Bramblings: Woodchucking

Becky Nelson
Bramblings
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? We were having a lot of fun with the grandkids playing with tongue twisters recently, and this old one most certainly came up in the challenge. I was reminded of the fun and frivolity when a young woodchuck came right up on the lawn under my front room window the other day as I was chilling by the air conditioner on a hot and muggy afternoon.

I was surprised at the boldness of the little fellow. He rose above the (too tall lawn) grass some twenty feet away like a prarie dog, looking around for threats. He then made his way toward the window, eating long leaves of a dandelion, then testing some luscious looking clover as he came near the house. He didn’t flinch as I moved from one window to another to take a better photo, and looked at me for a moment before moving along, sampling the goodies the lawn provided.

I have a love-hate relationship with woodchucks, or as some call them, groundhogs. They plague our gardens, and we are constantly trying to keep them out of the plots of vegetables we are trying to raise. I am currently midway in the process of adding chicken wire inside one of our high tunnels, as one of my young neighbors presumed relatives has been hopping the wooden frame of the open tunnel and munching down cucumber plants. I am afraid that as soon as I get the wire protection installed, it will outsmart me again and dig a tunnel under the frame, chew through the plastic mesh floor and have at it once again, munching its way through my profits.

Smoke bombs into the entrance, waiting for a critter to come out of the hole and dispatching with a gunshot, training a farm dog to be a woodchuck hunter…we have used all of these elimination strategies over the decades here at the farm. They are insidious pests, and there is a constant battle. It was kind of fun to see my woodchuck up close and take a photo shot or two of it, but now I am in for some woodchuck chucking.

Our little marmot friend is on my hunt list. We have somewhat limited success in trapping chucks in our have-a-heart trap and moving them far away from the gardens and into a less populated hayfield somewhere, but we are not sure they don’t make their way back. I was interested to find out that the etymology of the very name for the marmot, “woodchuck” has nothing to do with wood or chucking, but everything to do with the native American Algonquin name for the creature, “wuchak” which means “digger.” And dig they do. Their tunnel entrances with nice earthen mounds from which they can survey their territory and scurry underground to escape any predator are a menace when you are walking, driving or riding a horse in a field or open woodland space. More than once I have stepped into a woodchuck hole while haying in an ankle-twisting accident, and we have damaged haying equipment by catching a tire or a tine in a woodchuck hole.

I was interested to learn that woodchuck’s burrows are up to 16” wide and 14” tall and may harbor multiple woodchucks with a bunch of larger chambers constructed for sleeping, mating and nesting and may be up to 48 feet long and up to four feet deep. Their burrows usually have two holes…an entrance and a spy hole. They are pretty incredible animals, but they are a nuisance at a farm or near a garden. Their dens are often used by others when abandoned, including their predator the red fox.

I’m not thrilled to have this new neighbor, as I have a lovely little plot of giant pumpkins just a few feet from the edge of my lawn, and my marmot friend might find those pumpkins very tasty. A neighborhood fox is welcome to move into its burrow anytime. I may just hang out a “for rent” sign soon.