Where The Buffalo Roam

Wednesday, September 23

It's a misty, moisty morning when we wake up today. The tops of the hills surrounding the campground are shrouded in fog, and the damp air makes the pines extra fragrant. We are having a lazy morning, and spend some time reorganizing and cleaning the cabin. Since the weather isn't great for sightseeing, we head into Custer for some shopping. We find some cute shops; our favorites are

Dawn Raccoon Whisperer

the Claw, Antler & Hide store where Dane bought his buffalo ball sac 2 years ago, and a rock  shop where I splurge on some colorful slag glass. The clerk laughs at me while I browse, saying I am in the classic rock-hound's posture - head down and butt up! I love rock shops! Deb and I spend some time at a coffee shop that has WiFi so we can work on our blogs while Gin, Tiff, and Dawn eat lunch.

By 1:00 the sun has broken through and the sky is a dazzling blue. Needles Highway, here we come! This highway winds and climbs through some spectacular scenery, providing us with some great photo stops. The aspen leaves are just starting to turn yellow at the higher elevations, a sharp contrast to the dark green pines. When we reach the granite spires called the Needles, there is some excitement. A tour bus seems to be jammed in the tunnel! He inches his way forward and finally emerges to applause and cheers from the gawking crowd. We are laughing as we leave, wondering what he is going to do at the next tunnel, which is even smaller. I'm thinking he won't have his job long!

YeeHaw!

Tonight we've signed up for a Buffalo Safari and Chuckwagon Cookout. We receive cowboy hats and bandannas and a driver named Harry; we're riding in an extended jeep with no sides so we can see everything. As we ride along, Harry tells us about the park's history and points out interesting sights. He's from Texas, from near the town where Tiff used to live. They strike up a conversation about all the places they both know in Texas. Our first wildlife sighting is pronghorn, the second fastest land animal on earth. Second only to the cheetah, pronghorns are built for speed, not for jumping. They cannot jump fences, but must crawl beneath them. A male and his harem are resting near a water tank; Harry drives as near as he can so we are able to get a close look. The buck has dark patches on his temples that are scent glands. He rubs these on the tops of weeds, marking his territory. We pass by the park airport, and the corrals where the buffalo will be herded on roundup day. Harry is a great guide, full of information and able to answer all our questions. We strike out on a dirt road, and shit suddenly gets real.

Bumping through a creek and across a meadow, we top a small rise and there they are! The buffalo herd that will be stampeded on Friday has already been assembled in this valley, having been gathered all month for this week's activities. The whole herd is moving toward a water hole, and Harry takes us right into their path where we sit and watch and listen in total and complete awe as they amble past.

There are not enough words in the world to describe this spectacle. Hundreds of buffalo - bulls, cows, and calves - surround us, just inches away. Remember the scene in 'Dances With Wolves' where John, Kicking Bird, and Wind In His Hair are lying on top of a ridge looking down into a valley scouting the buffalo  herd? Well, we are in that valley in the middle of the herd! Close your eyes, imagine that scene, insert us, and you might begin to understand what it was like. It was as if we'd stepped back in time 150 years, and if Indians had come racing down the hill on their ponies it would have somehow seemed entirely appropriate.

As if this spectacle isn't perfect enough, a group of cowboys appear on the skyline, silhouetted by the setting sun. Yipping and popping their bullwhips, they gallop down and cut out a group of buffalo, so close to us that they tell us not to move for a few minutes as they move the animals away. In just moments they are headed down the valley. Harry tells us that these buffalo are the ones that will be in the corrals for the public to watch being branded  and sorted on Friday, and that he has never witnessed the cutting of the herd before. We are so extremely lucky to be in the right place at the right time. Incredible. Wonderful. Awesome. Epic. As I said, there are simply not enough words to describe this properly.

On our way to the chuckwagon cookout, Harry takes us where most people aren't allowed to go. We follow a service road high into the hills, off-roading to a spot where we can see for miles. The valley spreads out far beneath us; the mountain range stretching to the horizon. The view is breathtaking! And believe it or not, we see another buffalo herd that hasn't yet been driven down into the holding valley. Unfortunately, a locked gate stands between us and them. We enjoy the view of both buffalo and landscape before moving on to our next destination.

Dinner is served in yet another picturesque mountain valley. We arrive to chuckwagons and picnic tables, the smell of grilled meat hanging in the air. Two cowboy entertainers sing while we get our plates of steak, potato salad, coleslaw, beans, watermelon, cornbread, and a cookie. Everything is just delicious, and we sing along with the cowboys. After dinner, everyone dances the Hokey Pokey and Chicken Dance to warm up for the trip back to our cars. We shout an echoing 'Yeehaw' to the hills before loading back into the Jeep. It is a perfect ending to a perfect day.

During the drive back to Blue Bell, all we can talk about is the buffalo. None of us will ever forget this magnificent, wonderful, incredible day. Thanks, Harry, and goodnight!