Herd Mentality

A bold new fundraiser for Yellowstone. 

Your lungs burn and your eyes water as you sprint past swarms of onlookers screaming in terrified exhilaration. Barreling past storefronts and skidding around corners, you can almost feel the breath of a dozen one-ton beasts, hot on your neck. You don’t dare look back—the menacing snorts and grunts are getting closer. The finish line, you figure, is a quarter-mile away. There—if you make it—you’ll peel off into safety, and the festivities will continue, with bullfighting, drinking, and other tomfoolery running late into the night.

No, this isn’t Pamplona, Spain. It’s Gardiner, Montana, and the Running of the Bison—good ol’ American entertainment, brought to you by budget-starved Yellowstone National Park. The first seasonal event, held this past spring, brought in nearly a quarter-million dollars. Thousands of locals and tourists stood on the streets, quivering with excitement as they awaited the ceremonial musket shot, marking the start of a half-mile stampede to the Roosevelt Arch.

Yellowstone employees hope the event will stampede its way into the hearts, and medical records, of thrill-seekers everywhere. The Park Service is counting on the extra cash.

In the crowd somewhere was park ranger Tara “Bull” Ayedeah, who conceived the event last December, when Yellowstone was facing massive budget cuts. She’s the Park’s resident bison wrangler, who got her nickname after scaring off a rogue bull in the Mammoth picnic area with a buffalo hat and fake tongue. While clearing out her desk in anticipation of a layoff, she came across a stack of articles about bison vs. tourist incidents. In that moment, she realized something: most tourists don’t accidentally get gored; contrary to all logic, they seem to actively seek it out, by deliberately approaching the wild and unpredictable animals.

That’s when Ayedeah had a stroke of genius—or maybe it was just a regular stroke. Why not give the people what they clearly wanted: a Park-sanctioned opportunity to get up-close and personal with America’s national mammal? And why not make some money to compensate for the looming budget shortage? She ran into the main office, where her coworkers were also clearing off their desks, and pitched her idea to resounding calls of support.

“Yes, it’s a bit absurd,” Ayedeah admitted, “but so is firing maintenance workers and expecting park rangers to pick up the slack. Most of us have college degrees, for chrissake—not to mention our actual jobs. Are we supposed to scrub pit toilets on Friday night?”

After going on a lengthy diatribe about the real sources of government waste—endless mill levies, pencil-pushing middle managers, and pointless “cone-work” by the Montana Department of Transportation—Ayedeah returned to the topic at hand. “Besides, if a few brave souls have to dodge a snorting freight train of American majesty so the rest of us can enjoy a clean visitor’s center, so be it.” Necessity is the mother of invention, after all. And this particular invention is wearing Carhartts, a cowboy hat, and sprinting for dear life.

The idea itself is simple: with the opening gunshot, a herd of angry bison tears out of a penned enclosure and charges down the streets, in hot pursuit of individuals who voluntarily sign up be chased. Last year there were only 17 entrants, mostly ultra-runners who thought the buffalo were described figuratively. But this summer the numbers are expected to be in the hundreds. Several former collegiate running backs have formed a team, which is currently expected to win at five-to-one odds, according to the off-track bookies in Belgrade.

Most tourists don’t accidentally get gored; contrary to all logic, they actively seek it out, deliberately approaching the wild and unpredictable animals.

The first male and female runners to make it to the arch are crowned “Herd Bull” and “Lead Cow,” although the latter title is being reconsidered, as last spring’s winner, Ellie Truskolaski, had been overweight in middle school and experienced PTSD when the crowd chanted her newfound title at the award ceremony. “I swear I saw Tommy LaRue out there in the crowd, sneering,” she said later, tearing up as she recalled the traumatic event. “He was the worst, used to call me ‘Endomorphic Ellie’ and ‘Colossal Kolaski’ in 6th-grade biology.”

Each victor is awarded a genuine Yellowstone bison skull. All finishers receive a 50-percent discount on an annual Park pass, and if nobody makes it—a likely outcome for this summer’s event, as it’s mating season for the bison and the bulls will be extremely aggressive—the “Last Man Standing” prize is a lifetime handicap pass to the entire Park.

As they did for the first event, Bozeman Spirits will donate 10 cases of 150-proof bourbon, Buffalo Chase, to be gifted to runners the morning of the race. “The big guys over at Buffalo Trace have been trying to stop us with a trademark lawsuit,” said distribution director Emma Tater, “but we’re doing this as a favor to the folks at the starting line. Those crazy bastards need all help they can get, easing the pain of broken ribs, bruised egos, and shattered dreams.”

Not everyone is amicable toward the event, however. A national bison-rights advocacy group called Horned Organisms Really Need You (HORNY) is pushing back, though their issue has little to do with the bison. “It’s fraud, abuse, and waste of taxpayer dollars to dedicate federal employee time to wrangling the animals needed,” said executive director Lee Bertarian, as he took a break between golf holes on a members-only course near Bozeman. “We’d rather see the event privatized, with revenue helping to level out putting greens in Greater Yellowstone.” Already, HORNY followers are planning an insurrection to stop this year’s Running of the Bison—although another group, Buffalo Vengeance Alliance, intends to counter-protest. “If nothing else, this event gives the bison a way to get back at their tormentors,” said Tre Hugghar. “Imagine if we could drop a few Department of Livestock yahoos in there, maybe with sprained ankles? That spectacle alone would draw thousands more supporters, especially from Bozeman, Missoula, and San Francisco.”

Why not give the people what they clearly wanted: a Park-sanctioned opportunity to get up-close and personal with America’s national mammal?

Another group is calling bullshit, so to speak, altogether. “New event? We’ve been doing the same damn thing at the Flyin’ D for years,” asserts William Frederick Cody VII. What started as a hazing ritual for new ranch hands became a proving ground for the older veterans, to show that they still had some grit. “Now we all do it every spring,” Cody says. “Unlike those Pamplona pansies and Gardiner geeks, most of us run buck-naked and drunk.”

Despite the controversy, Yellowstone employees hope the event will stampede its way into the hearts, and medical records, of thrill-seekers everywhere. The Park Service is counting on the extra cash. Stay tuned for the full lineup of events, including bareback buffalo riding and drinking games. Word on the street is that next year’s competition will include a Running of the Red Dogs for those 12 and under (which has been staunchly opposed by Parents United to Stop Stupid Youths, a.k.a., PUSSY), and wild-cow-milking for those seeking even more of a rush. American Prairie has expressed interest in an event of their own, for the trail-running crowd. Ultra-running champion Kilian Jornet is reported to be in Tanzania now, investigating the feasibility of running across northern Africa with a herd of migrating wildebeest.

For now, lace up your shoes, update your will, grab a bottle of Buffalo Chase, and practice your sprinting for this signature Yellowstone event, straight from the streets of Spain. With any luck, the bathrooms will be clean.

To register for this year’s Running of the Bison, visit RunForYourLife.com. The first 100 sign-ups receive a free three-day Park pass to help train for the event.