At the turn of the century, our nation's 26th president, Theodore Roosevelt, hunted buffalo and bison in the bad lands of North Dakota. The bad lands is a desert, with hills looking of an ash and beige color, with rocks, trees, and some even huge and of a flat at the top and hilly downward style. Yesterday on the 19th of October we got in the jeep and rode for about 20 minutes to the bad lands. We stopped in a tiny little old town with old buildings below a mountain, and went into a small little building and looked around. We went into a one room museum and learned about Roosevelt's time at the bad lands, the bad conditions, extreme cold, and constant troubles. We learned about ranches he bought, and that the time in the bad lands made him to love wild life and want it to be protected. It was very interesting.
We then saw a 13 minute presentation, and I'm glad we watched it. At the gift shop, we got a book on Roosevelt's time in the North Dakota badlands, wanting to dig deeper and know more about it. We then went to the restroom, and prepared to go on the park's 37 mile (hour and a half) scenic drive.
We drove out of the town, followed signs in, and prepared to see the most scenic. And it was. We saw bright dusty beige hills and deserts, and there were some cotton wood trees on those too. We saw no towns, no trees, just bad lands. It was desert looking, but cold at the same time, sunny, but I felt no warmth. It was amazing, seeing just flat desert hills for miles, and seeing huge mountain looking hills with a black or beige color. Dad said the land is good for nothing really, with it's unexpectant weather and poor soil. They have found oil in parts, he said, but it is generally bad lands. It may be bad, but it is beautiful! Amazing! Spectacular! Wonderful! And, in parts it looks like you are in Mars. As we went through the hills and down and up 'em, we just took in these crazy sights. Grass was covering the giants, and interesting and ever changing shapes captured the horizon! The foreground and background was cool.
While traveling, we were very lucky to see buffaloes moving on a bluff overlooking us. The huge beasts with their small horns and four chunky feet were breathtaking to see. As we passed by, I thought myself very lucky. Throughout the trip, I would be a little more luckier...
We were on a straight road looking around, and we found ourselves by a field cut across by the road. We saw many holes with dirt piled up by it. They were mysterious, and I found myself intrigued. What were they? Why were they here? What animal were they home too?
A small creature like that of a hamster but thinner and taller whizzed across the road! The car screeched to a stop and the smell of burnt tire filled the air. I saw little brown things in the little field, quickly scampering on four feet and diving in the holes. Not one, two, or three, but 20 at a time. I was so confused to what they were, and then a thought from my past popped up in my mind. In Arizona on a trip with my grandparents we saw those animals in a wildlife museum in a small glass container. What did the museum people say it was? A prairie dog! That's what it was! And now we were seeing the little creatures in their natural habitat, right before us! How strange were the little things!
Then some of them stood up on their two feet and started making a noise, a little squeal of a high sound, sort of like a cat's meow as it is abused by it's rival species (the dogs). They all got in their holes, running, crawling, screaming. When people say, "They ran for the hills!", they should say they ran for the holes! And run they did, or rather scamper. We got out of the car, taking videos and pictures of the more braver ones closer to the road, but still nervous and ready to go. Over the course of that day, we saw some by trees, some by rivers, some down ditches, and overall, a lot. We saw like 3,000, and when I say that I am NOT exaggerating. I know modern man is a skeptical creature, doubting whether my credibility is the truth, but I can promise you we saw close to that number.
Anyway, you would think how lucky we thought we were now, but more delights were still to arrive. Down the hillside, right by the road, we saw a tall white and black spotted wild horse, just minding it's own business, chewing the cud (grass). By it and below it were solid brown horses, and one chestnut mare. It was so cool!
We went up a hill, and I could see something looming farther up. More than one. Two...no three! Or was it four? Five? I'm sure it's no more than six... well, there's another on the hill... what is that? Wait... Is that...No, it can't be... Wait, it is! These thoughts were in my mind as I sat in the jeep in sheer disbelief as I looked on at least seven buffalo blocking the tiny road up the hill. I blinked, and then blinked again. I slapped myself in the face, and then pinched myself. Am I dreaming? I did feel a little drowsy earlier... "Look at that! That's amazing!" Dad exclaimed. I was thinking that too. The buffalo had brown fur from the neck down to the back, and then most had a bare hide from that way down, of a brownish-black color, and all had small horns, a fat face, big eyes, and four stocky feet. We got almost halfway up the hill when one turned to us and moved one of his feet back in the dirt many times, as if to say, "Don't mess with me." Then that one put his head back down. Eventually, we opened the top off our soft roofed jeep, and we stood up on our seats, taking pictures and video taping. It was so cool, but they were still blocking the way. Good thing there was another path around them.
Now, we were the luckiest people that day, but when we passed a huge field the Irish gave us a blessing once more. We saw about 20 buffalo eating the grass in the field, sleeping on their sides, or just sitting down. Young, old, male, female, big, little; they were all there! It was so funny, and we were SO close. Some were right by the road. I was so delighted!
We saw other prairie dogs and horses and buffalo on the trip, but in smaller amounts. We rode back to that town, went to the restroom in the national park again, and ate lunch at a small diner. We then went back to the R.V., went to the Trapper's restaurant, and ate a hamburger. Incidentally enough, we got the same waitress we got the last night, and I learned her name to be Deirdra. We saw a lot of hunters and truckers in that place.
I had a good sleep.
I think I might grow a mustache like Theodore,
Andrew.
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