Getting Stuck in a Bison Herd: A safari-like trip to Minneopa State Park
This past weekend, one of my best friends drove to Mankato so we could celebrate her birthday by fulfilling a childhood dream to go to the Mall of America. I was happy to oblige. While yes, it's just a mall, you can't help but feel that little kid inside of you getting giddy at the sight of the massive Lego figures above the Lego Store, or the roller coasters and ferris wheel *inside* a mall, or the ridiculous number of candy stores that you were never allowed to go into when you were actually a kid. We also stopped for a quick peek into Minnesota's Largest Candy Store for good measure—and I can't express the amount of restraint required in a place packed floor to ceiling with all the gummies, chocolate, taffy, fudge, and soda you could ever imagine.
After our day worshiping at the altar of corporate America, we decided the best way to bookend the trip would be to embrace nature. In Mankato, the best place I've found to experience the unique prairie landscape of this area of Minnesota has been Minneopa State Park.
My favorite thing about this park is that it is home to a bison herd. Back when the American plain bison were nearly hunted to extinction, conservation groups like those at Minneopa stepped in to create herds in order to save the species and protect the ecosystem. Minneopa's herd both lends to the conservation of a magnificent creature and helps maintain the prairie landscape.
The entrance to the bison range is an opening in a metal wire fence with a cattle grate preventing the bison from trampling unsuspecting hikers. A sign out front reads, "Bison are wild and unpredictable. Stay in your car." The dirt road snakes through a sprawling prairie, with wildflowers and boulders dotting the terrain. Just one bison needs a startling five acres of land.
Other signs pop up periodically. Things like, "Bison can run three times faster than the average human."
Eventually, we came upon the herd. It was far enough from the road that I wished I had brought my zoom lens and DSLR camera to see them properly. Before long, we continued our drive through the prairie to the other side of the range, then turned around to head out the way we came.
This time, we came upon another car that was stopped to look at the herd, which was closer to the road than before, so we stopped again to enjoy watching the bison eat and relax in the shade of a tree. We were enthralled by a massive one scratching himself against the bark of the tree.
Everything changed when I caught this guy staring deadpan at me. Slowly, they all began to migrate closer and closer to the road. Lots of "Holy crap!"s later, the bison were all munching on grass right next to the left side of the road (we were parked on the right). Even my iPhone could make out the fluffy clouds of chocolate brown fur, glistening tongues and noses, and smooth horns striated with neutral colors.
But then the bison continued to move. The car in front of me zipped off down the road, escaping just as the first bison approached my car and meandered around my hood. Soon, bison were surrounding the car. There was no escape. Between snapping pictures and freaking out about a wild bison spearing its horn through my new car, I managed to marvel at the novelty of the experience—the fact that we were able to drive safari-style through a wild animal habitat, the fact that these adorable, powerful creatures were close enough to touch, the fact that conservationists had managed to salvage this species from the brink and that we could see them today.
The next day, we decided to round off our Minneopa experience by taking the bison range on foot. We set off on the trail that snakes around the entire enclosure, hoping to see some bison up close and without the divide of the car between us.
One thing that I did not anticipate was Minnesota's mosquito problem. I've never been the type for bug spray—I don't like the smell or the idea of putting chemicals on my body. But I regret that aversion now. As soon as we stepped into the shade of the forest, mosquitoes swarmed. They buzzed, pestered, and dive-bombed. They surrounded our heads in a cloud of annoyance. I felt as if I was in a horror movie where bugs were crawling all over me, trying to force their way into my eyes, ears, and mouth. Finally, my sanity almost gone, I resorted to wrapping my bandeau headband around my entire head and neck hijab-style for some kind of relief. I vow to never go hiking in Minnesota without bug spray ever again.
Nevertheless, we got to see the old mill and a beautiful scenic overlook, as well as viewing the bison herd from afar. From wildflowers to gorgeous wild animals, Minneopa did not disappoint.