This fall the folks at Beyond have seen more than a few rambunctious times and its not even Halloween yet. Liana, Siena (the black lab), and I jumped in the car on one fine September day, and found ourselves (20 hours later) in Teddy Roosevelt National Park.
Now for those of you who do not know where TRNP is, as I did not, its across the very long state of Montana just inside North Dakota on Hwy 94. I’ve heard quite a few folks say how ‘flat’, and ‘uninteresting’ North Dakota is, or the Midwest for that matter. After the next few hours in the park, I can personally say they’re wrong.
We got up to a campsite, which we could not see at four o’clock in the morning a few hours prior, that had warning signs of rattlers and bison. The bison had already made their mark with massive beds flattened in the prairie grass, only yards from our tent. Thankfully none had been there that night, or that morning.
A quick breakfast and a few mandatory emails, and we were on the driving loop. It was hot by 10:00, and since trails in a national park and dogs don’t mix, I decided to jump out of the car and head out for a trail run. 3.5 miles straight through bison and rattle snake country, on a trail next to a creek called Jones Creek (fitting). Liana was going around on the road and would pick me up on the far side.
The day was getting hotter. Being on the road for two weeks was forcing me to be strategic in what clothing became regretfully fragrant. So in running shoes and shorts, I set off. The run was uneventful until 45 minutes later when I could see the Green Subaru at the trail head only 100 yards away. My eyes then traced the trail back to my feet and the area I would have to travel through to get to said car. Sadly there were at least 25 head of Buffalo in that distance, and I would soon find out that I was not going to be let past.
There were two young ones in the bushes, and the massive grass eating grunters were not going to let me through. Scratch that…growlers. They actually growled at me as I tried to whistle my way past.
Not able to go left due to large tight bushes, I was forced up a ridge with semi tall grass. Walking in large steps keeping one leg above the knee tall grass (yes, a picture would have been good), I proceeded to the ridge where I hoped I could traverse and lower myself down to the road. The bull of all bulls though was chewing his cud up top though, and he felt like he had to show off a bit by getting up. Only 30 feet away, and as tall as me, I ‘scampered on down the other side of the ridge, and found myself on a 45 foot cliff overlooking the road. …..No car…..
Side note: I would find out later that several young buffalo had been wrestling near the car, and had actually used the car as a bumper during their game. Liana, in her infinite wises, left for the other trail head hoping I would be as wise, and turn around on the trail.
Quite a while later the bison from below found themselves wandering off down to the east, and I was able to make my way down to the road.
Stopping every car I could, I let each know to look for the green Subaru which held water, and more importantly at this point, a shirt. I believe I was on the ‘35th bottle of beer on the wall’, when a beautiful truck with leather seats, and a trailer big enough to haul at least 6 horses pulled up. A man in a Stetson right out of the movies, rolled down the window, and said ‘I’m thinking your name is Scott’. I of course agreed, and he said to hop in.
30 minutes later, after a call to Liana, she pulled up, and for the coming two hours, we stood around hearing stories of his and 8 others horse riding exploits over the last few decades. Chasing Bison, being chased by Bison, creating traditional masterpiece saddles that are so ordained win contests and art competitions where there is actually ‘art’, and how often the find themselves getting into trouble. It pleased me to know that my ‘trouble’ was pretty low on the scale, all told.
