‘It’s not much more Americana than this’: Bison graze at Union Township farm, site of screening for Ken Burns’ new film
Daisy, who was bottle-fed and has one horn shorter than the other, ambled up to the fence first. Others soon followed, including Blackjack, one of three breed bulls at Broken Wagon Bison in Union Township, and Pink, named for the color of her tongue, unusual in the species.
Later, all three, and the rest of the herd at the farm, would swarm a trailer full of hay bales for the chance to snag a compressed alfalfa cube from Bud Koeppen, who owns the farm with his brother Wally and his wife, Ruth.
Roosevelt, another breed bull, and Blackjack mosey up to Bud Koeppen for their treats. Later, to keep Daisy from following the hayride back to the farm, Bud suggests dumping out the rest of the bucket of alfalfa cubes, which Bud said are horse treats, for her.
It worked.
“It’s not much more Americana than this,” Bud said, standing on the wagon between handing out treats and surveying the 160-acre farm, now home to around 130 bison.
At one time, bison — there are no American buffalo, Bud said, they are actually all bison — could be found across the land.
North America played host to 30 to 60 million bison before 1900, according to statistics from the National Bison Association; by the turn of that century, that number had dropped to fewer than 1,000 animals, before efforts were made to preserve and restore the species.
The herd now is estimated at 362,406, according to the NBA.
“The American bison suffered greatly. It was the culture of the time,” Bud said, as the conversation, often peppered with stories of the Old West and tales about bison breeders, veers to the wholesale slaughter of the ruminants.
“We’d like to see 1 million bison back in the country” and in North America, he said.
The best way to make that happen, Bud said, is to promote them as a food source and continue to increase the demand for bison meat on American dinner plates. “It’s always going to be higher priced. We’re not competing with beef — we’re competing with lobster,” he said.
Half-jokingly, and with the gag sunglasses to prove his point, Bud suggested serving bison on “Hump Wednesday,” whether it’s steak, meatloaf or tacos.
On Oct. 20 and 21, in conjunction with Lakeshore Public Media, Broken Wagon Bison will host a screening of Ken Burns’ newest documentary, “The American Buffalo.” Anyone interested in the screening can go to www.lakeshorepublicmedia.org/buffalo for more information and to register.
Bud said he’s seen the first 15 minutes of the movie and while his ranch isn’t featured, he knows many of the ranchers who are.
“They filmed places I know,” he said, adding he expects the documentary to increase interest in bison, including his.
The Koeppens started the bison herd on their third-generation family farm in 2003. Wally was a driver for United Parcel Service and Bud repaired cars.
They found out about bison farming from a friend who took pictures at Bud and Ruth’s wedding in 1979 and moved from Villa Park, Illinois to downstate Rockville. The Koeppens started with 10 bison, including a young breed bull they named Big John.
Big John died in January at age 21. Though his breeding days were over, he was still an attraction at the farm.
“He became a celebrity. He wasn’t an alpha any more but people came out to see him,” Ruth said.
The farm and its herd grew over time, with bison acquired from across the country and Canada, and so did interest. Visitors asked for bison meat before Broken Wagon was ready to produce its own, so for the first few years, the farm contracted out for it.
Now, all the meat sold at the farm is from the farm, save for the jerky, and that, too, will soon be made from the herd.
“I never would have imagined 120, 130 bison, or this store, or tours,” Bud said, looking around the store, which features a seating area with folding chairs for school groups, scouting troops, tours and other visitors who come by to learn more about bison.
The store has items made from bison hide, though those aren’t made on the farm, and a variety of stuffed animal bison large and small to tantalize the youngest of visitors. There are also T-shirts, puzzles and Native American-themed works of art crafted by local artisans, among other goods.
“He’s not normally a people person,” Ruth said of her husband, “but he found his passion and this brought it out.”
One of the displays at the store is a tri-fold poster, the kind used for science fairs and other school presentations, labeled “Walmart of the Plains.”
The poster notes the many ways in which bison were used by Native Americans beyond their meat and their pelts.
“They had well over 100 uses for the bison,” Bud said, adding the animal’s stomach was used as a cooking pot, its tail served as a fly swatter and the sack around a bison’s heart could be a bucket for transporting water.
The No. 1 question Bud hears from visitors is about buffalo, the common misnomer for American bison.
“There are no American buffalo. There are no buffalo in America,” he clarified, adding French settlers called oxen “les boefs,” setting off centuries’ worth of confusion.
There are buffalo — water buffalo — in Asia and Africa, Bud said, though water buffalo ground meat and cheese are imported and sold in this country as coming from buffalo, further confounding consumers who think they’re getting bison products.
“I don’t care if they sell it but be truthful in labeling,” Bud said.
American culture, though, is stuck on buffalo, misnomer or not.
“In this country we don’t have a Bison Bill Cody. It’s not in our culture,” he said.
The Koeppens are members of the NBA and travel around the country to conferences to network with other farmers and learn more about the animals.
They rattle off bison facts about breeding and maturity and though they are raising bison as a livelihood, they clearly have an affection for the animals, knowing their names and personalities while also acknowledging that the large mammals — bulls can weigh in at 2,300 pounds or more — are not to be trifled with.
“I’ve been banged a couple times, nothing serious,” Bud said, noting bison are not pets.
“We don’t treat them as cows,” Wally added. “We don’t walk amongst them.”
The newest addition to the herd is a calf born Oct. 2. Calves weigh 35 to 50 pounds at birth; the Koeppens aren’t sure yet of the calf’s gender.
“It was a surprise to us,” Wally said, adding each November, a veterinarian comes to give the bison vaccinations and do “preg checks” for pregnant heifers. Mating typically takes place in August or September and, with nine months for gestation, most calves are born in May or June.
Back in the field, the bison, who primarily eat hay, caught sight of Bud pulling the hay wagon and made a beeline within their fenced perimeter toward a red metal gate, like large dogs lining up for treats.
“Here they come. Come on, come on,” Bud called to the bison while Wally, driving a gator, went ahead to open the gate. Visitors ask how the Koeppens handle the bison to get them to go where they want to. “Open the gate and get out of the way,” Bud tells people.
The bison eat hay 200 days of the year — the Koeppens rent 110 acres to grow hay to feed the herd — and are pasture fed the rest of the time.
“They love a new field,” Bud said as the bison began to nibble on the grass.
He paused a minute, scanning the herd as he readied the alfalfa cubes.
“There’s that new baby, over on the left,” he gestured. “They’re born orange, not brown or black.”
Soon, the large creatures have made their way to the wagon. Daisy got a few scratches from Bud along with her alfalfa treats.
Roosevelt and Blackjack aren’t far behind.
For more on Broken Wagon Bison, go to https://brokenwagonbison.com/.
