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North American Super Slam – American Bison
The American bison is the species I chose for this Super Slam article because it fascinates me. These animals are indigenous to North America and although commonly referred to as buffalo, they are not really buffalo. However, don’t feel bad if like me, despite knowing they are really bison, you still call them buffalo. They have been called buffalo so much that even in the song Home on the Range, written in the early 1870s, they are called buffalo.
That song is often referred to as the unofficial anthem of the West. If you Google the word “buffalo,” a bison picture will undoubtedly appear. I still refer to them as buffalo, and I have 11 of them in one pasture of our ranch, so either is acceptable in my book, despite some people getting upset about it. For this article, however, in the interest of accuracy, I will stick with the proper term.
Complicated History
The two subspecies we have in North America are the plains bison and the woods bison. Although hard for me to even imagine, the plains bison once numbered over 30 million. When they would migrate across the grasslands, there are documented accounts of millions of them taking days to pass by an area. Sadly, they were nearly extinct by the 19th century. Despite overhunting commonly being blamed, it was a combination of hunting and brucellosis that many believe was transmitted to the bison from domestic cattle in the 1800s.
Woods bison were more prevalent in Canada and Alaska and although once thought extinct, there are still some small populations in Canada and Alaska. The two species look very similar, and it would take an expert to discern. The bison in Yellowstone National Park that most people are familiar with are the plains bison.
American Bison are also unique because of their long lifespans and intimidating size. Twenty years is not an uncommon lifespan, and mature males can commonly hit 2,000 pounds, stand six feet tall at the shoulder, which is the tallest part on a bison, and be 11 feet long from nose to rump. If you measured with the tail held out, even longer. But I wouldn’t suggest trying that.
Although many places offer bison hunts, the only free-ranging bison that can be entered into record books like P&Y or B&C are found in Alaska, Utah, Wyoming, Arizona, Montana, and parts of Canada. Tags in the US are usually difficult to draw, very limited, and can be difficult hunts based on pressure and location.
North to Canada
For my American bison hunt, I went with guides and outfitters Darwin Watson and his sons Mac and Luke who guided hunters on the free range herd in the Pink Mountains of British Columbia. This area has one of the largest free-range bison herds in the world. I was excited for my hunt but while researching bowhunting for bison, I had heard a lot of horror stories of how difficult they were to take with a bow. I figured early man and Native Americans had it figured out, and they weren’t using steel broadheads and carbon limbs, so I should hopefully be able to make it happen.
I had also heard that getting close to a free-range American bison was a challenge, and I was taking a recurve. I had already been told that quite a few people had gone with hopes of taking one with a bow and ended up turning to the rifle. I had told Mac and his brother Luke that I would stick with the bow. They explained that would be fine, but if I wounded one, we would have to finish it with a rifle, which I understood.
When the big day arrived, I landed at Fort St. John, British Columbia, and was met by Mac and his father. I had no idea just how difficult just getting to the bison would be. First, we flew a bush plane into a remote area with a rough landing strip in a meadow. Then, we hopped on horses to get to a remote camp. The area was beautiful. The first day, we glassed moose, stone sheep, and grizzlies in the same drainage. Our days were filled with glassing huge areas in search of the bison.
Critical Logistics
On the second or third day, if memory serves, we spotted a herd feeding in some willows. We checked the wind and began our stalk. Luke was with me, and as if I didn’t have enough on my mind, he whispered as we got close that we had no trees to climb for cover and that bison could be protective. He said to try not to get spotted or let them get too close, as bison will often charge if they see you because they are used to fending off grizzlies and wolves.
As we crawled, trying to get close, I had that in the back of my mind as well. We closed to about 60 yards on our bellies and noticed that the bison were feeding our way. There were some cows and calves in the group which made me nervous, as I have been charged by domestic cattle protecting calves, so I figured bison mothers were probably worse. The nerve-wracking part was that it was a toss-up whether the cows, a calf, or a bull came close.
Then, even if they did, would I get spotted trying to raise out of the grass to shoot? I also didn’t want them to get too close. Even though a lot of moons have passed since I was lying in the grass that day, I can vividly remember thinking the odds were not with us. I also knew I needed a good shot because if I got an opportunity, odds were I wouldn’t get another.
Lady luck smiled on me when the big bull, and I do mean big, started feeding my way. I was lying in the grass, looking at an animal that was around 2,000 pounds as it slowly fed into range. My recurve that I had taken a lot of elk with suddenly seemed like a toy, and my confidence wavered when I drew back as the bull turned broadside. I remember thinking way too many thoughts. I hope I get good penetration; I hope they don’t charge; I hope I don’t need to follow up with a gun. My Muzzy broadhead trembling on the end of my arrow seemed small and insignificant.
The arrow left my bow and struck the big bull in the chest. It looked good, but it seemed a lot of my arrow was still outside the bull, and I was panicked that I had not gotten the penetration I needed. Fortunately, the herd took off, and the bull ran a tight half-circle and I lost sight of it. Then, I saw dust and heard a moan. I jumped to my feet and saw the bull down.
I was still too nervous to be optimistic until I heard Mac yell from the hillside where he was watching everything through his spotting scope, some distance away. The bull was down, and both brothers said it was the quickest they had seen one go down with a bow. I was trembling from the fear of possibly getting trampled seconds before as well as the rush of relief.
Adoration Gained
As I walked up to the giant bison I realized it was the closest I had ever been to an American bison. I really had no idea how huge they really were until I walked up to it. The amount of meat on a bison is incredible and so was the huge job of skinning, caping, and quartering the big bull. It took multiple horses and trips to pack the bull back to camp, and his huge head hangs on my wall today.
After reflecting on this hunt, American bison are massive animals, and fortunately for any bowhunter wanting to pursue one, it is totally doable if you have the right equipment. I would suggest a minimum of 55 pounds on a recurve or compound. I would also advise a cut-on-impact broadhead and a minimum of 550 grains of arrow weight. Lastly, I would suggest keeping shots under 25 yards and not taking anything but a broadside or slightly quartering-away shot to try and cleanly take out both lungs. Be sure to check legal minimums before going, as many states and provinces have varying laws on what you can use.
Even though this hunt was 20 years ago, I often think of the rush of lying in the grass next to a herd of animals that are iconic symbols of the West. My passion for bison started there, and I now have a small herd of bison I raise. I never get tired of marveling at how unique and beautiful they are. For a fun, challenging hunt, try putting in for a bison. The meat and the experience are well worth it.
