Yesterday we left the house at 7:15 am to drive to Medora. Our church bell choir had a gig at the Congregational Church there. Medora is a little town just outside Theodore Roosevelt National Park in the heart of the ND Badlands. It is full of tourists and tourist attractions. The church only has services in the summer now, with guest pastors each week. It is a small, one room church with about 20 pews.
On the way there, we saw a couple of Forest Service trucks on the side of the road near a deep ditch. There were about four guys there, along with a big bison. We gathered that the bison had somehow got through the very tall fence that marks the park boundary along the interstate. The fence is presumably high enough to keep the elk and bison from jumping over. I wouldn’t want to have the task of herding an angry bison, intent on roaming, back through the fence. They are fierce creatures. I don’t understand why any sane person would think they could walk up to one and pet it.
We encountered another wild creature once we made it to the church. The preacher for the day was a well-known local Lutheran minister, retired now, with a reputation for being a real character. The mild mannered librarian in our bell choir muttered “Oh s##t” when she saw his name in the bulletin. She has known him since she was a young adult and had him as a pastor for a while. He is a kind, gracious and well-intentiond man, but one who is all over the place in terms of his sermons and impulsive changes to the liturgy. He would be as hard to manage at a church council meeting as that bison in the ditch would be. He named several people sitting in the pews told and anecdotes about them and their familes (including the librarian) from years past, somehow connecting them to the theme of his sermon. His sermon didn’t run over the time allotted, though, and he only digressed from the order of service in the bulletin a couple of times.
On the drive home we saw the forest service trucks along with a Sherriff’s Department truck a mile or so west of where we saw them on the way to Medora. I guess the bison was still on the move. I hope they can get it back through the fence without anyone getting hurt.
What up close and personal experiences have you had with wildlife? Who are some characters in your life?
Trail Baboon 
Two come to mind most readily, both of which happened on the same trip and have always seemed like a bonded pair of memories.
This was on my trip to Africa. The first was in the Ngorogoro Crater in Tanzania, on a jeep tour. We came across an elephant who didn’t seem happy to see us. He was waving his ears and trumpeting and charged right at us. I was absolutely sure they would find my camera next to our mangled bodies and find that last picture of an elephant. Then about 500 feet away, he (the elephant) abruptly stopped, looked at us a bit and ambled away. The driver/guide said “he’s all bark, no bite”.
Then a few days later, at a safari camp location in Kenya, in a more substantial van, we came over the top of a hill and on our left was a big elephant shaking a tree – he was farther off than the earlier elephant had been. The driver abruptly stopped the van and radioed the other van who was behind us. We saw the other van stop and turn around and then our driver started to slowly back up. After we were out of the elephant’s view, he turned and said to us. “This elephant is kind of a jerk. We give him a wide berth.”
It was a revelation to me at the time about how well these drivers and guides knew the individual animals on their ranges.
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Not many, I guess. I think I’ve told the story before about running along a trail in Jay Cooke State Park, went around a curve in the trail and almost ran right into a black bear. I turned around and ran the other way as fast as I could. The bear did the same.
There was the time when I was walking on the Sakatah State Trail in Sakatah Lake State Park with Pippin on a leash. We heard a lot of peeping sounds coming from uphill on the south side of the trail. The lake was on the north side of the trail, somewhat downhill. Suddenly I saw all these fuzzy little baby wood ducks running straight toward Pippin and me. I quickly glanced toward the lake and saw two wood duck hens swimming on the lake and quacking. The babies had just made their jump out of the tree and when I glanced at them, another one jumped. There were a lot of them, all peeping and running straight toward us. First, I didn’t trust Pippin not to react like any dog would so I picked him up. Second, it occurred to me that many species of animal babies imprint upon the first thing they see when their mama isn’t right there. I wanted them to have a normal wood duck life, so with my 20-pound dog in my arms, I took off running down the trail. The mothers were calling frantically from the lake. When I slowed down and looked back, the babies had actually followed me a short distance on the trail, but one by one they began to go downhill toward their quacking mothers.
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Like. WP is in a mood today and will not let me like.
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I can’t like anything either.
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As I thought more about this wildlife encounter, I remembered that Pippin did actually grab one of the little ducklings in his mouth. That’s when I grabbed him, horrified. The little fluff ball fell out of his mouth – second drop it had made in the last few minutes – and it ran back toward me. I remember feeling alarmed about the ducklings possibly deciding I was their mother, and Pippin was squirming in my arms, so I turned and ran. Poor Pippin was so cheated of his prey.
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Rise and Shine, Baboons,
In the same area which Renee is describing, just further south into S. Dakota, we also buffalo. This was close to 50 years ago. In the S Dakota state park where there is a herd of buffalo, we were in our car where we were supposed to be, just stopped in a line of cars where we gawked at the wildlife, when a buffalo walked up to the car to gawk back at us. The funny part was that the animal had an evergreen branch from a pine tree stuck on its horn, like a tropical flower behind the ear of a Polynesian beauty. We felt surprised but not endangered. The buffalo then wandered off to look in the next car.
This weekend while with my childhood friends, we talked about any number of local characters with whom we were all familiar. One woman told the story of her brother, who grew up to be a local character, who as a child opened “presents” he found in the attic. The “presents” were boxes of his ancestors’ cremated ashes stored there. Her brother presented himself crying to their parents, covered in white dust.
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A few non-threatening encounters with bison and the various deer species of both badlands of TR park and SD badlands.
50 years ago we were on a bison ranch in central SD, a place that raised them for meat. So many stories they had to tell. If you remember Marlboro cigarettes back then in their ads featured an older man with a heavily creased and tanned face wearing a cowboy hat. He worked there. At one point we were in a vehicle parked in the middle of a herd of about 600 one and two year olds. They looked about the same as adult cattle. They had gathered all around the vehicle. My sister asked what happens if they stampeded. We had 5 small children with us. The driver honked the horn. They took off running all around us but left a wide lane around us. We sat there and in 10 minutes they were all. Back.
Clyde
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I remember that guy and those ads.
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We were on that ranch because my b-i-l was a character in that he became friends with most of the people he met, including the owner of that ranch.
I have told before of my two batty aunts in Florida, who died a decade ago, the ones who kept mailing me junk, including several pairs of bright pink polyester pants with one leg 5 inches shorter than the other. They were for Nellie. Mabel mailed them after Nellie died. Mabel was sure I would know someone who could use them.
A favorite student of mine does performances which are very successful portraying several things. Two years he was working up one with a set of characters he had met. He asked if it would be all right to include me.
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So glad to know a real Character, Clyde.
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Years ago, camping on Isle Royale, I was sleeping (outside the tent) in the moonlight on Sisquit Bay. I woke up to see a beautiful red fox only a few feet away, looking at me, trying to figure out what I was. Neither of us felt any fear. It was a magical moment. After he left, I went back into the tent as it had started sprinkling. A good thing as later i looked out our little tent window to see lots of noisy hairy legs. The moose had come down to drink!!
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While camping on Isle Royal we, too had a close encounter with a couple of foxes; they tried to steal some of our food while we were sitting on the ground eating.
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I know lots of people who would qualify as characters. Right now I can’t narrow it down to only one. We have a few “characters” right here on the Trail.
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I like the characters who don’t know they are characters. It’s definitely in the eye of the beholder.
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When we talk about the characters here on the trail, I often wonder if on some other blog somewhere people are describing us?
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Laughing out loud!
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Ha!
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Just heard from a colleague that there is a black bear way out of its range in Beach, ND, a very small town directly west of us on the ND/MT border!
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I like how you saw the similarity, Renee, between the renegade buffalo and the renegade pastor…
In Yellowstone Park in maybe 1958, we had the (fairly common) experience of a bear pawing our car’s windshield as were just starting to leave our camp sight.
And I’ve told before about how I rescued a couple of tiny squirrels by taking Charlie the Cat inside.
Thinking – there must be others…
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The first time I visited Yellowstone in 1966, bears were all over the place. You’d see them along the road begging for food from passing cars. Oftentimes the cars would stop, and people would get out to take pictures of their kids with bears, and lots of people would hand them food through their car windows. Despite lots of signs warning that these were wild animals that could be dangerous, and not to feed them, apparently people didn’t believe them.
Ten years later when I went back, the bears had all been moved to more remote areas. We camped in two different campsites during our five day stay, but we never saw a bear. On two shorter subsequent visits we didn’t see any bears, either.
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My maternal grandma was quite a character. An orphan by age 4, brought up by relatives who might not have really wanted her, come over “on the boat” from Sweden at age 15.
She had the most delightful laugh! By the time of her golden years when I knew her, she consulted the Astrology column of the newspaper, played her old upright piano by ear, and re-married at age 72. She would say things like “the body needs more sweets than anything else”. In her last house, when she had outlived Husband #2, her daughters would find empty beer cans behind the refrig, where she would toss the from the couch when she was finished. She was proud of all her names – here’s to Ruth Thyra Augusta Blom Sterling Jensen.
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Like!
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I’ve talked before about the raccoon that grabbed me between the legs. I still harbor a grudge against raccoons.
I’ll add a video from the second Incredibles movie with the raccoon. I tried to chase one down with the gator middle of the day. Five feet from him he pulled the same move the one in the movie did! I’d have had him if he hadn’t stopped short!
And I’ve had a mouse run up my pant leg.
And the stupid little ankle biter dog that bit me.
And bats in the theaters, and snakes in the straw…
An owl in the garage during a real cold spell.
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I can’t top those. The most memorable wildlife experience for us, and it’s one I’ve referenced more than once on the Trail, is when the pair of great horned owls fledged in the tree outside our living room window.
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I love that photo. So glad you shared it again.
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Those are faces only a mother could love.
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She did. During the day, the chicks would sit on a branch outside our living room window. Occasionally they would lose their grip and fall off and then we would have to go out and lift them back up on the branch. During the day the mother wouldn’t interfere but if we approached the chicks at dusk the mother would swoop down to warn us off.
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I actually just saw this on television earlier this afternoon. This is one of the best scenes in the movie as far as I’m concerned.
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I have petted the Jamestown, ND Bison many times.
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The statue or the live ones?
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How often do I wish I were
What people call a character;
A ripe and cherubic old chappie
Who lives to make his fellows happy;
With in his eyes a merry twinkle,
And round his lips a laughing wrinkle;
Who radiating hope and cheer
Grows kindlier with every year.
For this ideal let me strive,
And keep the lad in me alive;
Nor argument nor anger know,
But my own way serenely go;
The woes of men to understand,
Yet walk with humour hand in hand;
To love each day and wonder why
Folks are not so jocund as I.
So be you simple, decent, kind,
With gentle heart and quiet mind;
And if to righteous anger stung,
Restrain your temper and your tongue.
Let thought for others be your guide,
And patience triumph over pride . . .
With charity for those who err,
Live life so folks may say you were—
God bless your heart!—A Character.
– Robert W. Service
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Wow!
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*Like!*
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