The bison hooked him and tossed him in the air. He made a perfect flip.
On a July evening at Yellowstone's Bridge Bay Campground, a 65-year-old grandfather was lifted into the air and injured by a 2,000-pound bull bison after he and his grandson drew too close for photographs — a moment that distills a recurring tension between human longing to touch the wild and the wild's indifference to that longing. The bison, deep in breeding season and governed by instincts older than any park boundary, responded precisely as nature prepared it to. Yellowstone's warnings have long been clear, yet the camera's promise of closeness continues to draw people past the edges of safety.
- A bull bison weighing nearly a ton launched a 65-year-old man into the air with a single hook of its horn, sending him into a flip before he crashed to the ground with multiple injuries.
- The attack unfolded in seconds — what appeared to be a resting animal erupted into agitated thrashing, then a charge that pursued a fleeing truck before pivoting toward the grandfather and grandson running through the trees.
- July's peak mating season has flooded Yellowstone with both tourists and testosterone-charged bulls, creating a collision of maximum human presence and maximum animal unpredictability.
- Despite park rules mandating 25 yards of distance and warnings that bison injure more visitors than any other animal, footage from the scene shows the familiar pattern: people who believed they were close enough for a photograph, but not close enough for danger.
- The man was hospitalized; his condition and prognosis have not been released, and the incident stands as one of many that park officials have watched repeat across seasons and years.
Carl Isom-McDaniel and his grandson had raised their cameras toward a bull bison lying in the grass at Bridge Bay Campground, near Yellowstone Lake, on a Friday evening in July. It looked like the kind of scene visitors come to Yellowstone to find — a massive creature at rest, golden light, a memory worth keeping. Then the bison got up.
The animal thrashed onto its side in agitated, repeated motions before launching itself upright and charging. A white truck that had crept toward the scene tried to flee; the bison briefly pursued it, then turned toward the grandfather and grandson running through a stand of trees. Witness Mike Macleod, who filmed the encounter, watched the bison hook Isom-McDaniel with its left horn at the hip and toss him into the air. "He made a perfect flip and landed on his side," Macleod told the Cowboy State Daily. The 65-year-old sustained multiple injuries but remained conscious, reportedly joking with those around him before being hospitalized.
The National Park Service is unambiguous on the matter: bison injure more Yellowstone visitors than any other animal, and the mandatory buffer is 25 yards — roughly the length of a school bus — at all times. The animals can run three times faster than a human. Yet the footage from Bridge Bay shows what rangers see repeatedly: people who believed the distance was sufficient, or decided the photograph justified the risk.
July sharpens the danger. Nearly 60 percent of Yellowstone's annual visitors arrive during the summer months, precisely when bull bison enter breeding season and testosterone makes their behavior least predictable. Jennifer Barfield, a bison researcher at Colorado State University, noted that mating season fundamentally changes how the animals respond to proximity — her own team approaches them only from vehicles during this period. The 25-yard rule, she emphasized, is not a guideline. It is the minimum.
The bison at Bridge Bay was not a backdrop for a photograph. It was a 2,000-pound animal in the grip of breeding season, and it responded to closeness exactly as evolution had prepared it to.
Carl Isom-McDaniel and his grandson were standing what looked like a reasonable distance from a bull bison at Bridge Bay Campground near Yellowstone Lake on a Friday evening in July. The animal was lying in the grass. They raised their cameras. It seemed like the kind of moment visitors come to Yellowstone to capture—a massive creature at rest, the golden hour light, a memory to take home.
Then the bison got up.
The animal, weighing around 2,000 pounds, didn't simply stand. It thrashed onto its side in what witnesses described as agitated, repeated motions, then launched itself upright and charged. A white truck that had slowly approached the scene tried to flee; the bison pursued it briefly before pivoting toward the grandfather and grandson, who were now running through a thicket of trees. The animal moved with the kind of speed that makes the park's official warnings—that bison can run three times faster than humans—suddenly, viscerally real.
Mike Macleod, who recorded the incident, watched as the bison caught Isom-McDaniel. "The bison hooked him with his left horn on his hip and tossed him in the air," Macleod told the Cowboy State Daily. "He made a perfect flip and landed on his side." The 65-year-old sustained multiple injuries. Witnesses said he was conscious throughout, in pain but joking with those around him. He was hospitalized.
The incident is not anomalous. The National Park Service states plainly on its website that bison have injured more people in Yellowstone than any other animal. The park's guidance is equally clear: visitors should maintain at least 25 yards—roughly the length of a school bus—between themselves and any bison at all times, and should never approach one to photograph it. Yet the footage from Bridge Bay shows what park officials see repeatedly: people who believed they were far enough away, or who decided the photograph was worth the risk.
July compounds the problem. Nearly 60 percent of Yellowstone's annual visitation occurs during June, July, and August, flooding the park with people at precisely the moment when bison behavior becomes least predictable. July is peak breeding season for the animals. Testosterone levels in bulls spike. Jennifer Barfield, a scientific lead at Colorado's Laramie Foothills Bison Conservation Herd and a professor at Colorado State University, explained that mating season fundamentally alters how bison behave. "That's really going to drive their behaviour, and they're going to be potentially more unpredictable than at other times of the year," she said. Her own team avoids approaching bison during this period except from the safety of a vehicle. For people on foot, she emphasized, the 25-yard minimum is not a suggestion—it is the floor of what safety requires.
The National Park Service has not released details about Isom-McDaniel's condition or prognosis. The incident serves as a stark reminder of the gap between how wild animals appear in photographs and how they actually behave when approached. The bison at Bridge Bay was not a backdrop. It was a 2,000-pound animal in breeding season, and it responded to proximity the way millions of years of evolution had prepared it to respond.
Citas Notables
The bison hooked him with his left horn on his hip and tossed him in the air. He made a perfect flip and landed on his side.— Mike Macleod, witness who recorded the incident, to Cowboy State Daily
That's really going to drive their behaviour, and they're going to be potentially more unpredictable than at other times of the year.— Jennifer Barfield, Colorado State University, on bison behavior during mating season
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does July make this worse? It's not like the bison suddenly get bigger or faster.
No, but their minds change. Breeding season floods their system with hormones that make them territorial and volatile. A bison in July is not the same animal you might see in April. The park gets ten times the visitors, and the animals are at their most unpredictable. It's a collision waiting to happen.
The grandfather was conscious and joking after being tossed into the air by a 2,000-pound animal. How is that possible?
Adrenaline, partly. Shock. And maybe the fact that he landed on his side rather than his head or spine. But "conscious and joking" doesn't mean he wasn't badly hurt. He went to the hospital with multiple injuries. The lightness in his voice might have been a coping mechanism as much as anything else.
Do people actually read the 25-yard rule before they visit?
Some do. But there's a gap between reading a rule and believing it applies to you, especially when you see other people closer, or when the animal looks calm. The bison looked calm until it didn't. By then it was too late.
Could the park do more to enforce this?
That's the hard question. You can't station rangers everywhere. You can post signs, you can educate, but ultimately visitors have to choose to follow the guidance. This incident will probably make some people listen. Others will see the same video and think they'll be more careful, or luckier, or faster.
What does a bison's behavior look like right before it charges?
In this case, the thrashing—the repeated flopping on its side—was a warning sign. The animal was agitated. A person who knew what to look for might have recognized that as a moment to back away, not raise a camera. But most visitors don't know what to look for.