As he waits for his cargo to be unloaded, Mike Knowles looks as joyful as a new father beholding his first-born. An owner/operator leased to Landstar Ligon, Knowles has just finished an easy run from Madison, Wis., to Hohenwald, Tenn., and the day is yet young.

But he's in no hurry to get his trailer unload so he can get back on the road. Magic is happening before his eyes as his cargo, a 7,600-pound female Asian elephant incongruously named Winkie, gingerly backs from the van to her new home at The Elephant Sanctuary.

As Knowles and a small group of reporters and major patrons (including country music stars K.T. Oslin and The Hagar Twins) watch, Winkie slowly begins to explore the elephant barn — her first step on the way to the soft meadows and woods of this rustic refuge.

Winkie is the second elephant Knowles has brought to the Sanctuary; she joins six other female Asian pachyderms in this peaceful place. For years, she was a beloved fixture at the Henry Vilas Zoo in Madison, Wis. But the zoo's facilities were inadequate under national zoo guidelines, and residents had lobbied to find a better home to live out her days.

In keeping with The Elephant Sanctuary's unofficial motto, she packed her trunk and moved to Tennessee. For the rest of her life, which could be a couple of decades, she is finally free. That's quite a reward at the end of a run. Small wonder that Knowles is glowing.

Trucks, of course, have been indispensable in transporting the Sanctuary's seven residents. US Trucking of Nashville, Tenn., a Landstar Ligon contractor, has been instrumental in arranging the hauls. Three of its owner/operators — Knowles, Allen Hanson and Wayne McCrary have volunteered their time and skills to deliver the elephants.

Also, before Winkie's arrival, UPS donated and modified a trailer into a rolling "corral" that keeps an elephant from moving around too much without the use of leg chains.

A Unique Haven

The non-profit Elephant Sanctuary was founded in 1995 as the USA's first natural habitat refuge developed specifically for endangered Asian elephants. It operates on 800 acres surrounded by a 3,000-acre buffer zone about 65 miles outside of Nashville; it is not open to the general public. Inside, elephants are free to roam its green pastures, drink and play in its still, spring-fed waters and retreat to a heated barn in colder weather.

Founded by experienced elephant handlers Carol Buckley and Scott Blais, it exists for two reasons: To provide a haven for old, sick or needy elephants, and, to provide education about the crises that face these social, playful, complex, intelligent and endangered creatures.

In the wild, female elephants form complex family structures. They grieve for their dead, show humor and express compassion for one another with intense interactions, Buckley says. They typically walk 30 to 50 miles each day.

But in small, aging zoos and some circuses, many live alone in small enclosures and are chained much of the time. Several of the Sanctuary's elephants were mistreated by handlers and failed to receive necessary medical care for illnesses and injuries. Under such circumstances, say Buckley and Blais, the animals can't live even the semblance of an ordinary life.

In recent years, many zoos have recognized the need to provide more suitable habitats for their animals. But Buckley and Blais say the Sanctuary is unique in size and scope, and in its treatment of "the girls." There, human interaction is kept to a minimum, and to a minimum number of people. There are no chains, no coercion, no tricks to perform, no gawking, noisy crowds.

The elephants are free to roam, play, make a mud wallow, or sleep in the open or in the heated barn. They get medical care and special diets. One underweight elephant even has her own "sweater" to stay warm on cool days.

Hauling Trunks

Winkie weighed in at a healthy 7,600-plus pounds, about right for an elephant of her stature and age, according to Buckley. But all that heft presents a challenge to transporting her species.

In the past, The Elephant Sanctuary used a donated trailer that had been modified to accommodate its bulky cargo. For the last time in their lives, chains were attached to the elephants' legs to limit their ability to move around inside the trailer. Although they couldn't walk around much, they could sway their heads and bodies.

Elephants sway when they're nervous. When his first elephant cargo, Sissy, started to sway, it felt like hauling swinging beef, Knowles says. He slowed down just in case the motion increased, but it never became a problem.

Winkie presented a different situation. The new modified UPS trailer has removable steel bars that form a pen, eliminating the need for chains. Winkie didn't sway as much as Sissy, but she did move forward and backward in the trailer. "I guess it's like the slosh that tanker drivers feel," he said.

Getting into the place challenges even experienced drivers. The Elephant Sanctuary is tucked away in a "holler" amid rolling hills. You approach the turnoff on a good two-lane road, but it's easy to miss – there are no signs identifying the place. A narrow trail dips sharply down from the two-lane, twists past a couple of small homes, then disappears into woods.

Out of sight of the road, the path comes up to a stout fence; once through the gate, you see a sign directing you to "cross creek" and climb a short rise out of the trees to the Sanctuary proper. It's a path better suited to a scratched-up pickup, not to a lengthy semi rig. But thanks to the drivers' skills, each elephant has been delivered gently and without incident.

Knowles' cabover rig splashes through the creek and emerges slowly from the woods, grumbling and rocking gently. The barn sits at the crown of the rise. But despite the angle, he easily wheels the rig around and backs up to the door of the barn.

Making friends

At this point, the elephants' old lives end and new lives begin. Buckley and Blais have an ironclad rule: the elephants will not be pushed, prodded or otherwise driven out of the trailer. For the rest of their lives, the great dusty brown beasts will live by their own inner rhythms.

So the unloading process takes on a powerful sense of drama and anticipation. In preparation, the Sanctuary staff has spread an elephant feast of melons, bananas, carrots, potatoes and other vegetables and fruits atop a pile of timothy hay. They and Winkie's handlers will use the food, as well as calls and pats, to entice her to leave the safety of the trailer for the strange barn.

There's a glitch: the trailer floor is two or three feet higher than the barn floor, and there's no ramp. The staff breaks up some bales of hay behind the trailer to form a step. The handlers toss food into the trailer and Winkie eases back. But as she tests the mound of hay with a back foot, the hay gives and she draws back, crossing one back leg in front of the other as if to say, "I'm not sure about this."

Knowles and Blais consult. Knowles pulls the trailer forward a bit, Blais fires up a front end loader and drops a couple of buckets of dirt just inside the door. Within minutes of finding the footing more solid, she backs out and away from the trailer.

There's a sigh of relief from the crowd, who have been warned not to make any loud noises. Winkie seems not to notice, but at first she shyly keeps her back to the people in the barn.

Slowly, however, curiosity wins and she turns around to gaze about the clean light beige-painted structure. Her handlers continue to hand her snacks, and her trunk delicately takes the food from their hands and pops it into her mouth, then swings back to pluck another treat. At one point she pauses, a huge carrot held in her mouth like a bright orange cigar.

For the rest of the afternoon and following days, Buckley and Blais let the other elephants get acquainted with Winkie, always at their own pace. It takes her 11 days to venture out through the open barn door. Used to walking only on flat concrete, she takes several more days to literally find her footing on real ground.

And Knowles? He's eager to bring another "girl" home to Tennessee.

For more information about The Elephant Sanctuary, and to learn more about elephants in general, visit www.elephants.com. Also, on Nov. 19, 2000, National Geographic and PBS will present "The Urban Elephant" featuring the reunion of Jenny and Shirley, two of the Sanctuary's residents.