Spectacularity

21 10 2026

In yesterday’s post, I promised for today’s post pix of a fairly stunning storm system that blew up over Disappointment Valley in the mid-or-so afternoon through sunset. This will be a photo-heavy (heavy on the heavy) post. The pix also are all from my phone. The immense scale simply wasn’t possible to capture with my long lens and narrow range of view. A few times, I wished I’d gone to the effort of getting my camera out of my backpack … but most of the time, I was too afraid to miss one second of what was happening, and, again, the sheer width of scale of the storm’s coverage across the horizon(s) was just too, well, wide.

I hate to be one of those telling you to “read through till the end” for the best part, but … well, let me know whether the final pix, of sunset light in the EAST, were worth waiting for.

Onward!

As wide a field of view as my phone can capture, it took four images, stitched into a panorama, to produce this image, looking from southeast at right to north-northeast at left. So if possible, imagine the scene not as a flat, two-dimensional view but as a curved (?) view. The storm definitely was coming from the southeast and moving north (left) … and around/beyond the basin, across the north, to the west? I sat for a long time at the main/original catchment watching it and taking pix as the sky evolved – in sunshine the entire time.

This was the first pic I actually took. There’s a pretty obvious downpour straight ahead, which is basically east-northeastish. It was not raining over Spring Creek Basin at this point, but the clouds were definitely shading the far, whole eastern horizon. Thunder was rumbling now and then, but I never saw lightning. The vast majority of the basin was under sunlight. There ARE mustangs way, way out, at the leftish side of the image.

A little more detail of the rain running across the landscape from near/over (?) Benchmark Lookout (at the leftish side of the dark hump of “hill” at far right) across upper Disappointment Valley and beyond Temple Butte (the edge of the promontory is just spotlit by a bit of sunlight).

And swinging a bit more to look east.

Meanwhile, a lighter rain system was moving north to the northWEST. You might be able to make out Utah’s La Sal Mountains through the curtain of rain (way) beyond Spring Creek canyon.

This is roughly what that looked like on the radar (a little delayed, I think). The blue dot was me, in the middle, in the sunshine. 🙂

There are the mountains; see ’em? I think the rain was moving across lower Disappointment Valley and maybe/probably not quite as far west as Utah. I’ve been in the same place taking all these pix (I sat there for quite a long time): at the road by the fenced-enclosed aprons that catch rain (and snow in the winter) and direct that water down to the 12,000-gallon green steel tank … and from there to the main water trough you can see downhill and to the right of the tank. (The farther, smaller, black trough is wired off because it’s a lot smaller, and darker, and the horses don’t prefer it. The big trough is the main trough. You can’t quite tell from this distance, but it has a triangular metal cover over it that enables the horses to get to the water and also helps prevent evaporation (or better than it would be if uncovered).)

And looking southeastish again. Apologies (not really) for the redundant pix … but this is one of my favorite views in the whole, great, wide and wild world … especially when it includes rain!

See how DARK it got to the northeast? Again, that’s beyond Spring Creek Basin – at least at this point (spoiler alert). But see that lit “column” of rain? Wild? I spent a lot of time and phone space taking pix of that cool thing as it moved with the storm system across the northern horizon toward the west (and I was in sunshine all the while).

Checking the progress of the rain to the east-southeast again. At this point, I think it was getting closer to Temple Butte – the rain, not just the shade of the rain clouds.

Another look up to the northeastish at that remarkable flame of spotlit rain. Notice, too, that we’re starting to get a great shadow of clouds over a great portion of the basin now. (I promise there were mustangs out there; I was watching about five bands way, way out while I watched the spectacular sky-show.)

I mean …

… it was …

… just soooooo …

… COOL!

Checking northwest again, over the canyon. That’s the north side at right, and you can just see part of the south side at far left. It’s not that wide; it curves a lot.

Ah! Rain has made it far enough west to cover Temple Butte (the promontory), at least, and maybe reaching McKenna Peak (the pyramid) and the eastern part of Spring Creek Basin. But note how sunny it still is.

Another very wide-angle view (just one frame). At farthest right, definitely getting rained on now: Temple Butte and McKenna Peak. At left, the remnants of that crazy … I don’t even know what to call that?! Looking like someone was shining a gigantic spotlight from the ground to the heavens. And still, I’m sitting in the sunshine.

At that point, I decided to head out. I wasn’t sure about crossing the V-arroyo (it gets pretty pillowy-muddy in heavy rain and is difficult to impossible to cross in that state), and most of the horses were well north of that point – and that’s before you even get to the first Spring Creek crossing. While thunder had been rumbling like a slightly disgruntled giant, I hadn’t seen any lightning, but in the wide open, I have a healthy respect for it (and a recent encounter of a near-simultaneous lightning-strike-thunder-CRACK is pretty close to front of mind lately).

Now I’m at Chrome’s Point in the far western part of Spring Creek Basin, and rain definitely is falling within the basin’s boundaries to the east. If you zoom in on Temple Butte and McKenna Peak, below the left base of McKenna in the golden-landscape area, you’ll see the fenced-in water-catchment aprons (looks a bit like a tennis court). On the road, just left of the far side of the fence corner is where I sat to take all the photos above this one.

And from Chrome’s Point looking northish (leftish is almost directly northish). Can you tell that the storm was moving across our north to the west (left)? I know that if you’re not familiar with the area, it’s hard!

So I left the basin thinking “what a great show put on by Mother Nature!” And also that at least the eastern-northeastern part of the basin looked to be getting some of the good wet stuff (which was not in the forecast, by the way). …

Yowza! That’s RAIN. Over SPRING CREEK BASIN! This is looking east while heading south on Disappointment Road, well west of the basin. …

Wait. What is that … ?

What that, you ask? THAT that!

It’s a DUST DEVIL. … With pouring rain in the background! Just like the weird rain column seen earlier from inside Spring Creek Basin, this dust devil was illuminated by the sunlight hitting that part of Disappointment Valley west of Spring Creek Basin (the ridge topped by rimrock at far right is part of the basin’s western boundary). See the far-far ridgeline curtained by rain? That’s the very same northeastern ridge that meets the sky in the previous pix taken within Spring Creek Basin.

I was so wowed that I was standing in the middle of the road holding my phone up and out in the classic pose as a truck was approaching. Fortunately, it was someone who knows me and knows my photo-centricity, and he kindly did not run me over. 🙂

Kinda great for zilch on the rain front in the forecast, eh? 🙂 And I will tell you that the ground was still satisfyingly damp out in the basin last night (as you read this), and now we have another day or three or five (who really knows?!) of rain chances in the forecast.

See the rainbow prism? That’s directly over Filly Peak in Spring Creek Basin.

Did I mention there’s snow again on the mountains on our northwestern horizon (Utah’s La Sals)? As a point of interest, Mount Peale is the highest peak in the range at “12,721 to 12,726 feet.” Moab is on the other side.

There was just about every bit of light imaginable during the time I watched the storm pass: glorious sunlight to dappled light to ominous rain-darkness. Something else interesting? I never got so much as sprinkled on, no matter where I was.

Oh yeah, and the light that produced multi-colored rainbow prisms (can you call it a rainbow if it doesn’t form a bow?). I think there were at least five, maybe six of these prisms. None formed a complete rainbow (if you can believe it), and none of them lasted very long … except this next one:

See the rainbow forming at upper left? (And check out that spotlight at farthest right!) Unfortunately, the prism was faint while the spotlight was on Buck Knob and its vibrant redrock layers, but, um, WOW.

It’s getting a little more visible …

The. Light. Was. Phenomenal.

The cottonwoods along the bottom of this pic line Disappointment Creek. Spring Creek is farther north, running out of Spring Creek Basin, which is to the right/east. They both run westish; Spring Creek runs into Disappointment Creek, and, eventually, FARTHER west, Disappointment Creek carries all its salt and sediment into the Dolores River. This view is looking purty near north. The shorter, yellow-y-er (that’s a word, creatively speaking) vegetation is willow and maybe some rabbitbrush/chamisa, too. The cottonwoods at this elevation are just starting to go gold.

Do you start to see why there are so many pix in this post?! The light KEPT CHANGING. What the heck are those beams right of center?! I never did figure it out.

Wide-wide view for perspective. The road runs straight east here.

And on I went up-valley (to the southeast). I mean, who knew what else Mother Nature had in store?

Disappointment Creek. Picture NO water here, and that’s what it usually looks like. This was when I first realized how heavy the rain must have been that I’d seen earlier … remember the very first pix at the top of this post? Spring Creek Basin is across the road (that I’m on) to the left.

It’s really hard to understand how this is such an astounding view if you don’t know what it usually looks like, but for one thing, there are usually giant rocks visible in the creek bed there.

This is Black Snag Road; Disappointment Road is about 100 yards behind me. … Actually, this is Disappointment Creek – err, river – making fun of the idea of there being a road under that rollin’ water (let alone a culvert … ha ha ha!?). This is where I wish I was adept at video and/or even knowing how to insert it. Because the sheer volume of NOISE (let alone water) was INCREDIBLE. Larry W. is the Dolores County road guy for this part of Disappointment Road; I couldn’t help but think of him while I watched this; it will fall to him to fix this … eventually.

That pile of dark dirt is sort of the edge of … well … where the water shouldn’t have gone around?! Seriously, do not mess with Mother Nature. She makes her own paths.

I’m not entirely sure where those rocks would have come from. I hadn’t been down to look at the crossing for quite a while until this moment, but the road is sort of … there.

It was hard to take a still pic that conveyed the noise and just sheer quantity of water rolling through the *ahem* creek bed. You see the rocks … and up to the right is a WAVE of mud-water. I think the culvert is sort of in that area? And/or rocks meant to stabilize it and the edge of the road.

Disappointment River. 🙂 Seriously.

Meanwhile, this was happening behind me (as I looked at the river, err, creek crossing); looking in this direction, the creek is behind me. Disappointment Road runs across the base of the pic; down-valley (northwestish) is left, and up-valley (southeastish) is right. The fence along the road – the boundary of Spring Creek Basin – is visible at left and right. The foreground is part of Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area, but Temple Butte – lit up at right – is outside the basin, as is McKenna Peak, the tip and eroded slopes of which are visible at left.

Nope, it was not over!

Disappointment Creek flowing downstream from just upstream of the Black Snag Road crossing.

It was *this* close to sunset. 🙂

Mother Nature wasn’t close to done for the day.

I mean … can you die of absolute, heart-bursting joy at the gorgeousity of the world?! Hopefully not; too much yet to see. I hope you’ve stuck with me. … Really, it gets BETTER.

Are you sitting down? You might want to sit down.

As I went back down-valley, THAT was happening behind me. Ahead of me (behind me as I take these pix), to the west, the clouds were nearly gone, the sky nearly clear again. The color was all back to the east. (Note: These horses are not in Spring Creek Basin. I’ve never crossed over here, but this sunset was too amazing not to share, and this is where I was when I saw it.)

My jaw might have been on the ground. I hope you find these colors and cloud shapes impressive. … The pix don’t really do it justice; it was one of the top most spectacular sunsets I’ve seen in my life.

I might finally have run out of words.

Was it worth it? 🙂

WHAT. A. DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mama Nature, I never cease to be amazed. Keep on rockin’, Lady.

Thanks for coming along. 🙂





Up and coming

9 10 2026

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

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! 🙂

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. 🙂 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. 🙂 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. 🙂

Pretty amazing, eh? 🙂

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. 🙂 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. 🙂

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. 🙂

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!





One more year till 20/25

19 09 2026

Next year, this date – Sept. 19 – will mark 20 years since I started documenting Spring Creek Basin’s mustangs.

TWENTY. YEARS.

Sometime next fall (I don’t remember that exact date now), I’ll mark *25* years since the first time I visited Spring Creek Basin – in the rain, in a van full of people I didn’t know, and we didn’t see horses because we never actually got *into* the basin (even if it had been dry, a van might not have been the best choice of vehicle?!). I went back soon after that by myself … and, well, now it’s been 24 years *this* fall. You know that saying “blood, sweat and tears”? Yeah … it’s been ALL of that … a whole lotta alla that.

That means this fall marks my 19th (today) and 24th anniversaries. I still find that pretty shocking to say out loud.

Two thousand seven was a roundup year in Spring Creek Basin. It was the third that decade (and we still had 2011 to come). BLM said the stallion known to most as Traveler (to me as Grey) would stay. They promised. … One guy broke that promise. … One guy made it right. Grey went to Cañon City, and about a week after he had been removed, we brought him back to Southwest Colorado, where his two-week quarantine turned into three weeks (courtesy of the promise-breaker). Four weeks after he left Spring Creek Basin, David and Pati Temple returned Grey/Traveler to the basin, Pati opened the trailer door, and he returned to his wild life, where he lived until his passing a few years ago.

Photo print of Grey by Claude Steelman moments after he was released Sept. 19, 2007, into Spring Creek Basin

“He’ll never have a band again,” the BLM promise-breaker said dismissively at the time. Within a month and a half, Grey had a band again.

Grey’s Return Day was Sept. 19, 2007. After the pomp of Grey’s momentous release (a couple of other people also were there, including renowned Durango-based wildlife photographer Claude Steelman), I stayed in the basin to start documenting every mustang I found. It took three months of weekends. Nineteen wild and crazy – and now, immensely satisfying – years ago.

Grey, toward the end of his life; we thought he was close to 30

So today, I celebrate both the anniversary of Grey’s return and release and the day I started documenting my beloved mustangs, what has become the path of my heart through this lifetime.

My *wall of Grey*; photos of Grey by me circa 2003-2004? Gorgeous painting of Grey by talented Colorado artist Teresa Irick (@tiartcreations on Instagram) based on a photo by me

When I first started this mustang-advocacy journey, 20 years into the future felt like some random date that would never arrive. Now, wow.

I want to do something kinda fun to mark the occasion next year, and this is a head’s up. A few of you have read and commented and shared the mustangs for a lot of years now, and I’d like to send you each a photo print of the mustangs. I probably haven’t taken it yet, but I have a year (!), and I’ll let you choose. You might know who you are. 🙂 I thought I’d also ask readers – on that date, and don’t worry, I’ll remind ya’ll ahead of time – to leave a comment on that post, and I’ll put all your names in a hat and mix ’em all up, and I’ll have a mustang friend pick a name and send that person a pic, too. I want to celebrate YOU who support and love these mustangs, too! There also are a handful of people who have been with me for long years on this mustang journey, and I want to recognize them, too (more about them next year).

Hollywood and his mares, 2019; Hollywood and Houdini are both gone now … Shane, Alegre and Maia are still together

When you’re starting a thing, you never know where that thing is going to go, how it’s going to go, how long it’ll go on. When you have a burning desire to do something strong, something worthwhile, again, you just never know. That’s the future. … That’s LIFE.

So many people have had a hand (even just some fingers) in the accomplishments realized for bettering the management and preservation of Spring Creek Basin’s mustangs, and I can’t even imagine (and I don’t wanna) what path my life would have followed if I hadn’t discovered this herd and all the amazing people I’ve met along the way. We’ve all shared something: love of horses. Love of WILD horses. Love of mustangs.

Remember that promise-breaker? I realized several years ago that I’m *grateful* to him. I definitely couldn’t see it at the time of what felt like deep betrayal by the system, but if not for that guy, would my Irish stubbornness have come to the fore and would I have dug my boots and heart so deep into ground I’d never known but has become my rooted ground?? As I said: *grateful*.

Winona with sons Cheveyo and Lyra; Lyra is gone now, and Cheveyo is a band stallion; Winona, of course, is one of our wise ones

And you know what? Holy … horse. 🙂 Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area today is one of the best managed herds in the country (if not the best? forgive me a tiny bit of bias, please, but I don’t know of any others quite like ours). I am so grateful to the BLM folks at Tres Rios Field Office who made that happen and continue to work with our shared goal in mind.

Because we shared a dream and a goal and got to work doing it, not sitting by waiting for someone else to come along and dig in and get ‘er done. I sure didn’t start that dream for Spring Creek Basin, but I tip my visor to those who did … those who welcomed me to the fold so I could join the journey to the goal. And in that time, we have gotten done EVERYTHING we’ve aimed to achieve … bar one that we haven’t gone full force on, and that’s in the hands of bureaucrats, really, which is unfortunate, but it’s still possible.

Comanche’s band in the dust of early summer, 2020

I’ll probably (of course I will) write another long-winded post about this on my actual 20th anniversary, but on this, my 19th, *thank you* to every single person who has given even the tiniest bit of love to Spring Creek Basin’s mustangs. My love and gratitude to each one of you.

And hang on for (at least!) another year, with the mustangs and me, to celebrate the big 2-0. 🙂 No worries: The 20th won’t be anywhere close to the end. To paraphrase something I heard someone say someone told him: I will continue to make as positive an impact as I can in all the time I’m given in and for Spring Creek Basin and its mustangs.

I’m so glad you’re here, with us.

*Grateful*

Comanche’s band, under the rainbow, 2020; Comanche also is gone now





Welcome rain

15 09 2026

We got some rain. 🙂 (Zoom in to see actual drops of actual, falling rain!)

A proper toad-gagger across Disappointment Valley and across Spring Creek Basin. Zoom in above to see rain drops. … This, pictured, was NOT the toad-gagger; that happened much earlier (before daylight). This was the third or fourth wave. A non-stop symphony of thunder banging the drums across the sky, and it was … *magnificent*.

THE best thing to do after getting rained on? Roll! Almost all the horses rolled when the rain stopped and they wandered out to resume browsing.

Ahhhh. Fresh.

Spring Creek was still running, though low, at the first crossing, but clearly it had run high! By the time I got there, the water definitely was slowing. I’d gone first to where Spring Creek runs under Road 19Q (Disappointment Road), before I went to Spring Creek Basin, and it was rolling along then and there like a proper creek).

Toad’s-eye view of Spring Creek looking upstream. That sky brought the next wave of rain – and thunder rolls.

Absolutely, absolutely fabulous. 🙂 And the forecast is looking extra promising this week (as long as said forecast proves accurate and doesn’t just bomb, as it has so often this year). Dance, pray and cross everything for us. 🙂

**********

In other news, some of you may remember that I was a member of the Colorado Wild Horse Working Group a couple of years ago. That group was created by Senate Bill 23-275 (2023) as part of the Wild Horse Project to enable the state to provide support to BLM’s management of wild horses in Colorado. A second bill, House Bill 25-1283 (2025), created a program for wild horses within the Colorado Department of Agriculture, along with an advisory committee for that program. I’m now a member of this new committee.

The first bill came with $1.5 million, much of which was granted to Colorado’s boots-on-the-ground advocacy groups for range-improvement projects and fertility-control support. The second bill comes with no funding. Earlier this year, the Colorado Legislature approved a new license plate design, to join the 270 (!) current designs, to funnel funding to the state’s new wild horse program for further on-range fertility-control support as well as off-range (post-roundup) support of Colorado mustangs and adopters.

CDA has just released a survey with several license plate designs, and you, the public, are encouraged to vote for your favorite. As stated, if you participate in the survey, think about this: “Which design will help sell the most plates” … to offer the most financial support. Colorado’s campaign for wolf-related license plates – “Born to be Wild” – apparently generated around $1 million in its first year.

If you’re so inclined, please follow this link to get to the survey to vote for plates and describe what you like and don’t about each plate. Keep in mind that visibility and identifying *wild* horses as the subject are the main goals in order to encourage people to buy these plates for their vehicles to help support Colorado’s wild horses.

And if you’re a vehicle-driving Coloradan, the plates likely will be available next year.

Thank you!





9/11

11 09 2026

Never forget.

We are better united.





Bats, baby!

5 09 2026

Surveying bats by sound isn’t what most people would think of as exciting.

You hike out, put up a pole, do some techy stuff, lock the box and hide the wires from mouthy varmints and curious critters, and that’s it. You don’t actually SEE the bats (nocturnal/crepuscular as they are).

…

Ha! Those are the mechanics of it, but what BLM biologists and other biologists and scientists can learn from that type of little jaunt is SOOOOO cool!!

After BLM wildlife biologist Bridget Frederick returns for the pole and things, she’ll take the recording box back to the office and run it through the computer to find out what species of bats are fluttering around the night sky in that area of Spring Creek Basin (location mum to protect the ongoing coolness of future surveys). BLM folks have been monitoring this site since 2020, and altogether, Bridget (and other wildlife biologists?) monitors 21 sites across all of the half a million BLM acres in Southwest Colorado managed by Tres Rios Field Office. (And if you’re a BLM wildlife biologist who invited a recovering journalist along for the adventure (OK, OK, I may totally have invited myself along), you patiently (!) answer lots and lots of questions!)

She uses a program called “sonobat” to decipher the echolocation squeaks of the individual bats and identify the species of bats picked up by the recordings (like listening for and identifying the songs and calls and trills of birds), and it’s all part of the North American Bat Monitoring Program.

And you thought Spring Creek Basin was all about mustangs. 🙂

Hopefully I’ve done some work to dispel that notion, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never written about bats before! To know that we’re (Spring Creek Basin and Tres Rios) contributing to the overall knowledge of bats is just the sort of thing to make me giddy. Bridget said they’re basically surveying the overall population of bats in the area, including fluctuations in those populations because overall, bat numbers are declining, just like bees and songbirds. Part of that might be diminishing habitat, insecticides, challenges to migration corridors (just like with big mammal species like deer, elk and pronghorns) and a particular challenge: white-nose syndrome. That’s a deadly fungal disease affecting hibernating bats in North America, and NABat is tracking its devastating impacts across the continent. While BLM’ers and others haven’t found it particularly in our area, it has been found elsewhere in Colorado and in neighboring Utah.

As if The Colorado Sun knew I was just about to post about bats, it ran this article yesterday: “Colorado’s bats live in surprising places. Biologists, and volunteer observers, are trying to find them; From abandoned mines to high mountain slopes, biologists and volunteers with Colorado Bat Watch are searching for bats to better understand their populations as white-nose syndrome spreads.” Check it out; maybe it will inspire you to join a “bat watch” group in your area.

Bridget sent this about the multitude of different species they’ve heard in the last six years in that part of Spring Creek Basin:

Here is a list of bats that we have recorded at the site in Spring Creek Basin. We started this site in 2020:

Myotis californicus (MYCA | California bat)
Parastrellus hesperus (PAHE | Canyon bat)
Tadarida brasiliensis (TABR | Brazilian free-tailed bat)
Eptesicus fuscus (EPFU | Big brown bat)
Myotis ciliolabrum (MYCI | Western small-footed bat)
Idionycteris phyllotis (IDPH | Allen’s big-eared bat)
Lasionycteris noctivagans (LANO | Silver-haired bat)
Myotis yumanensis (MYYU | Yuma bat )
Myotis evotis (MYEV | Western long-eared bat)
Myotis thysanodes (MYTH | Fringed bat)

Can you even believe all those different species of bats? As anyone who has visited and been subjected to the dreaded gnats and biting flies can attest, we (should) love bats!

Before we go any further, I won’t hear a negative thing about bats because bats are bazinga-cool! (What’s a Batman reference?) Honestly, humans should be doing as much for bats as for butterflies and bees and cuddlier things (ha!). Other than the moon, I’m not real great at photographing things in the dark, but wow, I’d love to catch sight – and a photo – of any kind of bat. If I was confident it wouldn’t be messed with, I’d love to put a trail cam up at the water-catchment trough not too far away. Wouldn’t it be cool to see what critters use it other than the mustangs?

More from Bridget:

“Yes, that is the total list of bats that we have confirmed over the years at that site. It does vary a bit year by year what bats are detected. … We leave the detector up at least 4 nights, but sometimes longer because of weather or road conditions. We have 2 to 3 detectors out at the same time. This is the only site in Spring Creek Basin that we sample. We have 21 sites that we sample across TRFO …”

Now let’s join Bridget for our little excursion!

Off we go! The siting of the bat pole in the location where she places it pre-dates the water catchment, which was built by Mike Jensen, Garth Nelson, Daniel Chavez, Jim Siscoe and me in 2021. Just like we saw with the little bird friend drinking with the mustangs there, I hope it has encouraged use by bats! As Bridget said, the bats are likely to be drawn to the water just as much as the insects, their prey.

Nope, not a trail camera but a bat listener! I think it will catch the sounds of anything, and she can set it to listen at particular times. For the bats, which are the particular goal at this site, it’s set to record between sunset and sunrise. (I mean, how cool to listen to the quiet sounds of the night in what has to be one of the quietest places anywhere!)

I got to hold the bat pole (!) while Bridget threaded the microphone and cord through the bit on the top (that’s what collects the sounds) and then the other little part that will plug into the listening box.

And it’s up! It extends between those black parts, much like the legs of a (really tall!) monopod.

Bridget sets the pole so the microphone – the part at the very top – is that what you call it? it’s not delivering sound but gathering it in! – is facing the big open area. Here, she’s testing to make sure it’s picking up sound.

Did you wonder about the PVC pieces Bridget was carrying in the first pic? She runs the cord from the microphone down along the bat pole and then through the PVC piece (and possibly a second one, depending on distance to where she stashes the listening box) to deter curious critters and mouthy varmints! If you don’t already know, mustangs – and chipmunks and ravens and a variety of other wildlife – can be VERY curious critters. 🙂

Then she coils up the excess wire between the PVC and the listening box in the (in this case) handy greasewood before …

… camouflaging it to try to keep passing critters from noticing and investigating (because they will if they do).

One last check that it synced with her phone, and the bat pole was ready for the business of listening for bats (well, as soon as the sun set)!

Bridget has retrieved the pole by now (she sets them out for about four days on average), and she’ll be listening for the bat squeaks to tell her what kinds of bats have been fluttering around Spring Creek Basin’s night sky! I’ll try to follow up with her to learn what kinds of bats the pole’s microphone and box picked up and recorded this time.

I’m telling ya’ll: Any/all kinds of “-ology” you want to study can be found in Spring Creek Basin (and, really, all of America’s public lands, of course). BLM scientists like Bridget are out there adding to the knowledge base we have of even the smallest critters like bats, and I find that so incredibly fascinating!

If you have any questions for Bridget, ask them in the comments, and I’ll get them to her (and then get the answers back to you). I’ve learned so much from her … from all the BLM folks I’ve been lucky enough to work with here in Southwest Colorado!

(Perk: Yes, we DID see mustangs on our way to place and leave the bat pole! And I’m pretty sure she and her partner for the retrieval saw more when they picked it up. 🙂 )





Makin’ it work

7 08 2026

Mid-week in Spring Creek Basin, early morning to beat the 100-degree afternoon temps, a couple of *my* BLM guys gathered with me for some fixin’s. Not food; water-related.

BLM seasonal range tech Jim Siscoe came out to fix/replace the broken piece in the wildcat valley water catchment trough! This means that I can leave the valve on for the water to fill the trough automatically as the horses drink it down without turning the valve on to fill the trough and off so it doesn’t drain all our precious water from the catchment tanks. If you were with us in 2021, you’ll recognize Jim as part of the dream team who built the first of two new water catchments in Spring Creek Basin (along with Mike Jensen, Garth Nelson and Daniel Chavez).

Jim had asked that the trough be dry for the work, as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to insert the new piece if the pipe was covered by water.

Obviously, the trough was still about half to three-quarters full! He did say the cool water felt great, and it didn’t hamper his fixit skills at all. 🙂

And really, I don’t think I can be blamed because I’d last filled the trough three days earlier, thinking that would be plenty of time for the horses to drink down the water. (Actually, I was a little worried about them not having water there when they’d gotten used to finding water there. … I needn’t have worried.)

What it means – because when I’ve been out there filling it with two, three, four bands visible nearby-ish – is that the horses have plenty of other water sources (many of which I’ve seen and know about), which, as you might imagine in these scary drought times, gives me a huge sense of relief. And Jim, awesome as he is, went with the flow (get it) and had the new piece inserted and the whole thing fixed in about five minutes flat. 🙂

That done, we went to the northwest valley to meet Anton Rambur (BLM rangeland management specialist). There followed discussion of what it will take to fix the pipe that connects the tanks, broken last fall when the basin got so MUCH rain that it flooded around the middle tank and literally popped it up out of the ground.

Jim points out where they’ll need to start digging to work their way up to that middle tank (as shown, it’s second from left) in order to get it out and get to the below-ground pipe.

See all the green discs at the front of each tank? Those top a vertical culvert that protects and allows access to the bottom of each tank. A pipe comes straight out from each tank and Ts at a pipe that runs horizontally across each each tank. At the far end, a pipe then runs down the hill to the trough, seen behind/beyond Anton and Jim.

Problem pipe. This is the tank that got popped up with the force of that flooding rain last fall. The pipes were no match for the force of that water, so they broke on each side of the T. The only thing that stopped the tank from being lifted right out of the ground was the roof overhead.

The fix: Rent a mini excavator again, use it to fix the road all the way back to the northwest valley, then dig out the pipe and tank. Replace the tank and fix/replace the pipe(s) and valve. We’re also going to put in a midway valve so I can turn it off if we have a problem again because right now, while we have a semi-fix, when I turn on the valves to the two end tanks, water runs down to the trough, but it also backs up and gurgles into that culvert Jim is pointing to. Last job for the mini ex: Build up the berm again at the back of the line of tanks and dig a trench to carry water around/beyond the tanks in the future when it, you know, floods again. Because in the desert, we have to prepare for both drought and the goodness of “too much” water (I mean, nobody ever considers any amount of water to be *TOO MUCH* water in the desert … but it can be destructive when it comes all at once).

Jim and Anton talk over the water cooler … err, water trough. 🙂 Beats an office any day (though it’s always nice to retreat to office AC when the heat is this bad!).

Jim is the resident “weed killer” at Tres Rios Field Office, and he does a great job. Here, he took advantage of being out in the basin to spray cockleburs, Russian thistle (tumbleweed) and Russian knapweed downhill of the catchment in the drainage that leads to the pond (left and dry).

Wider view that shows the catchment up to the left. The trough is barely visible behind that single juniper.

We were out early enough to beat most of the heat, make a good fix, run some water, talk about another fix, spray some weeds. No matter the conditions, we’re makin’ it work.





Happy birthday, Colorado

1 08 2026

Today marks Colorado’s official 150th birthday, “celebrated as the sesquicentennial of the Centennial State joining the Union in 1876.” (Interestingly, for this Aggie, also the year of the founding that October of Texas A&M University, known then as the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas. Yes, I know that has nothing to do with anything, but I *am* a Texas Aggie living in the Centennial State (and for much longer now than I lived in Texas).)

Sadly, today also marks the start of the roundup in Piceance-East Douglas Herd Management Area (needed but still incredibly sad that so many mustangs will be removed in the antiquated cycle of round-up-and-remove) and West Douglas Herd Area. More than 1,000 mustangs will be removed from these ranges, followed by nearly 250 more next month from Sand Wash Basin Herd Management Area. Please don’t make negative comments about this; it just needed to be noted. The advocates are intimately involved and working to ensure the safety and best treatment of those mustangs. Fertility-control programs hopefully will be stepped up, especially in Piceance-East Douglas, and I might have more information about that in the future.

In all the ways that Colorado’s statehood birthday is being celebrated, I haven’t seen anything about celebrating its mustangs, which, in my opinion, is a missed opportunity to uplift these remarkable animals and the giant roles they have played in this country as a whole, as well as the wilds of Colorado. So we’ll just have to do it ourselves. 🙂

I am thankful that we HAVE mustangs, still, in Colorado. And with hope and better management, they’ll be here another 150 years.





Mustangs in art

7 06 2026

You probably didn’t know this was the post you needed. Mustangs + art = fabulous.

The year 2007, the year of the first Spring Creek Basin roundup I attended, was a big year for me (more on this coming in mid-September). This post focuses on my friend and artist Karen Keene Day, whom I met that September, courtesy of Pati and David Temple. Karen and I forged a firm friendship then, and she has been out numerous/many/lots of times since then to see the mustangs. I started visiting Spring Creek Basin in 2002; Karen first visited in 2003. She visited the BLM/USFS office in Durango, and a woman there put her in touch with Pati. “I parked my car in the shade and called Pati … and she didn’t stop talking about the mustangs!”

A lot of us trace our Spring Creek Basin mustangs obsession back to Pati. Fondly so!

Karen has always been an artist … always been a horse lover, though she didn’t have her first horse until adulthood … and in 1999, after her first visit to Pryor Mountain Wild Horse Range (Wyoming and Montana), she focused her art, which had always included horses, including Andalusians in Spain, completely on wild horses.

Fast forward from those years to this past Friday night: The opening event was held for Karen’s June art show at Decker Community Room in Ridgway, Colorado. Her absolutely amazing art fills the walls with color and movement and spirit and sheer beauty. And they span her amazing wild-horse-art career from 1999 to 2026. If you find yourself in Colorado, on Colorado’s Western Slope, in the quirky western town of Ridgway, even if you’re just passing through, do your heart and art-appreciating self a favor and stop in to view Karen’s art. The following photos can’t do justice to just how fantastic the entire exhibit looks.

Writer Kathryn Wilder pauses to look at samples of Karen’s art upon arrival at Decker Community Room on Ridgway’s Clinton Street (a short, buzzing few blocks of galleries and restaurants just off the main drag).

Karen (center, black shirt) and her husband, Floyd (seated at right), greeted visitors. We arrived right at the beginning of the opening, and the venue quickly became packed with appreciative art viewers!

Floyd, a retired engineer, is an artist in his own right and also has had showings of his art in Ridgway. His preferred subjects are the cows, calves and bulls that call the ranch country at the edge of the San Juan Mountains home.

Karen’s art comes in many sizes and a variety of semi-similar abstract styles, showing her evolution as an artist. I have loved Karen’s art for nearly 20 years, since I first set eyes on it! I challenge you to be UNmoved by the spirit and movement and beauty illustrated by her vision of wild horses and the wild places they call home. Karen’s quote at upper left: “Peace and unintentional creativity comes to me when I paint.”

You thought mustangs came from drab, dry, desert-brown ranges, didn’t you? The colors she sees in the natural world absolutely inspires me.

You see the faces of horses, don’t you? More proof of Karen’s unique creativity: These are pans she has used below her paintings to catch drips and drops of paint as she boldly creates her art … and then she made art of those very pans! At right are some of her own brushes and drop cloths that she has used while creating her art.

Absolutely gorgeous.

Karen’s exhibit also includes images of her painting and visiting various ranges and wild horse sanctuaries. I love the sketch below the pictures … those are Spring Creek Basin mustangs.

More sketches and journal entries from her visits to mustangs. In addition to Spring Creek Basin, she has visited Pryor Mountain, Little Book Cliffs (near Grand Junction, Colorado), Sand Wash Basin (near Craig, Colorado) and Piceance-East Douglas (near Meeker, Colorado), as well as various East Coast wild horse herds!

You might have noticed that the large black-and-white painting at left in the image above features in a few of the pix. I think that wasn’t necessarily conscious, but that’s Hope, and she is most gratefully mine, gifted to me by Karen many years ago. Karen wanted to include Hope in her art show, and I was thrilled to deliver her to Ridgway, though my wall looks awfully bare without her (I’ll get her back at the end of June). 🙂 Karen and Floyd both told me that many visitors had already told them she was one of their favorites of her paintings in the show.

At right is Chrome. Karen’s words above him read: “A man who moves away from nature loses his heart.”

Kat Wilder wrote “Desert Chrome: Water, a Woman, and Wild Horses in the West” (scroll down a bit), published in 2021. Yes, *that* Chrome.

My most beloved Grey (also known as Traveler), memorialized and honored in Karen’s vivid vision and colors. I love that his image at left is in “royal” purple; Grey was short for Sir Grey, and by that, I mean(t) king of mustangs. That one was painted in 2013. At right, titled “Return to Disappointment Valley,” 2008: We’re certain that’s Grey after his return to Spring Creek Basin after he was erroneously removed from the basin during the 2007 roundup … and returned a month later, the day I started my documentation of Spring Creek Basin’s mustangs.

Love the detail of his name stenciled down the side of the canvas. And Kat pointed out the word “SOUL” at lower center on the front of Grey.

In Karen’s writing at right: “Animals are God’s gift to people to teach us how to treat others.”

Left to right: Fellow Ridgway resident (for 30-plus years), artist and mustang advocate and adopter (including of Spring Creek Basin mustangs) Alice Billings, Kat (also a mustang advocate and adopter) and yours truly (they made me stand on the downhill side of the ramp :)).

Kat and I with Karen – mustang chix all.

Karen’s art show runs through June 26. All the art comes down June 27. Visit while you can. You will NOT be disappointed (!). 🙂

Karen’s website: https://www.karenkeeneday.com/

Instagram: @karenkeenedayart

Facebook: Look for “Karen Keene Day”





Thanks … and request

27 05 2026

Big day in Spring Creek Basin yesterday, and I want to give a big shout-out to everyone who had a hand in the rescue of a young visitor from the Midwest.

The visitor had a Garmin In-Reach communication device and with that, was able to reach her mother, who contacted Tres Rios Field Office, who got the message to one of my awesome BLM folks, Ryan Schroeder, who was able to reach me. She also reached out to the fine folks at Colorado 4×4 Rescue and Recovery, who have assisted us previously with another stuck vehicle. San Miguel Sheriff’s Office personnel and BLM law-enforcement rangers also were notified and aware of the situation.

It’s worth noting that cell service in the basin, no matter what service you have (and if you don’t have AT&T, you’re pretty well toast), is spotty, and there’s nothing in the area where she got stuck.

Huge, huge thanks to neighbor Tyrell, who jumped into action with his daughter, Makena, and their big tractor to motor deep into Spring Creek Basin on rough roads where lesser vehicles might fear to roll (for good reason, really :)) to pull out the visitor’s vehicle and get her safely on the return path out of the basin.

Another note, and this is not a criticism of the visitor herself, who had never been to Spring Creek Basin: Please be aware of and HEED the “no motor vehicles” signs. Not only are those in place to protect the very fragile and incredibly drought-stressed soil and vegetation the mustangs depend on to survive, they’re placed where they are to protect humans as well. She missed the sign while following heavy tire tracks from other visitors – DIRECTLY PAST A SIGN. Those folks are going around an erosion-caused washout across the road, and while I understand the desire to explore farther, that illegal bypass route not only has destroyed the vegetation in that area, it led directly to someone getting her vehicle stuck miles and miles from help. If she hadn’t had her communication device, she would have had a LONG walk out to the main road, and as few people pass through Disappointment Valley on any given day, and she didn’t have cell service, help might have been a long time coming. I was planning a visit to the basin yesterday evening, but her vehicle wasn’t visible from the road, and *I* don’t pass that initial washout and sign, which I helped our BLM guys place last fall! I’d never have found her if I wasn’t actively looking for her.

That is NOT ground to be driven over! At least one person apparently heeded the sign and turned around. The water catchment is directly behind me from this image, and someone had literally driven directly over branches that I’ve dragged down the hill, along with old, dead tree trunks, and placed all along the other side of the road (I’m actually standing on the road, and the washout is directly to the right) to try to keep people from driving on THAT fragile soil and vegetation just because they’re too lazy to get out of the buggy or truck to walk down and look at the catchment system closer.

The sign and blockade had mostly worked. … Those tracks from before (see the above link to last November’s sign-posting) had semi-healed … until this recent spate of destruction. We shouldn’t have to pepper the basin with signs asking people to respect the land and wildlife. (And I haven’t even posted about all the wanton, deliberate destruction I’ve seen in other places this year, last year, every year, from multiple “poor apple” visitors. It makes me mad and sad in equal measure every time I see it.)

So two parts to this post:

BIG THANKS to all the people who came together to get this visitor and her vehicle safely out of Spring Creek Basin! You are all so very appreciated!

And please, *please*, consider the mustangs and other wildlife when you visit Spring Creek Basin. Your momentary “fun” has very real and lasting negative impacts. Please visit with respect.

We want you to enjoy the scenery and mustangs of Spring Creek Basin, and we want you to make it home … from our home.