Column: Ride along with a conservation officer

After wrestling my beat-up Subaru through the curling canyon roads of U.S. Route 89, I reached the peak of West Logan Road and was reminded why the drive to Bear Lake is always worth it. The waterfront was gray and quiet as it often is this time of year, but the unmistakable Bear Lake blue still managed to shine through. Despite the town’s calm surface, the man I was going to meet would soon show me this vast ecosystem holds far more activity than meets the eye. 

I met Kolby White, a senior conservation officer, and his energetic K-9 partner Bear at the Bear Lake visitor’s center to join them for a typical day in the field. The irony of a journalist who spends most of her time behind a computer screen accompanying a wilderness expert on his daily outdoor adventures wasn’t lost on me, but I approached the day with a curious and open mind. 

My curiosity was quickly tested when we set out on our first task and White pulled the head of an antlered elk from the bed of his truck. Today, he explained, Bear would be practicing locating animal remains, and the elk head was a new, if unfortunate, addition to their collection of training specimens. 

White explained while his job as a conservation officer grants him many of the same responsibilities as a police deputy, his main specialization is protecting wildlife under Idaho Fish and Game Code Title 36. One way he and Bear do this is by locating animal remains to investigate wildlife-related crimes and deter or intercept poachers. 

This particular elk head came from a case involving an antlered bull hunted and abandoned illegally in the Idaho wilderness. Violations like this, White said, weren’t rare. In fact, they were a regular, if not daily, occurrence. It is his and Bear’s job to keep up with and enforce the ever-changing hunting laws. I had yet to realize just how regular those violations were. 

As White hid plastic-sealed samples of deer and grouse remains among a row of cars, he explained although these regulations can seem excessive to some, they’re grounded in scientific monitoring of the ecosystem. Protecting individual populations often means protecting the health of everything that depends on them. 

Before Bear began his search, White took us out for a quick routine compliance patrol. On the way, he shared why this work matters so deeply to him. 

White grew up on a dairy farm, spending most of his childhood hunting, fishing and exploring the outdoors. His grandfather, a longtime conservation officer, known more commonly as a game warden, showed him firsthand the importance of protecting a resource so many people rely on. Through those experiences, White learned wildlife management isn’t just about enforcing rules — it’s about stewardship. 

According to White, the wildlife in a given area belongs to the citizens who live there. In that sense, poaching is a form of theft, but he believes it’s more serious than that. A stolen TV can be replaced. A deer cannot be revived and returned to its ecosystem. Without officers like White in place, opportunities to hunt, fish or simply enjoy wildlife could be stolen from future generations. 

The compliance check went smoothly. The two men White approached had all the required licenses. The only criminal activity present at the scene was an old fish carcass lying on the rocks— a minor but illegal disposal method and as White pointed out, an unsanitary one. 

Back at the parking lot, Bear completed his sniff test quickly and confidently, bouncing with excitement each time he located a sample. White walked alongside him, explaining what makes dogs like Bear perfect for this work isn’t just their breed or physicality but their relentless drive to search. 

I got to see Bear’s full abilities in action when White received a call about a possible wildlife crime. The body of an antlered elk had been discovered on private property during antlerless hunting season, and it was now White’s responsibility to determine what happened. 

Following the directions from the report, we eventually reached a hillside where Bear darted ahead, disappearing into sagebrush before quickly alerting White he had found the elk. 

White began surveying the area for clues. Tire tracks led from the elk’s body into a grassy field, suggesting it had been moved. The elk had been covered in freshly pulled sagebrush — an attempt to hide it, though not a very effective one. Based on the condition of the carcass, White estimated it had been there for at least a couple of days. 

A crucial part of the investigation, he explained, would be locating the bullet to determine the type of gun used. That meant he needed to skin the animal. He warned me the process might be intense for someone unfamiliar with field work, but I stayed, wanting to understand his perspective as completely as I could. 

Nothing could have fully prepared me for the sensory experience, but once the initial shock of the sight and smell faded, I found myself feeling strangely clear-minded. 

While he worked, White explained hunting and skinning an animal for consumption is a universal practice that goes back thousands of years. Around Bear Lake, hunting and fishing remain essential parts of many people’s livelihoods. Knowing where your food comes from, he said, brings a sense of security and a responsibility to protect the resources that provide it.