| Yellowstone Bison Slaughter
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| News
Article 4/10/05 |
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| All
in the name of buffalo
By Nick Gevock, Bozeman Daily Chronicle
4/10/05 |
WEST
YELLOWSTONE- Justine Sanchez' maternal instinct
fueled her desire to volunteer for the Buffalo Field Campaign.
"As a mother, I felt like I have to raise my child
to be a conscious human," she said this past week.
"That's the only way we're going to be successful,
to raise our children to look out for the buffalo."
Sanchez, who lives in the mountains near Ward, Colo.,
started volunteering for the campaign four years ago after
she grew frustrated reading about the capture and killing
of Yellowstone National Park buffalo.
She has come back every winter since, bringing her husband
Roman and son Japhy. It's hard to leave a comfortable
home, leave her job as a restaurant manager, leave Japhy's
school and friends, she said.
But it's worth it to be a role model for her son.
"We do make sacrifices for things that we really
care about, for ideas that are bigger than ourselves,"
she said. "He's really starting to understand what
that means."
For Stephany Seay, quitting her desk job in Virginia and
came to West Yellowstone to volunteer for the campaign
was a must.
The 34-year-old had been involved with conservation groups
in Virginia when she first heard of the buffalo effort.
The more she learned, the more she wanted to help.
"I just got tired of sitting on the sidelines, watching
videos," she said.
These women, along with hundreds of other volunteers,
are the reason the Buffalo Field Campaign is going strong.
Now in its eighth year, the group wants to end what it
sees as the unjustified slaughter of wildlife, all in
the name of protecting cattle.
Volunteers film the hazing, herding and capture of Yellowstone
buffalo when they cross the park boundary. They travel
the country giving talks and slide shows. And they lobby
Congress and the Montana Legislature to try to end the
practices and allow buffalo to roam onto public lands
outside the park.
The campaign has drawn more than 2,000 volunteers since
its inception. The group has gained a reputation as a
bunch of hippies running around when officials herd bison.
But they are in fact an incredibly diverse group, coming
from all across the country and the world. Volunteers
have shown up from Germany, Sweden, even China.
Many of the volunteers are college age, but the campaign
attracts people of all ages and walks of life.
"There's so many diverse people coming from different
backgrounds, but the buffalo unite us," Dan Brister,
the group's project coordinator, said.
COMMUNAL LIVING
Headquarters for the campaign is a large cabin that it
rents on the north shore of Hebgen Lake, which houses
anywhere from a couple-dozen to 60 people at a time. Half
a dozen smaller cabins, four teepees, a yurt and an arctic
dome stand behind the cabin and provide housing for volunteers
and staff.
A big buffalo head made of burlap and strips of fleece
hangs from the front of the cabin in a symbol to members
what they're fighting for.
The rustic main cabin feels like a combination of hunting
camp and a hippie commune.
Every day the volunteers return here to shed their heavy
clothes, having spent hours marching through the snow
and braving bitter cold temperatures.
Wool pants and shirts hang on clotheslines strung above
the wood stove in the front room. Pack boots and dishes
line the shelves.
The kitchen looks like any other kitchen set up to feed
a large bunch of people. There is a massive, six-burner
propane stove. Large pots and cast iron skillets are arranged
on high shelves, along with a rack of spices.
The volunteers sleep in bunks built into second-story
lofts around the cabin's four main rooms. There's one
shower for the entire group in the lone restroom.
But the volunteers say they don't mind the close quarters.
In fact, it's part of the appeal of pitching in for the
campaign.
"I was an only child and grew up in the country,
so having this many people around is awesome," volunteer
Leland Reilick, who hails form North Carolina, said in
a mild Southern drawl.
Reilick is earning credit from his college in Ohio for
his time with the campaign. But he said his main motivation
to join the group was seeing the buffalo before they're
domesticated, or killed.
Out back are two freezers, which hold the groceries. Seay
said meat is served every other night, just to make it
last. Some volunteers are vegetarians or vegans and meals
are prepared for them as well.
But food isn't much of an issue, Seay said.
"I reach into the fridge to grab my tofu and there's
an elk hanging there," Seay said. "We all get
along."
The Buffalo Field Campaign doesn't consider itself an
animal rights group. In truth, many members are hunters
who bag elk and deer every year to help feed the crew.
Volunteers get room, board and use of the campaign's gear,
such as skis and snowshoes.
The group runs entirely on donations. They've received
a van from singer Jackson Brown, and the Patagonia outdoor
clothing company gives them fleece jackets and long underwear.
But the bulk of their funding comes from small donors
who pitch in a few dollars at a time.
AVERAGE DAY
Despite the public perception that the campaign is somewhat
amateur, in truth it is incredibly organized.
The rules include using only legal means to get the treatment
of the bison on film, and no drugs or alcohol in the cabin.
Every morning the volunteers get up about an hour before
sun rise, pull on bulky wool and fleece clothes and eat
breakfast before heading out.
"Breakfast is ready, coffee is ready, all you have
to do is get up, which is the hard part," Seay said.
Patrols go out on two shifts, a morning crew out from
sunrise to 1 p.m., and an evening shift that works until
sunset, or later if needed.
Each patrol is assigned to one of four spots along the
west boundary of the park, where buffalo cross U.S. Highway
191 to graze and calve at Rainbow Point.
Every night after the evening patrol gets in, the campaign
holds a meeting to discuss strategy, where the bison are
and plan the next day's patrols. This is also a chance
to air out personal grievances or disputes between volunteers.
A sign hanging in the front room warns members not to
let their bad habits get in the way. "Respect and
be aware of personal boundaries," one sign said.
TOUGH DAY
On a recent afternoon, campaign members watched and filmed
as Montana Department of Livestock, U.S. Forest Service
and Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks Department agents
rode snowmobiles and horses to herd five bison along the
highway toward a capture pen.
"Shame on you," Sanchez yelled from a parking
lot about 50 yards away. "Shame on the Park Service.
Shame on the Forest dis-Service..."
But moments later she turned around and said "we
sometimes wonder if that's the best strategy to take,
we talk about those kinds of things all the time."
Despite concerns about tactics, they stay focused on the
goal, which is to make sure that the government officials
are held accountable for their actions, Sanchez said.
The only way to do that is to get it all on film and show
the world.
The volunteers grew visibly upset when a herd of about
15 cow and calf buffalo grazing along the highway were
herded into the trap. Volunteers looked on in disgust
from a vantage point across Duck Creek from the pen, where
the bison are tested to see if they contain antibodies
to brucellosis.
But they later took joy in watching as five bull buffalo
ran the herders around in a large circle, through a private
lot and Duck Creek, before escaping into the timber.
"Score one for the buffalo," Seay said.
Despite the tough days, the volunteers don't get dejected,
Sanchez said. They keep their eyes on the bigger picture
-- turning public opinion against the government's treatment
of bison.
And although they've been the subject of criticism, Sanchez
said all of them are giving up a great deal to volunteer
their time for a cause they believe in.
"They're not doing it for fame or wealth or power,
they're doing it out of a sense of respect for these animals,"
she said. "That's pretty powerful."
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