Running with Bison, Montana

Dreaming, while camping, I’ve often heard thundering hoof beats—deer, elk, moose, or wild pigs in the tropics—thundering past my sleeping shelter. There are stories of people running with animals. One young man I met in Northeastern Arizona, a member of the Dene tribe, would jog behind his cattle, moving them around water and good ground during the summer months. Years ago, we’d run through the open draws and through the canyons sometimes for fun. We’d come across wildhorses, old cattle, and bighorn sheep. These days most people don’t run to either hunt or herd. But there was the one day I was running by myself, alone, through an open forest near the Yellowstone border. I was moving fast, carrying a small 35mm camera. Through an opening of the trees hoofs thundered, flashes of color emerged along the forest edge. While running I clicked the settings into place and made this one image. Fur and hoofs rumbled past. I kept the slide roll in my old Pentax for some time. When the work was processed, my heart raced. That moment was just a year after I was living in Montana. I’ve been keeping that image, partly because this moment is part secret, part sacred, and partly because I remember the hoofs, the color and light, the bright openness that merged into a wild plain that the bison sped off into. Finally, this summer (2007), I’ve made a print that is the story as I remember it. I look at this and I hear hoof beats in sand, see prints in hard tack clay, and remember the drive (or is it dreams?) that inspire ventures in the wild and open. Sizes: 8x10, 11x14, 12x18, 17x24