International Wolf Center
I stayed a third night at the Cross-River Wayside Rest Stop, in Schroeder, MN. I was alone again, and it was very quiet. In fact, if you opened the door you could hear the water rushing down the falls. It was a perfect spot to rest with clean restrooms, and a bakery coffee shop across the street. I got a sense of the daily routine of the area, as I noticed the same trucks stopping for coffee in the morning. I planned my trip to the International Wolf Center, and I had a Harvest Host location to stay at in the evening.
Blue Sky!!!
For once there were blue skies and puffy white clouds in the distance. For the moment the sky seemed free of smoke from the fires west and north.
I traveled to the International Wolf Center in Ely, Minnesota. The Center was started as a traveling exhibit called Wolves and Humans in the mid-80s, created by wolf biologist Dr. L. David Mech. It was such a hit that they built a permanent 17,000-square-foot facility in 1993, with a 1.25-acre wooded enclosure, two dens, and a pond for the ambassador wolves—usually about four at a time, with new pups every few years. They run all kinds of programs: howling trips, snowshoe treks, radio tracking, kids’ exhibits, and even online learning. Their charter is simple—give people solid, science-based information about wolves and let them decide how they feel about them.
When I arrived they told me a presentation had just started. It was about 45 minutes long and presented by one of the handlers on wolf conservation, which broke a lot of common assumptions right out of the gate. She also covered how wolves hunt. Wolves don’t just chase whatever runs—they assess, plan, and execute as a team. They’ll watch for weakness in a herd, move to isolate a target, and then coordinate the final approach using both vocal and silent cues. It’s methodical, not chaotic. The presentation was held in an open hall looking out towards the wolves they care for. The talk was very professional and engaging.
I then headed into the theater to watch the movie. It covered wolf history, behavior, and their role in the ecosystem in a straightforward way—no hype, just facts and visuals that connected the dots. It set the stage nicely for everything else I was going to see in the exhibitions.
The “Discover Wolves!” gallery is laid out so you move through different aspects of wolf life step by step. One of the first things I saw was a large panoramic display showing where wolves live across North America, paired with maps that light up as you select one of the two wolf subspecies (grey or red). Just around the corner, there’s a mock airplane cockpit where you can “fly” a tracking mission over a snowy landscape, simulating how researchers monitor wolf movements from the air.
From there, I stopped at the field exam station, where tools like radio collars, measuring devices, and sample kits are displayed to show what researchers use in the field. The “Little Wolf Den” was next—a crawl-through area that follows a pup’s first year through all four seasons. It’s meant for kids, but I still ducked in and found it surprisingly detailed. Nearby, the “Wolves and Wild Lands” section compares Arctic wolves, Mexican wolves, and red wolves, with habitat recreations and details about each.
The most sobering moment came in the red wolf section. Before today, I didn’t even know they were still around. Learning there are only about 40 left in the wild, most in North Carolina, drove home the point that conservation isn’t just an idea—it’s urgent.
One wall is dedicated to cultural history, showing how wolves have been seen in myths, art, and folklore, alongside the reality of human-wolf interactions. A small theater area plays short documentaries on wolf behavior, conservation, and research—just enough to give context without overwhelming you. The last stop before the exit is the Wolf Den Store, which has books, educational materials, and wolf-themed items that support the center’s programs.
The observation area seemed small to me. It’s part of the auditorium. Only one wolf was visible today, sleeping near the viewing window. The staff said they’re usually not very active during the day, so it’s hit or miss whether you’ll see much movement. Apparrently there is a live feed of the enclosure from multiple angles, so you can still watch what’s going on even if the wolves are out of sight (I never saw it).
I wrapped up the day with the “Wolf 101” presentation. This one covered the basics: what makes up a wolf pack, how they communicate, and how they survive in the wild. One thing that stood out is that biologists no longer use the term “alpha.” Instead, they call them the “breeding pair” because packs are really family units, with the parents raising pups and older siblings helping out. They also talked about how territory size changes with prey availability and human activity, and how wolves use body language, howls, and scent marking to keep the pack connected.
By the end of the day, I felt like I’d gotten the complete picture. The International Wolf Center isn’t about romanticizing wolves or painting them as villains. It’s about presenting facts, letting you observe, and making sure you leave with a better understanding of how wolves fit into the bigger picture of the ecosystem. You walk out knowing they’re not just another wild animal—they’re an essential part of nature, and they’re worth protecting.
I drove around Ely for a bit, and one thing that caught my eye was the massive Superior National Forest office—the Kawishiwi Ranger District station, sitting right there along Highway 169. By the time I rolled past, it was already closed for the day—4 p.m., sharp—but it’s clearly the hub for managing this huge stretch of wilderness. Superior National Forest covers millions of acres, and this office handles everything from issuing Boundary Waters permits to coordinating forest management and sharing information with visitors.
Ely itself isn’t a big place with a little over 3,000 people. It is known as the Gateway to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. People come here year-round to paddle, hike, fish, and generally disappear into the kind of wild, quiet landscape you don’t find many other places. I drove through the small downtown area which had a certain charm. I discovered that in 2010, readers of Budget Travel voted it the “Coolest Small Town in America,”. I personally would say this was the coolest in America, but it does have some charm.
I drove about 30 minutes to my Harvest Host stop, a small, working farm tucked deep in the country. I got there around 6:30, the property framed by trees with sheep and a lone horse grazing in the pasture near the entrance. My host had told me she wouldn’t be home, but her grandson would be there to greet me. I waited a few minutes to see if anyone came out, then stepped out of the van. I knocked on a door—no answer. I wandered around, checking out the chickens and guineas, wondering what other animals they might have tucked away out back.
About an hour later, her grandson pulled in. He’s 17 and lives there with his grandmother. Her husband passed away last year, and hearing that brought back memories of when I was 16 and went to live with my grandfather after my grandmother died. He was a good kid—easy to talk to—and I invited him in to see the van. We spent the next hour chatting about his grandmother, who, as it turns out, has fostered 12 kids and raised Indigenous children, all while running the farm. She was away at a pow-wow that night. What struck me was how mature he was for his age—responsible, grounded, and working hard to help keep the place going. He spoke about her with real pride, saying he’d never leave the area or the farm.