Wild Horses in the West Desert

Here it is June and I haven't blogged since March. It's been "one thing after another" as they say. Life has settled down somewhat. Conor graduated from high school and will start at UVU this fall in the Biotech program.  (He says he will NOT clone a new youthful body for me. That's the gratitude I get.) Niamh will be in 10th grade this fall and is enjoying 4H horsemanship classes taught by Shauna Hatch.  I finally got back to my yoga and writing--I want to finish my novel by fall. It's just time. I'm also losing weight again and attempting to eat vegetarian/vegan most of the time.

I had such grand dreams of building a bunch of raised garden beds and enjoying home-grown greens and vegetables. There's always next year I suppose, but it galls me to have a backyard that is so under utilized now that my kids are teenagers. Gardening is good exercise, too!

Yesterday I finally did something I've wanted to do for a very long time--sighted wild horses! Before I got married, I hiked and camped all over this beautiful state. I can't count the times someone would tell me that just a few weeks before or after I'd been camping someplace they'd seen wild horses there. Really?! It seemed I was destined never to see mustangs in Utah--I'd hike down canyons where they were supposed to be, and they eluded me.

A coworker at UVU, Karen Olsen, had her husband, Eldon, contact me. His hobby is photographing wild horses. He was kind enough to offer to take Niamh and I. The look of awe on our faces was his reward I think! Eldon writes a blog about his trips and posts some pretty darn good photos on it. You can see his blog at: www.mustangsofutah/wordpress.com Eldon provided drinks, food, cameras, binoculars--he was really patient and let us stop to take photos anywhere we wanted.

The place he goes to most often is the Cedar Mountains in the desert west of Provo and Orem. In fact, if I recall the journey correctly, we drove through two valleys and mountain ranges. We were 120 miles west of  the Provo/Orem area.  We drove through Lehi, Eagle Mountain, Cedar Fort--this was as far west as I'd ever been in our county. We went through the Ochre Mountains that ring the west side of Utah Lake and our county. On the other side lies another valley which to the north lies Toole and the Salt Lake airport. Over another mountain range (which is nameless to me) and down into another valley, you can see Antelope Island to the north. This was my gauge of how far west we were going.  The last hour of the trip we drove down dirt roads through broad expanses of grass and sage that fold up into mountains odorous with juniper, built of black and brown volcanic rock. Antelope grazed in the grasslands while hawks and large crows circled.

The grass was yellow and light green--flowers still bloomed in scattered patches: purple nettle, Brigham's tea with small yellow blossoms. Eldon said that in spring, when the rains come, the cactus and other plants bloom with brilliant flowers. I'd love to see that. He said if it rains again, everything will bloom again--or else  it will burn to brown.

As we approached an area called Brown's Springs, Eldon pulled over. With binoculars, we scoured the western mountain ridges for horses. The day before, Eldon had seen  a large band here and hoped they'd come again. He said of all the times he's been out looking for wild horses, only once did he not see any. He goes often at all times of the year.  In a few years when he retires, he's thinking of starting a photography and wild mustang tour business. I honestly believe he'd succeed at it.  He knows these nameless roads and trails, knows the names of the BLM horse management areas.

Cedar Mountains at Sunset

Where does this love of wild horses come from for him? It all started with a mustang colt his uncle caught off the range. He was a sorrel with flaxen mane and tail, named Desert Storm. Go to Eldon's blog to see a picture of Desert Storm. He's got a photo posted of a band of horses from the area where Desert Storm was caught--all sorrel with flaxen mane and tail. They must have come from the same blood line. "I marvel at their alertness, their beauty, and their family ties," Eldon writes on his blog.

I also sensed while talking to Eldon on the drive, that he deeply loves Utah, its landscape and history. It's hard not to--I fell in love with Utah when I moved out here and used to hike and camp alot. I have lost touch with that love of wilderness, but  found it again out in the west desert.

Those close to me will know I've been frustrated and less than happy here in Utah for the past few years. I'd forgotten what made me fall in love with this state. This desert outing brought that love for this place back to me.

We stopped in a few places, got out binoculars and scoured the flatlands and mountain ridges. We saw hoof prints and piles of manure called "stud piles." No horses. We drove farther into the Cedar Mountains. The juniper trees grew taller as we ascended into the mountains. Yellow sprigs of Brigham's tea and purple nettle still bloomed. We came to Rydalch Pass and saw a Humane Society truck parked on the side of the road.

Down the road from the truck, we stopped and watched the sides of the pass and farther to the north a place called Brown's Springs where water is pumped out for cattle. The horses find water here. It was now getting close to 5 p.m. Eldon said when it's hot, the horses come down from the canyons out in the open to get water early in the morning and late in the afternoon or early evening.

A young woman name Kayl, turned out to be from the Human Society. She came walking up the road to Eldon's truck. She does research on the effects of the PZP contraceptive drugs being used to control herd numbers. She asked us very politely what our plans were--since we were here, the horses might not come and that interfered with her work. Another truck came down the road and stopped--and older man named David was out looking for mustangs as well. He and Kayla and Eldon swapped information. Kayla said there are about 500 wild horses in the Cedar Mountain HMA.

While I was listening to this conversation, I was still scouring the mountainside for horses. It was as though shadows beneath trees shifted, shimmered, transmuted into horses. They stood quietly--a small herd of mostly paints. And with them--a week-old foal born late in the season. I let the others know and we all started watching. The band of paints moved below our line of sight into a draw or small canyon. A few minutes later they came out of the draw and were close to the road. The white part of their  manes  and coats seemed almost translucent in the desert sun.

First Band Sighted--Mostly paints and what appears to be a cremello.  

One of the paints from the first band sighted. The multi-colored mane is beautiful.

From the first band--I can't tell if it's a palomino or cremello.

The week-old foal in the first band.

Eldon pointed out another band of horses coming around the bend, galloping down the dirt road. First I saw the dust cloud their passing created--then I saw them emerge from the dust that was back-lit by the evening sun. He and David walked down the road and hid behind trees to get as close as possible. He advised us to do the same--so Niamh and I hid behind juniper trees that were barely taller than us and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible.

The Second Band--this group had a few buckskins.

Checking out the homo sapiens from a distance. 

A few minutes later, I happened to glance over to the east side of the ridge where Brown's Springs is located. A third band had appeared--they had come from the small canyon between the two ridges. They were drinking from the cattle watering trough.

Keeping an eye on the humans while drinking from the water trough. 

This mustang fits one of the images I've always had in my mind.

Niamh took some of these photos--she did a good job! Thanks to Eldon for letting her use his telephoto lenses/digital camera.

Once each band spotted us, they moved away a small distance. Then they stood as still as elk do, watching you, still as trees on a windless day. I was surprised to see how small the bands were--I always assumed that wild herds were large. Perhaps they are elsewhere, I don't know. The horses looked healthy--only one band had a foal, the week-old foal born late in the season. The young woman from the Human Society documents the effectiveness of the contraceptives that are given by injection or dart gun. The contraceptive lasts for a year. It does not affect a fetus if the mare is already pregnant. But here's the problem--Eldon told me he's seen foals born as late as November or December. That's dangerous out in the wilderness. It's not a prime time to be born, to grow and gain strength. If there's a food shortage, I don't know how the mares could provide enough milk for their nursing foals.

I asked Kayla if the contraceptives are successful, would that be a good way to manage the wild horse population and keep them out on the range. She said yes, she thought that could work.

All three bands decided to move off to the west. They galloped down the road and off into the flatlands that tided into  sand flats and dunes off in the west towards Nevada. Dust clouds rose, and the horses seemed to disappear into the dust.

Off they go--they've had enough of us.

Heading west into the sand flats and dunes, towards Nevada and the setting sun.

Raising dust clouds at their passing. 

Sand dunes off in the distance. To the north is the Great Salt Lake. To the west lies Nevada. The horses have disappeared, ghost-like, into dust and sunlight.

There are so many opinions on what should be done with the mustangs. Some view them as an invasive, feral species that should be taken off the range--and there are horse lovers among this segment. Then there are the cattlemen who want to use the BLM land for their cattle. Others feel the mustangs are an important symbol of the history of the American West and should be left free to roam.

At this time there are approximately 30,000 wild horses being kept in feedlots at taxpayer expense. They are fed. They can't all be adopted out. Should they go to slaughter to be used as horse meat in foreign countries and the revenue used to fund programs to help manage the mustangs that are still free? Or should they be taken off the range all together?

Some will say we should all eat a lot less meat, freeing up range land for the mustang and other wildlife. Some will say we should move them off the range forever and stop wasting taxpayer money to round the horses up, feed them, and use contraceptives. Some want them in refuges.

After watching these horses out in the wild, I will say I hope that a place can be made for them to live out in the wild. It's not practical, that hope, is it? I'll admit that. I love domesticated horses--Niamh's passion is riding. I enjoy being around the horses and I'm learning to ride myself. I hope to own a horse one day. The relationship between horse and human can be a very powerful connection--learning to communicate with another species is a humbling experience. (That's a whole other discussion.)  David told me about his horse who'd been a great cow-cutting horse--he had to give him up five years ago when he developed back problems and couldn't ride anymore. Retired, he now goes off into the desert to find and watch mustangs.

There were four of us out there, all of us horse lovers, all of us riders in varying degrees of expertise, all of us close to domesticated horses. And yet, we still wanted to come out here and see the wild ones. Those mustangs I suspect, symbolize something different to each of us. Looking off into the west over the ridges and canyons that eased into  flatlands and sand dunes back-dropped by more mountains blue in the distance, I was overwhelmed by the vastness of this country. The silence around us was sacred--broken only by the crow's call and the soft thunder of hooves off in the distance .

In that regenerative quiet, I truly regretted the years then in which I gave up hiking and taking time to be out in wilderness. The mustangs brought this back to me. I want to return again not only to the Cedar Mountain range and the west desert--but I want to return to other places I have loved out here in Utah--Goblin Valley, the San Raphael Swell, Mt. Timpangoos, Mount Nebo, the Uintas, Kolob Canyon. It ties back to my search to regain my health so I can visit those places again. And a return to health is also a return to my soul, to those things that regenerate it.

Last night, there was lightening in the sky northwest of my home in Provo. I imagined it sparking over the Cedar Mountains and desert, illuminating the faces of mustangs, trees, stones, antelope, and hawk. It gave me peace and an unexplainable comfort to know that all that was still out there--for now.

One last look back at Sunset. We'll come back, my girl and I.