At the entrance to the airport is a hand-written notice welcoming everyone to the airport, and telling us that the 8.30am flight has been cancelled.
I'm not surprised.
It has been snowing all night. In some places at the airport the snow is knee-deep. What you need here is a motorized sledge, not a plane. The local representatives of Great Lakes Airlines can't give us any definite information. The snowploughs are struggling away; the 11.30am plane might be able to take off.
Yesterday, Jeff thought this might happen. We even checked on Google Earth how to get to Chadron, the next stage on my journey. Jeff, a truly wonderful man, made me an offer that, if the planes were still snowbound, he would drive me to Nebraska, the neighboring state, in his jeep.
Provided that the highways are open by then; at the moment they are all closed.
But why do I have to get to Nebraska?
Because I want to hunt bison.
The hero of all stories about the wild west, the most American American animal. A species that has been saved from extinction several times, a real survivor: that is the American Bison (Bison bison). Americans, interestingly, also call it a buffalo, but no-one knows why. There are also many buffalo living in Asia and Africa (they can also be found in some Hungarian nature reserves), but in America you will look for them in vain. Whoever wants to see a real buffalo in the US, will have to go to a zoo. Like many other American species, the bison also originated in Asia and struggled over the Bering Strait about 200,000 years ago, to find its new home.
The shortest distance between America and Asia is at the Bering Straits; there is only 53mi.
between the two continents. The sea is no more than 98 - 160ft.deep and, according to certain theories, before the last ice age, you could walk over with dry feet. This must have been the route which, following the bisons' ancestors, the first Native Americans took. The strait got its name from Vitus Bering, a Russian explorer of Danish origin, who sailed through it in 1728, but did not realise it, as he couldn't see the American continent because of the fog.
The species has a European cousin, the European Bison (Bison bonasus) , and, according to the latest genetic research, the two are identical. The body of the bison looks slightly out of proportion, very much like the worked-out bulldog in Tom and Jerry cartoons, with a slim waist, wide, powerful shoulders, and a huge head.
The bison population used to be the largest of any grazing animal in the world.
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At the start of the 19th century there must have been a stock of between 50 - 70 million animals on the prairies. In any single area of 25 x 50mi. there could be a population of 4m. animals. But after the arrival of the settlers, one of the greatest animal exterminations in history began.
Hunting of the species spiralled out of control, and the carts carrying their skins rolled across the prairies in endless lines. Their original habitat almost entirely covered what is now the US, and some theories say that they were even found in Eastern Canada and Alaska. Buffalo Bill, something of a hero in his time, and his associates, managed to reduce the numbers to 1000 by 1890, and it was only by taking the strictest steps that the species was saved from extinction. By his own reckoning, Willian Frederick Cody, to use his proper name, killed, between 1867-68, a period of 18 months, 4280 bison; but he didn't do it for fun. He was in charge of supplying meat for the workers on the Kansas Pacific Railroad, and many bison were victims of this program.
Although the species was eventually rescued, there will never again be the herds that were once seen roaming over the prairie. Today they live almost exclusively in national parks and private reserves in Canada and the USA.
After the walrus, it is the largest animal in North America. The males can reach a weight of 290lbs. and a height, to their shoulder, of 70ins. This gigantic animal, despite its awkward build, can run at up to 30mph. and is also an excellent swimmer.
It has two sub-species. One is the Plains Bison, to which scientists have given the absurd name of Bison bison bison. The larger, and darker, Wood Bison (Bison bison athabascae) lived in the distant western territories, as well as in Canada and Alaska. Some scientists mention two other sub-species, the Mountain Bison (Bison bison haningtoni) and the Eastern Bison (Bison bison pennsylvanicus). This last name refers to the place where the bison used to live. At present, the general belief is that the Yellowstone National Park and Wood Buffalo Park are inhabited by crossbreeds of the Mountain and Wood Bison.
Today there are approximately 100,000 bison on the continent. The stock of Plains Bison is stable and secure, and it can be hunted on US territory, but only under very strict conditions. The Wood Bison has not been so fortunate; in the US it has a CITES II rating, meaning it qualifies as an endangered sub-species. Interestingly, in Canada, the population of Wood Bison has risen dramatically, so they can now be hunted there, but, according to the USF&WS ruling, their trophies cannot be imported into the US.
But I've still got a long way to go before I see a bison.
Jeff and I accept the inevitable, and get in the car. We try to look on the bright side: at least we have time for a big breakfast. For that we vote to go to the nearest McDonalds, where we manage to kill an hour. At least it was something to do. We go back to the house - the silly dogs are all over us - check the latest weather forecast, and watch what's happening on television. The
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roads in and out of town are still not open, and the announcer won't even make a guess as to when the highways will be open. 30mins. later we get a phone call saying the 11.30am flight is going to take off. We get back in the car immediately, and race off to the airport.
I must confess that I have become so weary of dealing with airline employees that I'm automatically starting to view anyone sitting at a check-in desk in a negative light. I suspect the two men behind the Great Lakes Airlines desk, doing nothing in particular it appears, probably worked at some point for United Airlines, and have brought their unhelpful, inefficient attitude with them to their new job. The passengers for the early and mid-morning flights have to be rounded up and put on the next flight. That is what they should be doing. But the effort seems to be too much for them. Things are moving so slowly that everybody's patience is being severely tested.
One of the computers won't connect to the central office - they must have a very good systems operator - the other one does, but isn't much use; the young man doesn't know how to use the program. Sometimes he stares at the screen for up to 5mins. without pressing a key. I wonder what he's thinking, or expecting to happen. Why isn't he doing anything? Whether it's right or wrong, he ought to do something. Now he has given up completely, and is on the phone asking for help. "Shall I press F5 or F6? I've pressed it and nothing's happened." That's how the conversation goes.
We check in.
We are just about to board when they announce that the plane is not only full, it's overloaded, and the pilot is refusing to take off. And the reason for this is that there are some passengers who had the nerve to check in two, or even three heavy bags. They now want these passengers to come forward; they will have to leave one bag behind to come on the next flight.
I lie low.
I pull my cap down over my eyes and stare fixedly at the pattern on the carpet.
Two sinners give themselves up. They watch sadly as their bags are removed. Then they suddenly brighten up when the bags are put back on again. The desk staff has made another mistake; the plane is not full, so everyone can take as many bags as they like…
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Bed and Breakfast Bunkhouse (somewhere in the middle of the prairie) Nebraska
USA