All language subtitles for National Parks USA.S01E03

It's the
start of a new year

in the world's first
national park.

The low light of dawn
is no obstacle for

an iconic showdown.

The white alpha female
of the Wapiti pack

is the oldest wolf
in Yellowstone.

She has traversed this
landscape for 11 years,

over twice as long as

the average wolf
in Yellowstone.

The alpha female knows
a full-grown bison

is no easy target.

Younger wolves
test their limits.

Leadership sometimes means

progressing with caution.

Home to the largest wild
bison herd in America,

Yellowstone has always
been a trailblazer,

the first of its kind.

Following their
wise matriarch,

the pack advances,

navigating around the bison herd

towards new prospects.

This is Yellowstone
National Park.

The majority of the
wolves make their way

beyond the bison
and join the pack.

But some subordinate wolves

can't resist the
thrill of the chase.

While the bison have
numbers on their side,

rather than put up with the
pestering of young wolves,

they move on.

As much as a grueling
season presents challenges,

it wasn't the freeze that
nearly exterminated bison

in North America.

Euro-American
westward expansion

brought the slaughter
of millions of bison

across the Great Plains.

At the low point,
less than two dozen

wild bison remained.

They managed to survive
in a secluded area

hidden deep in the
park's interior.

In Yellowstone, bison
made their comeback.

Today, around
6,000 roam free.

The herd finds a
natural heat source

where geysers
and hot springs

clear the ground of snow.

If the bison consume
too much here,

they risk ingesting
heavy metals

from the hydrothermal
surroundings.

The same features
tempting the herd

are responsible for
the very existence

of Yellowstone
National Park.

In the late 1800s,

westward expeditions entered
an otherworldly domain,

a place where Native Americans
had lived for over 10,000 years.

Before explorers returned
east with visual evidence,

they wrote of colorful pools

and water exploding
into the air.

The photos of William H. Jackson

and paintings
of Thomas Moran

proved that this magical
land was in fact real.

In 1872, convinced
that such spectacle

needed protection,

President Ulysses S. Grant
signed the world's

first national park
into existence.

The bison herd must still
brave a long winter ahead,

and they aren't the only
animals facing Yellowstone's

least forgiving season.

A lone coyote
follows the path

cleared of snow by its
oversized neighbors.

No threat to the bison,

the coyote may be
able to find food

along their trail.

But not today.

The mice and voles she's after

remain unseen and unheard.

The small canine
shifts her focus,

looking for other
signs of movement.

She resets her course
alongside the flow of

the Yellowstone River.

Just ahead, something
catches her eye.

A family of otters,
bounding through the snow.

The coyote would relish
an otter as a feast,

but the river
provides an escape

from the exposure of
the white canvas.

Water-repellent coats
are key to survival

in these icy waters.

The question is
whether or not the

coyote can follow.

River otters excel
at hunting here.

And the coyote?

Well, it turns out
she's no match for

this fierce group.

For the coyote, the
ice-cold current is

just another test.

In the park's
season of white,

the coyote has to
survive temperatures

plunging well below zero.

Flowing through the
frozen expanse,

the Yellowstone River
is a thoroughfare

and the best
chance of a meal,

beckoning animals
to follow its

meandering path north.

But in the distance,
something changes.

Through the ages, a
relentless force has

carved its own path.

The sound of rushing
water intensifies,

cueing the coyote
to head inland.

The Yellowstone River basin,

made of volcanic rock softens

and becomes less stable.

Elevation plummets,

and the smooth-sailing
river falls.

Rather than meet
the roaring water,

the coyote redirects
her route.

The call of ravens signals
a promising opportunity.

At last, hope for a meal.

Highly intelligent
ravens and coyotes

have something in common.

They are both
master scavengers.

But the presence of
the true architects

of this feast looms.

The coyote has to hurry.

The cold of
Yellowstone's winter

acts as a natural
refrigerator.

And the Wapiti wolves
return to their elk kill

over several days.

Even if her stomach
still growls,

the coyote must flee.

More compelling than
the kindred scavenger,

the ravens take note
of this entrance

and clear out.

Yellowstone has a long
and complex history

with its wolf population.

For decades, wolves were
absent from this landscape,

having been eradicated
by early park managers

who saw them as a threat.

But in the 1990s,
a bold decision

was made to
bring them back.

The reintroduction
made Yellowstone

one of the best
places in the world

to view and study wolves.

The Wapiti wolves
are keenly aware

that something is
missing from this scene.

The white alpha female
draws everyone's attention.

As the oldest wolf
in Yellowstone,

her pace slows.

But her presence still
intimidates some.

For her pack, the
arrival of the matriarch

overshadows the interest
in the elk carcass.

Yellowstone wolves have
shown that most often,

it is the breeding female
at the top of the pack.

Just as a dog joyfully
wags its tail

when seeing a
familiar face,

wild wolves exhibit the
same behavior when reunited.

The alpha holds her tail aloft,

marking her as the leader.

Meanwhile, one fearless,
lower-ranking wolf

defends the elk carcass.

The wolves of Yellowstone,
once vanished,

now returned,
embody a profound truth

about our relationship
with the natural world.

Humans have the
power to reshape

wildlife populations
and restore

ecological balance.

But among the wonders
of Yellowstone,

there are some
realms that predate

humanity itself.

Beneath these
boiling springs

lies a supervolcano with
enough stored energy

to power the world twice over.

Two enormous magma
chambers fuel the park's

surface phenomena.

The earth breathes
through geysers,

hot springs, funerals,
and mud pots.

There are over 10,000
hydrothermal features

in the park.

Among the expelled gases are

odorless carbon dioxide
and the distinct

rotten egg smell of
hydrogen sulfide.

But the visible steam
is made mostly of

harmless water vapor.

The history of
geological formations,

which span millions
of years, is vast.

Yellowstone's geysers
operate on timetables

full of mystery
and variability.

The most famous geyser on
earth achieved such notoriety

not because it's the
biggest or the hottest,

but because it's predictable.

For as long as
records have existed,

Old Faithful has erupted
at regular intervals.

But Yellowstone is
home to over half of

the world's geysers,
and among them,

the rate of eruption is as
diverse as it is dynamic.

Some may put on a show
every 90 minutes.

But in the Norris
Geyser Basin,

one giant slept for
50 years until,

finally, waking up.

Steamboat reigns as
the tallest active geyser

on the planet.

Its water soars higher than
the Statue of Liberty,

over 300 feet into the air.

Witnessing a major eruption
of the unpredictable Titan

is a rare and special event.

From a satellite view,

the park's geothermal
features are invisible.

The majority of Yellowstone's
2.2 million acres

lie in Wyoming,

with a sliver of land extending
into Montana to the north

and Idaho to the west.

While geysers and hot springs
hide at this vantage point,

the biggest story of
the biggest story of

To the southwest of
the park's border,

in the lowland,
free of snow,

is the scar of the
supervolcano's past.

In the last
16 million years,

the caldera has exploded
over a dozen times,

and as the North American
tectonic plate

moves over the hotspot,
each subsequent

eruption carves the
leading edge of a path.

When viewed as an
elevation map,

the trail of the supervolcano
marks its power,

meeting a river basin

to make the smiley
face of the west,

cutting right into the
heart of the Rockies,

a volcano powerful enough
to erase mountains.

Today's caldera lies
beneath Yellowstone Lake,

the largest high-elevation
lake in North America.

It spends the winter
in a deep freeze.

Only a few geothermal
hotspots near the shore

keep the ice and
snow at bay.

But eventually, the
seasons catch up.

As ice and snow melts,
the water table rises.

Across the park, the
landscape transforms.

From high alpine peaks,

millions of gallons
of melting water

succumb to gravity.

Once quiet rivers
unleash a newfound rush.

On the Yellowstone River,
spring's raging flood

meets one of the park's
most breathtaking spectacles,

the lower falls.

But these falls are more
than just a visual marvel.

They're a testament
to the relentless

force of water
and time.

Engineers of the Grand
Canyon of the Yellowstone.

During spring runoff,
the rush of rapids

poses a challenge.

Dangerous crossroads on
the way to new grazing grounds.

Where the smallest
family members

face the biggest risk.

The mother of the young
calf being swept downriver

breaks the current
with her body mass.

With help, the calf
crosses safely.

Together, they make
a successful passage

to greener pastures.

With the snow's retreat,

the wolves of Yellowstone
also roam more freely.

The reintroduction of
apex predators creates

a ripple effect.

Their presence helps control
elk and deer populations,

encouraging movement
and preventing overgrazing.

In turn, once-barren
areas flourish with

diverse vegetation,

stabilizing river banks and
further supporting a variety

of wildlife down
the food chain.

Springtime reveals the
new life thriving in

this restored ecosystem.

Bison calves, sometimes
called red dogs

for their rusty fur,

contrast their parents'
dark brown hues.

In these early
days of life,

the relationship between
mom and calf is vital.

Outside of mating season,

large males break
away from the herd,

leaving the protection
of the newly born

to the collective
group of matriarchs.

Even amid the large herd,

a mother bison can distinguish
her calf from the rest.

This bond ensures that
the calves are nurtured

and defended against
any potential threats.

Pronghorn antelope share
spring pastures with bison.

With big eyes and
excellent vision,

they can spot a
predator as far as

three miles away.

They also have speed
on their side.

As the pronghorn depart,
the wolves draw near.

Lacking the ability to swiftly
move the entire herd,

the bison become
even more cohesive.

The adults form a protective
ring around the calves,

their large bodies a
formidable barrier.

The line of defense
is difficult for

any wolf to cross.

As the pack moves on to
less guarded prospects,

the air shifts.

In Yellowstone, storms
can come on in an instant.

The unique volcanic-influenced
landscape channels

weather systems onto
Yellowstone's high plateau.

These downpours
play a crucial role

in the park's
ecological cycle.

The falling water replenishes
hydrothermal systems.

Spring has also awoken
one of Yellowstone's

fiercest inhabitants,

but she has lost up to
40% of her body weight

in winter hibernation.

And even in
relentless rain,

this sow must rebuild
her strength.

The bear's future
depends on it.

Thanks to a nose over
2,000 times more acute

than our own,

the world of a grizzly
is built of smell.

Their vision, however,
is less remarkable.

It's similar to ours.

And sheets of rain
can make objects in

the distance obscured.

This sow needs her
followers to keep up.

These cubs already
know the particular

smell of their mother,

and it helps them
to stay close.

Rain releases scents from
soil and vegetation,

which might aid
in foraging.

Gophers and other rodents
gather and store plants

in underground burrows.

As the sow digs, she
isn't targeting the

small herbivores.

Instead, mom teaches her
young to find cached food

and unearth root systems.

Much like bison
and wolves,

it wasn't long ago
that the fate of

the grizzly bear
in North America

hung in a
delicate balance.

By the 1950s, grizzlies
were nearly wiped out

from the contiguous
United States.

But here, thanks to
the expanse of protected lands,

grizzlies persisted,

a last stronghold
amidst widespread decline.

Saving some of the
world's most beloved animals

has become
Yellowstone's trademark.

Today, with over
700 grizzly bears

in the greater
Yellowstone ecosystem,

the biggest concerns
for a mother

are the threats of nature.

Boars in the same territory
pose a serious risk to cubs.

In the quest
for dominance,

male bears will kill
young grizzlies.

But the cubs still
have plenty of

carefree growing to do.

Their only fright,
a traveling raven.

As storms subside,

and with the nearest
boar on a distant peak...

...mom can let her
cubs nurse in safety.

Yellowstone offers
sanctuary at every scale,

from immense mountain ranges

to the smallest of nooks.

On the fringe
of the park,

one local resident
finds refuge

in a less
traditional setting.

An abandoned cabin has an
unexpected house guest.

This red fox is
on high alert,

but she isn't worried about
what's inside the cabin.

Her focus is on
what lies beneath.

She dug a makeshift den
below the old timbers,

and the home had to
be made big enough

for more than a few.

Seven kits means
many mouths to feed,

and right now, the
kits aren't much help.

Mom searches for
any voles or mice

taking up residence
near the cabin,

but she isn't the
only one on the hunt.

Never far away
in Yellowstone,

a clever raven hopes to
find some food scraps,

but mom refuses
to tolerate it.

The fox maintains vigilance,

fending off any
animals in competition

with her kits.

But the raven also
has the demands

of many to feed.

A symbol of wisdom
and adaptability,

the raven has long been
part of this landscape.

And much like the raven,

the history of the human
presence in Yellowstone

is deeply rooted and
rich with knowledge.

Dr. Shane Doyle is an
ethno-paleoarchaeologist

and storyteller.

His work in the National Park
reveals the depth

of the indigenous
connection to this place.

When
people visit Yellowstone,

they're driving
along the same paths

that native people
traversed for thousands

of years on foot
before horses.

These trails brought
us to some of the

most important places
in Yellowstone.

Obsidian Cliff is
a massive outcrop

of black volcanic glass.

It yields the sharpest
edge of any natural

substance on Earth,

ten times sharper
than a razor blade.

Archaeological sites
across the continent

contain arrowheads,
knives, axes, and awls

that were made from
Yellowstone obsidian.

It's as versatile
as it is beautiful.

You know, one of the
reasons why this

was so widely used
was not just because

there was so much of it,
but was also because

um, it was easy to find

because the river
goes right to it.

Every great trail has a
river running through it.

Yellowstone was a
cultural nexus of

trade and wonder,

and it maintains
that identity today.

150 years after the
founding of Yellowstone,

the indigenous people
of this special place

gathered to commemorate
their shared history

of this remarkable homeland.

Over 30 tribal nations
maintain strong connections

to sacred sites
within the park.

Yellowstone is beloved as
the world's first national park,

but the landscape was
not empty or unknown.

My nation, the
Apsáalooke, Crow,

know it as Awé Púawishe,
the Land of Steam.

Learning about the
ancient and contemporary

tribal connection
to Yellowstone

gives each of us a
greater sense of

place and perspective.

In warmer seasons,
Shane's tribe, the Crow,

would travel to what
is now known as

Yellowstone's
Lamar Valley.

They were drawn by the
plants and wildlife,

and most importantly,
the bison.

Mature bulls spend most
of their time alone.

Given their immense size,
they are less reliant on

the security of the herd.

But once a year, they
all make a journey,

coming together for
a show of strength.

At three months of age,

the calves are
now turning color.

By six months, they'll be
as dark as their parents.

Right now, they need
to stay out of the way

of the newly
arriving bulls.

The males bellow a low,
rumbling vocalization

to announce
their presence.

It's one of the
many warm-ups and

displays of dominance,

all leading to the
main event, the rut.

The losing bull finally
backs up in retreat

and bows his head
in deference.

The winner earns
the right to mate,

ensuring the success
of the future herd.

Each day in Yellowstone
sets the stage

for the changes
of tomorrow.

Persistence will help
a wily scavenger

find a meal.

Young explorers get to know
the diversity of their world,

while the oldest and wisest

lead with a tail held high.

The cover of an old
cabin is traded

for the camouflage
of tall grass.

Ancient underground forces
soar into clear view.

Yellowstone is even more
than a sanctuary for wildlife.

It is a stronghold
of biodiversity.

The world's first
national park,

is a testament to the
power of preservation,

and a reminder of
our responsibility

to safeguard these wild places

for generations to come.

Captioned by
Cotter Media Group.