Train Wreck Number Two

Well, holy shit.

The below photo was taken after a long 24 hours, as we had our second train wreck this past weekend. (Our first train wreck involved George, our original ranch truck, burning to the ground this past winter. Just look for the photo of the truck on fire in our Instagram feed to read more about George’s traumatic passing.)

As for this one, we were planning to move the bison across the dirt road Saturday evening. Our pasture moves have been become so easy with the bison that I became overconfident.

I figured some electrified tape and Sarah and the kids in Sarah’s truck at one end of the road would be all we’d need.

I was wrong.

The pasture move started out perfectly. The bison were following me, and a few walked out the gate just like they were supposed to.

But the gates weren’t directly across from each other, and the bison had to make two turns. The lead bison stopped halfway, and there was clearly some confusion in the lead animals on where to go. 

Next thing I knew the bison were going different directions, one broke the electrified tape, I stopped breathing, over 100 bison headed across the road into an unfenced pasture, and I almost blacked out with panic.

I jumped in Russ and made a bad situation worse by trying to stop the bison from going farther into the unfenced pasture. That just got them more excited, and they started running.

I eventually turned around and headed back to where Sarah and the kids were. I was so nervous it was hard to form thoughts and get them to exit my mouth.

We were in unchartered territory, Russ had a flat tire, there was no cell reception to make a phone call, and the sun was slowly sinking in the western sky.

I said a certain four-letter word that rhymes with puck a lot, and we made a quick plan. Sarah would take Otto and Greta and tape off the north end of the road. I’d go to our neighbors (the amazing, amazing Tracy and Rhoda) and make some calls.

I talked to a friend / mentor / colleague and got some great advice. We decided to leave the bison alone for the night to calm down. Based on where they were – at a dead-end gate on a dirt road with fencing on both sides – and how unsettled they were, the risk of making things even worse right before dark was too great.

In addition to the north end, we’d tape off the south end of the road as well, and I’d sleep in the back of Sarah’s truck on the shoulder of the road so I could explain what was going on to anyone that drove down the road during the night. 

Forest then showed up out of the blue. I had called and left him a voicemail. Turned out he was at a wedding. Talk about loyalty and a big heart. Forest agreed with the plan and strung more tape across the two ends of the road. We made a plan to meet at 7:30 the next morning and go from there. 

I then headed into the ranch house. I was unbelievably stressed, and I was extremely mad at myself, as all of this was 100% my fault. 

Sarah and Greta went to sleep, and Otto stayed up with me to put together his birthday wish list. I couldn’t stop thinking about the bison, wondering what they were doing, hoping they were slowly walking back to the ranch – or at least staying put at the end of the road. 

I consumed some beer and some single malt Scotch (an Islay malt, in case you were wondering), and Otto and I continued to put together his birthday list. Talking to Otto helped put things in perspective and get me out of my head a bit. Otto is also a total character, so chatting with him got me smiling. Talking to Otto at the kitchen table of the ranch house in the middle of a massive, massive shitstorm was special and unique – and something I won’t soon forget. 

Otto then went to bed. 

Knowing sleep would be difficult that night, I sat at the kitchen table a bit longer. Then I threw some pillows and blankets in the back of Sarah’s truck, parked it on the shoulder of the road outside our driveway, and went to sleep. 

Not a Top Ten night’s sleep for me, but I got some sleep. Multiple times in the night I thought I heard the bison walking on the road. I was always wrong. 

Dark gave way to light in the morning, and I got up. I looked to the west, and I thought I saw the bison. I got really excited. I then put on my glasses and looked more closely, and there they were, grazing along the hillside not far away. The relief was amazing.

I got out of the truck and took another look. Were those really bison? I looked and looked and looked, and I realized it was an optical illusion (or a wishful hallucination), and they were just big sagebrush plants in the early morning light. Puck! The stress came back hard, but it was light out, and we had all day to get this sorted out. 

I grabbed some coffee and drove up the road. Good news and bad news. The good news was that the bison were in the same spot. The bad news was that the bison were in the same spot. 

Forest showed up, we threw two old bags of range cake on the back of my UTV (a treat that bison love and can be helpful in moving them), and we headed towards the bison. The plan was for Forest to slowly push them from the back, and I’d slowly lead them from the front with the cake. The plan worked for a mile until we got to the unfenced area of the ranch, and the bison started spreading out.

We then realized we needed to just slowly push them back to the fenced part of the ranch and into the northernmost gate. The idea is to do it slowly, push them where you want them to go, but have them think they’re deciding where they’re going. 

With Forest’s experience doing this with cattle – and using a fence along the road to help us – we slowly, slowly moved the bison just over a mile and got them through the gate. Closing the gate door was an incredible feeling of relief. 

But there were two bison – a cow and a calf – that had turned around and run the other way when we were about halfway to the gate, and we decided to just let them go, assuming they wouldn’t go far and would eventually want to get back with the herd.

Forest left and would come back later, and I took a nap. When I got up, I went up to the gate and – sure enough – the cow and calf that had turned around were standing at the gate waiting to rejoin the herd. 

I tried a few times to open the gate to let them in and keep the others back, but it was hopeless. And after the mess I created the night before, I realized I should just stop and wait for Forest. 

I went back to the house, and then Tracy showed up on his ATV and said that Rhoda had called him at the shop and said I needed help with the last two. We went up to the gate, I opened it and moved the bison back, and Tracy did a wide loop and slowly moved the cow and calf towards the gate – and they trotted right in. 

Gate closed. Huge relief. Holy shit. 

It was one hell of an ordeal, it ultimately ended well, I learned some seriously invaluable lessons along the way, it was a rite of passage (one that hopefully never happens again), and – most importantly – it was another reminder about how lucky and grateful we are to have friends and neighbors like Forest, Tracy, and Rhoda.