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





Well above

9 09 2026

Tenaz (and the other bands) were well up on the north side of Spring Creek canyon – near the highest point that looks west out over lower Disappointment Valley from above the rimrocks that form Spring Creek Basin’s dramatic western boundary – when I hiked up to them the other evening.

Below Tenaz is the eastern end of the canyon and Spring Creek (there’s actually water down there from where water running underground hits bedrock and is forced up in a decent-distance running seep). Behind Tenaz is the north-facing south rim of the canyon (the main western entrance to Spring Creek Basin is on south a short distance). To my right – ahead of him – the top of the canyon slopes upward to where it abruptly ends at the sheer vertical rim of rock that forms the basin’s natural western boundary. In some places, it’s natural, and in others, there are fences to keep the mustangs within the basin’s borders.

We came up (they were already there when I entered the basin and saw them) from an “easier” slope that comes up directly from the Spring Creek arroyo to the leftish/behind Tenaz.





Raise the curtain (let it rain)

25 08 2026

Temple on a dramatic evening a couple of nights ago. A curtain of rain was passing to the northwest over or in front of (our Colorado side of) Utah’s La Sal Mountains.

Shafts of sunlight were finding the mountains as the rain edged past to the north.

Whatever land was getting that glorious rainfall under the path of the curtain is fortunate, indeed. For our part of Disappointment Valley, after a crazy “front” of wind, rain finally came briefly after dark. Still not much, but it was wonderful while it lasted.

I even managed to capture a tiny bolt of lightning in the clouds. The ponies were not at all concerned, but shortly after, I hit the road!





All well in his world

21 08 2026

Corazon’s attention was briefly caught by whinnies from his band members over the edge of the hill while they grazed near Spring Creek canyon.

That was the moment I caught him in the late light. Best kind of capture. 🙂





Red and blue and canyon

17 08 2026

Copper-red Gaia on a blue-rain day. The last few days have been clear-blue-sky days again, and the temps are creeping up again. Not as hot as previously, so there’s relief in that.

Once again, the forecast shows rain chances in a *week*. … It’s been more disappointing (!) than accurate, but we always have hope!





Flip

13 08 2026

Handsome mustang Flash in the foreground, rain comin’ in the background.

That rain reached us … but not as much reached the ground as we need to really soak the ground.





Passing by

3 08 2026

Tenaz at sunset above Spring Creek canyon.

Wild boy in a wild land.





Into the dream

31 07 2026

Temple. Gorgeous as a painting. The reality is pure magic.

Hot, hot, hot the next several days before we get some more rain starting to appear in the forecast.





Lady Epona

20 07 2026

Temple looks like an otherworldly equine goddess (which, of course, she IS) in the glowy stormlight a few evenings ago. That one actually brought rain. … We’re waiting for more.





Some relief

14 07 2026

This pic, taken Sunday from between the main/original water catchment and Filly Peak in Spring Creek Basin, is looking southeast toward the Glade and Benchmark Lookout. A few days before, I’d seen the red swaths of retardant across the trees while looking at smoke up there, but I didn’t manage to get a decent pic that showed it. While fire continues to smoke in that area (that’s the Ferris Fire’s northeastern edge), clearly firefighters and aircraft pilots have been hard at work. So hugely grateful! Rick and Linda Freimuth, who staff the tower during the fire season (!!!) hope get the green light to return this week. The mustangs and I (you know they would if they could) will be cheering their return.

Now, some taken yesterday (Monday):

Storm brewing to the east. Spring Creek Basin’s western rimrocks and Filly Peak (lower left) are in sunshine, while Temple Butte, McKenna Peak, Brumley Point and the basin’s eastern ridges are shadowed by rain! Woo-the-heck-hoo!

Looking back to the west from the same spot as above. More rain! What looks like white smoke on the horizon at left IS smoke from the Ferris Fire … and I hope it got a good dose of the wet stuff. It wasn’t a high-rain-chance day, but toss the forecast and let ‘er rain!

Methinks the weather wizards were outsmarted by Ma Nature herself. 😉 RAIN, BABY, RAIN! This is from Chrome’s Point in western Spring Creek Basin, looking eastish at a curtain of rain that DID, as I was taking pix, make its way west. Unfortunately, I didn’t get tooooo wet. Ha – I would not have minded!

Ants congregating at the entrance to their mound. Apparently, “Ants congregate at their mound entrances after rain primarily to survive flooding. When underground tunnels fill with water, the colony is forced to evacuate. They move the queen, larvae, and food upward to escape the saturation, using the surface or mound entrance as a temporary, elevated sanctuary.” Interestingly, these ants and others I saw doing the same thing in the same relative area happened to be on some of the highest ground in the basin, near the western boundary. I guess that when you’re an ant, everything is at the elevation of ground level (ha ha!).

From the south wall of Spring Creek canyon looking eastish after the rain (it didn’t last very long, unfortunately).

Hope you don’t mind this view! It’s pretty spectacular. No, that’s not a road down there in the canyon; that’s Spring Creek arroyo, and just beyond (lower left), it leaves Spring Creek Basin to cross lower-ish Disappointment Valley on its way to join Disappointment Creek (neither of which are carrying water at the moment).

See the pinto pony? This is from the same point as the above two pix, looking generally northwestish across lower Disappointment Valley toward Utah’s La Sal Mountains. There’s a fence across this lower end of the canyon to keep the mustangs within Spring Creek Basin, and there’s a water gap (hanging PVC pipes to move when water DOES flow) across the Spring Creek arroyo. There are a couple of manmade structures down there, one behind McKenna and one kind of in front of him.

As it turned out, though he and his pal and a band were in the vicinity – and the reason I walked out – it was something else entirely that actually took me all the way to the canyon rim. … And that will wait for another post because I got some pix that knocked even my socks off.

To end this post, news that I never want to post because I want it to never have happened, some really tragic news from the Gold Mountain Fire near Ouray and Ridgway: A pilot was killed Sunday when his aircraft, used to aid firefighting efforts on that fire, crashed into Silver Jack Reservoir, in southwestern Gunnison County, on the northeast side of the fire. It’s the worst of all news to lose another firefighter. 😦