By Christian Begeman

It was a still sub-zero morning in late February. The year was 2011 and the snow lay thick over the hills and valleys of the southern Black Hills. I was on my way to Montana for a conference and took a detour through one of my favorite places in South Dakota just to see what I could see. As usual, I was not disappointed. As I made a turn on a winding road that ran along a ravine between two sets of low hills, I saw a lone coyote standing still with his head tilted, as if listening for something. Luckily I was downwind and he was hungry so he paid no notice as I pulled over. I grabbed my camera, got out of my vehicle and slowly nestled in as close to the road barrier as possible to watch the show. Mr. Wile E. Coyote proceeded to slowly walk down the hillside, stopping to listen every few steps. After a couple minutes of this, he stopped statue still, cocked his head, and proceeded to pounce into the snow, burying his head up to his shoulders. After five seconds, he pulled out a fat rodent that he firmly held in his jaws. That was when he looked at me, turned away and continued his meal. It was like I was watching PBS’s Nature program in real life.

The setting was Wind Cave National Park — a place more known for what lies beneath the ground than what is above the ground. I find this quite ironic, as the park’s land is full of scenic beauty and breathtaking wildlife scenes all available from the comfort of your vehicle. For a guy like me that has a love for wildlife but isn’t in the best hiking shape, the place is a”must visit” every time I’m in the area.

Any time of the year offers a good chance to view a variety of creatures from mule deer to American bison and prairie dogs to the coyotes that hunt them. I particularly like to visit the park in the early winter as I’ve had good luck seeing and photographing what I consider one of the more photogenic wild creatures… the mighty wapiti or elk. The park has a fairly large herd of these beasts. They are not always the easiest to find, but I’ve had luck early in the morning along the park’s northern back road in early winter.

Elk are not only beautiful creatures to look at; they are also revered by Native American tribes and hold spiritual significance in their culture. There are legends of Elk Men who are credited with the invention of the flute that, when played correctly, had a magical way of attracting a mate. The elk’s symbolism of love and passion may have been simply derived from what the Plains Indians observed. The courageous and mighty bulls, crowned with a majestic set of antlers, were powerful figures as well as examples of something to emulate — specifically in how they fought for and defended their harems of devoted cows.

Late in the fall, you may be able to observe this fighting and defending between bull elks along Wind Cave’s Rankin Ridge. If you are lucky, you may also hear the bulls bugle. It is a sound that is unmistakable as well as impressive. I have yet to see or hear this at Wind Cave, but I did witness it at Yellowstone in the fall of 2010. It was one of those moments of nature that sticks with you. It is both the real and potential experiences like this that makes Wind Cave National Park’s aboveground features just as important and impressive as what lies beneath. Just don’t forget your camera!

Christian Begeman grew up in Isabel and now lives in Sioux Falls. When he’s not working at Midcontinent Communications he is often on the road photographing our prettiest spots around the state. Follow Begeman on his blog.

By Ken Blanchard

Driving north on Highway 63, a few miles out of Jonesboro, Arkansas, at about ten in the morning, I saw a coyote on the edge of the road. It was the best look I have yet enjoyed of North America’s ubiquitous wild dog. It was a darker shade of gray and rather more menacing in appearance than most photos I have seen. I fell immediately in love.

If you are a rancher in these Dakotas you may not share my sentiment. When I stopped for a bathroom break at Summit, I noticed an announcement for a coyote hunt. If you think I am about to tell you that hunting coyotes is bad, prepare to be disappointed. Though I do not hunt, I have no objections moral or otherwise to hunting. I am not at all offended by coyote hunting, my affections for the animal notwithstanding. This is just one of the many challenges that comprise the coyote’s environment.

They seem to be meeting the challenges rather well. I first heard a coyote chorus when I was backpacking in Theodore Roosevelt Park in North Dakota. First one howl came, and then dozens of answers from all directions. It came as an utter surprise and I am haunted by it still. I had the eerie thought at that moment that I was listening to ghosts.”Do they not know that the world has changed and they are no longer at home in it?” I asked my companion. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I heard it again not much later while sitting around a campfire in Craighead County Arkansas. If there were any coyote around my home town when I was a boy, I didn’t know about it and I certainly never heard them. They are there now, in force.

Coyote are everywhere now. They have taken to following golfers in the Bronx. They have been sighted on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. They are in Manhattan. Despite enormous efforts to eradicate them, they have flourished. We are their environment.

There is a kind of justice in this. It is almost certainly true that all human beings in North America came here from somewhere else. The same is true of wolves, according to Christopher Ketcham’s beautiful essay in Orion. The coyote began here, evolving some eleven million years ago.

No one has been better acquainted with the native canine than Native Americans. The Navajos tell wonderful stories about Coyote, a primordial trickster. Coyote is a deliciously ambiguous spirit, sometimes a hero but often a scoundrel. He causes lots of trouble for himself and everyone else by always pushing his luck and throwing caution to the wind. That, at any rate, is how I read the stories.

Recently I discovered some modern versions of the Coyote tales by Jim Bihyeh. You can listen to readings of these tales at Pseudopod.org, a site that offers readings of spooky stories each week. Look for episodes 159, 167, and 182. You can download them for free and listen to them on your computer or iPod. These stories are incredibly rich in mythic imagery and detail, placing ancient spirit world narratives and magical combat into very contemporary settings. You’ll thank me for the tip.

Meanwhile I will keep my eyes open for the trickster. Our fascination with animals is often a function of familiarity. German tourists will stop to take dozens of photos of a buffalo, while locals just honk them out of the way. Someone who has lived in downtown Saint Louis all his life will be tempted to take a snapshot of his first cow. Coyote may soon become so familiar that we will as surprised by one as by a squirrel. Just now, for most of us, they are on the edge. They have arrived to remind us that, while we live on this world and dominate so much of it, we will never own it or comprehend it. Coyote still has tricks up his sleeve.

Dr. Ken Blanchard is a professor of Political Science at Northern State University and writes for the Aberdeen American News and the blog South Dakota Politics.

Tag: coyote

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