Boars

The wild boar came to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park uninvited in the early 1920s. While its population remained small, the boar was not thought a menace. Since the 1960s however, it has become obvious that the boar constitutes an ecological disaster of great proportions. In feeding, the animals move together and root up the ground or a stream bed with unbelievable thoroughness.

After boars have tackled a stretch of trout stream, it looks as though a bulldozer had churned it up. Presumably they seek aquatic insects, salamanders, and even a few small fish. Salamanders are among the park’s chief biological treasures, so the boars have not endeared themselves to those who are responsible for managing wildlife here in the park.

Another biological prize in these mountains is the grass bald habitat. These energetic porkers were not slow to find balds a food source, ravenously digging for June beetle larvae. The grass bald survives only by the turf’s resistance to tree invasions, so the boar and its plowing threatens the existence of these unique, and as yet incompletely understood, grass balds that are both prizes and puzzles.

Over the years it has been suggested that diverse species are directly threatened by the expanding boar population. These include ground-nesting birds, yellow adder’s-tongue and other wildflowers, and possibly deer and bear.

Studies are underway to determine the extent of the boar’s damage, and hence the real threat they pose. But we have no good comparative figures on the populations of other species for the years before boars arrived. Despite this lack, it has not been difficult to brand the boar a villain. But to control them has not been so easy. In good years they thrive—and gobble up more park resources.

There is a food preference relationship between turkeys, deer, bear, and boars in their mutual dependence on annual acorn and hickory nut crops. The widespread chestnut blight wiped out this dependable annual crop of nuts on which bears, deer, turkeys, and other animals fed in preparation for winter before the boars arrived. Now all these species compete—and the prolific boar is a lusty competitor—for a more uncertain acorn/hickory crop.

Some would cast the boar as pure villain. Others would say that people are at fault for introducing the boar into this region as an exotic species. The sport of hunting was anticipated with relish but the consequences were not considered at all. The boars have now bred with domestic pigs to such an extent that the markings vary from animal to animal. Some show definite spots, others few or none at all. Wildlife artist George Founds, who drew the boars and bear on these pages, was once a guide in this region.


The woodlands rooting of the boars is impossible to miss at trailside. A person could not do as well with ax and hoe—or power tiller!

The wild boar is winning the contest with park efforts to control it. Fewer than 200 are trapped or killed in a year, and even these are soon replaced by the boar’s high reproductive capabilities.

Piglets are born nearly naked, so the mother builds a nest for their first week of life.