The Tantanka in the Badlands

In April of 2012, I decided to go on a vacation. I took a 10 day road trip to and from my home in Northern New Jersey to the Badlands in South Dakota. I chose to drive on state roads rather than interstate highways so I could see the country I was born and raised in, but had little knowledge of outside of the East Coast I grew up on and the Deep South my father hailed from.  I also had a secondary agenda: to experience the Badlands for myself.

I had heard many tales of them from my close friend and his brother, who were both born on Pine Ridge Reservation, which lay just outside the Badlands National Park. Their childhood tales and creation stories had sparked my curiosity, and now I burned to go and see this place, see if it had a message of its own for me. When I got to the park, I was stunned by the beauty and barrenness of the landscape. I was also disconcerted by the lack of trees. The land seemed to possess a completely different kind of energy. I tried to ground myself and felt my own energy bouncing back, as if rejecting the connection.

At several points, I got out of my car and walked. I tried to get prairie dogs to let me pet them. No luck, but they had no issue with chirruping at me from their holes. Then, I saw him. A huge buffalo, meandering off the prairie onto the road. He approached me and my car. He seemed curious. He came so close I could have touched him. Suddenly aware of how huge his horns were, I backed away slowly and put my car between myself and him. He didn't seem concerned by this and stepped up to the front of the car. Maybe he had a message for me? I introduced myself and asked him just that.

"My nose is itchy. Scratch it please." was the response. He had some snot dripping from one nostril, which he shook off with a sharp, sudden exhalation.  I told him I was worried he might try to gore me with his horns if I accidentally scratched too much or too fast. He exhaled again, seeming to be irritated by my fear...but agreed he may try to do that. He said that was all he had wanted to say, and headed for a wooden post a few feet away. He could scratch his nose with that instead. It was the most anti-climatic, but yet one of the most exciting, animal experiences I've had. :-)