Glaring, a massive bison bull strutted toward me while I snapped photo after photo. “Roll up the window!” my spouse yelled. Reluctantly, I did as told. The bull snorted and turned to threaten the next human. Around me, other drivers faced off against a squad of equally fearsome bulls. The line of cars lengthened on either side of the road, stuck in a bison traffic jam. No one dared honk a horn for fear of setting off the giant, shaggy guards. In the center of it all, gazing around with curiosity and wonder, stood a small fuzzy golden calf.
Who knows how long the face-off would have endured? Finally, the calf’s mother took the situation into her own hands (hooves, that is); she walked into the road and nudged her little one to a grassy area on the side. On spindly legs, the calf trotted after her, oblivious to the problem he had caused. The team of bulls swaggered after them, releasing the cars to continue on their way.
Theodore Roosevelt National Park in Medora, North Dakota may well be the most exciting, unusual place in the national park system. Home to roaming herds of bison, the park bursts with a vitality befitting its namesake. Though set in a region known as “the badlands,” I encountered a landscape that conjured up fairy castles more than outlaws. A labyrinth of candy-colored mountains — ribbons of creamy sandstone with stripes of pink and green sediment — created a magical backdrop for wild west adventures.
My first stop of the day was at the South Unit Visitor Center just inside the park perimeter. Rangers armed me with maps and information about the local flora and fauna. A small museum featured exhibits on the history, nature, and geology of the region.
Theodore Roosevelt’s first home in the West, a small hunting lodge called Maltese Cross Cabin, sits just behind the visitor center. With no one around, I spent some time exploring the cabin; I walked where Roosevelt once walked and enjoyed the views as he once did. Before arriving at the park, I knew nothing of Theodore Roosevelt’s time in the West and the important influence his experiences here would have on him and the nation. He later said, “I would not have been president had it not been for my experience in North Dakota.”
Roosevelt first came to the Dakota Territory in 1883 to hunt bison. The skinny, bespectacled young man became enamored with the cowboy life and bought a small ranch. He hired a ranch manager, constructed this one-and-a-half story cabin of ponderosa pine logs, and bought a herd of cattle. His ranch became known by the cattle brand, an eight-pointed Maltese Cross. For a while, he split his time between his home in New York and the Dakotas.
On Valentine’s Day 1884, Roosevelt tragically lost both his young wife, Alice, and his mother. Heartbroken, he sought solace in the Dakota wilderness. He even considered making ranching his sole career. Roosevelt bought a second, larger ranch, which he named Elkhorn, and added a thousand head of cattle. Eventually, politics beckoned. He sold the ranch in 1890 to his managers and returned to New York and public life.
While in the Dakotas, Roosevelt wrote three books about his adventures in the West. They became his treatise on conservation. Though an avid hunter, Roosevelt bemoaned the loss of habitat and wildlife he witnessed. He predicted a collapse of the cattle industry because of ranchers’ unsustainable practices, particularly overgrazing.
In the Dakotas, he helped form the Boone and Crockett Club, one of the first fair-hunting organizations, and established a stockmen’s association to help preserve the region’s natural resources. As Governor of New York and President of the United States, Roosevelt made conservation a key policy. During his presidency, he protected nearly 230 million acres of land as national forests, parks, monuments, and reserves. Small wonder this national park bears his name.
A 36-mile loop drive through the park, with plenty of pull-offs for wildlife and scenery photo-ops, brought me closer to nature. The bison traffic jam occurred about two-thirds of the way through my journey. Along most of the drive, I passed small bands of bison grazing safely in the distance. At one dramatic junction, a large herd grazed high on a mountain ridge with a magnificent overlord bull standing on the peak. I foolishly thought this glorious moment would be my bison highlight!
Small wildlife colonies abounded as well. Rabbits hid in shadows and hopped across the plains as my car approached. I encountered several elaborate prairie dog towns, whose residents posed for photos far more happily than the bison — at least as long as I remained in my car. When I got out of the car trying for close-ups, they quickly scooted into the nearest burrow.
Hiking trails twined through the park. I chose one that traveled along the Little Missouri River. From atop a bluff, I looked out at the river winding its way through the painted desert. The river had carved a deep valley in the candy-colored mountains. The sand along its banks glittered in pinks and greens. As I contemplated the beauty, a scene right out of the Old West materialized. Across the river, a herd of wild horses rose majestically over the crest of a bluff. Their dark outlines contrasted sharply with the pale blue sky.
Here at this moment, I felt Roosevelt’s presence far more strongly than in his hunting lodge. Gratitude flooded me. His foresight preserved this land and the stunning wildlife it supports for me and for all the generations of Americans to come.
So beautiful. Thanks for sharing