The herd and tale of it

Buffaloes don't herd easily. If pushed too fast, they lower their heads and charge at anyone dumb enough to get in the way.

But that is exactly what we were trying to do — about 150 riders as we trotted across a flat field on Antelope Island in the middle of Utah's Great Salt Lake.

Ahead of us, a herd of about 250 bison — a woolly, snorting blanket of black shoulders and rising dust — shuffled towards the corrals on the north end of the island. To move the animals, riders whooped like warriors.

In all the commotion, a few riders were thrown to the ground and one suffered a broken wrist.

Still, that's the kind of excitement that draws riders to the annual Bison Round-up on Antelope Island, one of the few buffalo round-ups in the US that allow untrained volunteers to herd these surly 1-tonne creatures.

Autumn affair

On Antelope Island, every autumn, any adult with a horse and the $25 (Dh91) admission fee can help herd bison into corrals.

I arrived on this 28,000-acre island and saw a stream of pickup trucks, horse trailers and recreational vehicles roll on to a grass field.

Some of these fellow bison fanatics travelled as many as 600 miles to spend three days enduring freezing temperatures and choking dust clouds to marvel at this iconic symbol of the American West.

The night before the round-up, I shivered in a tiny tent near Fielding Garr Ranch, the horse rental concession on the south end of the island.

Before I arrived, Utah state park officials told me most bison wranglers camp on the island during the three-day event.

The round-up began early next morning with a briefing. An assistant park ranger warned us that bison are not as docile as their bovine cousins. When buffaloes get angry, they lift their tails and charge.

Hulking herd

Among the island's bison are several lone bulls — stubborn beasts that won't associate with the herd. Those rebels that aren't corralled on the first two days would be herded later by helicopter.

Atop my rented steed, I followed other riders to an open field where about 250 bison had been grazing.

The riders formed a semicircle about half a mile long and advanced on the bison, herding them north. The experienced riders took the lead, riding only a few yards from the animals.

I watched them move without protest.

Within an hour, the bison began to rebel. Every few minutes, a random buffalo charged out of the herd, frustrated by being pushed too far, too fast. Horses and riders dodged the horned attacks in a cloud of dust.

The lead riders continued to whoop and holler. A bullwhip cracked.

Amid the commotion, I saw an ambulance, its cherry-top lights flashing, speed along a road in the distance. I learnt later that several riders had been thrown from their horses and one had broken a wrist.

The ambulance took the injured rider away via a causeway on the north end of the island.

After about two hours of riding, we gave the herd a much-needed break at a watering trough. This is where I got my first close look at Antelope Island's bison. These were plains bison, the shorter relative of the wood bison.

When the break ended, we mounted up and pushed the herd over the ridgeline that bisects the island like a spine.

Once we cleared the crest, our herd trotted downhill, joining up with bison that had been grazing on the other side. Now our herd numbered nearly 600 — a rolling expanse of dust and black humpbacks.

Our final destination lay at the bottom of the hill: a large corral and several stalls.

The buffaloes sped down the mountainside, with our horses trotting to keep up. But when the herd reached the open gates, the bison stopped.

They wouldn't enter the corrals, unwilling to exchange free-range grazing for fences and gates. We shouted. The bullwhip cracked but the bison wouldn't budge.

The stand-off lasted several minutes until a few reluctant buffaloes marched through the gates and the rest followed.

Once the gates slammed shut, the riders celebrated with shouts of glee. It had taken us about four hours to move the bison more than 15 miles. We were saddle-sore, hungry and thirsty.

I joined several other wranglers who were riding to a small concession restaurant on the north end of the island.

“What's for lunch?'' I asked.
“Buffalo burgers,'' came the reply.

Go there . . . Antelope Island . . . From the UAE

From Dubai

The closest airport is Salt Lake City.

Delta flies daily via Atlanta.
Fare from Dh4,075

— Information courtesy: The Holiday Lounge by Dnata.
Ph: 04 4380454