Where does the time go?

 

Shame be to me for ignoring you for so long!  Where has the time gone?  I must have been dreaming again.  And you know, when I dream...well...I dream wild!

Last month City Boy and I took a little road trip to my favorite destination; Harney County!  I was, naturally, in heaven.  Absolute heaven...except for one little thing.  City Boy decided we were not bringing the horse trailer with us.  

Say, what???

No trailer is an issue, because it simply means I will need to return, because of course I will see a horse that I simply must have and bring home.  Right?  Indeed!  Little Chase, the three year old gelding, found an adopter.  Impulse, too...she left this morning.  Grace has been sold and will be going shortly, and that rascal of a blue eyed pony, Spud Muffin, has found a home with more ponies and will soon be pulling a chuckwagon.  

I know, right?  It's been a long time and I've not shared nearly enough information with you!  I'm so bad.  But just look at that gelding there...he's only a yearling, and a moose!  I needed to make room for him...but where is my horse trailer?

Back to Harney County.  There have been fires and droughts and emergency gathers of wild mustangs, meaning the holding facility is filled to the brim with countless lovelies who are simply calling my name.  How, I ask you, am I to leave here without one?  Where is that horse trailer?  What was City Boy thinking?  Is that not just the most adorable little cremello pony mare up there?  Oh, I'd have died for her as a child.

And this adorable face.  Is that an adorable face, or what?  Who says mustangs have big jug heads?  They didn't meet this sweet filly, to be sure.  She came to the fence.  She visited with us.  She wanted to load into a trailer...she did!  I promise you!

I can't quite say that for the boys below.  They were newly gathered and just a little nervous.  But boy, some beauties there for sure, and in a couple of months they'll be settled in and following hay wagons just like they've always done it.

Yes, several horses of all different sizes and colors to fall in love with.  My trailer, City Boy?  Look at this family, here.  I have a three horse trailer...I could bring all three home!  If my trailer was here, that is.

Seriously...why not just stick a knife in my heart?  Will you look at this filly?  To die for.  Truly!

You know how it feels when you've eaten too many chocolates?  Well, I sure do.  You get woozy and a little sick to your stomach.  Not so when viewing mustangs.  You can never see or have too many.  Ever.

Stop!

Hold everything!!!

Who is that?  Oh, my...who is that?  Gulp. Gasp.  Sputter.  I'm feeling more than woozy.  My knees are weakening.  My mouth is dry...where did all the air go?

Now, this...this is what I'm here for.  Long legs, shapely hips, and those flirtatious eyes!  Uh huh...this is the one.  There is no doubt in my mind.  This is my horse.

Trailer!  My kingdom for a horse trailer!  Well, I have no choice.  She came to the fence.  She sniffed me.  She's left her mark.  I must return.

 

 To be continued...

Weekend Getaway with Wild Horses

Recently, Darling and I traveled south for a couple days to visit our favorite ponies, the wild mustangs of the South Steens, bringing along my niece, Miss Banana Head.  Her Christmas gift this past year was a trip to Oregon with us, and it only took us six months to get it done.  Was it worth the wait?  You bet it was!

Miss Banana visits with a yearling at the Wild Horse Corrals

As is our custom, we left our home late in the day, traveling through the night, in the dark, across mountain passes from Northwest Washington  and down into Oregon.  By the time we hit Grass Valley, Oregon, the sky had the first hint of dawn's early light, and Darling took over the driving while I snored away in the passenger seat.  We pulled into the Wild Horse Corrals about mid morning, surprised to see the gate open since they're normally closed on weekends.  But lucky us, there was a special tour going on, so in we went, waved at some friends who work with the BLM, and made our way out back to investigate the horses.  Both Darling and Miss Banana made friends with a couple of curious yearling geldings.

Our stay at the corrals was brief...a happy, unexpected stop on Saturday morning.  We were back on the road within 30 minutes, heading to the Bell A ranch where the High Desert Cutters were holding one of their summer competitions.

Cutting is fun...but certainly better when you're riding a mustang!  Here is one of the BLM wranglers, who has both Quarter Horses and a handful of mustangs that she rides.  In this particular class, she's riding her 3 year old South Steens mustang, Junior, who is learning the basics this year.  Most of the horses in these classes are ranch horses, used every day to drive cattle, rope, drag calves to brandings, etc, so they're much taller than what we see at cuttings in my neck of the woods.  It always makes me giggle just a bit (inwardly, of course...!) when I hear folks talk about mustangs being small and scrawny.  Maybe they need to meet Junior?

Crystal Crane Hot Springs at dawn 

From the cutting, we made our way south toward Crane, Oregon.  This was a bit of a new direction for us, but I'd found a lovely little place to stay called Crystal Crane Hot Springs.  You rent a cabin, and if you're lucky you get the one with the little half bath or you're stuck using the community restroom.  We were lucky.

The hot springs had a naturally heated pool, which was 97 degrees the day we were there.  Oh...so warm!  We waded about in it before the mosquitoes came out in the evening, and I decided I need a hot spring in my backyard.  Do you think they sell them at Wally World?

The following morning we were up early, with an anxious Banana Head waiting to see what she'd traveled so many miles for.  Wild Horses!  

The Hollywood Herd

We spotted them up along a ridge, about a mile from the road.  The highway through the desert has extremely wide shoulders, making it quite easy to pull a vehicle off the road and park it, which is what we did.  We climbed over the fence that keeps horses from wandering onto the the highway and began our trek up the hill.

This particular group of mustangs are known as the Hollywood Herd, as they are typically hanging out not far from the road where people can see them.  Photographers visit frequently, and the horses are typically pretty content to just hang out, so long as the two legged intruders don't appear threatening.  The three of us didn't walk straight into the herd, but weaved back and forth, meandering a bit, casually approaching and trying to give the feeling of, "Oh, we're just out for a Sunday stroll.  Didn't see you there, how are you doing today?  Well, we'll just park ourselves over here and rest a bit, if you don't mind," so as not to alarm anyone.

Sox let's Cruiser know that Chenoa is off limits

We saw many faces familiar to us, introducing them to Miss Banana Head so that she, too, could know them.  I didn't get a solid count, but there were roughly 70 wild mustangs standing up there with us.  The South Steens has 130,000 acres set aside, and a recent fly over showed a count of 330 head of horses, not including this years foal crop.  By next fall, they will likely gather horses off this range again, placing many up for adoption.

Miss Banana gave Faith her name during this visit.

While many mustangs are put up for adoption, there are several who are left out in the wild.  For instance, Faith, the mare on the left.  We first saw her after the last gather in 2009.  She was at the wild horse corrals where she'd been kept over the course of the winter and following spring.  She'd foaled, a lovely colt that was marked just like her, and once he was weaned, she was returned to her mountain.  

New to the Hollywood Herd is Drifter, a striking palomino pinto stallion who'd been spotted earlier this year in the back country.  At some point, he began hanging about on the fringe of Ranger's band, slowly working his way into being accepted.  The Hollywood Herd is made up of several smaller bands, which change now and then, but mainly stay with the same core group.  Stallions, unlike what most of us imagine, allow other stallions into their band, but typically it's a senior stallion and a junior stallion, and no more than that.  Drifter is now Ranger's junior stallion, and as such, he has a job to do.  

At one point, Ranger and his band wandered down the hill a ways, but a sleeping colt was left behind.  When he woke up, he galloped and whinnied frantically, looking for his mother.  While his mother paid little heed, Drifter heard and recognized the voice of the colt.  From 1000 feet away, he stood and called to the colt.  When the colt finally realized where his band was, he started down the hill.  Drifter came charging up to gather him, pinning his ears in mock anger, scolding the colt for not paying attention.  All was good and safe this time, but a lagging colt could bring danger not only to himself, but the entire band, and Drifter wanted to make that clear.  I find it absolutely amazing how this horse stepped right up to the plate after being allowed to join up with the others.  If something ever happens to Ranger, Drifter will be right there to take care of his band.

Majesty, a lovely Silver Dapple in color, was put down due to severe injuries.

Two horses we missed seeing on the mountain this visit were Majesty, who suffered a fatal injury earlier this year.  He leaves behind a legacy of silver dapple offspring on the mountain.  Majesty had a second in command; One Eared Jack.  When we lost Majesty, the mares simply followed Jack, with little disruption to the band.

By stark contrast, Golden Boy had no other stallion with him.  Often found just outside of the Hollywood crowd, GB was a loner who kept to himself.  He had a colorful group of mares, and they were highly devoted to him.  While other stallions had skirmishes and lost or gained mares throughout the year, Golden Boy held fast to his mares since the last gather.  He was wise and cagey...but about the time of our visit, something had happened to him.  One of photographer friends had spotted him with an injury, and it didn't look good.

Golden Boy, as we last saw him in October 2011.  May he rest in peace.

She took video of the stallion, who was having trouble walking, and showed it to the folks at the BLM, who agreed that our lovely boy here was not only in severe pain, but likely would never recover.  By the time they located him again, he had his mares up against the rimrock, where he could more easily defend them.  Stallions, bachelors without their own mares for the most part, were swarming like sharks.  They knew the old stallion was fading, and they were going in for the kill.  One of those stallions was Blue, a scrappy roan who sparred frequently with other stallions, but never seemed to end up with any mares.  He went into the battle early, wearing down Golden Boy, making it easier for other stallions to strike.  What was amazing to Barbara was how the mares in GB's band were fighting off the unwanted advances of these outside stallions, as well.  

Not everything on the mountain is beautiful and peaceful.  We are so thankful that the BLM is willing to end the suffering of a horse in pain, rather than allow them to be torn to shreds until death.  Some folks may disagree...but in my mind, it is hardly debatable.  Had Golden Boy had a junior in command, the battling likely wouldn't have taken place, and who knows if it would have changed the outcome of Golden Boy's fate?  That is one thing we'll never know, but he certainly wouldn't have had to fend off the advances of others in his weakened state.  But that was the way he chose to live, and he fought a valiant fight until the end.

We knew that Golden Boy was missing during our trip, and that he was hurt, but most of what happened we didn't find out about until we returned home the following day.  For us, it was still a warm, sunny, and joyful trip, full of adventure and new babies, such as Zephyr!  Is this blue eyed baby not just the most beautiful thing you've seen?

Zephyr is out of a mare named Chinook.  

Sunday night put us back in Burns, quite ready to sleep after a long, successful day on the mountain with our wild ones.  Come Monday, we'd be on our way home, but not without a morning hay ride during feeding time at the Wild Horse Corrals.

 Sorrel two year old gelding could just be what I need.

(Yes, I said need!)

This is when I like to take a look at potential prospects.  (Shhhh...don't let City Boy read this part!)  I'm always, always, always looking for that horse that may just make the perfect mustang cutter, and these two super cute geldings really caught my eye!

This three year old hails from Coyote Lakes, same HMA as Tika.

From here, we were back on the road, ready for our 12 hour drive home.  A couple of stops along the way, first to eat ice cream cones in Shaniko, and then a quick tour of the Maryhill Museum.  It was a wonderful trip.  Hope you enjoyed it!

Sculpture at the Maryhill Museum, just above the Columbia River.

The Legend is Here

The weather went from snow to 40 plus degrees on Tuesday. Crazy, bi-polar, Harney County weather. I must say the drive home on Wednesday was less than ideal. Two solid hours of heavy fog in 12 degrees does not make for carefree driving. Thankfully, it was sitting just high enough above the road for us to have good visibility...but we sure were happy once we were over the hill and away from it!

We arrived on Monday afternoon in plenty of time to stop and take a visit at the corrals. Plenty of lovelies waiting to be adopted, including these yearling fillies. Don't you just want to bring a dozen home?

We'd wandered two thirds of the way around before we came to a pen full of recently gelded stallions. It took me a while to realize that Dario was among them. Why it took me so long, I do not know, as he stood out like a sore thumb in that pen of dark horses!

Our goal had been to make it up to the South Steens by sunset. Alas, we were running late, and by the time we unloaded our belongings into our rented cabin, the darkness had settled around us. With a nearly full moon, however, we decided to hit the trail into mustang country just the same.

In the dark, everything looks different. Spotting horses can by tricky enough in the daylight, but in the shadows of the sage, it would be nearly impossible. Or so I thought, until Deb hollered out, "There! See it? I see a horse like shadow."

We carefully picked our way across the desert floor towards the shadow, which for some reason wasn't moving any more than the sage around us. But there was no mistaking the outline of a horse...so just who was this mustang before us?

A few more yards and we could make out Holly, the coming two year old daughter of Noelle. She was sleeping contentedly until we had stumbled upon her. Never one to have been very fearful of us, Holly continued to stand, relaxed, as we photographed her in the dark. This truly is a lovely young mare. If she is gathered off the range next fall (which is the next scheduled gather), she will make someone a very nice horse.

Wednesday morning had us up early, ready to load up and head home. Legendario was waiting. I snapped a few photos, and sent one to his future adopter via my cell phone while I was at it (don't you love cell phones and what they can do?!)

Aside from the fog, the drive was smooth sailing. It's a 12 hour drive from my place to the corrals, and by the time we arrived back here, Dario was exhausted. I can't even imagine what must go through the mind of a mustang in the months between gather and becoming gentled. Thankfully, they are a very forgiving and adaptable creature. Let's hope Legendario makes the transition smoothly!

Call of the Wild

I am a little fish
with great big Dreams
Sometimes my dreams are so big
I feel my head may EXPLODE

My dreams lift me high
like a hot air Balloon
Where I float and soar
in my Fantasy World

Until someone comes along with a pin
and POP!
my dreams are deflated...
and I wonder, shall I'll dream no more?

***************



Allow me to introduce you to Legendario

Dario was eight years old when gathered last August from Riddle Mountain in Oregon. He is one of the famous Kiger Mustangs...though not in the preferred (and usual) color. Dario is, obviously, gray! This made him less sought after than the other Kigers, and during the adoption in October, he (along with most other aged stallions) was passed by.

All Kigers who were not adopted in person while we were there last fall were placed on the online internet adoption a month later. All horses, including Legendario, received bids. Except that something happened...and we soon heard that the bidder on horse number 1230 was not taking him. My guess is, they bid on a couple of horses, and they won the bid on more than one, so took their favorite and backed out of the other...being this gray stallion.

Now, I just happen to know someone who'd looking for a nice, stout horse. A mustang, of course. And he's been wanting me to locate such a horse and gentle it for him. I'd found a couple of nice two year olds and we'd planned on picking one up at the first of the year (when they are officially three and eligible for the trainer incentive program), but they ended up being shipped east to another facility, so that was a no-go.

But when no one took the gray, I asked the BLM if they'd consider placing him as a TIP horse. Normally, a gray horse isn't eligible (people tend to leave bays, blacks, sorrels and browns behind, while fancy colors get selected for adoption), but due to his age, they opted to allow it.

And so the gray stallion was gelded the beginning of the year, and today...this afternoon...I will head south to pick up this living legend, this Kiger of a different color. His would be adopter hadn't come up with a name for him, so I did it for him. It's fitting, I think.

Legendario


photo by Matt Clark

Impulsive Moment...

Call it an impulse buy...call it a reflex...call it an accidental bid. All are true! In fact, they are so true that the Kiger community have begun calling her Impulse.

City Boy seems to be somewhat smitten with her. She's no Lefty, of course (no one ever will be), but there is something to her, something that gives a hint to a sweet lady who'll take you down the trail without complaint. It will be fun to see how she progresses.

We had one more day in Burns; a day without Kigers or wild horse corrals. We were heading up to the mountain again in search of more wild ponies. This time, rather than heading down past the water hole, I pointed toward Burnt Car Rd (so named for the burnt car at the end of it), and City Boy turned the Dodge to the right and headed up the hill.

Burnt Car is where Darling and I first met the love of her equine life...Dibs. My, how long ago that seems! It's where we met and named Honor, Sox, and Darling Calls Dibs. Who else was there then? Cascade was there; so was Golden Boy. Bird, Gunner and Raven, all later gathered and adopted out. Last Cry was there...we hadn't known it would be the only time we'd see him. A friend photographed him last year and he was a walking skeleton...so sad. But mostly our memories of that hill are good ones.

But as we drove, I think the others had their doubts about this new direction. Up on the horizon, though...what was that shape I saw? I studied, quietly from the back seat, not saying anything until I knew for sure. Horse on the horizon!

She? He? I haven't a clue. It stood like a sentry overlooking the valleys on both sides. We climbed slowly over the knoll, and up ahead we spotted our friends Cortez, Noelle and Holly walking up from the shaded region below. Yet off to the left is where my attention was diverted. Horses I'd not met before, though at least one who's been spotted by a couple other photographers now and again. The elusive silver bay...

He is not one known to tolerate company. He has charged a photographer. He runs his herd off. And he is definitely not one to be spotted with the rest of our well known cast of characters. But on this day, he didn't charge, and while they didn't stick around long, it was long enough to get some lovely shots of him and his band.

Another sentry, posted at the opposite end. A black horse reminding me so much of Sox on my first visit...young, not quite enough seniority to join the band. He paced the ridge, looking down below, sensing and seeing danger approaching...

But the danger he saw was not us. It was Cortez, the lovable rascal who's always in scrapes and fights with every stallion he comes across. The elusive Silver Bay and the rest of his band moved silently out beyond the tall grasses and disappeared from sight. Cortez and his ladies, however, did not seem the least bit fazed by the goings on of the horses on the ridge. They simply marched on up the hill, pausing to look at us, then continuing on their journey.

I told you they paused to look! Holly stopped at stared at my father for the longest time before following her mother and stallion up the hill. It's so hard to believe that Holly is just 18 months old. Look how tall that girl is! I swear she's at least 15 hands already. And pregnant...she looks very pregnant.

Down below to our right we could see more horses, so we trekked the half mile or so across the desert and got some good shots of some dear friends, including a mare who's stolen my wild side heart...Delight! And look at that new baby of hers! Delight lost her foal last year. We don't know what happened to it, but after a couple of months, it disappeared. We sure hope that doesn't happen again. Delight is in Golden Boy's band still, and there are a few pinto babies...but Delight's by far is the cutest!

We walked back to the road (well...gravel excuse for one) and started back the way we came, very happy with finding such a nice couple of bands. That's when I spotted more ears. Majesty, One Eared Jack, and their band were quickly spotted, and we made one more stop to snap a few more photos. We'd seen these horses two days before, but one can never have too many wild horse close encounters, can one? Another vehicle had stopped to talk to us when we pulled over, saying that Cortez had been by and fought a bit with Jack. When I started looking at photos once we were home, I thought Jack's eye looked a bit odd. I blew it up to get a better look.

Well, this is definitely not right. There'd been no trouble with it two days ago, so this was likely from his close encounter with Cortez. The other stallions do not like Cortez, but Jack is the most willing to engage in battle with him, it appears. And this time he seems to have come up short. The injured eye is normally blue. Not sure when I'll be back down to see if that eye heals up or not. If it doesn't, he'll not only be one eared Jack, but One Eyed Jack, as well.

Poor Jack...

The Unintended

I'd looked at the horses available so many times online prior to getting to Burns that I didn't give most of them a second glance. The three year old grulla mare made me smile...she was almost homely, poor thing, and small. A great kids horse, I'd imagined. Too bad I haven't got a kids camp. Ah, but then the crazy color people would bid her price up just because of that mouse gray hair of hers.

I wasn't so sure that City Boy's theory of Kigers have greater resale would hold true. A good, solid broke horse holds value, but I'm not sure a Kiger would get you anymore. Still, somehow, I ended up with a bidder number on Saturday morning. And once I had it in hand, I left the Kigers and went to see what else there was to see. I didn't really want a Kiger anyway. The last one, after all, had turned out to be a real firecracker.

Lots of pretty ponies out there. It seemed the only Kigers I was drawn to were the stallions. Before long it was noon, time to set ourselves down on the bleachers, catalog in hand, and listen to the auctioneer call out numbers and prices. My friend Emily, a college student who'd for years had wanted a mustang, was there with us, along with her mother. They were looking at a bay colt as a dressage prospect. I'd told them not a problem, bay Kigers aren't popular with the money crowd. Unfortunately, someone else was interested in that same bay Kiger, and a bidding war ensued! Finally, Emily's mom gave up, and the other interested party had themselves a nice two year old colt for $3500.

For the most part, the prices were affordable...though we had no intention of spending more than a few hundred, and of course the grullo colts that City Boy had been interested in went for a bit more than that. One dark dun colt with loads of stripes went for nearly $9000!

I was surprised that the four year old colts weren't being adopted. Some were really cute and for the base adoption fee of $125, you'd have yourself a very nice gelding. But they were a bit too small for City Boy, who would prefer a 15 hand horse.

As the numbers moved on, and horses were being bid on, my mom would show me the catalog and I'd mark down the prices on a separate sheet. We were about 70% through with the first go round when I twisted around to see a pretty faced mare in the catalog listed at 15 hands. My number shot up before I could think to remember just which horse this was, and before I could pull it down, they'd hollered out $125!, and then asked for more bids. So, I got the bidding started, and fully intended to not bid again, as I was having second thoughts. But...but...but...

Why wasn't anyone else bidding?

"Adopted!" they shouted. What? Why hadn't anyone else bid?

City Boy rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go see what you got." We walked out through the pens to the 2-3 year old mares. Immediate disappointment. What had I done? Oh, sure, she had a pretty enough face, and her eyes seemed kind. But look at those hips! What a weak hind end this mare had, and long back, and did I mention hips? Holstein Hips! Just like Sandy.

Just like Sandy...that thought ran through my mind, and I recalled the first time I'd seen that ratty looking bay mustang. Ugliest one of the lot, I'd told my friend Lea. Hmm....maybe this mare wouldn't be so bad. After all, you could do a lot worse than Sandy!