The Kindness of a Stranger

Straight out of Deadwood, South Dakota I was heading to Vore Buffalo Jump. Since I was a young lad, I had a fascination with the American icon, the Buffalo. I'm not sure where the love originated from, but I'm sure it stemmed from either “Dances with Wolves'' and watching Kevin Costner on his hands and knees with a fake hump and making horns with his fingers, while attempting to communicate with the natives, “Tatanka.” Perhaps the heart wrenching movie “Radio Flyer” with Elijah Wood, where the two brothers were saddened by the lone Buffalo. Or maybe it was the stories I heard in school about how the American icon was almost wiped off the face of the earth from commercial hunting. Vore Buffalo Jump is located just off I-90 in Wyoming, just west of the South Dakota border. Over a hill, to the west of Vore Buffalo Jump was my favorite rest stop. The rest stop that had given me quarter multiple times. I had been in that area and missed it every time. 

I was unaware of the Vore Buffalo Jump until early of 2021 when I was reading Steven Rinella's book, “American Buffalo: In Search of a Lost Icon.” After reading about the Vore Buffalo Jump, I Googled the location and my jaw hit the floor. How did I miss this?! Had I missed the signs? Was it because it was dark? Or because I was tired? Nope. There is one small sign on I-90 and it is extremely easy to miss with weary and laden eyes. While in Deadwood, sightseeing and enjoying the whiskey, I had lost track of time. Vore Buffalo Jump closed at 6:00 pm and it was 5 till as I was within site of my destination. I wasn't going to make it on time and I was going to miss the opportunity to see this historic sight. This archeological site is where Plains Native Americans had once stampeded Bison into a sinkhole where the Bison would plummet 40 feet to their slow and painful death. This process had been practiced for centuries, making it far easier for the Natives to harvest the meat, hide, bones, and whatever they needed to survive the harsh seasons of the plains. 

With minutes to spare, the Wyoming sky turned dark on me. The wind began to blow, howl, the barometric pressure increased, and the temperature began to drop. I know storms and I knew I had plenty of time before the storm hit. The question is, do I have enough time to see the Vore Buffalo Jump? Or am I too late?

As I pulled up the important archeological site, I saw a young man. A man I can only assume to be of Lakota descent on account of his hair, and skin tone shutting down the booth. I have met many friendly Lakota in my travels and they all seem to have a certain aura to them. He could have been Crow, both Tribes are in proximity of the site. I got out and asked him if I was too late. He said he was just about to shut everything down for the evening, but if I make it fast, I can run down into the pit and see everything. I asked him if he needed any money, he kindly replied, “Your smile and enthusiasm are enough for me.” As I ran, more like hobbling, on account of my sore legs, down the spiraling sidewalk, into the pit, I could see some fossils and remnants of the olden days. Days that your survival depended on whether or not you had a good hunting season. I saw remnants of what America was once like. I saw remnants of an American icon that once spanned from the eastern shoreline of America, to Kentucky, to Iowa, to Texas and reaching into Montana. Where the herds spanned for as far as the eye could see. Where you could hear the hooves of a stampede from miles away and feel them shake the earth like tectonic plates colliding from miles away as well. 

I made my time quick in that 40 foot hole. I knew the young man was waiting on me. As I was heading back to my vehicle, he was heading down the pit to lock things up. Once I saw him, I said, “Dude, thank you so much. I really do appreciate you doing this for me. I came from Ohio and this was one of the things I REALLY wanted to see.” With a big grin and a certain level of calmness in his voice, “I'm glad I could be a part of this memory for you. Where are you heading now? There's a storm coming and it looks like it will be a good one.” I told him I plan on setting up camp at the rest stop down the road. As the wind twirled his long black hair around his head and shoulders, he gently nodded and with a gentle grin, said, “Well, you be safe, and have fun on your adventures. The spirit is with you.” 

I should have asked him what he meant about “the spirit.” Was it just something he said? Or did he mean it with intent. Did he have an idea of what I was doing out west? I'm certainly not the only person he has come across like myself. Could he tell I was genuine and was here for a specific reason? Or was the spirit really with me? I've been to a lot of places in this country.  I find that Wyoming has the nicest people I have ever met. I'm certain it's on account they don't live there, they survive there. I think it's on account they don't live on the planet Earth. I think it's because they live with the planet Earth. They coexist with Mother Nature. 

I was fortunate that day. That day I had gotten to spend my time, hiking the game trails that Wild Bill Hickock and many others had taken, seeking fortune through bloodshed and with gold, or perhaps seeking a new life. I had also gotten to spend most of the day hiking among Bison, like the Bald Eagle, a true American icon. I had also gotten to see Vore Buffalo Jump and was on the receiving end of a kind young man. As I write this, I come to find that I am even more fortunate to have been granted access to see the site that day. Vore Buffalo Jump is now, permanently closed. Had that young man not been so kind to me, I may have never been able to witness the magic and beauty of that site. Being able to see that archeological site helped finish the experience I had earlier that day. Little did I know, that wasn't the end of my eventful day and he wasn't the last kind individual living with Mother Nature and surviving I would encounter that day. God, I love Wyoming.