The Uneven Road to Wildlife Safety: A Tale of Two Crossings
Wyoming’s highways are more than just routes for travelers—they’re battlegrounds where wildlife and vehicles collide, often with tragic results. Two major wildlife crossing projects, one near Kemmerer and the other near Dubois, are currently shaping the state’s efforts to mitigate these conflicts. But their fates couldn’t be more different. One is surging ahead, while the other remains mired in funding limbo. What does this disparity tell us about conservation priorities, federal funding, and the broader challenges of protecting wildlife in the 21st century?
Kemmerer’s Triumph: A Model for Efficiency?
The $30 million wildlife crossing project near Kemmerer is a rare success story in the world of infrastructure. Initially slated for completion in late 2028, it’s now on track to finish by October 31, 2027—a full year ahead of schedule. This project, which includes seven underpasses, an overpass, and 63 miles of deer fencing, aims to protect mule deer, elk, and pronghorn along a 30-mile stretch of U.S. Highway 189.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how it contrasts with the typical narrative of government projects plagued by delays and cost overruns. Personally, I think this success is a testament to strong local and state collaboration, as well as a clear understanding of the project’s urgency. The Wyoming Range mule deer herd, a prized asset for hunters and a symbol of the state’s natural heritage, relies on this migration route. Saving these animals isn’t just about conservation—it’s about preserving Wyoming’s identity.
But here’s the kicker: while Kemmerer’s project is a win, it’s also a reminder of how much work remains. The highway still claims an average of 80 deer annually, a number that’s likely underreported. If you take a step back and think about it, this project is just one piece of a much larger puzzle. Wildlife crossings are essential, but they’re reactive solutions to a problem created by human infrastructure.
Dubois’s Dilemma: When Funding Fails Wildlife
Meanwhile, the $28 million Dubois project—which would include three underpasses and an overpass along a 25-mile stretch of Highway 26/287—remains stuck in neutral. Despite raising $2.6 million in private donations and securing some state funding, the project is missing a critical $16 million in federal grants. Without this money, construction can’t begin, and the hundreds of mule deer killed annually on this stretch of road will continue to pay the price.
One thing that immediately stands out is the irony of this situation. Wyoming’s economy relies heavily on tourism, much of which is driven by its wildlife. Yet, federal grant managers seem to be missing the connection between protecting animals and protecting livelihoods. As retired wildlife biologist Walt Gasson aptly put it, this isn’t a ‘feel good’ project—it’s an economic imperative. Dubois’s claim to fame is its wild places and the creatures that inhabit them. Lose that, and you lose a significant chunk of the town’s revenue.
What many people don’t realize is that wildlife crossings aren’t just about saving animals; they’re about saving lives. Gasson’s personal anecdotes about near-misses with deer highlight the human safety aspect of this issue. In my opinion, this should be a no-brainer for federal funders. But the reality is that wildlife projects often get lost in a crowded field of grant applications, competing with other priorities that may seem more urgent.
The Bigger Picture: A National Challenge
Wyoming’s struggles aren’t unique. Across the West, and indeed the entire country, wildlife crossings are in high demand. But funding is limited, and competition is fierce. This raises a deeper question: Are we doing enough to address the root causes of wildlife-vehicle collisions? Roads fragment habitats, disrupt migration routes, and create deadly barriers for animals. While crossings are a step in the right direction, they’re a Band-Aid solution to a systemic problem.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how this issue intersects with broader trends in conservation. As human populations grow and infrastructure expands, conflicts with wildlife will only increase. What this really suggests is that we need a paradigm shift—one that prioritizes coexistence over domination. Instead of building roads through habitats, why not design them to minimize impact? Instead of waiting for animals to die before taking action, why not proactively protect their migration routes?
The Human Element: Convincing the Purse Strings
At the heart of this issue is a communication gap. As Gasson pointed out, it’s hard to convince federal grant managers who may not understand Wyoming’s unique reliance on its wildlife economy. This isn’t just about saving deer; it’s about preserving a way of life. But how do you quantify that in a grant application? How do you make someone in Washington, D.C., feel the urgency of a problem thousands of miles away?
From my perspective, this is where storytelling comes in. Data and statistics are important, but they don’t evoke emotion. What does is the image of a dead deer on the side of the road, or the sound of a car colliding with an animal in the dead of night. These are the stories that stick with people, that make them care. If conservationists can bridge this emotional gap, they might just stand a chance at securing the funding they need.
Looking Ahead: What’s Next for Wyoming’s Wildlife?
The Kemmerer project’s success offers a glimmer of hope, but it’s also a reminder of how much work remains. The Dubois project’s fate hangs in the balance, a stark illustration of the challenges facing wildlife conservation in the modern era. Personally, I think the solution lies in a combination of local advocacy, creative funding strategies, and a national reevaluation of our relationship with wildlife.
If we’re serious about protecting animals and the ecosystems they inhabit, we need to think bigger. Wildlife crossings are a start, but they’re not enough. We need to redesign our infrastructure, rethink our priorities, and reimagine our role in the natural world. As Gasson said, the need for projects like Dubois should be ‘a blinding flash of the obvious.’ The question is: Are we ready to see it?
In the end, the story of these two crossings isn’t just about Wyoming—it’s about all of us. It’s a call to action, a reminder that the choices we make today will determine the world we leave behind. And if we’re not careful, that world might be a little less wild.
