Saturday, August 23, 2008

Oh, Give me a home... where the buffalo roam...

From Fort Collins, I headed up to the Black Hills. Eastern Wyoming was flat, boring, and hot - it ranged from low 90's up to right at 100. Later, heading for the Badlands, it would be worse, over 103 (short peak of 110).

A bimmer joined me for a romp part of the way - I'll spare telling you what two BMWs did over the Wyoming prarie.

I took I-25 up to Hwy-20 to Hwy-18 through Lusk and Hot Springs. I came up through the south end of Custer State Park.

Finally, what I came for:



Some prarie dogs have been shown to carry bubonic plague (!).




Getting ready to head into the hills:



The smell of the Black Hills - the forest - is distinctive and pleasant (no - not because of the buffalo chips). I remember this from childhood. It runs from Custer State Park all up to Mount Rushmore. Smell - what a powerful memory. I haven't been back here in 40 years, but I so distinctly remember the smell of the forest in the hills. Awesome.




I wish I would have taken the road up to the fire lookout. I remember climbing up on this one with my father.



Critters everywhere.:



This doesn't look too bad. One biker meandered through the herd, and they parted when he got really close. A little later I would try the same. See that curve at the top of this hill? They were all over the road for another 1/4 mile after the curve!





This is across the road from me. As I moved into the herd, they would get close enough that I could smell them - it was frightening. But they parted. A camper-van followed me. At the top of the hill, at the curve, there was a mom with a calf, and two obviously protective males at their back. They wound up running down the road. The bulls kept glancing back at me. They don't look at you - they look RIGHT IN YOUR EYES! How do I get them to go off to the side, so I can just pass? Finally, I risked getting a little close to the right of one of the bulls, and that moved them all off to the left.

A little further up, I would see a mom - accross both lanes - with a hungry calf nursing, and two more bulls standing guard - between me and mom.

I stopped. Eat away, little one - I can wait. I looked at the herd behind me; ahead of me. My motor was heating up. I didn't want to spook them with a horn (not safe, I thought). I turned off my motor. The camper-van got impatient. I waved them on, but not much room w/ buffalo all around to maneuver. They made it by me, and I followed closely - mimicking the spacing I saw of the calves.

We got through that way.

This sort of looks like not much on the pictures, but you need to get a sense of how big (and far away in these pictures) these guys are. For example, take a look at this video I found online - it rings true to my memory:


http://youtu.be/-ThpSB21hQk

Buffalo head-butt attack on motorcycle:

http://youtu.be/6oUqd9M4JFg?t=52s

Phew!

Later, a pheasant would run in the road in front of me - memories of my hitting a wild turkey. I saw a vacancy sign at the state park lodge. Staff there would tell me they'd heard of buffalo throwing bikes - they were so powerful. I said "bicycles?" "No - motorcycles - clear up in the air."

See this report of Buffalo vs. biker - motorcycle thrown 15 to 20 feet in the air; this is serious stuff.

I thought of an 850 lb K1200LT landing on me, and people watching helpless.

/* that rapid city news article no longer online... */

*sigh*


A resort along the way, just before I stopped at the Park Lodge.

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