Tour of Lone Elk Park, St. Louis, MO
It was one of the few hot and muggy summer days in Missouri up to that point, but we had planned to hike on July 4th weekend, and hike we did! We did not hike at Lone Elk Park, however. My group of friends and I decided to drive through Lone Elk Park to admire the wildlife and then later picnic and hike at Emmenneger Nature Park, on our way home. While we listened to a friend's newly released CD in the comfort of the air conditioned Honda, we drove along the winding roads admiring trees and keeping an eye out for wildlife. It turned out we didn't need to look too hard. As we crested a small hill, there not fifty feet down from us in the middle of the road, was a herd of Elk and one lone deer.
One of these things is not like the others. Yeah, it's you, deer.
Too tickled to stay in the car, we stopped the car at a safe distance and piled out to watch the herd. Elk babies make adorable noises, I learned, and are spotted like baby deer, probably for camouflage as well. The park powers that be should consider renaming the land Lone Deer Park, because we saw plenty of Elk and only this one deer all afternoon.
See? Plenty of space to be nonthreatening and enough to dive back into the car in time if necessary. The Elk eyed us, but went on chewing the roadside grasses after seeing we were a polite, quiet bunch.
BABY!
There were no signs saying we couldn't get out of our cars near the elk, but there was a sign asking people not to drive through the herd and we certainly saw a car drive around us and weave through the animals. We did our duty and shook our heads and wagged our fingers at them, disparaging their reading skills.
Soon, the deer left through a field of grasses, over a hill and into the woods (to find granny's house? Oh wait, that's over a river...) and the Elk followed slowly crossing the road and passing over a different hill to our left. Why do Elk cross the road, you ask? To go swimming, of course!
I call this photo "Four Butts and a Baby"
It was so hot, I wanted to join them.
While we stood watching the Elk, a car with an elderly couple in it stopped next to us and a grey haired woman rolled down her window.
"Have you been to see the Bison yet?"
No, not yet.
"Well, be careful when you do. We just came from there and one of the bison head-butted our car."
With that information in mind, we packed ourselves back into the car and drove further into the park. At the entrance of the Bison area, there were signs clearly stating to stay in your vehicles and to beware of possible Bison-car attacks. The lady wasn't joking!
If the Elk are the graceful, regal animals of the park, the bison are the slovenly henchmen. While Bison are enormous and fascinating up close, they were rather gross with matted hair stuck with leaves, mud, and after we saw a bison shoot runny poo out of his back-end onto the spot he had just vacated, probably goo that was not mud, thus attracting swarms of flies around their rotund rumps. They mostly lay down along the road, giant heads swaying, or bodies rolling back and forth in the dirt and "mud" unleashing clouds of dust. One bison walked straight up to our car and stood there eyeing us with contempt as the cars behind us honked for us to get a move on so they could get a closer look. They couldn't see the giant blocking our path. We all sat nervously staring out of the windows and whispering for fear the bison would decide to test his skull against my friend's shiny new car. Apparently we paid him enough deference and he finally moved his hefty self back to the trees.
Those are flies, not dandruff flakes you see on the left.
Unbeknownst to these awe-inspiring creatures, the people in the car were discussing the deliciousness of bison burgers.
The Bison who pooed, wearing his latest leafy fashion.
He's turning away, thank God!
Before visiting Lone Elk Park, I had read a book called "St. Louis Parks" by NiNi Harris and Esley Hamilton in which they briefly described the park's history. The park was named because during the Korean war, the Army rounded up and killed most of the Elk population. Years later, according to an article by Esley Hamilton in The St. Louis Post Dispatch, when the county parks director Wayne C. Kennedy acquired the land and one lone elk was found wandering in it, the public requested that the park be turned into a wildlife area.
This park has a trail, barbecue and picnic areas and paved roads for driving around and viewing the animals. We were respectful, conscientious visitors of Lone Elk Park who enjoyed watching deer, elk, and bison up close in their routine activities. We also enjoyed not being head-butted by a bison.
Too tickled to stay in the car, we stopped the car at a safe distance and piled out to watch the herd. Elk babies make adorable noises, I learned, and are spotted like baby deer, probably for camouflage as well. The park powers that be should consider renaming the land Lone Deer Park, because we saw plenty of Elk and only this one deer all afternoon.
There were no signs saying we couldn't get out of our cars near the elk, but there was a sign asking people not to drive through the herd and we certainly saw a car drive around us and weave through the animals. We did our duty and shook our heads and wagged our fingers at them, disparaging their reading skills.
Soon, the deer left through a field of grasses, over a hill and into the woods (to find granny's house? Oh wait, that's over a river...) and the Elk followed slowly crossing the road and passing over a different hill to our left. Why do Elk cross the road, you ask? To go swimming, of course!
I call this photo "Four Butts and a Baby"
While we stood watching the Elk, a car with an elderly couple in it stopped next to us and a grey haired woman rolled down her window.
"Have you been to see the Bison yet?"
No, not yet.
"Well, be careful when you do. We just came from there and one of the bison head-butted our car."
With that information in mind, we packed ourselves back into the car and drove further into the park. At the entrance of the Bison area, there were signs clearly stating to stay in your vehicles and to beware of possible Bison-car attacks. The lady wasn't joking!
If the Elk are the graceful, regal animals of the park, the bison are the slovenly henchmen. While Bison are enormous and fascinating up close, they were rather gross with matted hair stuck with leaves, mud, and after we saw a bison shoot runny poo out of his back-end onto the spot he had just vacated, probably goo that was not mud, thus attracting swarms of flies around their rotund rumps. They mostly lay down along the road, giant heads swaying, or bodies rolling back and forth in the dirt and "mud" unleashing clouds of dust. One bison walked straight up to our car and stood there eyeing us with contempt as the cars behind us honked for us to get a move on so they could get a closer look. They couldn't see the giant blocking our path. We all sat nervously staring out of the windows and whispering for fear the bison would decide to test his skull against my friend's shiny new car. Apparently we paid him enough deference and he finally moved his hefty self back to the trees.
Unbeknownst to these awe-inspiring creatures, the people in the car were discussing the deliciousness of bison burgers.
The Bison who pooed, wearing his latest leafy fashion.
Before visiting Lone Elk Park, I had read a book called "St. Louis Parks" by NiNi Harris and Esley Hamilton in which they briefly described the park's history. The park was named because during the Korean war, the Army rounded up and killed most of the Elk population. Years later, according to an article by Esley Hamilton in The St. Louis Post Dispatch, when the county parks director Wayne C. Kennedy acquired the land and one lone elk was found wandering in it, the public requested that the park be turned into a wildlife area.
This park has a trail, barbecue and picnic areas and paved roads for driving around and viewing the animals. We were respectful, conscientious visitors of Lone Elk Park who enjoyed watching deer, elk, and bison up close in their routine activities. We also enjoyed not being head-butted by a bison.
Comments