Daily Darwin

Remember, it's not mandatory to close the back door after loading up in a moving van. It's only suggestion....

Darwin 4 29 24

Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>Daily Darwin: Monday, April 29, 2024 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Daily Darwin: Monday, April 29, 2024

 Remember, it's not mandatory to close the back door after loading up in a moving van. It's only suggestion....

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's managing editor, Greg Johnson.

Greg Johnson

Crime & Courts

Public Safety

CHEYENNE — The fire was so intense, Paul and Alexandra Trujillo said it felt like they were standing in front of a blazing campfire.

They were instead in Paul’s truck on Del Range Boulevard just behind Sam’s Club in north Cheyenne watching from the road as a huge apartment complex under construction burned Tuesday afternoon.

In the next 15-20 minutes, Paul and his daughter were mesmerized by the intensity and ferocity of a fire that consumed the building, a garage next to it and sparked a grass fire.

“We literally watched it from the beginning,” Paul told Cowboy State Daily. “It was 15-20 minutes from start to collapse. It spread to the garage in between the two buildings, and it also started a grass fire.

[{"type":"text","text":"“That whole area, just stay away.”"}]

Paul said the in-progress apartment building is in the Ridgeview Apartments located at 2025 E. Carlson St. just off Converse Avenue between Sam’s Club to the south and Storey Boulevard to the north.

While he saw a window open from the inside in the apartment building next to the one that burned, Paul wasn’t sure if it was finished and occupied yet.

What he was sure about is that the fire burned incredibly fast and incredibly hot.

“Oh my gosh, we were back by Sam’s Club and you could feel the heat like you were standing in front of a campfire,” he said.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"A Window Opens"}]

“I was worried, because there are two sets of apartments there that they’re building,” Paul added. “We did see a window open, and when you see a window opening and that fire’s going on, I was worried somebody might be in there.”

He didn’t see anyone come out, “But we did hear some explosions coming from the building,” Paul said. “And the first thing we saw was the (construction) crews running around with their yellow vests on.”

Paul said he and Alexandra watched as firefighting crews started to arrive and search for fire hydrants to hook up to. But from what he saw, he didn’t observe any hydrants and watched as they fought with water from a ladder truck and a couple of pumper trucks.

Because the fire had spread so quickly throughout the unfinished building, it appeared firefighters were concentrating on nearby structures to keep the fire from spreading, Paul said.

“They were just trying to keep the fire from spreading, because that building was a total loss,” he said. “They were putting water on the other unit, and the garage, but the garage burned anyway.

[{"type":"text","text":"“I couldn’t believe how fast it spread.”"}]

Along with a heavy response from Cheyenne Fire Rescue and other agencies, the Tuesday afternoon fire also wreaked havoc with traffic in Wyoming’s capital city.

Cheyenne police and Laramie County Sheriff’s Office deputies directed traffic away from the area of the fire response, which also is one of the busiest sections of the city. That caused massive traffic backups around the Frontier Mall south to Pershing Boulevard.

“Road closures are in place … please avoid the area while crews work to contain the fire,” the Cheyenne Police Department in advised a statement about the response. The agency later added that the roads had reopened.

The firefighting effort was still ongoing at the time this story was published.

This is a developing story and will be updated as more information is available.

Cheyenne fire 5 26 26

<title>"Total Loss": Witness Says Fire Ripped Through Cheyenne Apartment Building In Minutes | Cowboy State Daily</title>

A fire tore through an under-construction apartment in north Cheyenne on Tuesday, burning so hot and intense it was “a total loss” in minutes, a witness said. “You could feel the heat like you were standing in front of a campfire,” he said.

"Total Loss": Witness Says Fire Ripped Through Cheyenne Apartment Building In Minutes

Leah Veress

Outdoors

[{"type":"text","text":"“Leah, get up. The horses got out.”"}]

I burrowed my head deeper into my sleeping bag against the cold, feigning sleep. Outside my synthetic-filled cocoon, my tentmate was shuffling around, unzipping her sleeping bag.

In the distance, a creek was roaring, and horses were whinnying, and dull bells were ringing.

“You put the bells on the mares,” Matt, a contractor who grew up locally, explained to me the previous day. “They’re the trouble makers. If they get out, the rest will follow.”

[{"type":"text","text":"Like a queen bee, I had thought."}]

Suddenly, I was fully awake. Shit, the horses got out! Deep in the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness, dozens of miles from the nearest road, two days into a five-day trip, the horses and mules were our only way to pack out our camp.

I threw open my sleeping bag, pulled on my jeans, grabbed my headlamp and bear spray, and crawled out of the tent.

Despite the darkness, camp was alive with motion. Tent doors flew open, riding clothes were thrown over sleepwear, and saddles were slung on the remaining horses. I clicked my headlamp to the highest setting, blinking hard to adjust my eyes to the low light and shake the sleep from my mind.

Two horses and two mules came into view, tethered to trees by their lead ropes. That left eight animals missing. Lights scanned like spotlights as horses whinnied and the mules brayed, casting an eerie, wail-like sound into the darkness.

As Matt and Antonio, a seasonal outdoors worker, mounted their horses to track the escaped equestrians, the outfitter turned to me.

[{"type":"text","text":"“Stay here and watch the animals in case any trouble comes.”"}]

Two days earlier, our posse of five mules, seven horses, an outfitter, two contractors, a nurse, an outdoorsman, and a reporter embarked on an extended weekend pack trip.

New to horseback riding, having taken a multi-year hiatus from the backcountry, and largely unfamiliar with my companions, I was immediately overwhelmed with a deep appreciation for their company, keen to learn as much as I could.

Most members of the group had worked for the outfitter at one point, spending a summer taking dude rides or a fall guiding hunts in the Absaroka-Beartooth. Cumulatively, they had more than a century of experience. With no dudes on this particular trip, they were afforded a unique opportunity to let loose, exchanging banter and stories freely.

Food packed into Yeti coolers and Milwaukee Packouts, tents and personal items loaded onto mules, horses saddled, bridled, and ready to go, we set out on the 20-mile ride into camp around 11 a.m., three hours after our target departure time.

“I hope you all brought headlamps,” Hazel, a life-long outdoorswoman and practicing nurse, joked.

As the miles wore on, I got to know Cherokee, the 10-year-old paint I was riding.

The cadence of her stride set the pace of my day. As we passed lakes and paralleled streams, the reflection of the sunlight glimmered with every step she took.

I watched as her ears twitched and tail swooshed, shooing away early-season mosquitoes. I noticed the way her sides flared out as we rode up ridges, and the snorts she released to clear the dry, dusty air from her nostrils.

I sneezed in tandem. I learned to anticipate the way she leapt over streams, favoring dry land for the muddy trail most of the other animals trudged through.

As we rode in, the outfitter narrated, sharing personal and historical anecdotes about the route. He had been riding in these mountains twice as long as I had been alive. His stories chronicled the time Teddy Roosevelt spent in the wilderness, the history of resource extraction in the area, and childhood stories that echoed with the ring of universal human experience.

He led a string of five mules with one hand, and the reins of his paint gelding Cabaret and a Coors Banquet in the other. Every time the string would stall, he’d kick up Cabaret.

“I’m not even upset about the mules stopping,” he said. “I’m just pissed it’s spilling my beer.”

Packed in the panniers were three boxes of wine, and two 30-packs of Coors.

Matt rode ahead of the group, scouting the path where the trail fell out. When my borrowed Stetson hat blew off my head for the umpteenth time, and I started rolling my saddle getting back on after retrieving it, he looped back, ensuring everything was OK. He rode this way the whole trip, scouting and keeping everyone together, offering me horsemanship tips over the five days.

By the time we arrived at camp, nestled between a mountain ridge and a swollen creek, the sun had started to descend, and the air temperature fell.

As we dismounted and started to untack the stock, the outfitter walked over to me, his back bent permanently 10 degrees forward from a lifetime of riding, and showed me how to take off the bridal, the cinch, and the breast collar, hands on autopilot from decades of repetition.

“Always unbuckle from the left,” he said, looping and tying the cinch strap like a necktie. “And put your saddle blanket upside down on top of the saddle so it can air out.”

I nodded, making mental notes I later translated to my journal. In this same way, I learned how to tie the quick-release knot necessary to tether her lead rope to a tree (always at neck height or higher), and how to bridle and saddle Cherokee.

Any time I faltered, someone was there to help, offering demonstrations and heuristics.

Once the horses were brushed, untacked, and put to pasture behind an electric fence, camp was erected, illuminated by our headlamps.

Orange, yellow, and green tents stood in the conifer forest like presents under a Christmas tree, packed close enough together to provide perceived protection in grizzly country, but spread apart far enough to create a semblance of privacy.

By the time I crawled into my sleeping bag, the day had stretched over 18 hours. Stomach full of chili reheated over a camp fire, legs and back sore from riding, and my heart happy to be in the backcountry with good company, I drifted off to sleep.

Over the next three days, we cooked all of our meals over an open fire: Corn, potatoes, steak, eggs, hot dogs, pasta, Jiffy Pop. Blue and white enamel cookware was charred black by the soot and washed with murky water retrieved from the creek.

By day three, we had built a second ring. One for talking around, one for cooking over.

[{"type":"text","text":"“Less pressure on the chefs,” the outfitter said."}]

Stumps, cut from felled trees with hatchets, rocks, and a single REI pop-up chair surrounded the talking ring, each a chamber for smoke roulette.

As conversation drifted from shared memories to political beliefs and everything in between, laughter permeated the air, infectious and heavy. Hours passed this way, with the campfire burning steadily, fueled by a seemingly never-ending pile of deadfall, blanketing our dust-covered clothes in a comforting aroma of smoke.

As the week lumbered on, we trekked to nearby lakes, waterfalls, and ridgelines, riding single file, weaving through the landscape like a condensed centipede.

With no cell service and limited charging opportunities, our phones transformed from universal tools into cameras and jukeboxes. Temporarily entirely relieved of the worries and responsibilities a tower connection carried, I contentedly diverted my attention to the people, animals, and space immediately around me.

As we explored the mountains, valleys, meadows, and waterways, I found myself overwhelmed by gratitude. Gratitude for the head on my shoulders and the earth beneath my feet. Gratitude for the people around me, their humor, banter, and willingness to share their wilderness experience and expertise with me.

On day three, we rode to an alpine lake, dipping into willow-blanketed meadows full of bear claw-marked trees, before climbing to snow-covered lodgepole stands. For lunch, we ate sandwiches: PB&J, bologna, turkey, Velveeta, and drank filtered river water.

I watched as Larry, who had moved to Montana from New Hampshire a decade ago and never looked back, and the outfitter fished for cutthroat, one brandishing a spin rod and the other a fly rod.

“I’ve caught eight,” Larry touted, less than a minute after hitting the water.

“That’s OK, pal,” the outfitter called back, holding his spin rod. “One of these days we’ll teach you to count.”

As they fished, Hazel and Antonio read, lazily sprawling out on dried grass.

“I hope there aren’t ticks up here,” Hazel said, resting her book on her lap, pages spread, spine up.

[{"type":"text","text":"“Don’t say that word,” said Antonio, half-joking."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"“Tick, tick, tick,” she taunted."}]

I laughed and rested my back against a felled tree, settling my weight into the dirt below. As ants crawled up my arms, I watched them, making no motion to swat them away. I pulled open my journal and started to sketch the lake.

My pen traced the contours of the landscape, filling the page with ink. I reveled in the warmth the unobscured sunshine cast on my face. Closing the book, I tilted my face upward, and drifted off to sleep.

Despite cold evening temperatures, late nights, and early mornings, the trip brought some of the best rest I had experienced in months. Between being lulled to sleep by the steady roaring of the creek, eating hearty, fire-cooked meals, drinking fresh water, and filling fleeting moments with laughter, this experience felt like a turning point.

[{"type":"text","text":"Exactly the direction I was pivoting toward, I still don’t know."}]

Before this trip, I had spent fewer than 10 cumulative hours on horseback. It had been years since I had been in the backcountry, and even longer since I had felt this level of adoration for the wilderness. Here, I was surrounded by people who made the outdoors their life, and stock that knew these mountains like the back of their hooves.

In this company, in a camp surrounded by sage, pines, glacier lilies, shooting stars, bears, deer, bison and wolves, I found comfort. It was their confidence, good nature, and competence in the backcountry that kept me calm as I stood watch in camp after the horses broke down the electric fence and disappeared into the night.

Nestled next to a Douglas fir tree, keeping a careful eye on the four remaining animals, I watched as the sky slowly turned forget-me-not-blue against the gray mountain ridges and valleys.

Beside me, I heard a snap. I jerked my head up, my headlamp catching the eyeshine of Wrangler, a 12-year-old bay quarterhorse. As her head lurched toward me, I groped at the air, missing her lead. She beelined down the trail, and across the creek, following the other escapees to a meadow that lay beyond.

[{"type":"text","text":"The outfitter’s words echoed in my head."}]

Resigned to my watchpost, I waited. The symphony of chaos continued around me, swirling like a storm cloud. Horses and mules snorted, pawing the ground anxiously as the creek our camp shouldered roared, angry and swollen with spring rainfall and runoff.

Slowly, color returned to the earth as first light careened down the ridgeline into camp. As I flicked off my headlamp, the faint ring of bells returned, followed by the clomping of hooves against dirt and rock.

[{"type":"text","text":"“We got ‘em,” said Matt, leading a string of mules."}]

I checked my watch. 5:36 a.m. Just like that, it was all over, less than 40 minutes after it began.

“We should let them loose to graze,” the outfitter joked, signifying that the danger had passed.

For the remainder of the trip, the livestock were tied up at night. In this way, I learned that horses sleep standing up.

“If they’re confident they’re safe, they’ll sleep lying down,” Larry told me. “They’re prey animals, and they always want to be ready to run.”

He kept his horses in a corral on his property. He said it took them months to feel comfortable enough to sleep laying down.

By the time we rode out on the final day, the coolers and packouts were lighter. Clothes were saturated with dust, grease and smoke. Animals were well-grazed on native grasses that blanketed the meadow serving as their temporary pasture.

Anticipation for the trip’s commencement rested heavy on everyone’s chests.

The ride out took more than 10 hours, culminating in a steep climb back to the outfitters. Tired, sweaty, and hungry, we untacked the animals, moved them to the corral, unpacked the mules, loaded our cars, hugged goodbye, and dispersed, like ashes in a campfire pit.

[{"type":"text","text":"The names of the horses have been changed to protect their identity."}]

Horses 1 5 26 26

<title>'Tonight The Horses Sleep Standing Up': Lessons From Five Nights In The Absaroka-Beartooth… | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Suddenly, I was fully awake. The horses got out! Deep in the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness, dozens of miles from the nearest road, two days into a five-day trip, the horses and mules were our only way to pack out our camp.

'Tonight The Horses Sleep Standing Up': Lessons From Five Nights In The Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily reporter, Dale Killingbeck

Dale Killingbeck

Courts

CASPER — A 37-year-old Casper woman who police say 

 to create the appearance of abuse, then stabbed her husband in the neck, pleaded not guilty in Natrona County District Court on Tuesday.

Tabatha Richardson appeared beside her attorney Dylan Rosalez in a white top and black slacks, free on a $30,000 cash or surety bond. Judge Kerri Johnson read Richardson the single charge of aggravated assault and battery she faces.

Johnson asked her if she had read the police affidavit outlining her alleged actions, and understood the charge and potential 10-year prison sentence and $10,000 fine that she faces.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"“Yes, your honor,” she said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"The judge asked her how she would plead."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"“Not guilty,” she said."}]

Rosalez asked the judge to continue her bond, who agreed and said the issue would be set for trial.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"His Account"}]

Court records show that Natrona County Sheriff’s deputies were called by both Richardson and her then-husband to a residence in the 3300 block of Allendale in Casper on Dec. 9. 2025, for a reported stabbing. 

Richardson told deputies it happened while protecting herself from physical abuse by her husband.

Richardson told the 911 dispatcher that her husband “was on the couch and I just walked by him and he started attacking me,” according to an affidavit of probable cause filed in her case.

In Richardson's husband’s 911 call, he reported that he had just been stabbed in the neck without provocation and that he was afraid for the safety of his children.

Interviews with both Richardson and her husband were conducted at Banner Wyoming Medical Center where they sought treatment, the affidavit states.

Sheriff’s Investigator Cory Brooks wrote that Richardson stated in an interview that her husband punched her in the ribs and scratched her while she held her son in her right arm. 

She said she pulled a lock-blade folding knife from her bra with her left hand and pushed the button to make the blade flip out.

She then allegedly stabbed her husband on the right side of his neck to get him off her, the affidavit says. She told Brooks that he then stood up, grabbed his neck and left the residence.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Neck Pain"}]

The husband told Brooks that he and Richardson were going through a divorce and he was there to visit with his children. 

He had made a bottle for his son and held him while feeding him, the affidavit says.

After his son was full, he placed the bottle to the side and was holding him to get him to go to sleep when he heard Richardson make a remark and then he felt something on the right side of his neck.

“(The husband) felt his neck with his hand and saw that there was blood on his hand,” Brooks wrote. 

The husband told the investigator he laid his son on the couch and that Richardson stabbed at him again and missed.

He told Brooks that he left the house, went to his pickup, and called 911. Once law enforcement arrived, he was transported to the hospital.

Both husband and wife agreed to provide police with digital downloads of their phones.

Deputies obtained a warrant to search the house, and an investigation of the home found baby clothes, a blanket with blood stains and a black folding knife with a stain on the blade. 

The husband also told police that security cameras were on the exterior of the home.

The affidavit says that a search of Richardson’s phone found she had sent “a lengthy string” of messages to herself about women who had been physically abused and had tagged social media articles and videos about how to testify in court about physical abuse.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Swinging Sledge"}]

Investigators also found a security camera from the home had been removed from the exterior and taken to a bedroom where Richardson and her daughter were in the room. 

About 2 1/2 hours before her husband arrived at the home, she was seen on camera with a small sledgehammer in her right hand. Her shadow was then seen swinging the sledgehammer hitting her back, shoulders, and left rib area, the affidavit states.

“It appeared on the video that the sledgehammer was swung with just enough force that it would leave a mark on a person,” the affidavit states. 

The video also showed a small blue-and-yellow concrete chisel sitting on the stand with the camera.

Richardson was asked to visit the sheriff’s office for photos of her injuries and investigators saw that the bruises were round and similar to the size of the sledgehammer, Brooks wrote.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Hammer For ‘Treatment’"}]

On Dec. 12, Richardson told Brooks that she hit herself with the sledgehammer because it was a treatment for a chronic condition for which she had been diagnosed and not to fake any injuries.

She also told the investigator she returned the sledgehammer and chisel to the garage to keep her husband from getting angry. She said he would get upset if his tools were out of place.

A search warrant for the garage found the sledgehammer on the floor of the garage “placed into a small space between a refrigerator and pieces of cardboard as if a person would try and conceal it,” Brooks wrote. 

The chisel could not initially be found, but after Richardson was asked about it and had moved a sleeping bag, the investigator found it underneath the sleeping bag.

During another interview on Dec. 12, Richardson admitted to hitting herself to protect herself and her children from her husband. She also confessed to scratching herself with the chisel.

The woman was asked to show how she stabbed her husband with just one hand using a knife that did not have a spring assist on it — but it was just a common lock blade knife, according to police records.

“Richardson repeated to investigators that she opened it with one hand by pushing the button, but demonstrated how to open the knife with two hands,” the affidavit states.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Custody Concerns"}]

Communication downloaded from Richardson’s phone showed concern that because of a medical condition she might lose custody of her children. 

She also believed her husband had started another relationship prior to his seeking a divorce.

The affidavit also says that a search warrant for medical records revealed that communication with her physician in November stated there was no physical abuse by her husband though she was worried about the divorce and losing her children.

In January, Richardson alleged that her husband had abused her for the past 18 years, the affidavit states.

A search of the husband’s phone found nothing to indicate he had been abusive to Richardson, the affidavit states.

Brooks wrote that his investigation learned that Richardson’s physician never recommended “hitting yourself with a sledgehammer” as treatment for her condition and specifically recommended a massage gun or massage hands.

Tabatha Richardson court 3 30 26

<title>Casper Woman Accused Of Hitting Herself With Hammer To Fake Abuse Pleads Not Guilty | Cowboy State Daily</title>

A Casper woman told police she hit herself with a sledgehammer to treat a medical condition, not to fake abuse from her husband. She pleaded not guilty Tuesday to allegations she stabbed him in the neck with a knife.

Casper Woman Accused Of Hitting Herself With Hammer To Fake Abuse Pleads Not Guilty

Heinz mark

Mark Heinz

Wildlife

When a hiker had an incredibly rare close encounter with a wolverine earlier this month in the Wind River Range mountains, he saw that the animal had a radio collar. Biologists have now confirmed it's one of four wolverines they’re tracking in the area.

They also say the wolverine is quite the traveler, having already established a range of about 200 square miles.

The wolverine that Zachary Shifrel photographed from 

 is a mature, 28-pound male, biologists Dean Clause and Rusty Kaiser told Cowboy State Daily.

Shifrel told Cowboy State Daily he saw the wolverine near the Green River Lakeside Trail in the Wind River Range mountains.

The encounter probably lasted less than a minute, he said. Shifrel had just enough time to snap a few photos and take a brief video of the wolverine before it ran off.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Mysterious Species"}]

The wolverine that Shifrel saw was first captured and fitted with a GPS transmitter collar in April 2025, then again in March, said Clause, the Wyoming Game and Fish Department Pinedale wildlife biologist; and Kaiser, the Forest Service Bridger-Teton east zone wildlife biologist.

Typical of the species, the wolverine is quite the traveler.

“During 2025, the documented range for this wolverine was about 200 square miles,” the biologists said in an email to Cowboy State Daily. "The 2026 data have not yet been analyzed."

Another male and two female wolverines have also been captured and collared in the Pinedale region, they said.

Game and Fish and the U.S. Forest Service are conducting joint research on wolverines in the Pinedale region to clear up some of the mystery around the species in Wyoming, because so much remains unknown, according to the biologists.

Tracking collar data and analysis of the animals’ scat could help determine the wolverines’ movements, demographics and diet.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"So, How Many Are There?"}]

Wyoming’s total wolverine population was previously estimated to be about 15.

But how many are out there still largely remains a mystery. Data collected from the four Pinedale region wolverines could help determine more accurate population models, the biologists said.

“At this time, there is no accurate estimate of wolverine numbers in Wyoming, although studies like ours should help to get better estimates in the future,” they stated in the email.

Wolverines have been documented in the Wind River Range since the 1960s. 

“A recent increase in wolverine observations” there might indicate that their numbers are growing, according to the biologists.

There are multi-state wolverine population surveys in the Rocky Mountain region about every five years. The next one is scheduled for the winter of 2026-2027.

The last time Game and Fish did a survey of wolverines was during the 

Using a grid system across prime habitat in western Wyoming’s remote and rugged mountain ranges, they placed monitoring sites with cameras in 51 “cells,” said Zack Walker, the nongame wildlife supervisor for the Wyoming Game and Fish Department.

Photos of wolverines were captured at 15 of those, Walker said.

That means Wyoming’s known wolverine population is “likely slightly more than 15,” Walker said. “In some cases, we determined that there was more than one individual animal that came into the same monitoring station.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Don’t Expect To See Them"}]

When it comes to eating, wolverines are opportunists and will scavenge and hunt.

The scat analysis for the four Pinedale region wolverines is ongoing, so it’s yet to be determined what their primary food sources are.

In general terms, it’s thought that wolverines probably scavenge more than they hunt for food, Clause and Kaiser stated.

Wyoming biologists say a wolverine that had a rare close-range encounter with a hiker in the Wind River Range mountains is the same animal they’ve been tracking for more than a year. And it has a huge range, being tracked over 200 square miles.

Daily Darwin: Monday, April 29, 2024

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