Tracking II

Tracking was used by ancient cultures around the world for thousands of years for many purposes. In some cases, it meant survival for a tribe whose scouts could find and interpret the tracks and movements of the enemy. But tracking was primarily a skill used for finding, following, and taking game. Tracking was so necessary for survival that it stretched far beyond the common concepts of tracking that we believe today. It developed into an art-form of sorts and a science, and ancient trackers essentially were the first forensic investigators. Their abilities were not limited to following footprints, but also included reading the landscape, interpreting signs, weather, and other animal activity. Tracking was a gateway to a holistic awareness that was crucial for survival.

Now, as a wildlife control operator, tracking was a staple of my work, as well as a key to being successful and efficient. As an Expert Tracker, there isn't the luxury--and, frankly, nor is there a necessity--of laying out tracking powder; there is no putting paper into suspect structural holes in order to assess usage; there is no wondering where to put an evictor or where to place a trap. It’s all in the tracks, and the tracks never lie.

I talked with another pest control company one afternoon about trapping large mammals—my shirt logo, which reads, “Forensic Tracker” prompted his asking for an explanation. I explained that there are several levels and methods of tracking, and that Forensic Tracking involved studying and interpreting subtle actions within the tracks. I said that tracks reveal much more about the maker than its taxonomical Family and direction of movement. Tracks told a story, and also indicate crucial elements about the maker, especially regarding our line of work. I asked him about his process of identifying and trapping a nuisance animal. He shrugged and said that he just goes to the site, if the client says they have a skunk, he simply sets some traps with skunk bait and keeps trapping until the skunks are gone.

I was baffled. I said, “but what if you’re trapping a skunk that has babies in the den?” He responded, “well you just have to take into account the time of year and assume there will be babies.”

I suppose at least that is the safe way to assume. But I don’t see that as particularly efficient. I went on to explain that my inspection consists of isolating signs and tracks of the animal involved, but also what other animals may be involved, and what draws them there in the first place. Further, if you’re trapping skunks, for example, it’s useful to know whether you’re catching the skunk from under the house or the skunk from under the neighbor’s shed, not to mention that there are often other animals sharing that space with the skunks, such as cats and opossums. If you funnel the traps off the entrance, how do you know how many to set? How do you know the client didn’t mistake the identity of the animal? (I had a call for an opossum in someone’s bathroom one night. It turned out to be a long-tailed weasel.) And in Search Tracking, for a missing dog for example, how do you maintain that dog’s trail if they’re in coyote territory with coyote-sized feet? It’s all in the tracks.

He didn’t believe me when I told him that it is possible to read pregnancy, gender, and even ailments in an animal’s track. That’s okay, though. I’m not the one wasting time with superfluous trips to check and alter my trap-sets.

Granted, I don’t always make my catch on the first rotation. I’m not a “Master Tracker.” But I can read tracks to the point that I can make more cost effective decisions and take appropriate actions. I was called to investigate skunk activity around a wheelchair access ramp on the front of an apartment building. The landlord said that the tenants had seen several skunks walking around the yard and that the animals were living under the ramp. The ramp was snugged tightly to the building on one long side, and it was flush to the ground on the other side, except for the place that the skunks dug out for entry. Now, according to biology, it didn’t make sense at this time of year for a bunch of juvenile skunks to be walking around with mom. The tenants described the skunks as, “about six inches long” from nose to butt. It didn’t follow. But weirder things have happened.

I found two sets of tracks on that day. Two different skunks had made the tracks. One set went under the ramp. That set showed me that my culprit skunk had given birth. And it was because of that indication that I had the landlord’s carpenter help me tear up the ramp the morning after I trapped mom. And I pulled out five newborns. (You can see a blurry shot of them on my website, in fact.) Mom and babies were reunited and relocated to a rehab together. This isn’t an isolated incident.

All of my technicians must learn tracking. They must be able to identify tracks, gaits, and signs, and they must be able to see tracks on a variety of surfaces from leaves to dirt to plastic and concrete, whether raccoon, mouse, or snake. It’s not easy. But it works.

Tracks display Identifiers, which are marks made within the tracks that are specific, particularly in combination, to a particular maker. There are also Movement Indicators, which show everything about the maker of the tracks and how the subject responded to their surrounding stimuli. The MIs display Gross Motor movements, Fine Motor movements, and Internal fluctuations. These MIs can be anything from a mound of substrate shoved in a particular direction to a fine ridge of dust on the floor of the footprint. There can be many forms and shapes of these indicators that typically take on associative names, such as: hockey-stick, pirate’s-hat, or chains, and they represent transfers of energy and kinesiology. In other words, indicators can be constructs of simple, physical mechanics of leverage, or they can be made of energy that moves throughout the body. If you’ve ever built up static electricity by rubbing a balloon on your hair and sticking it to a wall, or by combing your hair with a plastic comb and holding the comb near a very slow, steady stream of tap-water, you can see a dramatic example of how this energy works.

These MIs are very difficult to discern without a guide. And they change shape, position, and texture, because the body is a malleable organism. Just when you think you’ve finally pinned one down for a particular, coordinating action, it will change or vanish altogether and make hours of hard work turn into a frustrating disappointment. But they are there. And when someone shows you what to look for, they become easier to see. However, for me, even after twenty-five years of trying to figure out the art and science of tracking, I have not been able to put together complete combinations of MIs for all situations. I get by so far on being able to pick out key MIs and extrapolating by using other clues, for now. There’s just too much to figure out for one person in one lifetime, but it doesn’t mean I’m not trying.