Buffalo Moon

Buffalo Moon

Our final stop is at Theodore Roosevelt National Park.  It encompasses part of North Dakota’s Badlands. We’ve had a busy day and question whether or not the ranger station will be open.  We move from mountain time to central time about two minutes before we enter the park and in just the blink of eye we lose an hour.  Lucky us!  It’s 30 minutes before they close.  A few quick ideas from the ranger, a map, and an interpretive brochure and we’re headed 14 miles to the lookout at the end of the road.

The park brochure tells us that the Badlands are an area of low hills that were “formed 60 million years ago when streams carried eroded material eastward from the young Rocky Mountains and deposited them in these vast lowlands.”  60 million years ago dinosaurs roamed the earth.  Mother Nature has been working on these hills a very long time.  What we see today are a series of small rounded hills nestled and layered together.  The hills are nearly bare and the bands of geologic deposits are stacked one upon another clear to the top of the hill.  One of Mother Nature’s gifts was to create ‘slumps’.  As water flowed at the base of the hill it caused enough erosion to wash out part of the base and it ‘slumped’ downhill just enough to create other small rounds or protrusions that look like giant, carved horse hooves lined up along the base.  It’s a bit like a jigsaw puzzle and when we look closely we can see where the slumps would fit onto the mountain if we just match the bands.

What we see are layers of sediment deposits piled one upon the other in a near monotone with shades of grey, brown, and orange.  This blends nicely into the surrounding landscape of prairie grasses, scraggly brush and juniper.  Some of the layers are made of harder material than the layers above and below.  With time erosion has erased enough of the deposits above and below to show these layers like little shelves or benches. 

Shortly after we pass a sign saying, “Buffalo are dangerous.  View at a distance.”  we come to several buffalo at a scenic pullout.  Some have their heavy heads bowed seemingly content to chew the grass that rims the parking area.  The sun has been out all day and has heated up the blacktop. Two massive buffalo recline in regal repose collecting that heat so as to remember warmer days when the snow flies.  Wanting a picture, Jack drives closer and closer.  I’m surprised he doesn’t run over the tail of the beast.  Rolling down the window he pokes his camera about two feet from the buffalo’s head.  “MOVE THE CAR!” I say, ever so gently and with increasing alarm.  “I’m fine.  It’s fine,” he replies trying to calm me down.  As the buffalo slowly rises up from the blacktop Jack winces.  “MOVE THE CAR NOW!” I repeat.  Dropping the camera on his lap and putting the car in gear we roll away. 

“You were startled weren’t you?” I asked.  “No I wasn’t.” he insists.  We go back and forth about this for a while and he finally admits that he was surprised, but not startled.  Whatever. 

As we continue up to the overlook we see wild turkeys, big horned sheep, deer and raptors.  The overlook gives us a sweeping view of the distant hills and the Little Missouri snaking through the valley.  We return to walk a small trail along the base of one of the canyons.  A big buffalo pie sits at the head of the trail. I read on the sign in log that a previous hiker left the trail because of the presence of buffalo.  I panic.  I get a bit worked up about the possibility of encountering a buffalo on foot. Jack is flitting about capturing the fleeting photos of the day.  My nerves still jitter, but then I tell myself to just feel the power and history of the buffalo and my fear is gone.  I enjoy the remainder of the trail.

We’ve had a full day.  A three quarter moon is rising over the hills to the east.  Behind us the sunset is starting to color the clouds and band the sky in pinks and purples.  The hills absorb a hint of color as we head to Montana for our B & B in growing darkness.  This area is so rural and towns are so small that the road is quickly enveloped in total darkness.  Fog stripes along the side of the road and yellow center lines show the way.