The Crackpot: At Home Where The Buffalo Roam

Although I have attempted some crazy stunts throughout my wild and checkered past, I must admit I didn't have the intestinal fortitude it took to get quite that close to the living, breathing buffalo we encountered, as I traveled through the Badlands of South Dakota with my daughter and son-in-law recently.

Frankly, until I saw one of those wild, 2000-lb. "Tatankas" for myself, I didn't believe that any free-grazing buffalo still existed out here.

But Badlands' rangers inform me that a heard of nearly 500 buffalo roam through the 160-square-mile, protected grounds of the Badlands National Park.

Now, if you're up on your history, you know that the great Sioux Nation once roamed this part of the country following the buffalo herds that numbered in the millions and thrived on these prairie grasslands.

Only after the late 1800s -- and the white man's systematic extermination of those buffalo herds in order to starve the Native Americans into submission -- did anyone begin to recognize how close the great American Bison had come to total extinction.

Today, buffalo once again populate these western plains, but most live on ranches where they're bred and raised for their nutritious, sweet-tasting meat.

(We cooked some buffalo burgers over our campfire one evening, so I can attest to the fact that they do taste great -- and yes, a bit sweeter than beef.)

Only a few, small buffalo herds still wander free on the protected grasslands of our national parks. And in just such a park here in the Badlands did I have the good fortune to cross paths with one of these majestic beasts.

Just so you know, I took my photo of that herd grandfather from right next to our van, and I did NOT hike down to where he stood, as some of the more adventuresome (or should I say hair-brained) tourists in the next vehicle did.

Park rangers also informed us that buffalo cause more tourist-related injuries than any other danger in the park -- including rattle-snake-bite, rock climbing and other hiking-related injuries.

These Dakota Badlands look like no other place I've ever seen. Driving through this area only one description came to mind: the looming, craggy peaks looked like giant sand castles the Creator had strewn around the edges of an ancient, inland sea that now undulates with the hypnotic waves of prairie grass.

While on this western tour with "Grant and Sally Ministries," we've encountered quite a bit of native wild-life during our camping stopovers, too.

No doubt you've heard of "prairie dogs," which live in underground colonies and look a bit like the ground-hogs that populate our own home state of Ohio. Well, we ran into some of their miniature cousins during one recent camp stop near the Missouri River in Yankton, South Dakota.

As we set up our tents, I noticed little holes peppered all over the campground, which I just attributed to moles. But late one night, as I bumbled my way to the nearby latrine in the dark, a fuzzy little body caught my attention as it scampered right across my foot.

Now, although I do find most animals quite endearing, I have to admit that such a close encounter with a fuzzy creature in unfamiliar territory (in the dark, no less), did give me quite a jolt. (Scared the pajeezes out of me, more like it!)

I later came to find out these zippy little critters are affectionately known as "flicker-tails." They looked like a cross between a chipmunk and a flat-faced ferret, and (truth be known), they're more afraid of people than most folks are of them -- which is probably the main reason they scamper around in the middle of the night.

At our last campground in Wall, South Dakota (referred to as giant-mosquito flats), we also made the acquaintance of some rather obnoxious insects that had the uncanny ability to bite through three layers of clothing in 35-m.p.h. winds (we're talking jeans, sweatpants and thick sweatshirts here!).

I must look at least five pounds heavier, since all these puffy mosquito-bites appear to have grown together!

Maybe if I hunch a little closer to this fire and sing real loud these killer skeeters will stay outside the smoky ring of our little camp circle:

"Oh give me a hoooooome where the buffalo roooooam...."

Home • Sample Columns • MaryLee Marilee • Crackpot Kudos
Guest Book • Crackpot's Favorite Books • Publication/Syndication