Exploring the Spring Mountains in southern Nevada last November, Bob spotted something. We stopped the Jeep on the gravel trail, and I pointed my camera. Snap. Snap.
But the view wasn’t quite right. We drove a little further, parked the Jeep, and struck out on foot to hike our favorite trail. Yes. They were far away, but the view was better. Can you see them? Wild horses. Out west.
They were quite a ways away… See the hillside coming down from the left side of the photo? The horses were grazing along that ridge toward the bottom where the ridge line vanishes into the brush. Yep! That far away. Here’s a closer look:
So we hiked upward, turning around every now and then to track their progress along the next ridge.
They didn’t meander as much as we did, though they had wandered closer to the road by the time we finished our hike and were back in the Jeep, headed out. The sun was at a perfect angle it seemed, so we stopped again. I hopped out of the Jeep to snap a few (okay more than a few) photos:
As I clicked away, a couple of the larger horses trotted down the ridge line, one chasing the other:
It was an amazing moment. We were now within a few hundred yards of some of the last free-ranging horses in the country. In the thousands of fenceless terrain comprising the national lands we were on, we felt incredibly thankful for this special gift.
So I slowly climbed back into the Jeep, we bid them a fond farewell, and left them to their peaceful life in the wild.