Dead skunk in the middle of the road
A brief history of roadkill, with an Iowa connection
We saw the carcass on the gravel road in the dim light of dusk even before we smelled it. But in seconds, a familiar stench permeated our pickup as my husband and I drove over the inert lump.
“Skunk,” we both said at the same time. I hummed a few bars of “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road,” Loudon Wainwright III’s 1972 hit song. Then, like clockwork, my husband turned slightly in the driver's seat and gave me his annual autumn reminder which goes a little something like this: Watch for running deer, drive slowly, and avoid hitting roadkill.
It’s fall in the Midwest. Harvest time is driving all types of animals out of the fields and onto the roads. Combined with rut, that means animals are on the move. From skunks and squirrels to deer and slow moving frogs, the streets and highways are a nightmare for humans and animals alike. Roadkill is everywhere.
Roadkill simply refers to an animal or animals that have been struck and killed by drivers of motor vehicles on streets or highways. It turns out that the term roadkill was coined in the late 1950s or early 1960s in the United States, soon after the development of the Interstate Highway System. Prior to that, dead animals in the road were often referred to as “flat meat,” a fact I found slightly nauseating. While most of us have not given the etymology or history of roadkill much thought, it is a modern phenomenon -- problem of human making, and one that requires a human solution.
The history of roadkill has a direct connection to Iowa, specifically to a couple named Dayton and Lillian Stoner. According to the Science History Institute, on June 13, 1924, Stoner, a biologist, and Lillian, an ornithologist, set out on a trip from their home in Iowa City to do some bird banding around Lake Okoboji. Road trips via automobile were still relatively new at this time. While the first car built by Ford Motor Company was sold In 1903, by the 1920s there was tremendous growth in automobile ownership; with it came new risks.
Not long into their trip, Dayton and Lillian began to notice the dead animals strewn around the road. First a bird. Then a squirrel. One after another.
Quickly, Dayton and Lillian deduced these animals had been hit by passing cars; after a while, they were so fascinated by the ongoing carnage that they began to count the dead. As scientists, they realized in short order that they were looking at data, and they launched a research project. In total, their 316-mile trip took two days because they kept stopping to investigate and record the facts. They repeated the same general route home in July, with Dayton driving and Lillian tallying.
The historical account Dayton eventually wrote up for Science reported that the roster of casualties from Iowa City to Okoboji ultimately added up to 225 animals: 19 flickers, 18 ground squirrels, 14 garter snakes, 12 cottontails, two weasels, one woodchuck, and 53 red-headed woodpeckers. In later writing, Dayton raised the red flag that the automobile “demands recognition as one of the important checks upon the natural increase of many forms of life.”
Fast forward a century and Dayton’s warning has proved prescient. Animals were always at risk on roads, but the peril escalated with the construction of the Interstate Highway System. Ironically, highways were designed in a way that actually attracted wildlife; for general safety measures, road engineers added grass covered medians and verges to highways — which drew in deer and other animals. Similarly, engineers used salt on roads to mitigate ice, but they didn’t count on animals being attracted to the salt. We’ve inadvertently baited animals onto roads where we mow them down.
Today, humans kill more wildlife with our cars than we do by hunting. In the United States, an estimated one million animals end up as roadkill every single day. As one article pointed out, that’s 12 animals a second. According to a 2020 State Farm report, Iowa ranks seventh for car/animal collisions, with a resident driver having a one in 58 chance of colliding with an animal compared to a one in 109 chance for the average U.S. driver.
Most of the roadkill in the US represents species that are plentiful or even overpopulated: raccoons, squirrels, white tailed deer, opossums, and skunks. But for rarer species, motor vehicles pose an existential threat. According to one Department of Transportation study, there were 21 federally listed threatened or endangered animal species in the United States for which road mortality is the greatest threat to their survival. The problem is just as bad worldwide, with penguins, anteaters, jaguars, raptors and other animals in danger of extinction dwindling in even greater numbers due to cars.
Crashes also cause significant harm to livestock and pets, with World Atlas estimating 26 million cats and six million dogs perish due to collisions with vehicles. Growing up on a farm, we lived in fear of cattle breaking through fences and ending up on the roads and were sadly accustomed to pets having short lifespans. In town, I cringe when I see dogs off leash as I know how easy it is for a pup to bolt out into the road and be hit by a passing vehicle; the flattened cats on my morning walk bear witness to this risk.
Cars may be a threat to animals, but collisions with animals are equally bad for humans. In addition to the death of wildlife, the count of accident-related human fatalities and injuries is estimated by the Federal Highway Administration to cost motorists and taxpayers more than $8 billion per year. The aforementioned State Farm report revealed that U.S. drivers filed 2.1 million animal collision insurance claims in the one year period from July 2020-July 2021. Of these, 1.5 million involved deer, which cause an estimated 200 fatalities and over 10,000 injuries yearly – with the likelihood doubling between October and December.
Add up the medical costs and vehicle damages, and the expenses associated with animal collisions are staggering. Not to mention that road carnage can take its toll on tourism or even satisfaction with one’s community; no one wants to look at bloody, carcass-strewn roads. Not only are they visually upsetting, they are dangerous.
As a result, removing dead animal carcasses from roadways and highways is a critical part of public safety. Local and county governments have animal control services to pick up roadkill. Quick removal can prevent hazards to other drivers or prevent harm to animals who seek to feed on the carcass of move an animal in their social group.
We created this problem, but what can we do to prevent it?
It turns out there are entire fields of study dedicated to solving the problem of roadkill. Road ecologists, wildlife managers, landscape architects, naturalists and scholars worldwide are attempting to understand and address this issue. One option to lessen roadkill is to stop building roads. But I think everyone would agree that’s just unrealistic.
Another alternative is to stay off the roads. That actually works. According to an article on National Geographic's site, roadkill rates fell dramatically as COVID-19 lockdowns kept drivers at home. At the inception of the pandemic in March and April of 2020, traffic on US roads declined by approximately 73%, and at that same time, animal fatalities fell about 58% for larger mammals like deer, elk, moose, bears and mountain lions, and about the same amount for domestic or farm animals like dogs or sheep. But that’s also unrealistic; no one is staying off the roads.
Various states are experimenting with highway overpasses and tunnels so animals can cross safely, and blocking road access with fences. These work, and are doable. But if you mentioned funding a grassy bridge for raccoons or deer to cross the highway to an Iowan, I’m guessing the majority would laugh out loud.
So, what is the strategy? If we have an overarching approach to stop car and animal collisions at a state or national level, there is certainly not much attention on it.
When I started asking around, that’s what I learned — not too many people in my Iowa circles or beyond knew anything about roadkill. Despite the fact that everyone has seen roadkill and many (one in 58, remember?) have been in accidents, we just drive on by. Most of us don’t know about the magnitude of the situation or give any thought to possible solutions. Not surprisingly, when I asked friends about the topic they laughed and were a bit puzzled why I was asking them about dead animals. That just seems plumb crazy.
Interestingly, however, one group knew a little something about roadkill — the hunters. What they told me was that scientists are increasingly turning to roadkill to study or curb the spread of disease or to understand species behavior. By using tissue samples from carcasses harvested from the roads, biologists can avoid collecting and using live animals in research, so animal activists who hate hunting at least like that. The DNR in numerous states collect countless tissue samples from road-kill carcasses. In Iowa, many of these are submissions by deer hunters, and they’ve proven useful. For example, in January of this year, Iowa Capital Dispatch reported that tissue samples from a deer with chronic wasting disease were discovered in the interior of Iowa in Greene County. That information helped identify a serious malady.
The newsletter of the Iowa Chapter of The Wildlife Society actually solicits roadkill for research; their website has a notice that says, “If you find a dead gray fox (roadkill, trapped, hunted, other) that’s in decent condition, we'd be interested in having the carcass for further examination/necropsy,” and they list the number of a participating veterinarian.
Finally, the hunters informed me that roadkill is a source of food. While I can’t think of anyone who wants to eat a squished squirrel, some deer are harvestable. Even PETA agrees that reclaiming roadkill is an ethical option. As of 2023, eating roadkill is legal in 30 states. In Iowa, one can pick up roadkill but a salvage tag is required.
I mentioned eating roadkill to a few friends and family members. My hunter husband told me it’s actually not too plausible to find deer meat from roadkill, as the meat is too bruised. My city friends were either speechless at the concept or – again – laughed and made requisite jokes about critter kabobs or opossum casserole.
While it is positive news that strategies exist to do good things with roadkill, that doesn’t prevent it. At the end of the day, there are really only two main types of roadkill mitigation measures: changing driver behavior, and changing wildlife behavior. We may be able to create overpasses or tunnels for animals to cross highways, but we’re not likely going to change their patterns of movement significantly, certainly not in the short term.
Which brings us back to our own behavior -- back to my husband’s annual reminders. During the period from October to December, be careful. Be alert, especially at dawn and dusk when animals are on the move. If you see an animal, slow down – don’t swerve to miss it, as the insurance data shows you’re more likely to collide with another car and kill someone or yourself. If you injure an animal, don’t get out of your car and try to lure it off the road or you’ll likely get hurt or cause greater harm to the animal; instead, call animal control. If roadkill is on your property or rural road, it’s up to you to remove it, but use extreme caution. If you see roadkill in towns or cities, report it to animal control or your municipality so they can remove it and prevent harm.
Most of all, we can take the issue seriously. It's easy to laugh about roadkill. The word itself is kind of funny. There are video games, songs, and even dishes on restaurant menus about roadkill. But Dayton Stoner was right – humans in cars are a serious threat to our ecological system. Ultimately, it will be up to us to fix the problem, or at least reduce it.
So for anyone who cares about animals and values safety: Go slow at the deer crossing sign, and watch for the dead skunks in the middle of the road.
Please consider supporting the Iowa Writers Collaborative. Here’s our current list:
Laura Belin: Iowa Politics with Laura Belin
Doug Burns: The Iowa Mercury
Dave Busiek: Dave Busiek on Media
Art Cullen: Art Cullen’s Notebook
Suzanna de Baca Dispatches from the Heartland
Debra Engle: A Whole New World
Julie Gammack: Julie Gammack’s Iowa Potluck
Jody Gifford: Benign Inspiration
Beth Hoffman: In the Dirt
Dana James: New Black Iowa
Robert Leonard: Deep Midwest: Politics and Culture
Chuck Offenburger: Iowa Boy Chuck Offenburger
Barry Piatt: Behind the Curtain
Mary Swander: Mary Swander’s Buggy Land
Ed Tibbetts: Along the Mississippi
For a weekly roundup of our columnists, subscribe here:
Great Article.....have known about road kill for many years, and also about skunk smell (personal experiences). Roadkill are apparent in all states, I can verify for North, West, and some South.
Thanks Suzanne this one made me smile and laugh.
Please don't assume that Iowans wouldn't support animal crossings and I think they have merit. Near Banff Park in Canada they make a difference!