Up and coming

9 10 2026

If these kids are representative of the country’s young folks, we’re all gonna be OK. πŸ™‚

Earlier this week, Disappointment Valley and Spring Creek Basin – and one mustang band! – played host to a group of eighth-graders from Boulder’s Watershed School and three of their teachers. They got to see Buckeye’s band after a long drive from Meeker, where they’d camped after a great visit to the Wild Horse Refuge near Craig. Then they camped above Disappointment Creek, just outside Spring Creek Basin. In the morning, BLM range specialist and herd manager Anton Rambur and range tech Laura Heaton arrived to lead the students in a vegetation-monitoring project up the same hill. Tres Rios Field Office Manager Derek Padilla also came out to see and talk to the kids about the variety of land management that happens throughout BLM public lands in Southwest Colorado.

The kids spread out in small groups and pairs to conduct their utilization (grazed/ungrazed bits of galleta (a native, warm-season grass that’s growing after the recent rains) along lines of five steps at a time) under the watchful eye of Buckeye and the band.

And then, while they listened to Laura and Anton guide them about how to fill out their sheets with the information they’d gathered, Buckeye decided that he and the band were ready for their morning drink … which meant ambling up the trail … and giving the kids a good check-over … before heading down the other side of the hill to the water catchment.

Top THAT, any other school trip ever, anywhere! πŸ™‚

We stayed up top to listen to Derek and give the horses a chance to get down the hill, to the catchment to drink the lovely fresh rainwater in the trough … and they came up a different trail back to the top of the hill, checked us out again and returned to grazing.

Oh, my lovely, wonderful, awesome and amazing mustangs. πŸ™‚ You do me SO proud!

Then back down to the corrals and buses, where Anton and Laura helped them do the math involved in figuring out how much the horses are grazing in that area of the basin. At the end, I heard numbers ranging anywhere from 7 percent to 50 percent use/grazed plants, so even in our drought, we’re in good shape for the horses not eating everything in their paths. And the students learned a little bit about what BLM folks are looking at to manage the rangelands that support wild horses – and other grazing/browsing wildlife like elk, deer and pronghorns.

I got to talk more about PZP and show off my darting rifle and let some of the kids see how light it is and how quiet (no darts involved!). And I marveled the whole time at the insightful, curious questions the kids asked and the answers Anton and Laura gave to provide the kids with a well-rounded picture of what it takes to manage a herd of wild horses on public land in Colorado.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-mazing!

Here follow a load of pix of Watershed School students and teachers Amy, Diana and Pete, BLM’ers Laura, Anton and Derek … and the mustangs they got to see:

Laura points out characteristics of grasses to students. We saw past-prime cheat grass, and they concentrated on newly growing galleta. (We also saw Indian ricegrass, grama grass, alkali sacaton and/or sand dropseed (my hat is off to you if you can look at the latter two and tell them apart!)

Students examine a clump of grass that shows last year’s growth as well as recent growth.

Laura and Anton talk about how to measure clumps of grass. The idea was that the students walked five steps in a line, measured galleta at their toe or within reach … then another five steps … until they’d measured 10 samples. Teacher Amy is in the foreground (this is the second time she has brought one of her eighth-grade humanities classes to Spring Creek Basin; the last time, it poured rain! as you can see in these pix, they lucked out with spectacular October weather), and teacher Pete is in the brown hoodie and camp. … Start to notice the “little white dots” in the distance.

Teacher Diana is at right while the students watch Laura measure the grass clump. For a little perspective, I’m facing nearly directly north toward the main, west-ish part of Spring Creek Basin.

No mistaking that horizon. πŸ™‚ Laura helps one of the small groups of students with their monitoring while two other groups walk their lines in the background.

Boys walk their line with the basin’s south-facing rimrocks in the near distance and Utah’s La Sal Mountains in the far distance.

It’s hard to get a whole lot farther from Boulder than Disappointment Valley (OK, we’re not the *farthest* southwest corner of the state), but students were focused on the vegetation and their project. How cool is it that they’re able to take trips like this instead of learning from books only, only in a classroom?

Another pair walking their line with other groups in the distance. See that GREEN grass? Yeah, thank you, RAIN! A little goes a long way in this high desert.

Diana follows the boys back up the hill after they finished their line. Can’t get enough of that scenery.

All gathered again to ensure they’d filled out their sheets well. … There was math to come!

These city students were not afraid to drop to the ground among the grasses and shadscale and four-wing saltbush – and cacti!

Laura, left, and teachers Amy and Diana helped the kids with their utilization sheets (these are the same that BLM employees use while out monitoring rangelands). They’re a little hard to see (wide-angle lens, not my big gun), but look straight out over the kids’ heads. …

We were being watched!

Just like the evening before, Buckeye’s band was over the top of this hill, down toward the north. Here, they’re a little east of where they’d been previously. The previous evening, after they arrived, I hiked the kids out to the trees – there’s a little arroyo that starts there – and we picked up the trail to the west, which we took a bit farther left of where the horses are seen here.

I’m not sure how long we’d been on the hill, but we weren’t in a hurry, and the students were absorbed in their project. While they worked, I took pix and kept an eye on Buckeye’s band to gauge their comfort level (they were at least a few hundred yards away from us). By about this time, as the students were nearing the completion of the monitoring part of their project, I started to notice that the full band was appearing, and Buckeye was inching a bit closer. … And then it hit me: They want to make a trip up and over the hill and down to the catchment trough for their morning drink. Sure enough, they walked on up the trail, but where I thought they’d veer off more to the west and go down the trail I brought the kids up the evening before, those curious ponies came right up the trail to where the students were gathered! I cautioned everybody to just sit tight and stay fairly quiet and let the horses explore this mass of humanity on their usual empty route to water.

And the gathered group of students and adults got the mustang sighting of their lives. πŸ™‚

Pretty amazing, eh? πŸ™‚

While we were watching Buckeye’s band watching US, Tres Rios Field Office Manager Derek Padilla hiked up the hill to join us. He talked to the students about the variety of jobs available with the Bureau of Land Management (and U.S. Forest Service, where he spent the first 27 years of his 30-year land-management career) and the variety of ways BLM’ers manage the multiples uses that happen on public lands.

He and Buckeye might have worked it out between themselves because the band had plenty of time to head down the hill to water, drink and then return up a different trail.

After one last farewell to the ponies, the group returned down the hill to the buses to complete the math (!) part of the project and have some lunch and a last round of questions and answers with Laura and Anton.

Yes, math does have real-world applications. πŸ™‚ Laura and Anton helped students with the formulas to calculate the results of their utilization (grazed/ungrazed) survey. Results: The horses have plenty of forage, even after our stressful droughty summer. Whew.

Before they left, at least one of the teachers and a few of the students got to check out my darting rifle. It’s very lightweight, and it fires off of a CO2 cartridge (pressurized to the distance of a mare). NOTE: NO DARTS WERE IN THE RIFLE. I let them put some air in the rifle and pull the trigger to hear the sound and have the feel of it. A surprise to a couple: No kick. πŸ™‚

Kudos to these kids and their teachers for thinking outside the box and creating the experiential learning experiences Watershed School is known for. *I* sure never got to visit wild horses as part of any class trip, and I attended lots of schools in many states and Germany! They are super curious and intelligent and asked some of the best questions I’d ever heard – and I get a LOT of questions and have a lot of answers. Speaking for myself (I’m sure Laura and Anton and Derek would agree): We had a blast introducing these young folks to Disappointment Valley, Spring Creek Basin and (at least a few of) our amazing mustangs. πŸ™‚

You’re welcome back any time!

Thank you so much to these Watershed School teachers and students, and to Anton, Laura and Derek, and (I have to say it) to my boy Buckeye and his girls, for making this a fantastic visit and learning experience in Spring Creek Basin!





Going for green

8 10 2026

The carpet of green (it’s not exactly grass … some little forb-y something?) is SO green right now. It doesn’t really come across as green in this pic, which was moments before sunset, but the horses are *LOVING* it, whatever it is. That’s Maia, looking for a better patch, apparently. πŸ™‚





Iridescent

7 10 2026

Buckeye and another stallion keep peaceful watch over their bands under a little sundog.





Even the fastest mosey

6 10 2026

Heading up to one of the water catchments the other day, I was surprised to see a couple of pronghorn does heading on up past a band of horses that were already leaving the trough and also making their way to the top of the hill. I didn’t see them (any of them) drinking, but I *know* the horses had been, and I really hope the pronghorns are making use of the fresh rainwater, too.

No pix of the pronghorns and the horses together because they were far-ish, and I was still huffing and puffing my way up the hill, and I didn’t stop to offload and unload my pack. So what follows are sightings of the pronghorns after I was up and over the top, with another (second) band.

By the time I got atop the hill and was moving down toward a band of mustangs, I caught sight of one of the pronghorn does already down the broad other side.

My lens swung between horses and pronghorn, and I wondered where the other pronghorn had gone.

But for a while, only the one doe was visible, watching me watch the mustangs (and her).

She eventually went out of sight, and I figured that was the last I’d see of her. … Until she showed up with the second doe, walking not so much toward me but on a trajectory that was going to take them past me a lot closer than they had been. And then the second doe turned to look behind them – definitely NOT at the horses – and I started to wonder what SHE was looking at.

Ah ha! Mister handsome!

This shows his impressive horns better. And despite the fact that males shed the *outer* horns, they are horns, not antlers.

More from Google AI:

The Pronghorn (Antilocapra americana) is North America’s fastest land mammal, capable of reaching speeds up to 55–60 mph.

Physical Characteristics & Speed

  • Speed: Reaches top speeds of 55 to 60 mph, making it the second-fastest land animal globally (after the cheetah).
  • Anatomy: Features an oversized windpipe, heart, and lungs that process massive amounts of oxygen.
  • Horns: Possesses unique branched, pronged horns with a keratin sheath over a bony core that males shed annually.
  • Vision: Equipped with large eyes set high on the skull, providing a 320-degree field of vision to spot danger from miles away.

Habitat & Range

  • Geography: Endemic to the open plains, grasslands, and semidesert shrublands of western and central North America.
  • Local Presence: In Colorado Parks and Wildlife, they are commonly found on the eastern plains, mountain parks, and western shrublands.
  • Migration: Some herds migrate hundreds of miles seasonally to avoid deep winter snow that blocks access to food.

Diet & Behavior

  • Diet: Herbivores that primarily eat forbs (flowering plants), grasses, and shrubs like sagebrush (which they can digest despite its toxicity to other ungulates).
  • Reproduction: Mating occurs in early autumn (September), and females typically give birth to twin fawns in late May or June.
  • Predators: Vulnerable to coyotes, bobcats, wolves, bears, and golden eagles, which primarily target young fawns.

Pronghorns are fascinating critters. They’re not very widespread here, and there aren’t very many of them. Thankfully, there’s no hunting of pronghorns in our part of Colorado because there just aren’t very many. While I see them fairly often, I think there are only around 30ish. We do have coyotes and golden eagles, but in the open reaches of Disappointment Valley, those likely are their only predators. That said, there don’t ever seem to be *more* of them year to year.

From Wikipedia: “The pronghorn (UK: /ˈprΙ’Ε‹.hɔːrn/, US: /ˈprɔːŋ.-/)[4] (Antilocapra americana) is a species of artiodactyl (even-toed, hoofed) mammal indigenous to interior western and central North America. Though not an antelope, it is known colloquially in North America as the American antelope, prong buck, pronghorn antelope, and prairie antelope,[5] because it closely resembles the antelopes of the Old World and fills a similar ecological niche due to parallel evolution.[6] It is the only surviving member of the family Antilocapridae.[7]“

“The pronghorn is the fastest land mammal in the Americas, with running speeds up to 55Β mph (88.5Β km/h).” And if you’re lucky enough to see them, you can easily believe that. Even at what pronghorns themselves might consider “an easy lope,” they are FAST.

Pronghorns are awesome. πŸ™‚





Wild wander

5 10 2026

The last time I highlighted Skywalker, he was high atop the rimrocks, way northwest of these. Now he’s on a hill across a big drainage/arroyo below the rimrocks. The previous rimrock section was facing west; these bands are basically facing south.

Moments before sunset – which was well before 7 p.m. now – and the light was sublime on land and mustang.

They’re chasing the green grass actually growing after the recent rain (we got about three quarters of an inch over the course of about a week; not too bad for us!). So that’s been a lovely outcome from some much-needed and very-much-welcomed rain.





Illusion

4 10 2026

Oh my goodness, Mount Brumley is erupting!

Just kidding. πŸ™‚

That’s Brumley Point (it *looks* like an old volcano, doesn’t it?), and that’s not smoke, it’s a giant cloud, positioned juuuuuuuust so.

Rowan tried to help me illustrate the illusion, but we weren’t quite in the right alignment by then.

This might have been better as an April 1 post, but it’s October. Happy … *FALL*! πŸ™‚





Nope, not hiding

3 10 2026

Winona really thinks she can hide, I think. … Until I find her, that is, and she knows she’s found, and seen. She doesn’t know she’s loved, but that’s OK. πŸ™‚





Tarantula crossing

2 10 2026

‘Tis the season for tarantulas to look for mates, and this little fellow (they’re the ones who do the looking) was crossing Disappointment Road recently on just such a mission.

I stopped for a hopeful introduction (not like THAT!), but he was singleminded in his search, and clearly, my giant blue and yellow-leather glove did not at all look like what he was looking for. πŸ™‚

According to the Google machine:

Every fall, thousands of male Oklahoma brown tarantulas wander across southeastern Colorado to search for mates.

What is Happening

  • Not a Migration: People call it a migration, but it is actually a mating trek.
  • Only Males Walk: Mature male tarantulas (ages 8 to 10) leave their underground burrows for the first and only time in their lives to find females.
  • Staying Put: Female tarantulas stay safely inside their permanent burrows and rarely come out.

When and Where to Watch

  • Timing: Peak activity happens from mid-September through October.
  • Best Hour: The hour just before sunset is the best time to spot them as temperatures drop.
  • Location: Look around the Comanche National Grassland near La Junta, especially along Highways 109, 10, and 350.

Safety and Facts

  • Harmless to Humans: Their venom is weak and feels like a simple bee sting. They only bite if physically grabbed.
  • Main Hazard: The biggest danger to the spiders is vehicle traffic on rural roads.

*****

I’m glad I didn’t call it a migration! They’re on a *mating trek*. πŸ™‚

I even searched for “Southwest Colorado” tarantulas and got almost the same info as above with this addition: “often called Colorado browns.” And this disclaimer (?): “Tarantula mating season happens every fall in southeastern Colorado (near La Junta and the Comanche National Grassland), rather than in the southwest part of the state.” Um. With all due respect, monsieur Google, they ARE doing the same thing over here, and they do it every year.

It’s a *thing*, and I look forward to seeing the little guys. And while I watch carefully for them on the gravel and paved roads, it’s not always easy to avoid the poor critters. Wherever they are, watch for them and wish them well and lucky in love!

Actually, curious about how long that “luck” extends after mating, I put my musings to Google (aware that it’s already let me down by (as so many do) ignoring Southwest Colorado):

No, female tarantulas do not automatically kill the males after mating, though it absolutely can happen. The idea that a female always eats her mate is a common myth that is often exaggerated.

Whether a male survives depends on a mix of survival mechanics, biology, and timing:

The Mechanics of Survival

During mating, male tarantulas are fully aware of the danger. They have evolved physical adaptations specifically designed to keep them alive:

  • Tibial hooks: When a male approaches a female, he uses specialized hooks on his front legs to catch and pin back the female’s fangs.
  • The quick getaway: This hook system locks the female in place just long enough for the male to transfer his sperm. The moment he finishes, he releases her and runs away as fast as possible before she can react.

Why a Female Might Attack

If the male isn’t fast enough, or if the female is highly aggressive, sexual cannibalism does occur:

  • Hunger: If the female hasn’t eaten recently, she simply views the male as a highly convenient food source.
  • Nutritional boost: Consuming a male provides the female with a massive dose of protein and lipids. Studies show that females who eat a suitor often produce larger, healthier egg sacs.
  • Personality: Research has shown that a tarantula’s individual genetics dictate aggressiveness. Some aggressive females fail to distinguish between a mate and prey, attacking the male indiscriminately.

Ultimately, in the wild, many males successfully escape to find another mate. However, even if they escape the female, a male’s lifespan after reaching maturity is exceptionally short – usually less than a year –as they quickly succumb to exhaustion, predators, or the elements.

*****

I hope that gave you a bit of a chuckle while reading. I particularly appreciated that “the moment he finishes, he releases her and runs away as fast as possible before she can react”! And also, “if the female hasn’t eaten recently, she simply (simply!) views the male as a highly convenient food source”! I mean … the ladies are definitely at the top of the tarantula world, eh?!

*****

Hurricane Polo finally came through for us here in Southwest Colorado (speaking of being ignored, I watched a Denver weather woman nearly completely ignore us while talking about the rain coming into Colorado from Arizona and New Mexico via the hurricane; the closest she got was a brief mention of “the San Juans,” the mountain range east of our actual southwestern-most corner; she absolutely ignored the Western Slope and northwestern Colorado).

The soft, gentle, “female” rain as the DinΓ© (Navajo) call it is an absolute godsend. Maybe it will still give us some growth this fall. … We can hope (we’re pretty good at hope here in the Southwest :)).





Rainy little pop star

1 10 2026

Yes! That’s rain! That’s a kestrel in the rain! And if you look closely, you can see some raindrops bouncing off his shoulder.

What a gorgeous little splash of feathery autumn orange on a dreary – and utterly, gloriously WET – day!

Thank you, Hurricane Polo!





Come along?

30 09 2026

About a week ago, I was out with Flash’s band. They were browsing, and I was trying to catch a pic of them among the flowering chamisa (rabbitbrush), but no one was cooperating with heads high enough to see at least eyes. … I mean, didn’t they know I was trying to take *pictures*?! πŸ™‚ (Tis the season of rabbitbrush in the low country, which gives us our fall color as opposed to the showy aspen of the high country and the cottonwoods along the riparian ways.) Flash browsed along with them, until he sort of purposely marched off.

Not far away, he stopped, then turned back to look at his mares.

And I think he was saying, “Time to go for water, ladies.”

But the ladies were not done browsing, and not one of them paid him any mind at all.

He came back … went away again … still ignored. Interestingly, he seemed to want them to follow, and he never did move them (snake them) ahead. He waited, patiently (?), and I slipped away to leave them to their browsing and water-finding (they were immediately east of a deep-and-wide drainage).