When Bison Attack

So it turns out that a long time ago in a decade characterized by women's suffrage and prohibition, a certain movie was being filmed on Catalina Island. The motion picture was a Western (as is only fitting on this island dominated by Coastal Sage Scrub ecosystems) called The Vanishing American. The film was based on a novel of the same name by a popular Western author named Zane Grey. Zane Grey actually lived on the island for years, so it makes sense they'd film the movie out here. For a shot in this movie, 14 bison were shipped out to the island to serve as animals in the background. After the movie wrapped, they ended up cutting the scene with the bison, and for one reason or another decided not to remove the bison from the island.

And so, 90 years later, we have about 150 of the inbred creatures on the island. Their population is managed by the Catalina Island Conservancy through a rather ingenious technology, which a cousin of mine once suggested be used on promiscuous humans. The contraceptive dart rifle. Basically they load up darts with some sort of chemical that breaks down the linings of Bison eggs so they cannot be fertilized, thus keeping the population growth at a paltry 3%. Despite their invasive presence and impact on the shrubs and plants of the island, they have become far too much of a tourist attraction to remove, and so they have become a part of the island.

The vast majority of the Catalina Bison herd (which according to Wikipedia isn't really composed of pureblood bison, with 45% of them having cow ancestry) is found on the larger Eastern half of the Island, toward Avalon. However, there is at least one Bison on the West End. We in Riptide have named this solitary and rebellious beast Marc Antony, in honor of our favorite character from the TV show Rome.

From time to time our friend Antony will make an appearance within the borders of camp, and so it was that on a pizza night, shortly after I had scooped up my two slices of steaming pepperoni from the Dining Lodge, the voices of all the children in camp raised into one great scream, and as I looked out across the upper Boys Camp field, I saw that Marc Antony had decided to join us for dinner. I would like to challenge the reader to imagine what it is like to see 150 children witness the arrival of a wild animal renowned for its goring habits. Everyone was on their feet, yelling all sorts of idiotic suggestions about how to deal with the buffalo or merely making high pitched panic noises. I considered with a creeping dread the possibility that one of the younglings might decide to make a run at Antony, thus provoking him into a less than amiable response. It was this same impression that had Rasheed on his feet, urging kids with a somewhat maniacal tone to stay calm and remain seated. The great beast actually ended up ambling by the dining hall, crossed the lower boys camp field and rolled around in the fine sands of the beach volleyball court before deciding to abandon this valley of screaming children and make its way up the deer trail, disappearing around the first curve of the road to Two Harbors.

It certainly made for an interesting evening.