One question we hear over and over again is: "Why did you leave the bustling, family-filled metropolis of Chicagoland to settle in the remote wilds of Northern Idaho, where you knew no one and nothing?" Well, grab a chair because we have a simple yet winding answer: Fate.
You see, my parents spent over three decades in Jackson Hole, Wyoming—a place where the mountains aren't just scenery; they're practically neighbors. We fell in love with the whole "mountain people" vibe, where you can watch wildlife from your front porch (yes, we’re talking moose, elk, and the occasional grizzly bear), and every errand feels like an expedition. We dreamed of retiring there: Steve, casting his fishing line into rivers that make other anglers weep with envy; me, searching for conservation projects like a wildlife-loving Indiana Jones. Then—cue dramatic music—the pandemic hit, and our Jackson Hole dream went up in smoke faster than a campfire at high altitude.
With a shattered dream and a lot of time on our hands, we started casting our net a little wider. We wanted mountains, affordable land, and room for my conservation ambitions. After some online sleuthing, we honed in on Northern Idaho—a place where the fishing is fantastic, the cost of living is almost reasonable, and the wilderness practically begs for stewardship. So, with bags packed (and a bit of trepidation), we left our Chicago friends and family (the most challenging thing we have ever done) behind and set out for what we now call "our own private Idaho." Yes, that was a pun, and yes, we’ve been saying it non-stop ever since.
Looking back, the last two years have been a bit of a whirlwind. Moving to a place where “local” means everyone within a 50-mile radius and “traffic” is two cars ahead of you at a stop sign has been nothing short of an adventure. But the real excitement began once we planted our roots—and I mean that literally—on our 10-acre plot of land, which is now home to High Road Wildlife Sanctuary and Pollinator Preserve.
As a lifelong lover of wildlife, being an active conservationist has always been a dream of mine, and now—thanks to a bit of luck and a lot of elbow grease—we’ve got a chunk of land surrounded by thousands of acres of public wilderness. It’s a dream come true, but also, as we quickly learned, a lot of work. Our first surprise? Forest Stand Improvement Grant. Sounds important, right? It turns out it’s not exactly what I envisioned when I applied to the USDA—"wildlife conservation," you say? Nope. This was all about making the forest healthier and reducing the risk of crown fires. But hey, any improvement is a step in the right direction… even if it involves removing trees. Cue my inner tree-hugger gasping for air.
You might think 10 acres is a manageable size to handle on our own. And, in theory, it is. But let me tell you, when you’re standing in the middle of a dark, dense, old-growth forest, it feels like you’re at the edge of a vast wilderness that never ends. Our first task? Thin the trees, let in the light, and create a safe space for wildlife in case a fire ever threatens. In fact, we learned that what I thought would be a conservation project—lush, untouched forests full of life—required logging. Say it with me: logging and mulching! But here’s the thing, folks: It’s all part of the greater plan to create a safe corridor for migrating animals and reduce fire risk. I know, it was a shock to my idealistic forest-loving heart. But the more we learned, the more we realized that conservation sometimes does mean a little chainsaw work.
Now, here we are, a year into this adventure, and we’ve made some significant progress. Phase 1 of the High Road Wildlife Sanctuary is complete! (Cue the celebratory music.) We’ve installed owl, bird, and bat houses—finally putting all those little wooden homes that were collecting dust in the garage to good use. We’ve planted native plants, like milkweed, to attract pollinators and help support the local bee and butterfly populations. And, perhaps most exciting of all, we’ve set up trail cameras to monitor our efforts and see how the wildlife is reacting to the changes we’ve made. So far, it’s been nothing short of magical. We’ve seen deer, turkeys, moose, bears, and even a mountain lion who decided to make an appearance on our camera just to remind us that we’re definitely not in Chicago anymore.
Looking ahead to 2025, we're not slowing down. We’re planning to add an understory of native bushes and plants to further attract birds, bees, and other small creatures. It’s all about creating a thriving, biodiverse environment—and we’re excited to see where this project takes us. Will we end up with a wildlife utopia? Who knows. But if it’s anything like the journey so far, it’s bound to be a thrilling ride.
So, if you’re looking for a bit of inspiration (or just want to live vicariously through our forest adventures), consider this your invitation to follow along. Who knows what’s around the corner—or, more accurately, behind the next tree. The wildlife certainly knows, and we’re doing our best to keep up.
Stay tuned for the next chapter in Phase II of High Road Wildlife Sanctuary, where there will be more trees, more critters, and—hopefully—less chainsaw.
Happy trails (and sightings of mysterious animals),
Kasey Mueller
Founding Keeper of High Road Wildlife Preserve
Lady Aurora visits High Road Wildlife
So excited to install the owl boxes
Premium Bat Condo living
The results of the logging and mulching give light and space for a new generation of trees
Steve filled the first owl house with some cushy shavings to give the owls a nesting head start.
Leaving piles of old wood, stumps, and hollow logs provides hiding and homes for smaller creatures, and insects.
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