OUTDOORS: City slicker spends day with game warden

SANDERS COUNTY – Waking up early on a Sunday morning has never been part of my routine. Sunday’s are a day to relax and sleep late. I might go to the office around noon or so to finish up the stories for press time or whatever else I have to do. The annoying buzz of my iPhone alarm goes off promptly at 6:25 a.m. The ringing is loud and hits your like the bitter cold of a winter’s day. Today marks my first day in the woods of Montana.

Hunting season had begun and a ride along with Region One Game Warden Tom Chianelli is on my plate. I grew up in the flatlands of the Hoosier state. Hunting was a past time in Indiana, just not one for me. I was a city kid. I had no idea what to expect when I pulled up to the office at 7 with the dense fog covering the city of Plains. I found Tom already at the Valley Press office waiting on my arrival.

“We are going to have to wait on some of this fog to lift,” Chianelli said. “We have to go check out a suspected hunting without owner’s permission in Thompson.”

I had an idea of what that meant, but was not sure exactly what we were in for. As the sun came up, the fog was still thick. Visibility was low – about 40 yards. We parked along a fence line where the suspect had reportedly been parked. The walk alongside the fence warranted no help for shell casing or tire marks. Finally the fog lifted and I could see farther.

We approached the owner’s front door and were greeted with thanks and hospitality. Chianelli introduced himself and me to the owners and they were glad he had arrived. We drove along the old road to where the hunter had said he shot an elk four times. After spending an hour climbing the hill, searching for the bull, we found nothing. The hunter knew he was in the wrong. He was young and made a bad choice, one that ended up costing him some money. Chianelli decided to write a citation for hunting without permission.

After driving for a short bit Chianelli took me to Clear Creek to set up a checkpoint. It was around lunch time and Chianelli knew hunters would be coming out of the woods heading back. He hoped someone had shot something so I could get some really cool photos. About eight or so rigs passed us by, not a single animal shot. Checkpoints are set up by wardens to make sure everyone is doing the right thing.

“Most guys I check are doing the right thing and they aren’t worried when I asked for the licenses or tags,” Chianelli said. “You can usually tell who might not be doing the right thing by how their car drives down the road.”

Chianelli would watch drivers from his truck to see how they would react to the signage, but not a single problem occurred. Bored with the location, we decided to climb up to see if anyone else was on the hill. We past a few vehicles but not much activity and about two-thirds the way up Chianelli’s phone beeped. Surprised by having cell service, he listened to his voicemail. A potential poach! This could be a huge case potentially.

We traveled down the desolate road passing only one car the rest of the way. We pulled off onto a paved road with signs and lines, the whole nine yards. We then traveled a few miles ahead and turned off on another desolate, unpaved road in what had to be the middle-of-no-where, Montana. The owner directed us to the location of what he thought might have been poaching.

Chianelli began his investigative work. He pulled a yellow box from his truck with gloves and equipment. It was sort of like CSI meets Outdoor Channel. He photographed the area, filmed and made detailed record the incident. He bagged and tagged evidence that could be important later on in the investigation. I had never thought game wardens were like crime scene investigators.

Standing in the cold wind of an open field, we heard the whisk of a murder of Ravens above our heads. The thundering flaps of their wings enough to raise the hair on your neck as they flew past.

Chianelli finished collecting his evidence and cleaned himself up. By now it was nearing 4 p.m. We had done quite a bit in a short time but for Chianelli it was sort of the prototypical day.

“In a way it was sort of a typical day,” he said. “Typical day you get calls and follow up on them, you do some patrol, and you get more calls and follow up. You try to get out and run around. You are up and down in the mountains, on the ground, everywhere.”

There is no such thing as typical day. All calls are different for the warden. Chianelli loves how different each day can be.

“The best part of my job is that everyday is different,” he said. “I never know what to expect. Sort of like the stuff we had today.”

His travel days can be long. He could travel four or five hours to write tickets for hunting without permission or shooting in the right of way of the highway.

He spends a majority of time in his office and at home. He has one of the most beautiful offices I have ever seen.

“It’s a pretty nice view from my office, my truck is my office,” Chianelli said. “The mountains are my office.”

Chianelli may spend additional time on to work poaching cases. He writes out the details of the situation to present it to the prosecutor. It is necessary for him to have knowledge of law enforcement and hunting regulations. The case has to be solid to prove the violation.

“Working these cases, catching poachers, making sure people are doing the right thing are what makes my job worth it,” he said. “People support what we do. Hunters support what we do. We rely a lot on tips from other hunters who help point out these knuckleheads poaching.”

After awhile of driving, we arrived back in Thompson Falls at the checkpoint. It was around 5:30 or so. Finally, I got to see my first dead animal of the season. An elk in the back of a pickup truck pulls up to check in. A beautiful bull about two and half years old lying in the back, dead as a doornail, and a happy hunter eager to share his story of the kill.

The day was long, and at times not a lot of action, but fun. I learned a lot about what the Game Warden does. He is an important member of Fish and Wildlife. Hunters trust him and he relies on them as much as they do him to keep people wrong doers away making sure they are punished. I never expected I would be at a poaching site, let alone looking for hunters along the roadside in western Montana.