EAST LAKE — In the sadder, more gruesome labor of wildlife conservation, a new count of dead wildlife on the asphalt of two strips of highway within Alligator River Wildlife Refuge continues to reflect the merciless decimation of living creatures by vehicular traffic.

A new report, “US 64 Roadkill Monitoring Survey Year One Interim Report,” released Aug. 13 by the nonprofit Wildlands Network, counted more than 5,000 vertebrates representing 144 species, as well as 1,050 snakes, 1,186 turtles, and 1,529 frogs dead alongside the highway or flattened on the pavement. The first year of the two-year study covered Aug. 1, 2024, to July 31, 2025.

“It’s pretty remarkable carnage, and we’re sure that’s an underestimate, because some things get removed by vultures,” Ron Sutherland, the conservation group’s chief scientist, told Coastal Review.

The updated information will be valuable to planning for proposed wildlife crossings under sections of U.S. Highway 64 and nearby U.S. 264, a need highlighted over the years by numerous vehicle strikes of critically endangered red wolves. Huge bear and deer that run into the road are also increasing hazards to human life, especially at night. 

Although the red wolf had once roamed much of the Southeast, the only wild population of about 30 red wolves, including about a dozen pups, is currently managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Alligator River and Pocosin Lakes refuges within a five-county recovery area in northeastern North Carolina, a good portion of which is intersected by the two highways. 

“One happy surprise is we didn’t see any red wolves,” Sutherland told Coastal Review. “One of the reasons we set out to do the project, one of our goals, was to keep the road clean of roadkill.”

Vehicle strikes, in addition to gunshots, have threatened recovery of the species.  Wolves have been known to be drawn to the highway to eat the dead animals, and tragically suffer the same fate as their would-be meal.

“Research is an important step in the construction of wildlife crossing structures,” the report states. “In order to be cost effective, it is imperative to know where hotspots of wildlife road-crossing activity occur so the sites can be chosen that are most effective both in mitigating wildlife road collisions and maintaining habitat connectivity.”

The study route was chosen to inform planning efforts by North Carolina Department of Transportation, Fish and Wildlife, and the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission to develop proposals for wildlife crossings and fencing installations on U.S. 64, the report stated, “with the immediate goal” of reducing wolf strikes.

“We also realized that providing more recent roadkill data would be essential as a fresh baseline for evaluating any future wildlife crossings that were installed on the highway,” according to the report.

Earlier roadkill surveys along U.S. 64 were completed between 2008 and 2011 as part of the North Carolina Department of Transportation planning for a proposed 27.3-mile-long widening and bridge replacement project. The road-widening plans, which had included numerous wildlife crossings, have since been dropped, but construction of a replacement bridge connecting Dare and Tyrrell counties over Alligator River is underway. Construction plans include wildlife crossings and under-road tie-ins at both ends of the bridge.

Sutherland said that the survey team chose to drive at a less pokey pace, about 35 mph or so, and skipped weekend surveying, due to the increased amount of traffic now on the highway. Wildlife officers were informed about large carcasses such as bear so they could be promptly removed, and smaller creatures were scooped up and tossed into the woods. Not pleasant, but unfortunately dead animals along the road are not unusual.

“Overall, you know, I’ve had a lot of years of experience working down there and seeing the wildlife before we started the survey,” Sutherland said. 

While he wasn’t shocked by the continued high numbers of roadkill, he said he didn’t expect to see so many birds. In one period of time, after a rare snowstorm, the technicians found hundreds of deceased yellow-rumped warblers alongside the road, many of which were apparently struck while seeking patches of grass without snow cover. It may not prove Darwin’s theory of natural selection, but intelligence matters even for birdbrains.  As Sutherland noted, of the 68 different types of dead birds — totaling about 800 — there were only three crows, the geniuses of the bird world.

“We know how to keep all these other wildlife species from getting hit on the road, because you can build crossings under or over the road, with fencing to steer them to the right places,” he said. “And it works for basically everything, but the birds. That’s going to take some work to figure out.”

Last December, U.S. Federal Highways’ Wildlife Crossing Pilot Program awarded a $25 million grant to build crossings on U.S. 64 by Buffalo City Road, a red wolf “hot spot” in East Lake on the Dare County mainland where the animals often cross into the refuge. Wildlands Network teamed up with the Center for Biological Diversity, another conservation nonprofit, to raise an additional $4 million in private donations for matching funds, Sutherland said.

If all goes as hoped, Sutherland expects that construction of the crossings could start in late 2026

“It’s expensive because they’re having to raise the road up to be able to put underpasses underneath,” he said, adding that design details are still being worked out.

With the project construction including what he described as a kind of “big ramp,” there will be opportunities to also put small crossings and tunnels on each side for the little crawling, slithering and hopping species, hopefully allowing a total of six to 10 crossings.

“But that’s going to be kind of a win-win situation, because that way that at least part of Highway 64 is going to be elevated,” Sutherland said. “And with sea level rise and storms and hurricanes and so forth, it’s going to be a good for climate resiliency, too, to have the road elevated.”

Part of a series about the effects federal budget and staff cuts and the cancellations of programs and services are having in coastal North Carolina.

MANTEO — In the six months since the chaotic and seemingly random cutting in the federal government began, a terrible uneasiness has descended on the northeast corner of North Carolina, where all of the state’s nine national wildlife refuges employ neighbors and family members who live in the rural communities in which they’re located.

At least 10 Coastal North Carolina National Wildlife Refuge Complex staff and five employees of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s regional Ecological Services office in Raleigh, so far, are believed to have voluntarily left their jobs, whether nudged by coercion or incentives.

With staff forbidden to speak with media, and ongoing legal challenges and limited public information creating uncertainty, no one appears to know what will happen to their refuges.

“I just found out we should be getting some staffing numbers from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in the next couple of weeks,” Howard Phillips, the Southeastern representative for the National Wildlife Refuge Association, a nonprofit advocacy and support group for the refuges, told Coastal Review, citing informed but unofficial sources. “The dust seems to be settling a little and (the agency) is starting to get a handle on where they stand.”

But Phillips, who retired at the end of 2020 as manager of Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge in Tyrrell County, says he fears that serious consequences are already baked into the refuges’ cake, no matter what the government decides to do. The lack of trust engendered by often abrupt, unexplained cuts of staff, research and budgets as well as the “crippling” brain drain of expertise, experience and local knowledge has only made the situation more problematic.

“Could the administration suddenly decide they want to hire everybody back and start doing conservation again?” he continued. “That would take at least six months, probably 12 months. They’d have to be trained.”

The stark reality, he added, is that without knowing the Trump administration’s timeline or goal in the current upheaval, it’s impossible to understand the long-term impacts and impractical to expect much to change, much less improve.

“I mean, they’ve just given no indication that they’re going to do anything that’s going to reverse the trend right now, which is down, down, down, down,” Phillips said.

An unnamed spokesperson from the agency’s public affairs office ignored Coastal Review’s request to authorize or facilitate a refuge staff interview, but responded to several questions about impacts on North Carolina’s wildlife refuges in a May 23 email.

“As part of the broader efforts led by the Department of the Interior under President Trump’s leadership, we are implementing necessary reforms to ensure fiscal responsibility, operational efficiency, and government accountability,” the spokesperson wrote. “While we do not comment on personnel matters, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service remains committed to fulfilling our mission of conserving fish, wildlife, and natural resources for the American people.” 

Refuges in the coastal complex encompass nearly a half-million acres of farmlands, swamp forests and pocosin peatlands, intersected by rivers, streams, canals, lakes and sounds within the nation’s second-largest estuarine system.

The nine refuges — Alligator River, Pea Island, Mackay Island, Currituck, Mattamuskeet, Pocosin Lakes, Cedar Island, Swan Quarter, Roanoke River — are stretched along vast swaths of geography in the coastal plain that provide habitat for unique species and globally important ecosystems.

For instance, the critically endangered wild red wolves, the only surviving in the world, roam within a five-county recovery area based out of Alligator River, descendants of Spanish mustangs range free in Currituck, and thousands of migratory birds and waterfowl passing along the Atlantic Flyway overwinter every year at Mattamuskeet and Pocosin Lakes.

Mattamuskeet, the state’s largest natural lake, is undergoing an innovative and intensive watershed restoration project many years in the planning. And Pocosin Lakes, named for the Native American term for “swamp on hill” because of its boggy peat soil, has been studied by Duke University researchers for its ability to remediate carbon pollution. The refuge has also nearly completed an extensive rewetting project to restore the ability of the pocosin peat to absorb carbon dioxide and resist wildfires.

Two major wildfires in and around the refuge in recent decades have burned deep in the ground for many weeks, spewing tons of carbon back into the environment, with one smoldering for six months before it was finally extinguished.

Therein lies the dilemma — and the risk — to the refuges: What happens when there’s no one available to take proper care of the refuges, and to even continue the conservation mission?

Pocosin Lakes, for instance, with the recent retirement of former manager Wendy Stanton, no longer has a refuge manager.

“You know, with Wendy gone now, I don’t know that there’s anybody left at Pocosin Lakes that really understands that hydrology restoration and how it works,” Phillips said.

But it’s more than the upper-level staff, said Bonnie Strawser, president of the Coastal Wildlife Refuge Society, a local nonprofit group that supports all of the eastern North Carolina refuges. It’s also the loss of staff that maintain buildings and trails, she said, as well as the biologists who monitor water and test soil.

Strawser, who retired in 2020 after 40 years with Fish and Wildlife as visitor services manager, said that the project leader for Coastal North Carolina National Wildlife Refuge Rebekah Martin has designated acting managers in each refuge, but that’s in addition to their regular jobs with the refuges.

Martin is based at the agency’s Roanoke Island headquarters but is not authorized to speak to reporters. According to a 2023 article on the coastal refuges website, Martin oversees about 400,000 acres of habitat with more than a dozen endangered or threatened species. At the time, it said, the complex had 35 employees and more than 400 volunteers.

“We are currently down to 10 staff, and this is regular O and M — operations and maintenance — funded by general funding, refuge funding,” Strawser said in a recent interview. “Now that does not include firefighters or law enforcement, because they are funded through different programs.”

Strawser said that there were no probationary employees in eastern North Carolina, so no one had been outright fired. Some staff who agreed to resign under one of the agency’s two rounds of the deferred resignation program, she said, were quickly shut down and put on administrative leave for varied periods of time while collecting their salaries.

Cuts in both the U.S. Forest Service and Fish and Wildlife Service will also hamper the agencies cooperative response to wildfires and disasters, including with the national interagency incident management teams. Strawser is a member of one of three teams in the southern area.

“I don’t know what in the world we’re going to do when fire season comes,” she said. “They stood down our team. It’s not going to be available, they said, at least until after July.”

As Strawser noted, a lot goes on behind the scenes to keep the refuges humming, including procedural processes to keep records and run programs, as well as have sponsors to maintain the “casual hire” personnel to respond to emergencies.

“But the Fish and Wildlife Service, because they lost so many people in the administrative positions, they don’t have anybody to handle the payments and the travel, so they can’t sponsor” for a team member, she said.

For the time being, the public many not notice much difference when they go to a refuge, Strawser said.

“The visitor centers are run by volunteers,” she said. “The public programs are conducted mostly by volunteers.” But there’s only three maintenance people for their nine national wildlife refuges.

“There’s been no talk of closing anything, but it’s just common sense there will problems if there’s nobody to grade the roads, if there’s nobody to do the mowing on the road shoulders, she said. “And if there’s no ‘daylighting’ of the roads, they’ll get overgrown, the sun won’t reach down, and the mud doesn’t dry out and the road is destabilized and before you know it, they’re not drivable.”

Mike Bryant, who was succeeded by Martin, had served as refuge manager for 20 years, from 1996 to 2016, and he witnessed decreasing support for the refuges from the federal government, he told Coastal Review in an interview. After retirement, he had also served as consultant for the National Wildlife Refuge Association, and was former president of the Coastal Wildlife Refuge Society. Although he said he keeps in touch, he is no longer directly involved with either group.

Since about 2010, Bryant said there has been a steady decline in staffing.

“You have refuges where there were multiple people, and with some of them, there’s just one person left, and so that’s part of the story,” he said. “So it had nothing to do with the past 60 or 90 days, whatever it is now.”

But it’s not just mandated reductions in staff that threaten the refuges, he said. The management challenge is also an aging workforce that may not be replaced.

“You got over half a million acres of National Wildlife Refuge in multiple counties, and spanning across North Carolina to the Virginia border, with all kinds of infrastructure and management mandates and no staff to get those mandates done,” Bryant said. “They’re just wondering, how are we going to meet our responsibilities if we’re the only ones left? It’s a morale buster.”

After being fully staffed around 2003, he said it seemed as if the Department of Interior stopped prioritizing conservation and Congress slowly began losing interest in supporting the refuges.

“The Fish and Wildlife budget has so many facets to it, so many other responsibilities under various laws, endangered species and ecological services and all these other entities within the agency, fisheries and all those things, are all important,” Bryant said. “But Congress was never convinced to budget specifically for operations and maintenance of national wildlife refuges.”

Meanwhile, scores of new refuges came on line in the last 25 years. And rather than hiring more personnel, more work was heaped on less staff.

“I was hired in 1996 to manage Alligator River and Pea Island,” Bryant said. “Two years later, when the manager left Mackey Island and Currituck refuges, the regional office called me and said, ‘Hey, we want you to manage those two.’ All of a sudden, I had four refuges.”

Two years later, he was told to hire and supervise a new manager at Pocosin Lakes. Then staff was reduced, forcing him to share staff between the refuges. Next, Roanoke River was added to his responsibilities — along with the 90-minute drive each way. During all those years, he was bumped up just one pay grade.

Bryant said he gets why people get frustrated with the inefficient, cumbersome aspects of the federal government. But he remembers back when the Clinton administration had reduced both staffing and regulations, and not only succeeded, but ended up with a balanced budget.

“We went through all of those things without ever feeling like the sky is falling,” he said. Rather than taking rational steps to achieve efficiency, the interest now seems more in “just destroying the government, constantly degrading it, and yes, crafting corruption.”

“There’s a few bad actors, no doubt, always, in every organization everywhere, no matter what the enterprise,” Bryant added. “There was a rational process to deal with bad employees, grounded in policy. And the policy was grounded in regulation, and the regulation was grounded in law.”

The first official unit of the National Wildlife Refuge System was Pelican Island in Florida, established for conservation in 1903 by President Theodore Roosevelt. Today there are 570 refuges and 30 wetland management districts on more than 150 million acres entrusted to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services and enjoyed by 69 million visitors.

Bryant is rooting for not just survival of the struggling refuge system, but its revival.

“I think we’ll recover,” he said. “I’m optimistic about that. But we’ll be deeply scarred.”

Featured Image

An angler recently tries his luck from beneath the Scuppernong River Bridge on the the Scuppernong River Boardwalk at the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge visitor center in Columbia, in Tyrrell County. Money from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law was appropriated to replace the boardwalk, a project that was announced to take place in fiscal 2026. Congress directly appropriated $455 million to the refuge over five years for programs related to the previous administration’s America the Beautiful initiative announced in 2021. The nonprofit National Wildlife Refuge Association has said that continuing resolutions, such as the emergency funding bill signed into law last week, throw refuges into chaos and uncertainty and can prevent new project starts. Photo: Mark Hibbs

​Second of two parts. Read Part 1.

By the time Chase Luker pointed the headlights of his king cab truck down a narrow country road that returned to Columbia, nighttime blanketed rural Tyrrell County.

A hunter safety specialist with the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, Luker had spent his evening with Coastal Review meandering along farm tracks on private land, with permission, and the dirt lanes of the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, to catch a glimpse of American black bears.​

As the unofficial tour of Tyrrell County came to a close, Luker said that he’d never met anyone who hates bears.

“Everybody loves bears, but the people that love them the most are the people that hunt them,” Luker said, adding the hunters “care a lot about the bears and what they can do to protect the species.”

Bears also seem to be a source of pride for Tyrrell County residents and businesses. During an early dinner at the Mexican grill downtown earlier that day, two locals shared photos of bear sightings.

A longtime hunter, Luker manages the 13-county District 1 that spans from Currituck to Carteret County and Greene County is the farthest county west. He also enjoys writing, carving decoys and, when he has time, guiding private hunting tours.

Luker noted that 150 years ago “we didn’t use canola oil, butter, we used bear fat, bear grease, rendered down.” He said there are numerous layers involved in what draws people to bear hunting. There’s a lot of legends surrounding black bears, and it’s “part of our American fabric.”

Black bear hunting heritage in North Carolina dates back to early Native Americans and was adopted by early colonial settlers, “Bear hunting continues to be an important tradition in North Carolina, bringing together friends and families, providing food for the table, and teaching outdoor and naturalist skills, the commission’s Game Mammals and Surveys Supervisor Colleen Olfenbuttel told Coastal Review recently.

She was the black bear and furbearer biologist, when she was responsible for managing and conserving black bears and 17 furbearer species, from 2007 until earlier this year, when she took on her current role.

“For decades, most bear hunters used the assistance of trained hounds to pick up the scent of a bear and track it,” Olfenbuttel continued. “In fact, the official state dog of North Carolina is the Plott hound, which was bred for hunting bears in North Carolina starting in the early 1800s.”

For a long time, the state’s black bear population suffered. “Black bears were once restricted to remote areas and reached very low population levels in the mid-1900s,” according to the agency. Hunters and conservationists pushed for bear hunting regulations beginning in the 1930s and for the state to establish a wildlife resources agency to manage wildlife and enforce wildlife laws.

Hunters joined in the conservation effort when the commission began managing the species in the 1970s, she said. The bear hunting community contributed by providing data needed to make science-based management decisions, and helped fund conservation and research efforts through hunting license sales and the Pittman-Robertson Act of 1937, which imposes an excise tax on firearms and ammunition.

Olfenbuttel added that “The restoration of black bears is also due to the reforestation that occurred, starting in the 1930s, and due to changes in human attitudes toward bears, as well as the remarkable adaptability of black bears. Black bears have adapted well to urbanization, human development and habitat fragmentation,” she said.

Public response

The North Carolina Bear Hunting Association, which formed in 1985, and past hunting clubs have worked with the agency over the decades, including on designating more thousands of acres of black bear sanctuaries, according to a March 2023 letter on its social media page.

In the letter, the organization notes that it has taken issue with how the agency has handled past investigations into illegal poaching, and the fact that the commission has online public hearing because “the anti-community has learned to take advantage of on-line public hearings and meetings.” The online meetings were in response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

During the 2021-22 session, those who are against bear hunting announced their support of a bill to “disapprove a rule of the Wildlife Resources Commission allowing hunting of bears in certain areas previously managed as bear sanctuaries.” The bill had a first reading but didn’t go anywhere after being referred to the house rules committee.

The bill was in response to the commission changing in February 2022 the title of “designated bear sanctuaries” to “bear management areas” and allow permitted bear hunting in three western lands previous off limits.

The commission made the choice to open up a permitted season to stabilize the growing bear population in the western part of the state.

Bear Defenders said on its its website that on Feb. 25, 2022, “Despite the overwhelming public opposition that included 2,744 comments, 86% percent in opposition, and our petition with over 7,600 signatures, the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission (NCWRC) voted unanimously to open up the Pisgah, Panthertown-Bonas Defeat, and Standing Indian Bear Sanctuaries to bear hunting and hunting with dogs. In addition, they approved a regulation that changed the term ‘designated bear sanctuary’ to “‘designated bear management area.'”

During a public comment hearing in January 2022, Olfenbuttel said that with a restored and increasing bear population coupled with a diverse and increasing human population and their associated development, “the Commission recognized the need to change from restoration efforts to management efforts to ensure the long-term viability of the bear population as well as assure  and maybe even increase acceptance and support for the restored bear population to do so require developing a statewide Black Bear management plan.”

She added that the bear population had nearly doubled in size between 2005 and 2022, and one reason the commission has not been able to stabilize the bear population is that areas in the mountains where hunting is not permitted are increasing largely due to development.

In Defense of Animals said in a press release at the time that, “Despite public outcry, North Carolina has approved the violent killing of black bears in three of the state’s bear sanctuaries. With few exceptions, black bears have been protected throughout their natural habitats in North Carolina for decades. Thankfully, a new bill has been introduced to stop these shortsighted plans. We must urge North Carolina legislators to support House Bill 1072 to save vulnerable bear populations to agonizing deaths.”

Regulated bear hunting

With the state bear population recovered, Olfenbuttel said the commission’s objective is to stabilize the population so that growth is no more than 0-1%. “Basically, we want to maintain the number of bears we currently have on the landscape, with the bear population neither increasing or decreasing.”

She said that regulated bear hunting is an effective way to keep the bears healthy and reinforce a bear’s natural fear of humans, while allowing the animal to be used, particularly for its meat.

A survey of hunters shows that 99.6% use the bear meat​ they harvest, Olfenbuttel explained. Mostly they feed their household, share the meat or donate it.

“I estimated that the annual regulated bear hunting season provides over 610,000 plates of food for people, which is especially helpful for those North Carolinians that live in food deserts or who are on fixed incomes and have limited financial resources to purchase meat from a store,” she said. Adding that doesn’t account for other ways hunters use a harvested bear, such as rendering the fat, eating the organ meat, and using the bones to make bone broth.

She said that with the commission’s success in recovering the bear population, “we are seeing increased interest from all over North America, and beyond, to hunt bears in North Carolina, partly due to the number of black bears we have, but also due to the size of our bears.”

And bear hunting in eastern North Carolina has definitely grown in the last five or six years.

Luker has led guided hunting tours in the past. “There’s not much to do in Hyde and Tyrrell counties” and he stumbled across the opportunity. Though he enjoys guiding, he said the commission is his priority and “really believes in what the agency does.” In a quick exchange last week, he mentioned that he hasn’t had time to lead any tours this year.

While Luker drove during that recent evening through miles and miles of uninhabited, protected lands, he said that coastal North Carolina wasn’t even on the radar as a destination for black bear hunting until the last five or six years.

Some influential hunters were invited to the area, had a successful trip and put it on social media, and the industry has grown.

There are several outfitters that offer guided hunts on the coast, costing anywhere from $2,000 to $15,000 per person, and in some cases more. The amount depends on the company, length of hunt – usually from one to five days — and what is included in the package like lodging or meals.

Luker said the rates haven’t always been that way, just in the last four or five years, but seem to be leveling out. The guided hunts bring in what he called “high-net-worth” clients who “want to do something that they can’t do anywhere else in the world.” It’s becoming an economic driver.

“They contribute so much money to the local economy here,” he said.

License, e-stamp required

Luker reiterated that the hunter needs a big game license, which can be purchased through Wildlife Resources Commission, and a bear management electronic stamp, or e-stamp.

The license holder is only permitted to take one black bear a season. The bear must be more than 75 pounds and sows, or female bears, with cubs are off limits. The hunter must notify the commission of their take by calling 1-800-I-Got-One.

Bear hunting isn’t like deer hunting, though. “It’s not tricky,” he said. “Bears have a great nose, but they can’t see. Camouflage is not an important aspect of the hunt. You’ve got to wear blaze orange, and you have got to bring a firearm that’s capable of taking the animal clean.”

Luker said that for most hunts offered by an outfitter, the guide usually brings five to 10 hunters to approved land early and gets them ready to hunt by 30 minutes before dawn, when hunting is allowed to begin.

Some outfitters have a processing facility where they can weigh and dress the animal, though sometimes a hunter will remove internal organs on-site before moving the bear to make it lighter.

The hunt must be in a designated bear management area and the hunter must use approved methods only during bear hunting season, which is usually announced about nine months before it starts. Once the guides know the dates, the clients are contacted and told what to expect and what to bring.

“Generally, about every 10 years, our agency will do a bear management plan and make recommendations,” Luker said, but staff use data from year to year to establish the season.

Olfenbuttel is an author of the management plan, the most recent written while she was black bear and furbearer biologist from 2007 to 2024, and in the game and furbearer program.

She said the program works to ensure the long-term viability and sustained harvest of 71 game and furbearer species by providing the best possible scientific information on the status and management of each species and its habitats so that regulations and management are based on objective data and participate in planning and coordination of management directives based on sound science.

“For eastern North Carolina, that means monitoring the bear population using various metrics and surveys, such as harvest rates, age-at-harvest, sex ratio of harvest, number of vehicle-bear collisions, number of human-bear conflicts, as well as conducting bear research,” she said.

The commission is currently estimating the density and population of black bears across the 37 counties making up the Coastal Plain Bear Management Unit, which Olfenbuttel said is the first time the agency had conducted a study of this scale in eastern North Carolina for data to inform future bear management.

“The program uses all the data collected from multiple sources to monitor the status of the bear population and make informed, science-based management recommendations,” Olfenbuttel continued.

Because of regulated hunting, Olfenbuttel said the commission is meeting bear population objectives in eastern North Carolina, but as development increases, people and bears are living more closely together.

“Since bears can easily adapt to living near or in communities and neighborhoods, it will become increasingly common for people to see a bear in their neighborhoods and towns,” she continued. “This is normal, but people can do their part to live responsibly with bears by following the BearWise Basics, which mainly involves securing bird feeders, garbage, and not feeding or approaching bears.”

Note: Coastal Review will not publish Thursday and Friday this week in recognition of the Thanksgiving and Native American Heritage Day holidays, respectively.

First of two parts.

The American black bear population is healthy on the North Carolina coast, but that hasn’t always been the case.

The species was in jeopardy in the 1900s for multiple reasons, but particularly habitat loss, and by the mid-1900s, bears could only be found in the most remote coastal swamps and mountains, according to the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, which manages the species.

Since the commission stepped in 50 years ago, the population has been restored to nearly its historic range, Game Mammals and Surveys Supervisor Colleen Olfenbuttel recently explained to Coastal Review.

“The successful recovery of North Carolina’s black bear population was primarily due to conservation and research efforts implemented by the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission from the 1970s to present,” she said.

The only kind of bear in the state — and in eastern U.S. — these omnivores are mostly found in the mountains and on the coast. In eastern North Carolina, bears usually prefer uninhabited lowland hardwoods, swamps and pocosins.

Where bears outnumber people

After an early dinner at the Mexican grill in Columbia and chat with the locals about bear sightings, Coastal Review met with Chase Luker, a hunter safety specialist with the commission, at the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge visitor center.

The goal was to cruise around the refuge, which has one of the largest concentrations of black bears found in the United States, according to its website, and some farmland, with permission, with the hope to see bears in their coastal habitat.

Luker, as he steered his king cab truck out of the parking lot and toward the refuge, said “this is Tyrrell County, where bears outnumber people two to one, but there’s only about 3,500 people in the county,” and it’s the same story for Hyde County. The bears probably outnumber people there two to one, as well.

Dusk is the best time of day to see a bear because, “Bears are smart,” Luker said. They have an aversion to humans because humans “mean trouble,” and “just try to avoid confrontation. But late in the day, you’ll see bears starting to come into these fields. They’ll stay in them as long as they possibly can, and will make their way out around daybreak.”

Luker is originally from Alabama, but has been in eastern North Carolina for decades. He has managed youth programs in the region and is currently specialist for the hunter safety program’s 13-county District 1, which covers the northeastern quarter of the state, from Currituck County south to Carteret County and Greene County being the farthest west. The program provides free firearm safety courses while it emphasizes ethics and responsibility, conservation and wildlife management, wildlife identification, survival and first aid, specialty hunting and tree stand safety, the website states.

Luker cruised down a narrow country road before turning onto a wide gravel lane that seemed to stretch for miles. As dusk crept over the refuge, he expertly maneuvered his truck along the network of bumpy dirt paths, taking turns only a local would know. His familiarity with the area also is in part because he’s led hunting tours on nearby private land for an outdoor experience business.

He stopped every 15 to 20 minutes to check out the different paw prints on the dirt tracks, or slow down with hopes to catch a bear as it pops out of the woods or skitters down a tree.

During one of these stops, he nodded toward a stretch of land the size of a few football fields and explained that the breeding season for black bears is in May and June. During that window, bears are everywhere. He added that when people spot a bear limping, it’s usually not because the bear has been run over or been caught in a trap. That bear has most likely been defeated in a fight.

“When they fight, they fight with their front feet, and they bite and chew,” and it takes them a few months to heal, he said.

After breeding, the sows, or female bears, have delayed implantation, which means the egg is fertilized but doesn’t begin to develop until late fall. The bears give birth in January or February, according to the agency.

Species management

The Wildlife Resources Commission manages all aspects of the species, including conservation measures, hunting regulations and seasons, as well as research, which has focused on bear habitat use and home ranges, procedures for estimating bear populations and reducing vehicle collisions.

Olfenbuttel helped write the agency’s current bear management plan that outlines how regulated hunting is key to achieving and maintaining black bear population objectives.

The current stated goal for the agency is to “use science-based decision making and biologically-sound management principles to manage black bear populations in balance with available habitats and human expectations to assure long-term existence and hunting opportunities.”

Olfenbuttel has been in the wildlife profession for nearly 30 years. Before taking on her current supervisor role earlier this year, she had been the black bear and furbearer biologist since 2007. She earned her bachelor’s in wildlife biology from Ohio University and master’s in wildlife management from Virginia Tech, and has been in the wildlife profession for nearly 30 years.

The commission has several rules the hunter must follow, which are listed on the commission’s website. Among those is a prohibition on taking sows with cubs or bears weighing less than 75 pounds.

Hunters must have a bear e-stamp, in addition to a hunting license and big game hunting privileges. “Bag limit is one bear, you must report your bear, and you must submit the premolar (tooth) from your harvested bear to the N.C. Wildlife Resources Commission, in addition to other requirements and restrictions,” Olfenbuttel said, adding that there are further restrictions on game lands for hunting bears.

The commission determines rules and dates for hunting season, which is this time of year but exact dates vary by county. The commission allowed hunting for a few weeks earlier this month in Camden, Chowan, Pasquotank, Currituck, Gates, Perquimans, Beaufort, Bertie, Craven, Hertford, Jones, Martin, Washington, Dare, Hyde and Tyrrell counties and will reopen the season Dec. 14-29.

For Bladen, Brunswick, Carteret, Columbus, Cumberland, Duplin, New Hanover, Onslow, Pamlico Pender, Robeson and Sampson counties, season is Nov. 11 to Jan. 1.

“Unlike other causes of bear mortality, such as vehicle collisions or disease, we can regulate levels of hunting mortality,” Olfenbuttel said, adding that regulated hunting is the primary cause of bear mortality, “and that is good, as we can control harvest levels based on our bear population objectives, plus the bear can be utilized by the hunter, hunting is a quick and humane death, unlike disease or starvation, and a bear dying from vehicle collision may also result in a person being injured or killed.”

When the commission began managing the bear population in the 1970s, there was “direct cooperation and help from bear hunters,” Olfenbuttel said.

Hunters help fund conservation and research efforts through hunting license sales and the Pittman-Robertson Act of 1937, which imposes an excise tax on firearms and ammunition, as well as contributed data needed to make science-based management decisions.

Bear hunters also advocated for increased regulations on bear hunting, such as establishing bag limits, season lengths, minimum weight limits and license requirements, to assure the sustainable harvest of the bear population for generations to come.

Most recently, bear hunters joined the commission in calling for the state law that now requires hunters to submit the premolar tooth from their harvested bear, so that agency can use the data to determine its age at harvest and monitor bear population growth trends, Olfenbuttel said.

Luker said that “Hunting is the most reasonable conservation tool. Hunters are citizen-scientists on the ground, they know what’s going on out here. When they harvest a bear, they’re more than happy to send any hair samples, teeth samples, whatever’s needed.”

While bear hunting helps conserve the population, it also helps farmers.

Black bears in eastern North Carolina can cause tremendous agricultural crop damage and financial losses to a farmer, Olfenbuttel said. Regulated hunting allows farmers to offset their financial losses and address crop damage by having licensed hunters pay to access their land and harvest some of these bears.

“The regulated hunting season and the hunting leases that bear hunters are willing to pay landowners and farmers, helps maintain tolerance for bear populations on the agricultural landscape,” she explained.

Visible damage

As Luker guided his truck along the well-worn paths, he pointed out several times during that evening just how much destruction a bear can cause to crops.

“That was corn right there,” he said while pointing out the window to where bears had obliterated several rows of the crop. The closer the land was to the bear sanctuary, the more corn the bears ate.

“Bears typically don’t eat beans but they love corn, and as that corn grows, bears will move into the fields and not leave until the corn is picked,” he said. “It’s shaded. There are no bugs in there because of the pesticides and when they eat the corn, they get all the moisture they need, all the water they need.”

It’s a point of contention.

“Farmers can’t stand it, and I can understand why. Sometimes you can expect up to 20% loss.” For example, if a farmer plants 100 acres of corn, and expects to yield 200 bushels an acre at $5 a bushel, a 20% loss is substantial.

“The margins aren’t super high in farming, and bears literally eat into it,” Luker said.

He said many of the regional outfitters have working relationships with landowners who allow guided hunts on their property.

Next in the series: Bear hunting as heritage, conservation

Note: Coastal Review will not publish Thursday and Friday this week in recognition of the Thanksgiving and Native American Heritage Day holidays, respectively.

COLUMBIA — In a coastal North Carolina county that has more wildlife — by far — than people, as well as vast amounts of public lands, U.S. Department of the Interior Secretary Deb Haaland’s visit to Tyrrell County Thursday afternoon was especially significant. 

“Coming here is important,” Tyrrell County Manager David Clegg told Haaland during a media event with the secretary at the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge visitor center.

Haaland was in Tyrrell County to announce that $1.4 million has been awarded to the refuge from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law to replace 1,000 feet of the badly weathered Scuppernong River Boardwalk.

“And we saw how dilapidated it is,” said Haaland, referring to a stroll she had taken earlier on the boardwalk behind the visitor center, which stretches along the river and through woods and marshlands. “Now we’ll really be ready to make it right for future visits by so many people.”

In a later interview, Clegg said he really appreciated the secretary’s openness and willingness to discuss Tyrrell and the value of Pocosin Lakes to the county.   

“She has an on-the-ground understanding of what it is now,” he said. “It’s not some concept to her.”

Although the boardwalk is still safe to use, it has the warped and blackened wood commonly seen in aging decks and docks in the region.

North Carolina Wildlife Federation CEO Tim Gestwicki recalled during his remarks the reaction he had when producers of a documentary about the area asked to take some footage outside the refuge headquarters.

“They said, ‘Let’s go out on the boardwalk,’” he recalled. “I said, ‘Oh, lord, I don’t know about that.’”

Gestwicki said he is “delighted” with the infrastructure work that is being done at Pocosin and other refuges because it will allow more access for people to enjoy being outside in nature.

The project is part of President Biden’s $157 million Investing in America agenda to restore our nation’s lands and waters through locally led, landscape-scale restoration projects, according to a Department of the Interior press release. The funding from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law will support 206 ecosystem restoration projects in 48 states, Washington, D.C., and the U.S. territories.

Projects will focus on a restoration and resilience framework that builds climate resilience and addresses impacts, restores lands and waters, and enhances the quality of life for communities.

“What I love is the framework serves as a roadmap to where we can make the greatest difference,” Haaland said. “By grounding the framework in landscape-level projects like this here at Pocosin Lakes, it will supercharge our efforts to foster biodiversity and restore the habitats we all depend on.” 

Tyrrell fits the program’s target as a rural, historically underserved community.

With about 43% of its 735 square miles owned by state and federal governments, much of the county’s economy is still based in agriculture and forestry. But the tax base is shrinking, along with the population, which is currently 3,200 people, compared with 3,645 in 2016. The county is also considered one of the most vulnerable per capita to sea level rise impacts.

Clegg, the county manager, emphasized in his remarks that while Tyrrell might be remote and economically disadvantaged, its diverse ecosystems have outsize value to the natural world, replete with estuarine shorelines, pocosin wetlands, and agricultural vistas. For that reason, the county is primed to grow its ecotourism economy. 

“You can find bear, wolves, deer, wildcats, swan, duck, eagles, egret, beaver, otters, alligators, foxes, turtles, crabs, fish, quails, snakes, salamanders and raccoons,” he recited in one long breath, ending to applause.  

But Tyrrell County, despite its riches and challenges, is often lost in the shuffle when it comes to helpful government attention — making an important national official such as Haaland especially welcomed. 

“They say you don’t care about us,” said 1^st District Congressman Don Davis, a Democrat from Snow Hill, when addressing Haaland. “Well guess what? You’re here.”

Davis said his office works closely with the Interior Department and other agencies to assist local communities in meeting criteria so projects such as the Pocosin boardwalk can be completed.

“This is an awesome federal investment,” he said.

The Investing in America project also will partner with states and other recipients to address drought and wildfire resilience, recreational access, legacy pollution from former mines, invasive species management, and restoration of native plants and ecosystems.

More than half of the projects will also benefit historically underserved communities, as part of Biden’s Justice40 Initiative, an environmental justice effort that aims to direct 40% of certain federal benefits to “disadvantaged communities that are marginalized, underserved, and overburdened by pollution,” according to the White House.

During a brief Q&A with media before she left, Haaland expressed appreciation for the Pocosin Lakes refuge and its staff, and she made a promise that Tyrrell no doubt hopes come true. 

“I never pass up an opportunity to tell the staff how much they mean to us,” Haaland said. “I couldn’t be prouder to stand here today and I’ll come back again.”

Coastal Review features the work of North Carolina historian David Cecelski, who writes about the history, culture and politics of the North Carolina coast.

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Note from the author: I have written this as kind of an online history exhibit. The story starts with a short introduction, then features more than 40 annotated photographs and other images illustrating the last decades of an ancient swamp forest that was once located on the North Carolina coast. 

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For quite some time, I have been collecting historical photographs, maps, and manuscripts that document the lumber boomtowns and logging camps of the Pungo River and its hinterlands in the late 19th century and the early part of the 20th century.

After the Civil War, lumber companies bought thousands of square miles of forestlands on the North Carolina coast. As if out of nowhere, scores of lumber mill towns sprang up virtually overnight (only to vanish, most of them, when the forest was gone).

The lumber companies reshaped the land, our most important towns, and even some of our most remote islands.

Logging camps seemed to be everywhere. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles of railroads were built to move logging machinery into even the most remote swamp forests, to haul logs to mills, and to carry lumber after it was milled to northern seaports.

Canals were built to drain swamp forests. Lumber barges and schooners crowded local waterways.

For the sake of building America, coastal forests that had stood for centuries, and sometimes millennia, vanished.

I do not know to what I can compare that part of North Carolina’s coastal history. It was a frontier world, often almost lawless, dangerous, destructive, and, for some, liberating, all at once.

Thousands of people left farms and fishing boats and their old lives to make a go of it in the mills and logwoods.

And they came from all over, not just from local towns and villages, but Appalachian hollows, Great Lakes logging camps, and New York City tenement houses.

They included men and women with the scars of slavery still on their backs, Outer Banks fishing families, and immigrants fresh from Ellis Island, many of them speaking barely a word of English — all made their way to the lumber mill towns and logging camps.

In this collection of historical images today, I am focusing on the lumber boom in just one corner of the North Carolina coast, the Pungo and the forests within about 15 miles of its shores.

But I hope that by so doing, we can at least get a glimpse of the size and scale of the lumber boom throughout the North Carolina coast, what it was like for the people who lived through it, and how it transformed our communities, as well as our land and waters.

Rising in the central part of Washington County, in the remnants of what local people today often call the “Big Swamp,” the Pungo, an Algonquin Indian word, is only 35 miles long.

In its northernmost reaches, the river flows today through a canal that was dug in the 1950s to drain the farmlands west of Pungo Lake and what is now the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge.

But then the river grows wild again. It meanders south, passing along breathtakingly beautiful cane brakes and marshlands until it opens up into a broad bay, an estuary really, that eventually folds itself into the Pamlico River and the Pamlico Sound.

Today it is a quiet, peaceful place. Belhaven, the only town on the river, has a population of less than 1,500. Pantego (another Algonquin name), the only town on any of the river’s tributaries, has maybe a few more than 200 residents.

It is a place of rural byways and little crossroads: when you leave Belhaven, you can go 25 miles in any direction — east, west, north, or south — and never hit a stoplight.

But as you will see here, the Pungo was once a very different place.

As you look through these old photographs and yellowed maps, please know that I am, as people sometimes say, a “lifetime learner.” I would always welcome hearing from anyone who might know more about any of these images.

In studying the Pungo’s lumber boom, one thing is very clear to me though: whatever other stories I tell, anything I write will also be an elegy. It just has to be.

The Pungo River was once the heart of one of America’s great natural wonders. When you left the river’s shores, you entered a vast wilderness, a swamp forest that covered hundreds of square miles and was so large and so foreboding that it had long been a refuge for the local Algonquin people, fugitive slaves, and other outcasts.

For those who care about our natural heritage, it was a marvel: the East Dismal Swamp, as I am going to call it,  was home to ancient and majestic groves of bald cypress, some of the country’s largest stands of Atlantic white cedar (juniper), and pocosin wetlands of a size and grandeur found in few other places on Earth.

But especially between 1880 and 1920, the logging companies and land developers did not just log the Pungo’s old-growth forests: they erased them.

Using railroads and new kinds of machinery, they logged even the most remote corners of the East Dismal. Then, especially in the pocosins, they dug great canals and vast networks of ditches to drain the land. When the peat soils dried out, they then burned what was left of the forest and the peat beds again and again.

They did that until the East Dismal Swamp — or whatever you want to call that great swamp wilderness — was gone.

If you visit the site of the East Dismal today, you will find only a broad, open plain and seeming endless farm fields, stretching, in many places almost treeless, as far as the eye can see.

You might think that you were in Kansas or Nebraska, if it were not for the miles and miles of canals and ditches.

History is for me, when all is said and done, about remembrance and recalling the ancestors.

And through them, coming to know ourselves.

But there are also times when I think that we should remember lost places, out of respect for them and maybe for our own good, too. I think that this is one of those times.

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Cecelski shares on his website essays and lectures he has written about the state’s coast as well as brings readers along on his search for the lost stories of our coastal past in the museums, libraries and archives he visits in the U.S. and across the globe. 

To say Pungo Lake is off the beaten path would be a generous understatement.

Situated in the northeastern part of North Carolina that all major roads avoid and even Google doesn’t update, any attempt to travel there brings the possibility for adventure or the potential for mishap.

“Make sure you’re gassed up (with) at least half a tank of fuel, because you’re a long ways away from gas stations,” advised Wendy Stanton, refuge manager for Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, in which Pungo Lake is situated.

Access from the south or west puts travelers on N.C. Highway 45, N.C. 99 or both, since the roads run together for a stretch. Coming from the north or east, the most direct routes involve a variety of tiny roads and then what should be a straight shot on several miles of unpaved, single-car-width peat lanes. But these often end up being closed, either to protect wildlife or to protect the roadways’ accessibility for refuge maintenance vehicles. Google Maps does not reflect these closures, and cell phone service is spotty to nonexistent on the refuge.

When they’re open, in ideal conditions, “driving on them is basically driving on a dry crust of peat,” Stanton said. But traffic breaks down the peat’s structural integrity, as does rainfall, turning the roadways into “mucky slurry” that is unsafe for motorists.

“Last winter, we had to close all our refuge roads because they were in such bad shape,” she said.

Peat is a very fine, organic soil formed from fallen leaves and branches that remain on the ground in an anaerobic (without oxygen) environment, she explained. “When it’s dry, it’s almost the same consistency as corn starch.”

Scientists think the refuge landscape, pockmarked by lakes now, was once contiguous peatlands that wildfires burned down in places, forming lakes as rainfall accumulated there, Stanton said.

“We think Pungo Lake was formed by a groundfire …When those peat soils ignite, they can just burn and smolder for a long period of time.”

Nearby, Phelps Lake, as well as New Lake and Lake Mattamuskeet, each are thought to have formed in that same way. Those lakes, and Pungo Lake, too, are all on North Carolina’s large Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula.

Pungo Lake is a “blackwater lake” with very little to no sunlight penetration, due to the “tannins from the peat and the vegetation, and particulates from the peat soil,” Stanton said. That means there is no submerged aquatic vegetation growing in it, and the lake — with holes up to 6 feet deep in places — looks deeper everywhere than it is, she explained. Swimming, boating and fishing on the lake are always prohibited because “the focus of Pungo Lake is inviolate sanctuary” for wildlife.

The nearly 2,800-square-acre lake is the centerpiece of the refuge’s 12,000-acre Pungo Unit, which was first established as a national wildlife refuge in the 1960s. The rest of the land that now constitutes Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge was added in the 1990s; so currently, the refuge spans over 100,000 acres in Washington, Hyde and Tyrrell counties, according to the refuge website.

A refuge map shows its piecemeal sections spread over the large geographical area.

The refuge’s easternmost swath is by the western bank of the Alligator River, while small areas just south of Columbia include the refuge office. The Pungo Unit is almost the westernmost reach; just one small section of refuge lies even further to the west.

Southeast of Pungo Lake, a larger body of water mostly included in the refuge, New Lake, has been so named since at least 1998, when Stanton began working for the refuge as a biologist. It’s still mislabeled as Alligator Lake on Google Maps.

The refuge owns about 85%, or 4,500 acres, of that roughly 4,900-acre-lake, she said, with the remainder privately owned.

North of Pungo Lake, the refuge includes about 4 miles of shoreline around Lake Phelps’ perimeter, so refuge staff works closely on projects with Pettigrew State Park, which includes Lake Phelps, Stanton said.

While all three lakes are rainwater lakes, their waters are each strikingly different colors because of the soil types beneath them. Lake Phelps appears clear to blue-hued, Pungo Lake is blackwater and New Lake appears brown due to its mixture of peat and mineral soils, she said.

Even not being the farthermost reaches of the refuge, traveling just from the refuge office to the Pungo Unit takes 50 minutes, Stanton said. The only facilities on the refuge, apart from the volunteer-staffed visitor center, are two porta-potties. She encourages visitors to bring water and to be mindful of the weather.

Most of the year, Pungo Lake and the surrounding refuge are quiet, almost seeming otherworldly. No rush of passing traffic or other human-related noises exists to overrun the occasional birds’ calls or the steady thrum of insects.

Early one July morning, the contents of three overturned trash cans were spread across both lanes of Shore Drive, which is included in the refuge and runs just south of Lake Phelps. There had been no overnight storm or significant wind. Turning onto Allen Road, which leads to Pungo Lake (about 6 miles to the south), a plausible explanation appears: A big black bear lumbers off the peat roadway into the bushes.

The Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula has the largest recorded black bears and the highest black bear population densities in the world, according to the nonprofit North Carolina Wildlife Federation.

Many people visit the refuge specifically to see black bears, according to Stanton.

Plymouth, the most populated town on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula and about half an hour’s drive northwest of the Pungo Unit, hosts an annual black bear festival in June to celebrate its famous residents.

A 2003 black bear population estimate based on collected hair samples found 3.5 black bears per square mile, meaning between 300 and 400 bears lived on the refuge, Stanton said.

The bears of Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge were found to have the highest genetic diversity in their population out of three regional refuges, meaning “that population is more adaptable to change,” she said. The next-highest genetic diversity was found at the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge, located to the northeast, also on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula, and which is connected to Pocosin Lakes by a “wildlife corridor.”

The lowest genetic diversity was found in the black bear population of the Great Dismal Swamp Natural Wildlife Refuge in Virginia, which “makes sense because of all the development going on around it,” she said.

Two decades later, a new black bear population study is in the works for northeastern North Carolina. “Genetic technology has expanded in the last 20 years,” Stanton said. “I’m excited to see that study.”

Other year-round refuge residents are also numerous, including whitetail deer, beavers, muskrats, nutria, otters, marsh birds, wood ducks, hawks, owls, bobcats, foxes, red wolves, turtles, frogs, toads, salamanders, snakes, alligators and more.

“I consider it ‘the Yellowstone of the East,’ too, with the diversity of species,” Stanton said of the refuge, borrowing phrasing from one of her friends.

The only sound first thing on a July morning is the aggressive bumping of huge horseflies into the parked car’s windshield. The roadway is closed immediately ahead. A beaver scuttles across the road into a ditch, quickly disappearing from sight.

About a quarter-mile west of the chained-off Allen Road, turning from Shore Drive onto F2 Road, a longer stretch is drivable before a metal gate comes into view, closed and locked, with posted signs announcing the road’s closure to vehicles. Turning around reveals curious wild turkeys, one creeping out first to check the surroundings and apparently giving its nod of approval to another, who then ventures out. The turkeys run down the road together.

Rabbits and quail are well-camouflaged among refuge flora, which includes wildflowers, grasses and ferns. Honeysuckle and wild grapevines dangle from trees and bushes overhead. A combination of high humidity and the smoke from Canadian wildfires obscures everything more than a short distance away in haze.

Each year from about November through January, the refuge gets naturally louder as more than 100,000 migrating swans, geese, ducks and other birds convene annually to rest and recharge before continuing south. For over 20 migratory species — including ducks, tundra swans and snow geese — the refuge is more than a stopover: It’s their winter retreat, according to the refuge website.

With “very minimal human disturbance” and proximity to fresh water and waterfowl impoundments — designed to grow native plants for the birds’ consumption — Pungo Lake provides an ideal sanctuary for migratory waterfowl, Stanton said. In the winter, “amazing flyouts” take place around sunrise when the birds leave to go forage, and then again at sunset as they return to the lake at night.

Over 30,000 people annually visit Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, which is about a 5,000-person annual increase since before the COVID-19 pandemic.

But Stanton maintains even the 30,000 reflects “a real underestimate.” She said there is sometimes bumper-to-bumper traffic in the winter when people flock to see the waterfowl, which settle on all area lakes.

Landowners’ objectives before the refuge was established were different, Stanton noted.

While nearby areas boast rich soil and productive farmland, peat is a “nutrient and mineral poor soil” that people unsuccessfully tried to farm in the past, she said. Much of northeastern North Carolina’s pocosin land — “pocosin” is a Native American word for “swamp on a hill” — was ditched and drained, with numerous canals dug by hand by enslaved people, such as those around Lake Phelps and Lake Mattamuskeet.

Stanton thinks the area near Pungo Lake was ditched and drained with “old, heavy equipment” more recently, closer to the 1960s, to access a valuable commodity — white cedar wood. For a time, she said the land was also mined for the alternative fuel source, ethanol.

“Now we recognize the value of healthy pocosin land,” Stanton said. Pocosin is also called “Southeast shrub bog” and provides “tremendous carbon storage…(and) excellent wildlife habitat.”

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service manages the refuge with main goals of providing quality wildlife habitat, reducing the risk of catastrophic wildfire and preserving the “tremendous water quality benefit,” she said.

Wet peat ensures a higher water quality for the surrounding area as it reduces both catastrophic fire and flood risks, she explained. Over the years as the refuge has received funding, it has installed water control infrastructure designed to rewet the peat.

“We have now restored over 37,000 acres of pocosin habitat,” she noted, and the goal is to add more water control infrastructure to keep water in the peat in an additional 7,000 to 8,000 acres.

This is one of the largest hydrology restoration projects in the country, according to www.fws.gov.

“Just over the years as we received funding, we piecemealed that infrastructure in to start rewetting the peat,” she said.

The refuge drafted a water management plan, which it put out for public review in 2020, and Stanton said that plan is still being finalized.

The refuge’s visitor center, the Walter B. Jones Sr. Center for the Sounds, is located at 205 South Ludington Drive in Columbia. Free, public programs take place there regularly, as well as at the Red Wolf Center, located a mile south of Columbia on N.C. Highway 94.

For more information about either the visitor center or the red wolf programs, call 252-796-3004 or visit the refuge website at www.fws.gov/refuge/pocosin-lakes. For updates on road closures, call 252-796-3004, extension 225.

Longtime U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service biologist Wendy Stanton will begin her new role Monday as refuge manager for Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge in eastern North Carolina.

Pocosin Lakes refuge is one of the nine National Wildlife Refuges in the North Carolina Coastal National Wildlife Refuge complex, which the Fish and Wildlife Service oversees.

With the service since 1994, she has been refuge biologist for Pea Island refuge, Pocosin Lakes refuge, Mattamuskeet refuge complex, and a wildlife biologist with the inventory and monitoring branch.

“I am so excited to be a part of the amazing team at Pocosin Lakes NWR. There are many challenges and opportunities at the refuge that I am eager to work on,” Stanton said in a statement. “These include peatland restoration, waterfowl management, cooperative farming, fire program, red wolf recovery, visitor services, environmental education and many others. I am looking forward to collaborating with the local communities and other partners to meet the refuge mission and advance conservation for the continuing benefit of the American people.”

Stanton holds a bachelor’s in wildlife biology at Frostburg State University in Maryland and master’s in wildlife biology from North Carolina State University.

She began her federal career in 1991 as a graduate co-op student with the Bureau of Land Management in Roseburg, Oregon.

For almost 30 years, Stanton has been married to the “love of her life” and best friend, John Stanton, who recently retired from U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Migratory Bird Program. They have two grown sons and two “very spoiled” Irish wolfhounds. She and her husband have resided in Columbia since 1994.

“This is our home and we love it here. Both our sons were born here and attended the public schools in Tyrrell County,” she said.

The more than 110,000-acre Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge is in Washington, Hyde, and Tyrrell counties and conserves a rare type of wetland habitat, known as “pocosin,” derived from a Native American word meaning “swamp on a hill,” according to FWS. There are natural wetlands, including the southeastern pocosin peat wetlands, open water on Pungo and New Lakes, upland pine forests, and managed moist-soil and agricultural units that provide high-energy food for the more than a hundred thousand ducks, geese, and swans that congregate on the refuge in winter.

National Wildlife Refuge Week, Oct. 11-17, is a great way to celebrate the outdoors this year after spending months at home because of COVID-19 precautions.

National Wildlife Refuge Week celebrates all the ways to discover hunting, fishing, biking and paddling to trail running, photography, walking and virtual nature programs.

The National Wildlife Refuge System is managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. There are 11 refuges in the state, 10 of which are in eastern North Carolina.

Founded by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1903, national wildlife refuges offer access to outdoor activities while providing vital habitat for thousands of wildlife species. Nearly 60 million people visit refuges each year.

Special events traditionally mark National Wildlife Refuge Week, observed each year during the second full week of October.

Under the National Wildlife Refuge System Improvement Act of 1997, the Service permits hunting and fishing along with four other types of wildlife-dependent recreation, including wildlife photography, environmental education, wildlife observation, and interpretation, when these activities are compatible with an individual refuge’s purpose and mission. There are new opportunities for hunting and fishing on national wildlife refuges from coast to coast.

National wildlife refuges pump $3.2 billion per year into local economies and support more than 41,000 jobs, according to the Service’s report Banking on Nature.

The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service will accept until Aug. 31 comments on the Draft Water Management Plan and Environmental Assessment for Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge.

The plan looks at what water management steps should take place on the refuge over the next 15 years to achieve strategical goals and objectives in the refuge’s Comprehensive Conservation Plan.

Submit written comments to pocosinlakes@fws.gov or Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, P.O. Box 329, Columbia, N.C. 27925. Comments must be submitted by email or postmarked by Aug. 31. Comments already submitted do not need to be resubmitted. Anyone who has already submitted comments may submit additional comments until the deadline. Request a written copy of the document by emailing pocosinlakes@fws.gov.

Once the comment period closes, the service will consider comments received, finalize the plan and announce the availability of the final plan.

Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge is 110,106 acres in Washington, Hyde, and Tyrrell counties. Of those acres, more than 8,300 are managed waterfowl habitat, more than 44,000 acres are highly altered peatlands, and more than 57,600 acres are minimally altered peatlands.

With the vast majority of restoration efforts now complete U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service is looking at long-term management of the refuge’s habitats that will guide water management to help achieve the refuge’s purposes. The plan proposes to enhance and maintain water management across habitats on refuge. Additionally, the draft plan’s objectives and strategies aim to enhance high quality habitat for wildlife, notably waterfowl, neotropical migratory birds, and other wildlife and game species.

President Trump on Tuesday signed into law a bipartisan bill that will tap energy revenues to address a $12 billion backlog of maintenance projects on federal lands, including more than $459 million in national parks in North Carolina.

Introduced in 2019 by the late Rep. John Lewis, D-Ga., the Great American Outdoors Act also makes funding for the Land and Water Conservation Fund permanent. Earlier this year, the Trump administration had proposed significant cuts to the fund.

Republican 3^rd District Congressman Greg Murphy voted for the bill, which the House passed July 22.

Murphy’s office noted in a press release in July that Cape Hatteras National Seashore will receive $49,834,106, and Cape Lookout National Seashore will receive $27,718,515 as a result of the legislation.

The Land and Water Conservation Fund supports national forests, refuges and parks, including the Croatan National Forest, Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge, Cedar Island National Wildlife Refuge, Currituck National Wildlife Refuge, Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge, Mackay Island National Wildlife Refuge, Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge, Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, Swan Quarter National Wildlife Refuge, Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Cape Lookout National Seashore, the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site and the Wright Brothers National Memorial.

The bill establishes the National Parks and Public Land Legacy Restoration Fund to support deferred maintenance projects on federal lands. For the next five years, an amount equal to half of energy development revenues from oil, gas, coal and alternative or renewable energy development on federal lands and waters is to be deposited into the fund, up to $1.9 billion for any year.

The fund must be used for priority deferred maintenance projects in specified systems that are administered by the National Park Service, the Forest Service, the Fish and Wildlife Service, the Bureau of Land Management and the Bureau of Indian Education.

Interior Secretary David L. Bernhardt announced Tuesday that entrance fees paid by those visiting lands managed by the department would be waived Wednesday. Bernhardt also announced that Aug. 4 will be designated “Great American Outdoors Day,” a fee-free day each year to commemorate the signing of the act. Fees such as camping and cabin rentals and others will remain in effect.

Entrance fees to national wildlife refuges, including those in North Carolina, are temporarily suspended.

The U.S.  Fish and Wildlife Service announced Thursday that Interior Secretary David Bernhardt put the hold on entrance fees until further notice.

“I’ve directed the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to waive entrance fees at national wildlife refuges that remain open. This small step makes it a little easier for the American public to enjoy the outdoors at these incredible places,” said Bernhardt. “Our vast public lands that are overseen by the Department offer special outdoor experiences to recreate, embrace nature and implement some social distancing.”

Outdoor spaces will remain open to the public at most refuges when possible to adhere to public health guidance from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Many facilities such as visitor centers will be closed.

“The health of our visitors is our number one priority,” said Service Director Aurelia Skipwith. “When CDC guidance is followed, a national wildlife refuge can be the perfect antidote to cabin fever and a boon to our mental well-being during this unprecedented time.”

Officials urged visitors to follow CDC guidance while visiting refuges. Updates about the response to the coronavirus will be posted online.

Fish and Wildlife Service officials recommend check the refuge’s website before visiting. The following is a list of refuges in North Carolina:

• Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge 
• Cedar Island National Wildlife Refuge 
• Currituck National Wildlife Refuge 
• Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge
• Mackay Island National Wildlife Refuge 
• Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge
• Mountain Bogs National Wildlife Refuge
• Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge
• Pee Dee National Refuge and Conservation Area
• Pocosin Lakes National Refuge
• Roanoke River National Refuge and Conservation Area
• Swan Quarter National Refuge and Conservation Area

Tundra swans glide over Pungo Lake as the setting sun casts a golden shine on the clouds. Photo by Sam Bland.

PLYMOUTH — Many coastal N.C. residents are unaware that a great wildlife spectacle occurs each winter just a day trip away.

Tens of thousands of ducks, snow geese and tundra swan navigate the Atlantic Flyway and begin arriving in November at Pungo Lake in the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge  in Hyde, Tyrrell and Washington counties. That’s why when the Navy wanted to build a practice field nearby residents and bird lovers rose up to stop it. Protest signs sprouted in front of area homes and businesses. Lawsuits were filed and permits challenges. The Navy finally backed down in 2008. The birds were safe.

Best Viewing Spots

Once you find your way to the refuge, you must navigate a maze of dirt roads to find the five wildlife observation areas, three of which offer good views of Pungo Lake. It’s really just a large, shallow depression that was created long ago when a ground fire burned the thick, peat-rich soil. Rainfall then filled the hole to create the 2,800-acre lake.

Tundra swans squabble on the lake. Photos by Sam Bland.

One of the best spots to view some of the 25,000 tundra swans or 100,000 snow geese that migrate here is from the south lake platform on the Charles Kuralt Trail, which honors the N.C. native who brought these special places into our homes with his “On the Road” TV segments on CBS news.

From this elevated platform, you can lose track of time just watching the swans take off and gracefully land on the glassy lake surface as they come from and go to the feeding sites in the nearby fields. Farmers are allowed to grow crops in the refuge but are required to leave 20 percent of their harvest behind for the birds and other wildlife.

The large, white, 20-pound swans use the lake as their roosting site for resting and sleeping.  Floating out on the lake at night provides a safe buffer from predators.  Here they will rest and try to fatten up for the long spring migration back to the breeding grounds on the arctic tundra of Alaska and northern Canada.

Just a short drive down the dusty road is the Duck Pen Wildlife Trail that leads to the Pungo Lake Observation Point. A blind provides excellent concealment allowing you to see a variety ducks.  As you walk down the trail you will notice that the surrounding land is quite wet with standing water. This is a pocosin, the Native American word for “swamp on a hill.” This bog is thick with evergreen shrubs such as wax myrtle, sweet bay and red bay with a few pine trees scattered around.

A Favorite Hike

One of my favorite activities at Pungo Lake is to take a hike down the North Lake Road. On the south side of the road is a wide swath of thick woodland that boarders the lake. On the north side of the road farm fields with food plots stretch out into the distance. As I headed down the road, I flushed out two bald eagles, one mature and one an adolescent, that were perched in the tall gum trees. They flew out over the fields and began gaining altitude until they were soaring high into the blue sky. The soaring eagles flushed thousands of red-winged blackbirds feeding in the fields. They rose in a dark cloud and buzzed about like a pulsating orb before settling back to the ground.

An adult black bear and two cubs feed in a field. Photo by Sam Bland.

As I continued to walk, the air was quiet except for the occasional piercing cry of a red-tailed hawk and the laughing call of a pileated woodpecker. After about two miles, I finally came across evidence of an animal that I wanted to see. Huge muddy paw prints and island-sized piles of scat were scattered about indicating black bears were nearby. Just off of the trail that leads to the north side observation area I saw a number of bear and deer trails and found a spot to hunker down and wait for a sighting. Alas, it was not to be.

With the sun setting, I headed back to my truck since there was one more stop I wanted to make. Racing the sun, I swiftly walked the muddy road bed in a bit of a funk since I hadn’t seen any bear. I’ve always seen bear from this road. This area has probably the greatest concentrations of black bear in the state, and I was skunked.

Almost to the truck, I took a glance across one of the farm fields with a food plot. Off in the distance I could see three black objects, one large and two small, slowly moving about. A check with the binoculars revealed an adult bear with two cubs. They weren’t as close as I would have liked but they stayed out in the open for some great looks.

With a shot of excitement from the bears, I drove back to the observation platform for my favorite part of the trip. As a gate of darkness began to lower toward the horizon, the tundra swans were flowing back to the security of the lake. Their bodies were a dark silhouette against a golden-hued sky that was changing colors as the last light of the day was fading away. I could hear the wind rushing over their wings as the swans passed overhead. They glided in and skidded on their big webbed feet, landing softly onto the dead slick calm lake water.  The cold evening air was now filled with the soft cooing and honking of their magical calls as they settled in for the night.

To Get There: The refuge is six miles south of Columbia off N.C. 94 on the east and 18 miles south of Plymouth off N.C. 45 on the west. There are several access points to the refuge. Pungo Lake can be accessed by taking N.C. 45 South to Pantego.

More information

• Pungo Lake map
• Refuge regulations
• Pungo Lake video

Red-winged blackbirds, spooked by a soaring bald eagle, darken the sky. Photo by Sam Bland.