Trina Jo Bradley squints down at a plate-sized paw print, pressed into a sheet of shallow snow. She reaches down with fingers outstretched, hovering her palm over a sun-softened edge. Her hand barely covers a third of the track. "That's a big old foot right there," she says, with a chuckle. "That's the one where you don't want to be like: 'Oh! There he is right there!" Bradley, like many ranchers, applies a wry sense of humor to things that feel out of her control. Growing up here on the Rocky Mountain Front, where prairie meets mountain, she rarely saw grizzlies. Now, she sees them all of the time. Some nights, her family watches the massive carnivores lumber by outside their living room window. Bradley says they're majestic. "As long as they mind their own business and stay out of my cows, I could really care less if they're here," she says. "I enjoy having them here and I think most ranchers do." Like most ranchers, Bradley and her husband have been largely accommodating of grizzly
↧