What's in a name? For us, it can be a magnetic draw whether it should be or not. And when the name is "Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump" it becomes a mandatory stop for the Vic & DH travelling circus. And joining the circus for this leg of the journey were my Aunt and Uncle from Calgary. We had recently reconnected and they have become avid followers of our blog which automatically gets them on our 'favourite people’ list. We had to work hard to find a couple of places near Calgary that they had not already been to a number of times but we did find a couple (unfortunately the Golpher Hole Museum wasn’t open for the season yet).

You probably won’t be shocked to hear that Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump was once a ‘buffalo jump’. And for those readers like Amanda M who just finished scoffing at this blindingly obvious observation, you are probably assuming that the ‘smashed in heads’ were those of the buffalos as they went tumbling over the jump/cliff. Blindingly obvious, but you would be very wrong!! According to legend, a young Blackfoot wanted to watch the buffalo plunge off the cliff from below, but was buried underneath the falling buffalo. He was later found dead under the pile of carcasses, where he had his head smashed in. With super thick skulls, the buffalos that were being driven over the cliff didn’t die from smashed in heads- at full gallop, the buffalo would fall from the weight of the herd pressing behind them, breaking their legs and rendering them immobile. After this, the buffalo would be killed by Indians waiting at the base of the cliff and carcasses were processed at a nearby camp. The majority of the buffalo carcass was used for a variety of purposes including food, from tools made from the bone, to the hide used to make dwellings and clothing.

The buffalo jump was used for 5,500 years by the indigenous peoples of the plains but was abandoned in the 19th century after European contact led to the near extinction of the buffalo herds. Only in the last 10 to 15 years can it be said that North American Bison have returned from the near extinction they faced in the 1890s. Herds once decimated to less than 2,000 in number (by European hunters not buffalo jumps) has, through careful breeding and nurturing, returned to an estimated total herd size in the 500,000 range (about 250,000 of which are based in Canada). This of course is a far cry from the approximate 50 million animals that roamed the western ranges prior to European settlement.

The actual Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump isn’t much more than a cliff at the edge of a plains area but the visitor centre is very informative and does help to make the history of the area come alive.

On the way back to Calgary, we had to stop in Vulcan because… well because it is named Vulcan (the planetary home of First Officer Mr. Spock of Star Trek fame). We were landing in Vulcan with (possibly) the only two people from Planet Earth who had never seen a single Star Trek episode between them so my Uncle Mel, in particular, was more than a little confused when we enthusiastically dressed him up in a proper Federation Starship uniform and handed him a phasor (set to stun). The town of Vulcan does embrace its ties to Spock, a fictional outer space character and each year it does host an annual community-wide Star Trek convention known as "Spock Days". This convention attracts hundreds of Star Trek fans from around the world so despite not being able to speak any Klingon, I suspect we may have unleashed my uncles inner Trekkie and he may be front and centre at the next convention.

Too soon, we had to pack up Billy Thunder and head east. Live long and prosper!