On the Road, Again

Let’s talk about roadkill. Chances are, the very mention of that word elicits a smirk. For reasons perhaps best left unexplained, roadkill has become, well, funny. A quick search online reveals roadkill cookbooks, roadkill t-shirts, roadkill field guides. You can even buy roadkill stuffed toys, complete with splatting guts. To use Dave Barry’s line: I am not making this up. At least two burger joints in Idaho offer the “Roadkill Patty Melt” (and both argue they’re the “original”). In Seligman, Ariz., the Roadkill Café advertises such menu items as Bad Brake Steak, Fender Tenders and Swirl of Squirrel. The laughs end, of course, when someone actually crashes into a deer. Moving beyond the Splatter Platter meal deals, one quickly finds that wildlife on the road is a significant conservation challenge—one that kills hundreds of people and millions of animals, and costs millions of dollars, each year. Consider these facts compiled by Defenders of Wildlife: • An estimated 725,00 to 1.5 million wildlife-vehicle collisions occur in the U.S. every year. • More than 200 people are killed each year in these collisions. • Nearly 30,000 people are injured. • Vehicle collisions with animals cost drivers and insurance companies more than $1 billion per year. Wildlife-vehicle collisions are undoubtedly highest in states with higher populations and a corresponding higher number of roads: New York State, for instance, averages 75,000 deer killed on highways each year. But in the Northwest, these collisions still carry significant costs. In Idaho, for instance, about 1200 vehicles collide with wildlife annually, causing 200 serious injuries. The Idaho Transportation Department estimates that each deer collision costs an average of $8000, and each elk collision, $18,000. The highest number of wildlife collisions occur along a stretch of U.S. 95 near Sandpoint, in the MacArthur Lake area. Here, white-tailed deer and moose congregate in the winter—creating a deadly situation for people and animals. Fortunately, solutions exist—and they don’t involve roadkill cookbooks. As with so many wildlife conservation issues, protecting ample habitat remains the best way to keep wildlife off the roads. Given enough room, large animals won’t need to stray onto roads. We’re fo rtunate in the West to still have many large, intact areas where wildlife can still migrate long distances without major obstacles. One pronghorn migration in southcentral Idaho runs 180 miles—through sagebrush, mountains and working ranches, but very few developments or roads. That’s an almost unimaginable distance in many parts of the country. At MacArthur Lake, the Conservancy is working with agencies and a forest products company to protect working forest, so moose and deer are not forced to cross the highway in ever tighter “bottlenecks.” But even in the best-protected habitat, sooner or later animals cross roads. What then? As Tom Vanderbilt argues in his excellent book Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do, drivers quickly ignore signs that don’t deliver promised warnings. Most of us drive by deer signs without seeing deer. Therefore, our mind quickly deems them irrelevant. We quit “seeing” them. Automated signs that blink or post warnings when animals are in the area can be more effective, but again, only if drivers don’t get too used to them. Public education campaigns have aimed to get people to drive more carefully in the winter, when deer and other large mammals are more likely to be near roads. But, like it or not, people run late, they speed, they make bad driving decisions—even when faced with fines. As such, changing driving behavior can only ever be a partial solution. However, changing roads can make a big difference. Wildlife overpasses and underpasses allow animals to migrate and roam without crossing highways. And they work. One of the first, and most celebrated, wildlife crossings is at Banff National Park, where grizzly bears and other wildlife were frequently killed on the roads. The installed underpasses reduced wildlife collisions by 96 percent. Other states and parks across the country are beginning to install these crossings, often coupled with fencing and habitat protection. The first underpass in Idaho will be installed in the Boise Foothills, an area where deer collisions are very common during winter months. Such crossings are admittedly expensive. But so are wildlife-vehicle collisions. Your voice matters. Oftentimes, these projects depend on public support. Working together, we can keep wildlife off the road—ensuring a future of abundant big game and safer roads, rather than one of higher insurance premiums and roadkill burgers.