National Park. The path we were on was bordered by tall green grasses that stood above our knees and swayed in the slight summer breeze.
We’d been hiking since sunrise and had enjoyed seeing the park’s wildlife from a safe distance. Deer and elk had stared at us cautiously before bounding away in the opposite direction. Birds squawked as they flew overhead. They’d given us a wide berth and we’d returned the favor.
That was, until we’d rounded a bend in the trail, emerging from behind one of the trail’s many plateaus, and found ourselves much, much too close to the bison.
“At least it wasn’t a bear,” I said, doing a quick sweep of the area and sighing when there wasn’t a grizzly in sight. “So what do we do? They’re blocking the trail.”
The only way forward was through the bison, and one close encounter was enough for my lifetime.
“Should we turn around? Head back to the trailhead?”
“We’ll never make it back to the car before dark.”
We’d hiked almost seventeen miles today if my watch was correct. On this twenty-mile trail, we only had three to go until we’d reach the end. Three puny miles. Easy, if not for the blockade.
“Remember what I said about bison being majestic?” I asked rhetorically. “I changed my mind.”
Until thirty minutes ago, I’d loved bison. I’d bought a bison stuffy at the gift shop at Old Faithful yesterday. But faced with their sheer size and the fact that if one of the ogres decided to play chase the human, we’d be trampled and stomped to death in seconds, I’d changed my mind.
“I don’t want one of those faces to be the last thing I see,” I told Everly.
“What about bears? I don’t want to be bear food either. At least in the daytime, we can see them coming. I don’t want to be stranded out here in the middle of the night.”
“Shit,” I hissed.
Though the bison had taken us by surprise, we’d been prepared for bears. Everly and I were both packing three cans of bear spray, and we’d been hyper bear-aware with every mile.
I’d take my chances with the bison. “We have to wait for them to move off the trail.”
We could try to walk around them, but neither of us knew the area, and the last thing we needed was to get lost. Like the park ranger had reminded us three times yesterday when we’d told him we were hiking Mary Mountain—stay on the trail.
So here we were. Stuck.
Everly and I had spent hours and hours doing research on trails after she’d convinced me to hike. This particular path wound through the Hayden Valley, and the online descriptions had promised the Yellowstone Plateau’s unique experience. If you wanted to see the heart of the park, this was a famed hike.
Beyond us, the grasslands spread for miles, eventually meeting the mountain foothills. We’d traversed plateaus, lunched by a small lake and had passed wide sections of pinewoods. Through it all, we’d been out in the open wilderness with lots of space to run.
But not a damn place to hide.
Today’s journey had been one of the most exhilarating and terrifying experiences of my life.
Maybe fate had intervened and brought us here. I was about to embark on a new phase in my life and remembering this hike would help me keep things in perspective. If I could face down a one-ton bison and not pee my pants, I could move across the country and build a new life, no sweat.
We stood there, watching the animals meander through the meadow with no care for our urgency. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, and though we were hours from sunset, eventually the light would fade, and we’d become a tasty temptation for a passing grizzly bear.
Or a pack of wolves.
My stomach turned.
“They aren’t leaving,” Everly said.
“Nope.”
The bison herd clustered along the stretch of trail ahead, eating and leaving their shit pies where we’d planned to walk. I’d almost stepped in a ripe one earlier, which should have been my first warning to turn back, but I’d been too busy appreciating the landscape and keeping an eye out for carnivores.
“How fast do you think we can walk slash run seventeen miles?” I asked.
“Fast.” Everly nodded. “Really, really fast.”
“Good. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Amen.” We both spun around, ready to bolt, but froze when we saw something else blocking our path.