These plump, chocolate-brown rodents—often mistaken for oversized squirrels by first-time hikers—are Canada’s most endangered mammal and one of the rarest in the world.
With their expressive faces, social chatter, and luxurious fur coats, they’ve become beloved mascots of the Whistler region, yet their story stretches far beyond the ski hills—deep into the Ice Age and the fossil record.
Whistler marmots live only in a few scattered pockets of alpine habitat on Vancouver Island.
They’re burrowers by trade, digging deep tunnels into the rocky soil of meadows that blossom with lupines and sedges in summer. Above ground, they’re social creatures—touching noses, grooming one another, and giving high-pitched warning whistles whenever a golden eagle or wandering cougar appears on the horizon.
They fatten themselves through the brief mountain summer, storing energy for their long, seven-month hibernation beneath the snow.
Each colony is a close-knit family unit, with older marmots helping younger ones learn where to dig and when to hide. They even recognize one another’s voices, an important trick when you’re living in echoing valleys where one chirp can bounce for kilometres.
The Whistler marmot’s lineage reaches far back into the Pleistocene, around 2.6 million to 11,700 years ago. Fossil evidence from North America shows that their ancestors, early marmotine rodents, thrived across cooler steppe and tundra landscapes when glaciers waxed and waned over the continent.
Fossilized marmot bones—particularly jaw and skull fragments—have been found in Ice Age deposits in Yukon, Alaska, and Alberta, revealing that marmots were already well adapted to cold, alpine life long before modern humans reached the Pacific Northwest.
The Whistler marmot’s closest relatives today include the hoary marmot (Marmota caligata) and the Olympic marmot (Marmota olympus), both descendants of those hardy Ice Age pioneers. Genetic studies suggest that the Whistler marmot’s ancestors became isolated on Vancouver Island after sea levels rose at the end of the last glaciation, creating an island-bound species uniquely suited to its misty mountaintop home.
A Comeback in Progress
Once reduced to fewer than 30 individuals in the wild, the Whistler marmot is making a slow but steady comeback thanks to dedicated breeding and reintroduction programs. Today, over 200 roam the high meadows once more. Their cheerful whistles echo through the alpine air—sometimes feeling like a bit of heckling as you meander up the trails or stop to photograph the scenery—but always a welcome sound.
