On the first

1 01 2025

(Remember what I said about not enough days? Not enough hours, too/either, and too many other things to do that don’t involve computers and the insides of walls. Apologies for the delay to the day – and the year (if only, eh?)!)

How about some inter-species getting-alongness to kick off the first day of the new year?

Dundee and the band were making their way westward along the base of a little hill/ridge when they encountered the pronghorns. The pronghorns (one of them, at least) gave a couple of little “barks” at one point (their warning sound), and I think that was because at least one of them finally realized there was something “not like the others” wandering along in the horses’ wake.

The main road into the basin is just down to the right, and the pronghorns eventually crossed it and continued to watch the horses, who stopped to graze where the ground leveled out a bit above the road.

It is anthropomorphic in the extreme to say that pronghorns LIKE to race and be raced (it’s that speed thing). … But if you’ve ever driven in pronghorn country, you know what I’m sayin’. And so, when they realized (!) that the horses had no intention whatever of racing anywhere, the pronghorns eventually moseyed (as much as pronghorns can be said to mosey) on to the high ground to the north, toward Spring Creek canyon, and out of sight.

No fuss, no muss, no warfare.

I won’t say there was a lot of conversation, either (aside from the brief warning – “hey, there’s a two-legged!”), but I’m sure no offense was either given or taken. Let’s all be so kind this year.

Happy, happy. 🙂

And a couple of bonus shots, for having to wait so long for today’s post:

From last night, driving through Norwood, Colorado:

Pretty spectacular for a little town! (But also, there was a lot of kabooming, which can’t have been peaceful for the four-leggeds.)

And this morning, first sunrise of 2025:

Pretty in pink. Alas, we have zero moisture in the immediate forecast.





The waiting

15 12 2024

Snow incoming, but it never quite reached us – Buckeye’s band.





Buff and blendy

12 12 2024

Recently, shortly after I entered Spring Creek Basin, I saw a small group of mule deer in the very same vicinity as a large group of pronghorns. Because many of the pronghorns were napping in the lovely sunshine, I passed them, then walked back down a short distance to photograph them, hoping that was enough to not rouse them.

The deer were on their own mission and went over the edge of the hill and out of sight before I could get them all in the same frame, but the pronghorns were slow to worry (usually, they’re super wary).

Eventually they got up and started to follow the direction of the deer. I was happy to see how many fawns there appeared to be. Even for the fastest land mammals in North America, survival of the youngest is not assured. (They are not hunted in this part of Colorado; there simply aren’t enough of them. I called this a “big group,” but there were only about 15. I think there may be no more than around 25, maybe 30 (??), in the whole valley.)

Their famous speed wasn’t on display as they ambled (if a pronghorn can ever be said to amble!) off the hill following the deer. It was cool to see them, and the deer, enjoying a lovely, sunshiney day in the basin, as I was!





Can’t-be-contained bonus

27 11 2024

When I was a young Coloradan, newly moved to Durango from Texas, my then-co-workers at The Durango Herald can attest to the fact that the first time snow fell that winter, I went a little bonkers with excitement.

Not much has changed, 22-plus years later. 🙂

We had another great (rain to) snowfall overnight, and it was a wonderland of white this morning – and muddymuddymuddy underneath. The snow is nearly all melted – at least down-valley – now, but rather than wait for tomorrow, here’s a peek at the Thanksgiving-Eve bounty in Spring Creek Basin:

Shortly after sunrise, Chrome’s Point, looking south-southeastish. Flat Top and Round Top are at left in the distance, and Filly Peak is at right.

Looking back north-northwestish, the difference in light is dramatic (this was maybe only 10-15 minutes after the first pic?) as the clouds linger at the higher elevations south and east of Spring Creek Basin and have started clearing to the west and north (though the mountains were engulfed in clouds the whole time I was out).

Holy heavenly light. If I’d been able to see that spotlight of light, with my own eyeballs, at the time, I would have brought out the big gun (these are all from my phone – handy little pocket cam that it is). Wow. Knife Edge is ahead to the left; Brumley Point is visible at far right. Temple Butte and McKenna Peak are still completely within the clouds.

Round Top – aka Saucer (as in flying) Hill – with snow still pouring from the moisture-laden clouds to the southern ridges of Disappointment Valley and beyond to the Glade.

I was just below the base of Knife Edge with mustangs when Temple Butte and McKenna Peak were starting to emerge from the still-billowing clouds. Dramatic much?!?

Heading back to my buggy and the road, looking upstream at the Spring Creek arroyo toward its source at McKenna Peak … Temple Butte behind it … submarine ridge to the right … Brumley Point straight ahead (it sits right on the basin’s southeast boundary) … Round Top at far right. Water WAS trickling through the bed of the arroyo in some places (like where I crossed).

From the ridge at the main/original water catchment (oh, how I hope this snow provided lots and lots of water for our catchments!), looking eastish across the basin. I mean … who DOESN’T get giddy at the sight of snow?! 🙂 Knife Edge is the ridge at far left with the top rim just barely free of snow. See the trees at the base of the ridge at almost farthest left? That’s where the ponies are (the ones I visited, anyway).

This one’s a little out of order, but it sums it all up. 🙂 I love mustangs; I love snow; I love Spring Creek Basin and its mustangs in the snow!

That’s our water. Our moisture. Our lifeblood for growing things.

So, so, so, SOOOOO grateful this Thanksgiving Eve. Happy gratitude to all you wonderful readers and your families on this, my very favorite holiday. Hope you all get to spend it with those you love, in places you love. 🙂





Peace in the valley – again

25 11 2024

Fourth rifle season ended a little past sunset last night – thank goodness. Every year, the human pressure increases. Where once it was horrible only during third season, now all the seasons have their pressures … from the first of September through late November. It’s exhausting for the animals (of which I’m only one two-legged critter).





Morning delight

16 11 2024

Third rifle season finally is over in Colorado.

I think it’s not an understatement or anthropomorphism to say that I and the animals (of all species) are in a state of relief. Interestingly, I think the hordes were fewer this year, and while I think most were well-behaved (and I met and talked to a few very nice individual hunters – including a very friendly young man from Oregon), there was at least one instance (relayed to me by a hunter who witnessed it from quite a distance and up a ridge away) of shooting from the road (totally illegal), possibly after the 30-minutes-after-sunset rule, onto private property (which may or may not have been properly noted as such on their OnX map apps).

I witnessed at least two hunters leaving their camp well past 30 minutes after sunset to go … somewhere? And when starting to head out of the basin one night after sunset, from deep-east in the basin, was passed by two hunters going even DEEPER into the basin. Flouting the rules?! Draw your own conclusion.

The horses have been nervous to the rifle shots and accompanying echoes, which caused everything from startling in place to taking off running en masse.

Relief? Huge.

There’s still fourth season, which starts Wednesday and runs through Sunday (blessedly short), but we rarely get hunters during that season – and not the camping-here, driving-up-and-down-the-road-from-5:14 a.m.-to-well-after-dark (I lose track) hunters that third season is (in)famous for hosting.

Early Friday morning, I saw subtle color in the scudding clouds in the southeastern sky and decided to see what was happening (let alone keep an eye out for any nefariousness). … That subtle color had faded to grey by the time I got out on the road. … But then … starting with just a couple of bands of flame above the horizon … THE LIGHT EXPLODED.

And behind me to the west:

There was quite a lot of distortion as the moon sank – quite unlike the sharp views when it rises? – but take my word for the marvelousity (kinda like gorgeousity – all phenomenal!).

My big camera and long lens simply can’t take it all in, so I switched to my phone. In the foreground is Disappointment Road heading southeast. Visible in the distance are Temple Butte and Brumley Point.

Presented in the order in which they were taken. I know they all look similar … but the sky went from spectacular to SPECTACULAR, and show me a photographer who can *stop* taking pix of a such a scene (you can’t, and we certainly can’t).

Bear with me (because you know there’s more).

Continuing in order … looking a bit more to the east (left). I laid down in the middle of the road to take this one, something I’d never have done at the height of the hunting season.

Meanwhile, what was happening behind me, where the moon had already set?

More gorgeousity! Looking northwest to Utah’s La Sal Mountains.

Back to the southeast … starting to see a different color hue as the Earth continued its rotation and the sun edged closer to its morning debut.

Clouds and light and land to the southwest, where the moon set before the colors took off (darnit!).

One more of our beloved horizon mountains.

Apologies to sailors for swapping words to the usual rhyme. 🙂 (Not really.) It WAS very windy, which I imagine wouldn’t be so fun if you had to row against it or sail with it propelling you away from your destination. But wow. I hope many, many photography-minded and beauty-loving people stopped what they were doing and admired the sunrise yesterday.





Snow before the *snow*

8 11 2024

This was before the big snow, but the light was so gorgeous, and I managed to not take many pix of the snow while it was snowing (very low/short distance visibility), so visualize that ALL covered in snow (to the tune of 4-plus inches, give or take), and that’s what it looked like (minus the clouds socking in the valley). 🙂

The above pic is from Disappointment Road looking eastish; readers will recognize the Temple Butte promontory and the snow-covered pyramid that is McKenna Peak. The rain-dark mid-ground is Spring Creek Basin.

From much farther up-valley, looking slightly eastish of northish (!), from left to right: Brumley Point, McKenna Peak and Temple Butte across the very southern part of Spring Creek Basin.

And a closer view of Temple Butte and the buttes beyond/eastish of it (those farther promontories aren’t visible from Spring Creek Basin proper, though the near foreground is part of Spring Creek Basin Herd Management Area).

It’s hard to believe because our snow usually melts by at least midday, if not mid-morning, but there’s still snow on the ground today, two days after the snowfall. And of course, muddy, muddy goodness underneath. That mud does make it hard to get around (and all the hunter traffic – already – depresses and demotivates me; third rifle season (aka crazy-town season) starts Saturday), but hopefully I’ll get out and about and get some new pony pix soon. If not with snow, I’ll still have plenty to share from pre-snow days (and will make that clear in the text of each post).





Spooooookeeeeee

31 10 2024

Red sky at night, sailors’ delight.

Red in the morning, sailors take warning.

The following pix are from sunset the night of Oct. 28 (I couldn’t think of anything spookier for today’s post!).

Morning the 29th was grey and dark – and raining from the heavens! – and I was fully delighted by both the light show … and then with all of the RAIN (0.86 inch total)!

Am I right, or am I right?! The above is nearly straight out of my camera – I sized it and applied some sharpening. That’s looking west.

This is the spookiest part of the post (!). Looking east toward/across/beyond Spring Creek Basin. Again, the only thing I did was size it and apply some sharpening.

And a bit closer as the color was absolutely exploding.

The above are from my camera; the below – for wider views – from my phone (again, nothing but sizing and sharpening):

And:

I don’t know about sailors (any folks on actual waves are half a continent away), but *I* was the very best kind of astounded!

And very grateful for the rain overnight and the next morning. 🙂





Big muddy grateful

21 10 2024

La Sals beyond Disappointment Valley/Creek cottonwoods.

We had rain in the valley – to the tune of almost 0.80 inch total (way, way more than we got in all of September). To say I’m “grateful” is a vast, vast understatement. 🙂

Now THAT looks like autumn. 🙂

By the time I was out with Mariah and her band on Saturday, the snow was noticeably melting, and clouds were lowering over the peaks. Sunday had more rain and super sogginess, and if I could have seen the mountains for the heavy clouds, I bet they’d have shown pristine white caps again.

Yes, major-super gratitude. 🙂





The height of Disappointment

7 10 2024

A recent color (aspen) drive brought me back to Disappointment Valley from the top.

There’s not a lot of color at the top – pictured is Gambel oak – but the views are extraordinary.

Lots (relatively) of ponderosa pines.

That butte is not Temple Butte, by the way. Temple Butte is quite a bit farther down-valley.

Sunset layers. Its own style of autumn color.