The recent Yellowstone National Park bison attack that left a 65-year-old visitor with a femur broken in four places after being tossed into the air has captured national attention. According to reports, the man and his grandson were not intentionally harassing the animal, a reminder that while many wildlife incidents result from people getting far too close, nature doesn’t always follow our expectations.
That story immediately took me back to one of the most intense wildlife encounters I’ve ever experienced.

Ironically, the huge bull bison in my recent Lamar Valley photograph was the very same animal from that encounter. Seeing him again brought back memories that have stayed with me ever since.
One of the biggest misconceptions surrounding wildlife attacks is that every victim must have done something foolish. Certainly, many people ignore common sense around Yellowstone’s wildlife. Every year visitors crowd bison for selfies, approach calves, or underestimate just how fast these massive animals can move.
But the outdoors is still wild.
Sometimes you can do nearly everything right and still find yourself in a dangerous situation. Wild animals have minds of their own, especially during the rut, when mature bull bison can become extremely aggressive toward rivals and anything else they perceive as a threat.
My encounter was a reminder that no amount of outdoor experience should ever replace humility.
Here’s what happened.
As the sun rose over the Lamar Valley in Yellowstone National Park, the silhouettes of American buffalo (bison) dotted the horizon.
Truly wild bison are a rare commodity, and seeing them in person is a powerful experience when you consider they were nearly driven to extinction just over a century ago.
While slowly driving through this incredible setting, a pair of beautiful pronghorn caught my attention.
I pulled over to take a few photos.
Another gentleman had stopped to do the same, and as we adjusted our camera lenses, his wife suddenly shouted from their truck.
“Bison!”

Turning around, we found ourselves nearly eye to eye with a massive bull bison.
And he looked angry.
Really angry.
The whites of his eyes showed as he grunted from only about 15 feet away. At that distance, we were roughly half a second away from 1,500 pounds of fury.
We slowly and calmly backed away.
Thankfully, a couple of other bison crossed the road and caught his attention.
He immediately charged one of them, slamming into another mature bull. The younger animal fought back briefly before deciding retreat was the wiser option.
The big bull then rolled violently in the dirt, grunted, pawed the ground and bucked like a rodeo bronc.
Yes, this was the same bison that had quietly walked up behind us only moments earlier.
It was a powerful reminder of just how quickly these animals can change from seemingly calm to explosively aggressive.
Bison injure more people in Yellowstone than any other animal.
Many visitors look at them like oversized cattle grazing peacefully in a pasture because they’re accustomed to seeing people in the park.
That isn’t docility.
That’s confidence.
There’s a tremendous difference.
I understood the danger before this encounter. In fact, later on the trip I passed up what looked like an outstanding fishing hole in Lamar Valley because it was surrounded by large bulls, cows and calves.
Being caught between a mother bison, her calf and a trout stream is a terrible idea.
I found another place to fish.
The trout cooperated just fine.
As I sat later reflecting on the trip, I realized Yellowstone had once again offered more than beautiful scenery and wildlife photography. It had provided perspective.
Sometimes only time spent in truly wild places can do that.
This encounter also reinforced something I try to communicate through my writing and speaking: respect wildlife, keep your distance, and never assume an animal’s behavior will remain predictable simply because it has tolerated people before.
Wild places deserve our admiration—but they also deserve our respect.
I’m just thankful I’m writing about this encounter instead of having someone else write the headline for me.
“Wildlife Journalist Suffers Bison Attack” is one headline I hope never to read.
Chester Moore
Chester Moore
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