A chorus of howls sounds from the nearby woods not long after sunrise. I crawl out of my sleeping bag, shaking off the remnants of a blissfully heavy great-outdoors sleep, and unzip the tent to have a peek outside. City life seems hundreds of miles away, but I’m really just an hour outside NYC. I’m not waking up at Yellowstone but in Westchester County.
The 28-acreWolf Conservation Center, less than 60 miles from the city in South Salem, is home to 22 wild wolves, and its mission is twofold. It participates in the Species Survival Plan for the Mexican gray wolf and red wolf, working with other facilities, mostly zoos, to breed the endangered species and reintroduce some to the wild. It also serves as an education center, holding various programs, both on- and off-site, to educate children and adults about wolves.
But the center’s most intriguing program is “Sleeping With Wolves”—a “nocturnal adventure,” complete with howls and yelps in the night . .. or early morning.
“It’s camping with a wild edge,” says Maggie Howell, the center’s executive director. (Thankfully, it’s not so “wild” as to not have a Porta-Potty and running water.)
I signed up and, on a recent Friday at 6 p.m., I joined 30-some guests — a few families with young children, a Girl Scout troop, a few adults on their own — for the sleepover.
After you settle into tents, you can check out the three “ambassador” wolves who have been socialized to human attention for the educational programs. There’s Atka, a majestic 11-year-old Arctic gray wolf and the “face” of the center, who travels around the tri-state area, making more than 100 appearances yearly at schools, museums and the like.
Zephyr and Alawa, both 2, and a lively, brother-sister pair of Canadian/Rocky mountain gray wolves, also act as ambassador pups but don’t travel away from the center.
The wolves are securely enclosed by a tall chain-link fence, but guests can go right up to it, and the ambassador wolves often come up close to say hi —“No fingers on the fence” is a common refrain from parents and staffers. At no point during the program do they come out of their large, wooded enclosures— this is no petting-zoo experience.
“We want people to understand they’re not pets,” says Howell. “They’re really ambassadors for their wild kin.”
Claire Fullington, 7, first met Atka four years ago when the wolf made an appearance at her local nature center in Darien, Conn. “She’s been obsessed ever since,” says mom Mollie Fullington. Clutching a large stuffed wolf named “Mama Wolfie,” Claire celebrated her seventh birthday at the sleepover with older sister Julia, 9, Momand Dad, and their neighbors the Maccarrone family. Mollie says, “We got a lot of grief” from friends when they said they were having a children’s birthday party at a wolf center. The Maccarrones, however, were up for it. “This may be the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” says dad David Maccarrone, “taking my wife and three kids to sleep with wolves.”
Around 7 p.m., pizza arrives— and the kids enjoy slices on bleachers right next to Zephyr and Alawa. Zephyr runs up and down the length of the fence, smelling the cheese slices, almost begging like a family dog. “All dogs are descended from wolves,” exclaims center volunteer and the evening’s guide, Michael McGuire. “There’s a wolf in your home.”
After dinner, McGuire gives a short lesson on the wolves. We learn that they’re fed mostly roadkill deer, which is frozen to kill parasites, and the occasional chicken—but never livestock, like beef or lamb. He shows us how Atka has narrower shoulders and bigger paws than the other ambassador wolves, the better to tread across snowy landscapes.
McGuire throws bits of turkey over the fence to Zephyr and Alawa, who gleefully jump in the air for it. Alawa snarls and keeps Zephyr in line. She’s the alpha, McGuire explains, noting how pack dynamics are integral to wolf life and survival.
We also get a glimpse of some of the center’s more elusive— and endangered—Mexican gray and red wolves. These non-ambassador wolves have numbers, not names, and limited human contact, in hopes that some can eventually be rereleased to the wild throughout the US. In the 1970s, only seven Mexican grays were left in the world. That number has since grown to about 400, through diligent captive breeding programs. With such a small gene pool, extensive genetic records are kept, and mates are matched with care to keep the species healthy.
When darkness fully sets in, McGuire shows a surprisingly captivating National Geographic documentary called “The Rise of Black Wolf” on an outdoor screen next to Zephyr and Alawa. It details the life of a rogue wolf who leaves his pack to become the “Cassanova” of Yellowstone, surviving by loving the ladies but never challenging a male alpha’s dominance.
By the end, everyone has a better understanding of the often misunderstood, and maligned, animal. “They’ve been villainized in our culture for centuries,” says the center’s Howell. “So many people have just venom for wolves.”
Howell notes that this is an especially critical time for wolves. The Fish and Wildlife Service is currently considering ending federal protection for gray wolves, saying the population has adequately recovered and the wolves are no longer an endangered species. Howell, however, says wolf hunts are likely to follow if protections are lifted, and many in the scientific community have spoken out against the proposal. “The nationwide delisting is premature,” she asserts.
The overnights primarily attract families and scout troops, but they’re not just for children.
“I’m so glad we came,” says Wendy Enos, 41, a detective from Astoria, who attended the overnight with two girlfriends.
“I can’t believe how much I learned about how having predators saves the whole ecosystem,” says her friend Luz Arpino, 52, a personal trainer who also lives in Astoria.
After the movie, everyone sits around the campfire for marshmallow roasting and s’mores. Then it’s off to bed for some sleep —and hopefully a late-night or early-morning howling concert.
The next morning, Julia Fullington is impressed after receiving a wolf wake-up call. “Instead of hearing the birds tweeting, you wake up to the wolves howling,” the 9-year-old enthuses, though she admits, “I would have liked it better if the wolves were just out roaming around.” Her mother has the opposite opinion, praising the “very high fences” and general feeling of safety. But she agrees with her daughter on the morning call of the wolves.
“The highlight was waking up Saturday morning to a ‘rally’ and having my daughters, bleary from the wonders of late-night s’mores around the campfire and lack of sleep, dash out to the enclosures to watch and listen as the wolves howled a good morning,” she says. “It was a thrill for me, too!”
“Sleeping with Wolves” is held every weekend through the end of October; $285 per four person tent; nywolf.org.