The sight to see

22 02 2024

In the space between napping and rousing and grazing, Seneca gives me her sweet look as if to ask if I also see the fabulous scenery. Yes, indeed, dear girl. I see you.





Looking for Hollywood

21 02 2024

The handsome fellow has been elusive for the last couple of months, and I hadn’t seen him either alone or with the other (mostly young) bachelors.

Finally a friend alerted me that she was “85 percent sure” she’d seen him from Disappointment Road on the southern side of Spring Creek Basin. … I looked for him in that area on a couple of drives but didn’t spot him (or any other horses). From interior, with another band, when they turned as one to look at *something*, I did, too, and there he was, glowing orangey-dun on a drab taupe hillside. 🙂 The decision to hike out to him was MUCH faster than the actual hike.

He’s still pretty lean, bordering on downright thin, but he’s OK. His hip gouge has healed, and his right eye is open but squinty.

He couldn’t have made it more plain that he didn’t want to be bothered by an overly-happy-to-see-him human, so I didn’t visit with him long. I really was very happy to see him.





Wanted: Snow

19 02 2024

Mountain areas – Utah’s La Sals above – have lovely snow, but we don’t. And there’s a lot of brown expanse between here and there.

It’s an easy winter for the wild ones (so far?!), but it’s gonna be a tough summer (unless something changes PDQ).





That one moment

15 02 2024

When photographing Corazon, one has to be ready for the one moment when he looks up from grazing, ears pricked with interest and eye(s) glowing – the one moment in many long moments of otherwise peaceful, quiet wandering – to hit the shutter and capture his handsome self.





Wind whipped

6 02 2024

While I was walking away from the band, Shadow and three of her bandmates, who were slightly separate from the main group, kicked up their heels and trotted back to reunite with their pals.

I was glad I hadn’t put my camera away in my backpack.





Midground

31 01 2024

See those white dots out yonder, past Shane? And a couple of darker dots, too? No, not the trees. About the level of Shane’s ears. Earlier, that band had been up on top of the north side of Spring Creek canyon!

It’s not the first time I’ve seen horses up there, but it’s the first time I was in position to hustle down to the canyon to hike up to the top of the canyon. Unfortunately, by the time I’d hustled up, they’d moseyed down. The view wasn’t nearly as grand from the bowl as from the top of the rimrock-bound canyon.

It was nice to catch sight of them again, while hanging out with another band on a most-gorgeous, calm, peaceful, just lovely-as-all-get-out evening in Spring Creek Basin.

We have some more snow showing up in our forecast the next day or so. It’d be REALLY great to actually get it.





Black and white and red

27 01 2024

Corazon with his mare … another pretty redhead in Spring Creek Basin. The mountains would ordinarily be visible from this perspective, but they were cloaked in snow clouds (and hopefully good, soaking snow). …

We finally got some drips and dribbles early Friday morning, which was a huge relief (bigger than the amount of water in the rain gauge). … And yes, it was rain, not snow, though the higher elevations of Disappointment Valley and surrounding ridges got some snow. Bring it on!





Brrrr

13 01 2024

Something about this image – the shade? – makes this scene look *cold* to me. Does it convey that feeling to you?

It WAS cold, and the wind didn’t help (unless you mean helping it seem even colder than the air temp).

This was late in the afternoon, and I’d been out for a couple of hours. Not much later, and my camera (battery) was struggling to work because it was so cold, even mostly sheltered in my pack. My old Canon is a workhorse, but cold is cold!





Snowy saunter

11 01 2024

While the band napped, Skywalker foraged in the snow, lookin’ all handsome-like as he moseyed. 🙂





Up the ridge we go

2 01 2024

Couple of things:

Yes, it really is (still) that dry in Spring Creek Basin and most of the rest of southwestern Colorado. Pooh on the U.S. Drought Monitor for thinking (erroneously in my oh-so-very-humble opinion) that we’re only “moderately dry.”

And: proof that mustangs and mountain goats have a common ancestor (!). 🙂

That’s Sundance (and one of his mares) on a finger of a ridge at the very southeastern end of what we call Knife Edge (which actually is fairly broad on top). This pic, taken with my phone as I hiked out to a series of hills to get up to the ridge that snaked down to where his band was, isn’t even wide enough to show how far to the right I had to go to get to that access area – where I could bypass the rimrocks. The other side of this ridge features a little cove, where a couple of the horses were grazing as I drove up the road to the point where I started hiking, but it’s all rimrock-locked. In other words, the only way TO that point is back up the way they got TO it in the first place.

OK, a third thing: You know I’m going to show you all some scenery from up on that ridge, don’t you? 🙂 (Here’s a crazy thing: As much hiking as I’ve done in Spring Creek Basin during the last 21 (starting to inch up on 22?!) years, I’ve never been up on that particular ridge or on the very top of Knife Edge. … The horses are very good guides at getting me to new places. :))

Upon leaving my buggy to start my hike (the big ridge and Sundance’s band are directly to my left), this was the first view that made me reach for my phone (aka easy-to-access camera). I’m just south of an area of Spring Creek Basin that I call the east pocket. Knife Edge is basically to about my 11 o’clock, and the sandy-colored ridges at the right of the image are what I call Valentine Mesa. The mountains are a stone’s throw away (!) in Utah; from the ridge I was later on with the horses, they’re mostly blocked by the bulk of Knife Edge.

I’m up on the ridge that leads to the horses’ location farther down at the fingertip end of it. That big rise of grey Mancos shale and orangier (!) sandstone is Knife Edge. The southern peaks of the mountains are just visible way, way out against the turquoise sky. Spring Creek canyon is visible at far left. That’s the basin’s western boundary; the farthest treed ridges are the southern/southwestern boundary of Disappointment Valley above the Dolores River and its canyons.

Looking left-ish from the above pic, that’s Spring Creek cutting through Spring Creek Basin in the middle ground. What I call the “weeping wall” is down there, and it provides a pretty constant source of trickling water for the mustangs. At far upper right is the eastern end of Filly Peak in the basin’s western region, and straight out is Flat Top. Round Top is barely visible at left. In about the middle ground – shadowed on its northeastish length – is the ridge I call rollercoaster (though it doesn’t look very rollercoastery from this perspective). … And see the glimmer just above/beyond it? That’s the rollercoaster ridge pond, still decently full of water (semi-frozen, depending on conditions). That’s the pond from the “Reflections” post recently. … And what do McKenna Peak and Temple Butte look like from THIS perspective?

I’m so glad you wondered! 🙂 From a little right of left: Temple Butte, McKenna Peak, what I call submarine ridge (you can see the two “arm” ridges of the actual feature from here) and Brumley Point, on Spring Creek Basin’s southeastern boundary. The Glade is in the far distance, touching the sky. A little closer – middle ground – is Spring Creek and part of the basin’s loop road (rough, and I would not recommend driving a vehicle on this section). The ridge down to the horses starts to the left and runs through the nearer middle of the pic. Sundance was actually partially visible (his back), but I don’t think he shows up very well in this pic.

This pic (left) and the next (right) were taken from the same vantage point, but when I tried to stitch them together into a bit of a panorama in Photoshop, it didn’t work out so well. So, using the ridge in front of me as your guide, you’ll have to use your imagination a bit as you scroll up and down to look left and right (!).

If you can find the ribbon of road, out there in sort of the middle, heading uphill (to the left from this perspective), is where I was when I looked up and horses appeared, much to my wondering eyes! (Magic isn’t just the domain of Santa, folks.) If I’d been going the other way around the loop, downhill, which is my usual direction and preference given some fairly challenging road issues (!), I don’t think I’d have seen them because I’d have had to look back over my shoulder and up. I try to look in that area because I’ve seen Sundance’s band in that relative vicinity before, but see the little “cove” down to the right in the second pic (the one right above)? That’s where a couple of the horses were when I first spotted them from below, and if I’d been in a different place, I wouldn’t – couldn’t – have seen them there from the road.

Another lesson: Perspective often is everything. 🙂

Pretty dry out there. The forecast is starting to show us some glimmers of hope for coming snow. We got kind of skunked over Christmas, but fingers and hooves are crossed that our winter will start picking up in this newest part of the new year.