurrying off as we pass by, almost like they are ashamed to be there, but they are doing what they can to feed themselves. Like all creatures, including humans.

Survival

During my time in Sarıkamış, I got to see some of the world's most notorious animals. And well  . . . they weren't what I expected them to be. They were scared; their only desire was to survive. And with human-wildlife conflict becoming ever more common, it's vital to continue this work.

We need carnivores to provide ecosystem services such as wild herbivore population control and the removal of carrion to keep our forests healthy. At the same time, I learned that reality is often different from perception. People, especially in the U.S., are afraid of large carnivores. But I think if we took a little bit more time to understand them, we'd realize that they exhibit fear. They are afraid.

And, as with us, the first order of the day for these animals, notorious or not, will always be to survive.