American Bullfighting

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I’m sure most of you, if not all of you, have been to Seville or Barcelona for the bullfights. Many of you have been to Pamplona to run with the bulls, at least that’s what you tell us when we do our annual poll on “What I Did With My Summer”. But very few of you tell us I was a contestant in American Bullfighting.

The cowboy in the shot above was a contestant and right about now he wishes he were sitting in the stands of La Maestranza in Seville watching some guy in fancy red pants swirl a cape around to confuse the bull. That cape and those short sticks with steel barbs to stick in the bull to make it madder are some of the main differences between Spanish bullfighting and American bullfighting.

The first difference is our bulls are mad enough already, you don’t want them any madder if you can help it. Remember this is their payback time and they remember that these same cowboys were the ones trying to ride them just a short while ago. If they get the chance to stick it to them they’re going to make the best of it.

Secondly, we don’t use capes or have some other guy on a horse stick big old gaffing hooks into the bull to make it mad and lower its blood count so it’s easier to manage. In  American bullfighting it is the cowboy against the bull with no capes, no sticky pointy things to irritate the bull, just the cowboy with his speed, dexterity and wits against the bull with its 900 lbs. of muscle and long curved horns and owl-ly attitude.

Thirdly, and this is the best part, there’s no dead bull at the end of the fight to drag out of the arena and usually no dead cowboy either. They both get to kiss and make up and do it again when the cowboy feels better. Also our cowboys are grateful that they don’t have to wear those really tight pants and short little jackets with spangles all over them and that hat with the bulbs over their ears that are supposed to look like horns. I mean they’re really glad.

So what’s the point then, some of the more blood-thirsty among you may ask. The point is, this is a cowboy going  into this contest to try and make as much contact with the bull as possible by getting close to it, grabbing its horns, sometimes leaping over the bull as it charges him, all the time trying very hard to avoid the horns of the bull. These horns, which have had the points filed down so there is less trauma to the cowboy and to prevent the bull from having nightmares and bad feelings from having perforated the cowboy, are still deadly appendages to deal with. If you think that this lessens the bulls ability to provide pain and suffering to the cowboy think again. Imagine getting stuck by something about an inch in diameter that is being pushed very forcefully into your nether regions by a 900 lb. animal that doesn’t like you and that wants to do that sticking and pushing as many times as it can, with the cowboy of course, trying to avoid this and you get a small idea of how dangerous this whole deal is.

That’s American bullfighting. A man with his wits and courage trying to outwit a huge angry animal with its muscle and horns. The match is much more good-natured than its Spanish counter part and both contestants leave the arena with the feeling they’ve done their best. The best cowboy goes home with a beautiful silver belt buckle and hopefully some money, and the best bull gets bragging rights back in the bullpen. That’s a lot better than getting dragged out of the arena behind a horse with your ear cut off. For either contestant.

Ghosts In The Darkness

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Many people do not know this but buffalo do not emit light. They do not reflect light. In fact they absorb light. What one sees when one comes around a corner late at night is not the neon green eyes of the usual grass nibblers as you would if these were normal creatures, instead there is nothing, just a dark shape perhaps slightly darker than the surrounding light, a night-time shadow, a ghost in the darkness. They loom in the roadway, an almost formless mass that represents a 2000 lb. animal blocking your passage, somewhat irritated that you would be disturbing it as it goes about its life.

They also do not understand motor driven vehicles. This is not a proven fact yet but it appears that they do not see vehicles as a mechanical conveyance at all but simply as another large animal that needs to be confronted and dealt with. The Director has a large imprint, call it a dent if you must, in his old Dodge pickup,The Enola Gay, that was placed there by a bull who apparently didn’t like the color blue. That’s the only reason we can come up with that would explain why it would suddenly charge across the roadway and attempt to gore the Enola Gay to death. During circumstances such as these one doesn’t try to have meaningful dialogue with the enraged beast, there is no attempt made to explain that this is going to result in increased insurance premiums, body work, and some inconvenience, one simply drives away glad you were not the one with a big dent in your ass. They do not care that you may be weary and just want to get home after a long day of photographing them when they are visible. Note: Sunlight makes them visible and they are much easier to see so you don’t have problems seeing them during the daytime. But night, that’s a different story.

They wander through their lives completely oblivious to the needs and demands of humans. This is why they do what appears to be mind-boggling stupid things when you least expect it. Buffalo fall into the category of things and people that do not keep regular hours. This makes them unpredictable. They will leave waist-high grass, jump into the frigid water of the closest river, crossing it to eat the waist-high grass on the other side. They will stand placidly by the side of the road as you pass only to leap out into the road and stick their horn in your radiator the next time they see you. They will lie down in the middle of the road immediately around a hairpin corner because the asphalt is warm. Even going 45 mph, or less, the speed limit in most of the park, it is difficult to stop a vehicle on such short notice. Usually they will not even get up after nearly being struck. They require that you back up and go around them. One learns to drive very cautiously in buffalo territory.

Buffalo are travelers. They’re like Deadheads. One place is never good enough. They’re soon off to hear the next concert even if its exactly like the one they just heard. They have timetables that they do not share with the rest of the denizens of the park, human or otherwise. Migratory schedules that are important enough to them that they will set out at any time, cross any obstacles to get to a place that looks exactly like the place that they just left. That is what is happening in the picture above. This small herd was feeding on the new grass of the meadows in the Madison river canyon when the bell rang and they immediately started up the roadway through the Gibbon falls canyon to the lush meadows at the top of the pass. In the old days before macadam they had trails that they would walk in, single file, nose to tail like circus elephants but then humans came along and built them these wonderful wide flat trails that they could walk ten abreast on, and they use them. In fact they own them and only grudgingly share them if at all.

One has not lived until one has followed the herd the eight miles or so from the bottom of the Gibbon pass to the top where the Gibbon meadows are. Buffalo walk at about 2-3 miles per hour, less if they have calves along, and they always have calves along, so if you are fortunate enough to get behind the herd  be prepared to inch along behind it, carefully watching the temperature gauge on your dashboard, wallowing in the delightful scent of buffalo until they get to the top. Some people become so enraged by this that they blow their horns and try and push the herd by encroaching on their space. This is never a good idea. Buffalo can be very vindictive. Repair bills are the least of your problems if you try to impose your will on a buffalo herd. Just a word of warning.

This night everyone was lucky. There was a car in the lead full of people who had never seen a buffalo before even though they had been watching them all day, so traffic was at a crawl to begin with when everyone rounded the curve and came upon these ghostly travelers. You can get a small sense of the chaos involved when the cars slam on their brakes and the herd erupts into a darting frenzy, trying to make sense of what is occurring , protecting the wild-eyed calves, and maintaining their forward motion. This is a ‘good news’ photo as if you notice the direction we’re traveling and the direction the buffalo are moving, we will be through this buffalo jam as soon as they pass by us. The folks behind them traveling in the same direction however are in for a long night.

If you visit Yellowstone and you find yourself a long way from your lodging just relax, don’t try and race home, take your time, and be ever vigilant so you don’t meet the ghosts in the darkness.

Introspection

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The Rut has started. It’s time to get back out there and start collecting cows. His antlers are in their prime and polished until the tines look like old Ivory. He’s in the best shape he’s been in for years. His coat is glossy, his voice is in good form and the cows are down at the other end of the meadow just waiting. He’s looked the new crop of young bulls over and he’s not worried. Yet he’s just not feeling it. It’s cool here in the afternoon shade of the aspen and although the nights have been cold it’s still hot during the day. It’s too soon to get all worked up.

Maybe he’ll let things get started before he joins the fray. Let some of the younger bulls do the work and gather up his cows before he goes out and runs them off. Or maybe he’ll just wait until he feels the need to go out and do battle again. Right now it feels pretty good to just stand here and watch the sunlight play over the long grass. He might even lie down here and just think about things for a while. That sounds like a plan, there’s plenty of time yet.