The sub-alpine gives us skiing, mountain biking and grizzly bears – and a whole lot more.

Okay, so here’s the thing: people and most living organisms – including most mammals and birds and even plants – are pretty similar.

Sure, we enjoy different skills, but we have similar values: we all like reasonable weather, nutrient-rich food, easy to access water, and terrain that isn’t onerous to navigate.

And that’s why, from humans to salmon to robins to beavers, we’ve come to the same conclusion: valley bottoms are the best places to live and raise a family.

But just because there is more biodiversity in places like the sub-boreal or inland rainforest, doesn’t mean the sub-alpine eco-region is devoid of life. In fact, for most species, this sandwich zone – between 1350 metres and 1950 metres in Mount Robson; the area between where most life lives and where almost no life lives – is of significant importance.

For people? In addition to providing critical ecosystem services that help us survive (you know, like water-creating-and-purifying headwaters and weather-creating-and-climate-regulating mountains), the sub-alpine also seems to be where many of us find fun – skiing, mountain biking, recording TikTok videos with cool backdrops…

via GIPHY

For wildlife, in addition to benefiting from those same ecosystem services, the sub-alpine is also a seasonal retreat.

As most of you know, this is a landscape defined by winter. In Mount Robson, winter in the subalpine starts in September and lasts until June (and you thought Calgary summers were short).

The steep slopes and cold, consistent moisture – known to many as snow – means only some species make this area their year-round home. But those that do – the golden larch, the Englemann spruce and, most critically, the whitebark pine – thrive.

It’s hard to imagine a tree being a keystone species, but that’s exactly what the whitebark pine is.

Tolerant of the most extreme conditions that the weather gods can throw at it, the whitebark pine is a hearty creature. It can live for 500 years – and some believe even over 1000 years. And amongst the oldest stands in Canada? You guessed it, right here in Mount Robson’s subalpine.

Because it can live for so long and because it can withstand the wind and snow and the altitude, it’s one of the few trees that can establish the root system needed to keep the whole mountain in place.

Without the

whitebark pine?

Damaging erosion can follow, destroying habitat and literally muddying the waters for those living in the valley bottoms. Like you, me, the salmon and the rest of our neighbours.

Of course, some erosion is good – like what’s caused by avalanches.

Sure, avalanches are scary and deadly and generally people don’t like them, especially if their view of the sub-alpine is simply a place to go skiing. But like naturally occurring wildfire – another natural phenomenon we don’t love – it’s critical to replenishing the ecosystem in ways humans simply are unable to re-create.

via GIPHY

Recent studies have shown that avalanches aren’t the ecological disaster we once thought; they’re actually a keystone process.

Avalanches create more diversity of flora in a sub-alpine eco-region than would otherwise exist. These plants exist to serve special niches and that, in turn, creates seasonal habitat for keystone species, such as the grizzly bear.

Yes, the grizzlies need the seeds from whitebark pine in the fall, but they also need some open, high elevation spaces, free of trees, for other types of vegetation to grow, helping feed them in the summer.

Think about it: post-avalanche, the forested sub-alpine is now littered with openings to help the sunlight get in. For bears in the spring, it means west and south-facing avalanche slopes become snow free first and start growing critical foods first (mmm, glacier lily bulbs).

Valley bottoms offer early greens too, but – as we already covered – there is more competition, usually from people. And, hey, when the snow from the avalanche melts, it might uncover an animal killed by said avalanche – and a bear has never been one to turn its nose up at free food.

Avalanche slopes also offer another advantage for seasonal residents like grizzlies: nearby forest cover for rest and safety. It’s why clear-cuts haven’t always achieved the same results as, say, ski hills, in providing bears with just the right kind of sub-alpine disruption – and why ski hills, in addition to occasionally putting people and wildlife in conflict, are too manicured to be seeded with the right types of foods to replace the work done by an avalanche.

But here’s the thing (and you knew a but was coming): over the last century, like wildfires, avalanches are a natural process we tried to suppress and where we’ve suppressed it – again, like wildfires – bad things have happened.

Too few avalanches? Grizzlies lose critical food, making it harder for them to make a living on the landscape.

With too few fires? Now instead of smaller re-occurring wild fire, you get super fires that burn hotter and faster and further.

Too few

avalanches and

too few fires?

You’ve lost the natural firebreak created by avalanches, creating way more burn than is natural in places like, you got it, the sub-alpine.

What does that mean? Well, nothing good for grizzlies and whitebark pine – and when those two species get impacted, the entire food chain starts to feel the impact.

And when that happens?

There are fewer fail-safes for, say, when winters aren’t as cold as they once were and insects, as a result, start to multiply and spread faster than they should and that in turn creates hotter winters and… Well, you get the picture.

And, unfortunately, this is the story of the whitebark pine.

It’s endangered across its range and, in some places, it’s been reduced by more than 90%. An invasive fungus is killing the trees, but compounding the problem are super fires and changing regulators and processes on the landscape for a tree that takes 50 years to yield its first pinecone (and 80 years before attracting the creatures it feeds with its seeds).

So, that’s not good. Especially if we want grizzlies to stay around to do their job of maintaining the food web and mountains to, you know, not fall down (helloooo erosion!).

But the good news?

In the wilderness areas of Mount Robson, avalanches and forest fires and grizzly bears and whitebark pine are all still doing their thing. Which is great and so too is the fact BC Parks is literally captive breeding and re-releasing whitebark pine trees into the wilderness.

Of course, this is but one small park in a world of ups and downs, pressures and interventions, and it alone can’t save biodiversity’s day. But because it has a functioning sub-alpine eco-region and the processes and life it sustains and requires? We’ve got a bit more margin for error elsewhere.

Down here in the valley bottom, that’s looking pretty good about now.

What do you think?

How much did you know about the sub alpine before this story? How did you know so much, or why did you know so little?
What was the most surprising thing you learned reading this story? Why did you find it surprising? How would you share what you’ve learn from this story with your friends and family?
Do you think the sub alpine matters? Why or why not?
How have your opinions on the sub alpine been influenced by media and pop culture?
Do you think your perspectives on the sub alpine have been shaped because of the media you’ve consumed in the past? How could you learn more about the sub alpine - and different perspectives - about the sub alpine going forward without it becoming a chore?
How does the sub alpine impact your world? If the sub alpine disappeared from your region, how might it affect your life? Would it?
Is the sub alpine near you? If not, what is the closest region that has sub alpine characteristics?
What local decisions impact the sub alpine? Are there any citizen science projects to help others learn about the sub alpine in your area? Are there community research programs? Any stories about the sub alpine? How might different careers influence the future of the sub alpine?
Do you think our society is making well informed decisions when it comes to the sub alpine? Why do you think that? What would you do better?
How might you be a better steward of the sub alpine through your passions and hobbies?
What do we not know when it comes to the sub alpine region in Mount Robson, or in or near your community? Do we know enough, or do we need to know more about their role in the ecosystem and their value to biodiversity to make important decisions for people and nature? If so, what?
Where have super fires occurred in the past few years? Why did they happen there?
Should more people know about the power of the sub alpine?

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