Chapter 9 Summary: Where Do They Put the Bison at Night?

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.

Summary

Roberson begins by recounting the creation of the National Park Service (NPS) under the 1916 Organic Act, which charged the agency with both conserving natural resources and providing for public enjoyment—a dual mandate that immediately leaned toward tourism development. She notes how Secretary of the Interior Franklin Lane encouraged NPS director Stephen Mather to treat the parks as a “national playground system,” leading to road construction, predator removal, and cooperation with automobile associations.

After this historical overview, Roberson drives to Great Basin National Park in remote Nevada. She visits the Great Basin Visitor Center in Baker (population 68), finds it dreary, and learns she must attend a ranger program to earn a Junior Ranger badge—the easiest option being a cave tour. She discovers that “Great Basin” refers to a watershed that drains inland, not to an ocean, and that the park protects forty caves, including Lehman Cave. On the tour, Ranger Green enforces strict precautions against white-nose syndrome, a bat disease, requiring her to clean her phone and change her shirt. Inside, the ranger explains how tourism had damaged the cave over the centuries; the NPS now works to repair that harm.

Above ground, Roberson drives the Wheeler Peak Scenic Drive, marveling at the change from desert to snow-covered peaks. She learns about bristlecone pines, the oldest nonclonal species on Earth, some living nearly 5,000 years. At the visitor center, Ranger Green teases her about her Junior Ranger activity answers, and a brief exchange about age ensues.

Roberson then drives to Yellowstone National Park to meet her childhood friend Greg, who works there each summer. She hits heavy “buffalo jam” traffic, caused by tourists stopping to photograph bison. She reflects on the damage roads do to ecosystems—fragmenting habitats, causing erosion, and encouraging further development—and the irony of people idling their cars to see nature. The chapter delves into the NPS’s historical practices, such as maintaining open-pit dumps to attract bears for tourist photos, and contrasts this with the fate of Niagara Falls, which was privatized by developers. Roberson questions her own complicity in mass tourism, noting that parks rely on visitor fees to cover part of their operating budget yet face an $18-billion maintenance backlog. She argues that nature has value beyond recreation and that using capitalist reasoning to defend preservation cuts off “the better parts of our soul.”

When Roberson finally meets Greg, the lost time prevents their planned backcountry camping. Instead, he gives her a tour of the concessioner employee area. She learns that most Yellowstone workers are employed by Xanterra, a company controlled by billionaire Philip Anschutz, and hears allegations of low pay and poor conditions. Greg shares how he still loves his job, enjoying backcountry camping and soaking in a hot spring where a bald eagle once flew by. They hike along the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, which Roberson notes is often overlooked yet features the 308-foot Lower Falls and ospreys. She ends the chapter feeling connected to the park through Greg’s experience.

Key Events

Roberson summarizes the creation of the National Park Service and the tensions in its dual mandate.
She visits Great Basin National Park, tours Lehman Cave, deals with white-nose syndrome precautions.
She learns about bristlecone pines and the Great Basin watershed.
She encounters a three-hour buffalo jam on the way to Yellowstone.
She critiques the paradox of tourism: roads and visitors damage the ecosystems they come to enjoy.
She meets Greg, who works for Yellowstone concessioner Xanterra.
They hike the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone instead of backcountry camping.
Greg shares anecdotes about employee hot springs and a bald eagle sighting.

Character Development

Blythe Roberson: Grapples with her own role in the tourism problem she criticizes. Her frustration during the buffalo jam leads to broader reflections on capitalism and nature’s intrinsic value. She becomes more aware of the sacrifices park employees make.
Greg: Depicted as a dedicated seasonal worker who finds magic in Yellowstone despite its flaws. His perspective helps Roberson see a more personal connection to the park.

Themes, Symbols, or Motifs

The preservation–tourism paradox: The central theme of the chapter, explored through history (Organic Act, Mission 66), the buffalo jam, and the cave tour. Roads and visitor development both enable access and harm ecosystems.
Capitalist frameworks for nature: Roberson critiques the idea that nature must be economically valuable to deserve protection. She argues for valuing ecosystems apart from human recreation.
“Buffalo jam” as metaphor: The traffic jam caused by a tourist photographing a bison symbolizes the overcrowding and disconnect that result when nature becomes a commodity.
Bristlecone pines: Represent longevity and resilience; they grow so slowly that some years they don’t add a ring, contrasting with humanity’s hurried tourism.
Employee hot spring and bald eagle: A small, authentic moment that contrasts with the industrial tourism apparatus—a symbol of the wild still persisting within the park system.

Why This Chapter Matters

Chapter 9 offers the book’s most direct historical and philosophical treatment of the tension between enjoyment and preservation. Roberson uses the National Park Service’s founding documents and the Mission 66 development project to show how tourism has always been prioritized. Her personal experiences—the dreary visitor center, the cave tour with its health precautions, the buffalo jam—illustrate the real-world consequences of that policy. The chapter also humanizes park workers through Greg, revealing the exploitation by concessioners and the small joys that keep them there. The closing hike along the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone provides a quiet counterpoint to the earlier frustrations, reminding readers that even in a crowded park, moments of genuine wonder remain.

Study Questions and Answers

1. What was the original purpose of the National Park Service according to the Organic Act, and how did early leaders interpret that mandate?
The Organic Act (1916) charged the NPS with conserving scenery, natural and historic objects, and wildlife while providing for public enjoyment in a way that leaves them unimpaired. Early leaders like Stephen Mather, encouraged by Interior Secretary Franklin Lane, interpreted this as a call to develop parks as a “national playground system,” building roads, trails, and facilities, and actively cooperating with tourist bureaus and automobile associations. This resulted in a bias toward tourism over preservation from the start.

2. How does Roberson use the example of the buffalo jam to critique the relationship between roads, tourism, and ecosystem damage?
The buffalo jam—three hours of idling traffic caused by a tourist photographing a bison—illustrates how roads designed to let people see wildlife also cause direct harm: they divert rainfall, cause erosion, fragment animal habitats, and encourage more development. Roberson points out that while the road allows access, it also turns the park into a destination for mass consumption, contributing to pollution and undermining the very “pristine” experience visitors seek.

3. What does Roberson learn about the employment structure at Yellowstone, and how does it shape her view of “America’s best idea”?
She discovers that most Yellowstone employees work not for the National Park Service but for concessioners like Xanterra, a company owned by billionaire Philip Anschutz. Workers report low pay and poor conditions (the company is nicknamed “Xanterrible”). This reveals that the park system relies on exploitative labor practices to serve tourists. The chapter suggests that the experience of nature is mediated by capitalism—both in how parks are funded and in how workers are treated—undermining the idealism of the national park concept.