Nepal's hunting ground becomes a haven
Plus: A marine park closes in France, Florida builds wildlife crossings, and Colorado's wolves find new homes
Good morning from the Rockies, where it's supposed to hit -15 degrees tonight. The cold makes me long for the warmth of last month's trip to Nepal. Yes, Nepal — while it might conjure images of equally frigid Himalayan peaks, 36% of the country is tropical. In fact, Nepal’s Terai region has much more in common with wet, hot India than the barren peaks in the north, and that’s where I found myself during my visit to the country’s first national park, Chitwan.
From hunting grounds to a conservation success
The flight down from Kathmandu was a little white-knuckled, even for someone who typically has no qualms about flying – Nepal's aviation safety record is spotty enough that their airlines are currently banned from EU airspace. But the alternative was a bone-rattling 8-hour drive, and based on the insane driving I saw in Kathmandu, that would be almost certainly more risky than 25 minutes aboard Buddha Air (the best of the in-country operators, according to our guides.)
Chitwan itself has an equally wild history. In 1938, a British Viceroy proudly reported killing 120 tigers, 28 rhinos, 27 leopards, and 15 bears in a single hunting campaign. Indeed, for nearly a century, Chitwan was the exclusive hunting playground of Nepal's rulers and their distinguished guests. When I visited 86 years later, those killing fields have become Nepal's most successful conservation story, a place where armed guards in the Nepalese military protect rather than hunt the wildlife. (Just don't photograph the military installations. They take their job very seriously.)
In the 1960s, after U.S.-led malaria eradication efforts opened the tropics for settlement, Nepal's Terai saw a massive influx of people. As forests were cleared for farmland, wildlife populations plummeted.
Alarmed, the government established Chitwan in 1973 and began encouraging the locals to take a hand in the park’s conservation. Since then, the tourism the park enables provides a substantial portion of the region’s economy. We stayed in a lodge just outside the park, one of many that exist alongside locals offering up their residences as homestays. Even the airport itself is painted with murals about the importance of the local wildlife.
Just across the river marking the park's border, we had our first stroke of luck – a mother rhino and her calf grazing peacefully near our lodge. These one-horned giants were down to just 100 individuals in 1966. Today, thanks to intense conservation efforts, they've rebounded to over 750 in the park; I was told it’s been a generation since there have been any lost to poaching inside the grounds.
You’re constrained to a few main Jeep roads whilst inside the park, usually accompanied by a local. These guides are experts at spotting rhinos, though it still requires care. While rhinos generally ignore the jeeps, on foot it's a different story. During our one walking expedition, our guide gave very specific instructions: if a rhino charges, hide behind the biggest tree you can find. (We fortunately didn’t have to put that to the test.)
I came hoping to see tigers, but like most visitors, had to settle for footprints. The park's famous elephant grass – tall enough to hide an actual elephant – provides perfect cover for the big cats. Still, knowing they were there, invisible but present, added an edge to every new stretch of road in the park. I spent a lot of time scanning in the bushes and undergrowth hoping to catch at least a flash of orange and black stripes — no dice.
But while tigers remained elusive, the park's waterways offered encounters with another fascinating predator — the gharial. Imagine a regular crocodile, but give it a pencil-thin snout filled with needle-sharp teeth. On shore and in the water, they’re easily mistaken for driftwood. They're critically endangered, found only in the rivers of the Indian subcontinent. Chitwan runs a breeding program, but they're still struggling to rebuild their population.
What really surprised me was the birdlife. Chitwan sits where the plains meet the Himalayas, creating a unique mixing zone. In winter, high-altitude species descend to the warmer lowlands, creating a spectacular variety — more than 650 species call the park home for at least part of the year. The highlight? A pair of hornbills – massive, prehistoric-looking birds that mate for life and live in the park's old-growth forests. When nesting, the female seals herself into a tree cavity, relying entirely on her mate to bring her food until the chicks fledge.
The transformation from the blood-soaked hunting grounds of the 1930s to today's thriving sanctuary wasn't easy. It required relocating villages, deploying the military, and fundamentally changing how people relate to wildlife. But today, in one of Asia's poorest and most densely populated countries, rhinos are thriving and local communities see themselves as their guardians. That's more than a conservation success – it's a blueprint for other parts of the world.
Quick Links!
Marineland France, one of Europe's largest marine parks, is closing its doors this month after decades of controversy. The park's closure comes amid growing concerns about keeping marine mammals in captivity, particularly following the deaths of several orcas at marine parks across Europe. While French law aims to relocate captive animals to seaside sanctuaries, Marineland's remaining orcas, Wikie and Keijo, still need to find a new home. Marineland’s closure reflects a broader shift in public attitudes - in recent years, travel companies and local governments have increasingly distanced themselves from marine mammal shows, suggesting the era of captive orca entertainment may be blessedly drawing to a close.
Florida just secured $6.1 million in federal funding for new wildlife crossings to protect endangered Florida panthers. The timing couldn't be more critical - 30 panthers were killed by vehicles in 2023, a significant toll for a population estimated at only 120-230 animals. The state plans to break ground on three new wildlife crossings in 2025, including one on US 27 that will connect to newly protected ranchland. The projects are part of a larger conservation plan that identifies 23 priority areas for future wildlife crossings, aiming to help panthers safely navigate Florida's rapidly developing landscape.
Colorado completed its latest wolf reintroduction, releasing 15 wolves from British Columbia onto the Western Slope this month. We talked about the controversy around the planned release in last Wednesday’s newsletter, and it happened under heightened secrecy after threats and surveillance of wildlife officials, adding tension to an already controversial program. The new arrivals join 9 existing wolves in Colorado, including survivors from last year's release.
See you Wednesday — a reminder that every new reader referred in this week adds another $10 to our FUZZ FUNDS donation for the month. My sister already gleefully took advantage of the chance to redirect some of my money into better hands; you should, too.