Eric Newell, Author at Wild About Utah

May 12, 2025May 12, 2025

Eye to Eye

If you spend enough time in the wilds you acquire some remarkable stories. I’ve had some noteworthy wildlife encounters over the years, but one stands out from long ago.

In May, 1991, two high school friends and I headed for Thunder Bowl in the Wasatch Range, with skis on our packs. We had a long slog ahead of us.

Lone Peak Wilderness Courtesy and Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Two hours and 3,000 vertical feet into our journey we began to encounter spring snow. As we moved through a leafless stand of aspen trees, we spotted a Rocky Mountain goat high on the glacier-polished granite cliffs. What was unusual was the behavior of this particular goat. She crisscrossed her way down the granite wall, leaping and sliding—frantically at times—on the verge of tumbling head-over hooves, with a reckless display of athletic skill.

Then loud and distinct human-like cries halted our stride. The goat stopped, then took one last heart-stopping leap to a narrow ledge.

Trapped from descending further, the goat paced nervously back and forth, peering down 150 feet to the forest floor were we were curiously standing. Another set of eerie cries, amplified by the granite walls, shattered the silence again.

Mountain Goat with Kid, Oreamnos Americanus, Courtesy US FWS,
Lawrence S Smith, Photographer — Mountain Goat with Kid
Oreamnos Americanus
Courtesy US FWS, Lawrence S Smith, Photographer

The mountain goat hung her head and slowly, deliberately, began to ascend the canyon wall.

My friends shrugged and started to move again. I dropped my pack in the snow. “Let’s go see what’s making all the racket,” I said.

They wanted to keep moving. I told them I’d catch up soon.

Wearing only a pair of shorts and my hiking boots, 17 year-old me, crept carefully into the aspen grove, making my way towards the base of the cliff in a round-about way, scanning the forest constantly, but I did not see anything. Whatever it was, was gone. So I cut back towards the trail. As I approached two giant boulders resting side by side, I noticed movement on the ground.

I stooped to pick up a tuft of thick white wool and rolled it in my fingers. Mountain Goat wool. Another tuft of wool trundled towards me in the breeze. Goat wool littered the ground ahead of me. I stood up, took a long slow breath, and stepped between the boulders.

A massive cougar crouched over her kill, 20 feet away. Her thick, tan fur could not hide the muscular contours of her shoulders and back. The snow at her feet was red–bright red. The lion looked up. Our eyes locked. Time stopped. I was aware of every single detail of this consummate predator’s yellow eyes.

I was too full of absolute awe and stunned marvel to feel even a remote strand of fear. It remains one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. One or two seconds passed. That is all.
There was a blur of silent movement, a glimpse of hind legs and a long tail flung high in the air, and a thrashing of brush. The cougar was gone.

My attention shifted to the crumpled newborn mountain goat on the ground in front of me. Steam rose from the pooled blood on the miniature ribcage. The little goat’s wool was pure white and contrasted with jet-back hooves and eyes.

The prints in the snow told the story. The cougar circled the newborn prey, slowly decreasing her radius. I imagine her head low, beneath shoulder blades oscillating in slow motion, and eyes laser focused. The two-week-old goat turned in an even tighter circle, letting out a series of cries, as the mother goat paced helplessly, watching from the narrow ledge above. A lethal pounce from the cougar synchronized with the final cries of the little goat—the cries we heard from the trail.

Mountain Lion Courtesy US FWS Larry Moats, Photographer — Mountain Lion (Cougar)
Courtesy US FWS
Larry Moats, Photographer

A pair of giant cat tracks, left behind when the cougar fled, were embedded in the snow bank. I set my outstretched hand and fingers into the paw prints. Then I stood up. High above, through the barren aspen branches, I could see the nanny goat on the gray-granite cliffs, peering down. I scanned the woods for one more glimpse of the big cat. I wondered where she was hiding, knowing she was watching.

At that moment I came to my senses. I realized I needed to leave and not interfere with the cycles that were in motion. I turned and walked back towards my pack on the trail, then hurried to catch my friends—glancing over my shoulder from time to time—all the while thinking about those piercing yellow eyes.

I’m Eric Newell and I am wild about Utah’s wild public lands

Credits:
Images: Lone Peak Wilderness Courtesy and Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
Mountain Goat with Kid, Courtesy US FWS, Lawrence S Smith, Photographer, https://images.fws.gov/
Mountain Lion, Courtesy US FWS, Larry Moat, Photographer, https://images.fws.gov/
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Anderson, Wakeman and Howe.
Text: Eric Newell, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University
Additional Reading: Eric Newell

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Eric Newell

Shughart, Hilary, Mountain Lions Are Keystone Providers for Birds!, Wild About Utah, May 1, 2023, https://wildaboututah.org/mountain-lions-are-keystone-providers-for-birds/

Leavitt, Shauna, Cougars in Utah, Wild About Utah, October 7, 2019, https://wildaboututah.org/cougars-in-utah/

Greene, Jack, My Cougar Encounter, Wild About Utah, January 16, 2017, https://wildaboututah.org/my-cougar-encounter/

Strand, Holly, Mountain Lion, Wild About Utah, March 4, 2010, https://wildaboututah.org/mountain-lion/

Mountain Lion or Courgar – Puma concolor, Fieldguide, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, https://fieldguide.wildlife.utah.gov/?species=puma%20concolor

What to do if you encounter a mountain lion in Utah, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, May 21, 2024, https://wildlife.utah.gov/news/utah-wildlife-news/1906-what-to-do-if-you-encounter-a-mountain-lion-in-utah.html

March 10, 2025March 10, 2025

Three of Logan’s Finest

The Folly Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer — The Folly
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Kick. Step. Breathe. Kick. Step. Breathe.

Skier John Louviere Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer — Skier John Louviere
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Skier Eric Newell
Courtesy & Copyright John Louviere, Photographer

Skier Eric Newell Courtesy & Copyright John Louviere, Photographer — Skier John Louviere
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Skier Eric Newell
Courtesy & Copyright John Louviere, Photographer

Miniature pellets of snow swirl past my face, land on the slope we are struggling against, then tumble hundreds of feet down the snow-encased mountain. My friend John Louviere and I have skied the Bear River Range backcountry together since we first met as Utah State University students in 1995.

Today the light is flat, causing both sky and mountain to blend into a single dimension, making it difficult to distinguish snow from clouds. The Dry Canyon slope we are ascending is prominent from nearly everywhere in Cache Valley. Each winter its absolute openness and gentle, seductive rolls tantalize backcountry skiers. For us, it is a blank canvas. We stare at it on our way to and from work, occasionally spotting other skier’s tracks, best highlighted when late evening sunlight turns the mountain hues of pink and orange.

But embedded in the stark beauty of this mountain is a dark past. Backcountry skiers call this slope “The Folly” for good reason: it measures exactly thirty-eight degrees in steepness—precisely the slope angle that produces the most deadly avalanches. Thirty-eight degree slopes are gentle enough to allow dangerous slabs of snow to build, where they can rest precariously without commitment to the mountain. A single skier, snowboarder, snowmobile, or even just one last snowflake can set it all in motion.

Because The Folly faces southwest, prevailing winds tend to transport freshly fallen snow off the slope, over the ridge, and deposit it in Spring Hollow. Afternoon sunshine also welds new layers of snow to old layers rather quickly. Both of these factors combine to stabilize the slope, despite its steepness, but it still shouldn’t be reckoned with unless you know and understand the composition and history of the snowpack. The spring-like conditions present today are exactly what John and I have waited for—everything is frozen firmly in place.
In January of 1997, Karl Mueggler and Max Lyon, who both grew up in Cache Valley, were visiting families for the holidays. The two decided to catch up on old times with Logan resident Keith Maas by ski-camping in Dry Canyon.

They pitched their tents in a stand of aspens interspersed with Englemann spruce at the base of The Folly. Trees generally serve as a good indicator of safety from avalanches since proven slide paths obliterate timber. Had they camped there any other night in a 20-year span, they would have awakened to another memorable ski day.
But while they slept, a foot of new snow fell and the west wind shifted, blowing violently from the northeast, heaping tons of snow from the Spring Hollow side onto The Folly. A week before, unseasonably warm temperatures caused rain to fall on the slope which later froze into a hard, smooth ice crust. All of these factors combined to create the perfect conditions for a spontaneous and catastrophic avalanche.

Despite their years of backcountry experience Karl, Max, and Keith were buried in their tent under five feet of concrete-hard snow. The community was devastated. Though I didn’t know Karl or Keith, I had spent a day skiing with Max only a few weeks before. He embodied the type of person anyone would aspire to become. Excitement for living radiated from his face. He laughed easily and spoke optimistically of the future. The same has been said of Karl and Keith. They were educators, outdoor activists, and advocates for community.
Over the years, I venture up here in the spring to pay tribute to their lives.

At the top of The Folly, still surrounded by thick clouds and meandering snowflakes, we start down, one at a time. Without warning, gracious sunlight bursts through the squall. We accelerate, gliding over the glowing snow, unsure if we are flying or skiing—a truly ethereal moment. The snow beneath our skis is firm and our metal edges cut tight turns with precision as we descend from the clouds, honoring three of Logan’s finest the best way we know how.

I’m Eric Newell, and I am wild about Utah.

Credits:
Images: Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer, Eric Newell image Courtesy & Copyright John Louviere
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/, Courtesy & © Friend Weller, https://www.upr.org/people/friend-weller, Courtesy & Copyright © Anderson, Howe, Wakeman
Thank you Eric Newell for recording the student audio clips
Text: Eric Newell, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University
Additional Reading: Eric Newell

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Eric Newell

A longer version of this story was printed in the Herald Journal Outdoors section May 5, 2006.

Opsahl, Kevin, Memories of fatal ’97 avalanche still fresh, The Herald Journal, Jan 14, 2017,
https://www.hjnews.com/accidents_disaster/memories-of-fatal-avalanche-still-fresh/article_03c457bd-ffa2-5e92-8527-38514ddb7016.html

“Outdoor Leadership Scholarship
The Lyon, Maas, Mueggler Outdoor Leadership Scholarship pays 50% of the tuition for the Desert Mountain Medicine Wilderness First Responder (WFR) certification course.”
Lyon, Maas, Mueggler, Outdoor Leadership Scholarship, Utah State University
https://www.usu.edu/campusrec/outdoor/

Cane, James, Snow Dynamics, Wild About Utah, February 2, 2012, https://wildaboututah.org/snow-pack-dynamics/

Utah Avalanche Center https://utahavalanchecenter.org/

January 13, 2025January 19, 2025

Hardware Ranch

Hardware Wildlife Management Area (WMA) provides refuge for hundreds of elk who congregate each December and hunker down for the duration of the winter.

Hardware Ranch: Riding Out to Feed the Elk Hardware Ranch Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer — Riding Out to Feed the Elk
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Elk Merge on Dropped Hay
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Preparing to Push the Bale
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Elk Fed, Riding Back
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Thoughts to Paper
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Documenting the Experience
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Elk Merge on Dropped Hay Hardware Ranch Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer — Riding Out to Feed the Elk
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Elk Merge on Dropped Hay
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Preparing to Push the Bale
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Elk Fed, Riding Back
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Thoughts to Paper
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Documenting the Experience
Hardware Ranch
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

In 2008, Hardware Education Director Marni Lee and I established a service-learning partnership. Since then, I have ventured up northern Utah’s Blacksmith Fork Canyon with about a thousand 5th and 6th graders—a half-dozen students at a time—to spend the day with DWR biologists and managers. Each morning, we feed roughly 5,000 pounds of hay to wintering elk (about ten pounds of hay per head) and we learn first-hand the details of how biologists monitor and manage wildlife and wildlife habitat.

We typically see bulls sparring or cows boxing over who gets first dibs on the freshly tossed hay. We often observe bald eagles and sometimes golden eagles. We’ve discovered flattened dried-out snakes in the hay bales who were scooped up into the baler the previous summer. We’ve helped relocate wild turkeys. We’ve examined an elk fetus after a cow elk was hit by a vehicle and miscarried on the road. We’ve seen coyote and cougar tracks. We’ve encountered moose, porcupines, beaver, ermine weasels, and snowshoe hares. Many impromptu anatomy lessons have occurred upon discovering deer carcasses—something that always fascinates students. We’ve watched biologists tranquilize wildlife, helped them humanely trap elk so they can test them for disease, measure back fat, and attach GPS tracking collars—all of which enable them to gather data that informs wildlife management decisions.

Throughout the day (and back in the classroom), math, science, and language arts curriculum standards are woven into the experience. This is my kind of school. “Mister Nool’s Schewell,” as one student wrote with a giggle.

Depending on conditions, after lunch we hike, snowshoe, or cross-country ski to various overlooks where students sit down, pull out their field journals, and write. I never check their notebooks for writing conventions—there is plenty of time to polish spelling and grammar in the classroom. The goal here is to capture the magic of mountains.

Here are few recent samples of Edith Bowen Laboratory School 5th graders’ writings recorded in the wild, with the wind in background:

Harper:
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be sitting on the top of a mountain with the sun smiling warmly up above on your face and the birds ‘chirpling’ happily with the polka-dotty mountains?”

Macey:
“Hardware Ranch Hike: As I write, I bathe in the sun. I hear the pages turning and I see the lime-green rock and the evergreen trees battling the white snow. As the birds chirp, the breeze makes my hair flow. The light sprinkle of snow gets rushed by the wind. I get a little chilly but the view makes up for it. The gentle curves of the mountain covered in the snow, the dark green mountains surrounding me, and the moss-coved rocks that feel like a pillow.”

Boston:
“Today we went to Hardware Ranch. We went on a great hike to the top of a mountain. I am writing these words on the top of that mountain. The wind up here is whooshing through my ears. On this hike I have collected two things. A hawk feather and an elk tooth.
This fieldtrip to Hardware Ranch was a really great fieldtrip. I hope you get to come here too.”

Mike:
“I have experienced breathtaking views before and I have seen phenomenal creatures, but I’ve never seen so many different kinds on the same day. I could live here. It’s so peaceful. The wind is paralyzing. If you haven’t come here yet, you have to do it now. This place is for wildlife lovers, nature lovers, and if you’re like me, love both. Either way this place is spectacular. I wish that I could stay.”

I do too.

I am Eric Newell,
I am Harper Famer,
I am Macey Hill,
I am Boston Winn,
I am Mike Brandley,
and we are wild about writing in the wild country.

Credits:
Images: Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer. Used with permission of the photographer, students and parents
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/, Courtesy & © Friend Weller, https://www.upr.org/people/friend-weller, Courtesy & Copyright © Anderson, Howe, Wakeman
Thank you Eric Newell for recording the student audio clips
Text: Eric Newell, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University
Additional Reading: Eric Newell

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Eric Newell

Link to Hardware WMA website and information about sleigh rides:

Haviland’s Old West Adventures will offer horse-drawn sleigh and wagon rides* through the elk herd on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays from Dec. 6 through Feb. 9. Rides start at 10 a.m. and end at 4:30 p.m. each day. Each ride lasts about 40 minutes. Follow the link for more information, including rates:
https://wildlife.utah.gov/hardware-visit.html

Anderson, Michael, DWR, USU partner to get fifth-graders excited about science, writing, KSL-TV, January 15, 2016, https://www.ksl.com/article/38150310/dwr-usu-partner-to-get-fifth-graders-excited-about-science-writing

Hardware Ranch field experience video (2008), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x46T5jt-CDI

Edith Bowen Laboratory School, edithbowen.usu.edu
Follow us on Instagram and Facebook:
@edithbowenlaboratoryschool
Facebook, Edith Bowen Laboratory School

Mount Logan Middle School Discovery Program (2008-2016), MountLoganDiscovery.org

What is Brucellosis? https://wildlife.utah.gov/brucellosis.html

Gurrister, Tom, Utah elk test clean of brucellosis, unlike Idaho and Wyoming, Gephardt Daily, March 15, 2024, https://gephardtdaily.com/local/utah-elk-test-clean-of-brucellosis-unlike-idaho-and-wyoming-2/

November 11, 2024January 13, 2025

The World Keeps Turning

Bald Eagle Gliding on a Thermal
Courtesy Pixabay, Dave Eslinger, Photographer/Contributor

I stepped outside on election morning, into a gusty, cold wind. Leaves skidded across the ground, mixed with heavy graupel which fell hard from sky, pelting me from all directions. Graupel is a type of snow—soft hail-like miniature snowballs—that fall with turbulent winds typically associated with either the beginning or the end of a storm cycle. It seemed fitting and it made me smile—in a curious and uneasy sort-of-way.

To the west, through the dim-gray rage of the storm, the Wellsville Mountains appeared to glow in the morning light.

Regardless of the outcome of the election, the earth keeps turning. And though elections can—and do—have direct impact on the wildlands of Utah and the health of our planet, today, the crows in the yellow pine in my front yard still call out, “Caw! Caw! Caw!” The snow still accumulates on the highest peaks. Squirrels still scurry frantically to cache enough supplies for winter. The Bear River keeps flowing to the Great Salt Lake, steady and silent.

In this climate of divisiveness I want to believe, at the core, we all share similar values that we express differently.

US Flag
Courtesy Pixabay, RoadTripGuys photographer/contributor

I found myself reflecting back on September 11, 2001—how helpless I felt watching the news throughout the day. Late in the afternoon, I headed up Logan Canyon to center my thoughts and to finish a climbing route I had been working to establish. I carefully painted the last bolt anchor at the top of the climb with stars and stripes—it wouldn’t be visible from below—and named the route “Old Glory.”

That time alone on the mountain brought clarity. I came home, called the Scouts in my troop and told them we were flying the flags and to meet at my house as soon as they could. Troop 1, at the time, volunteered to hang the US flags on Main Street in Logan for holidays—it was a task I dreaded sometimes, because it was an inconvenience. Suddenly it felt like the most important thing we could do.

I didn’t ask permission from anyone. I had the key to the flag shed.

Four or five teens and I loaded one hundred American Flags into my van. As we drove slowly down Main Street—hazards flashing, stopping at each light post so the boys could mount each flag—everyone driving past honked and cheered. The boys knew we were part of something special that night—something that mattered. We were part of building a sense resilience and unity.

I have flown the flag at my house ever since.

United we stand.

Votes are being cast as I write. When this segment airs on Monday, we should know the outcomes of local, state, and national races. And those first rays of sunshine that set the Wellsville’s aglow through the graupel this morning—I hope they are a signal for all of us that the end of this storm is near. I hope we can all move past hate, past fear, past division, to a place of understanding that the left wing and the right wing are extensions of the whole bird.

My wife shared Mary Oliver’s poem, “I Worried,” with me this morning and I think I shall do as Mary did:

She wrote: “Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing. And gave it up. And took my old body and went out into the morning and sang.”

I am Eric Newell and I am Wild About Utah

Credits:
Images: Bald Eagle-Courtesy Pixabay, Dave Eslinger, Photographer/Contributor, https://pixabay.com/users/dave_e-6829662/
US Flag-Courtesy Pixabay, Road Trip Guys, Photographer/Contributor, https://pixabay.com/photos/us-flag-old-glory-american-flag-3838582/
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/ and Rubber Rodeo-Before I Go Away, Producer, Hugh Jones, Writer, Barc Holmes, https://www.discogs.com/artist/311765-Rubber-Rodeo
Text: Eric Newell, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University
Additional Reading: Eric Newell

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Eric Newell

https://avalanche.org/avalanche-encyclopedia/snowpack/weak-layer/storm-snow-weak-layers/graupel-rimed-particles/

https://www.mindfulnessassociation.net/words-of-wonder/i-worried-mary-oliver/