As I write this, I am sitting under our camper’s awning looking out on the sloping meadow with our new companions grazing happily while I contemplate the difference between surviving and living, waking and dreaming, getting through the day and being so excited you could cry every minute. Right now there are 12. There are two blacks for sure, then the sun is too low and I can’t tell if I’m seeing palominos, roans, bays, buckskins… and I need to look up the grulla and sabino coloring (or are they breeds?) when we have internet or a library or bookstore. We’re at the top of Pryor Mountain in Montana, close to Wyoming, but actually we’re in a wonderland that can’t really be on this planet as far as I’m concerned. The horses come and go all around us in the trees and meadows, and at the pond behind us. A few hours ago we tried to come back to the camper to make dinner – we were starving – but then came the sound of thundering hooves and the vision out the camper window of a copper Palomino stallion. Prancing, galloping, and snorting – there went our need for food, once again. Hours later, here we are finally enjoying Jack’s fabulous Chicken Matzo Ball soup, watching horses and the sunset.
These are wild horses. They are the offspring from escaped horses hundreds of years ago – we all want to believe they are descendents of the incredible horses that the King of Spain gave to Coronado in the 1500’s I believe. DNA testing does prove that many are Spanish horses. So, as well as being in this gorgeous scenery, we’re in the middle of American history and spirited, beautiful horses. I’m in my own personal paradise. So, if any of you find me missing in the future, just come up here with a cheese enchilada, a long hot bath and a pedicure please. There’s no water or electricity up here, it’s a long, dusty and rough road up the mountain in 4-low, but the ambience can’t be beat.
We have taken way too many pictures of these beauties, as they go about their day mare-stealing, harem-forming, and child-rearing, which also entails fighting off potential threats to all of those. The stallions are so – sorry – studly. One of them is Cloud, and I guess there’s a movie about him which of course now we’ll have to see.
The pictures I’ll post are just with my limited skill and silly little camera; Jack is taking some real ones which will probably be exceptional. Not sure when that will be, considering this gypsy lifestyle of ours.

The mustang-whisperer is here, a fellow I’ve known about for a couple of years since I follow everything I can about wild horses; he’s also from New Mexico and owns 100 mustangs himself. Today he lured 3 horses in to his corral then trailer, and is on the way with them to turn them over for adoption to some lucky horse-lover somewhere. There is also a researcher here, Hannah, who spends her days sitting under trees watching horses and studying them. We’ve talked a bit with both of these very interesting people and I’ll write more about them when I can.

They used to shoot these wild horses and sell them by the pound for dog food; they were like the vermin of the ranges.
In the recent past they have been elevated to much higher status, as their stamina, intelligence and beauty has been confirmed over and over. Now, the government manages a program to keep an eye on all the herds throughout the west. Most stay up in the wild, living as horses have for thousands of years, by their wits. Some are caught and adopted every year, - even though some people object to this and feel we should let their populations grow to what others feel would be past the point of there being enough food and land for them.

So, I’m in heaven. If there’s no more blog from us it will be because I’m too depressed about leaving the presence of all of these horses. They wander around these hundreds of acres that we parked in them middle of, and they don’t seem to mind.

Of all of the wild horse areas in this country, this one has the most beautiful horses close enough that you can really see in to their eyes and hearts and watch them in their natural environment. And the babies – Oh My. No words for those babies. Tomorrow I think we’ll go down the mountain to Billings, get more water and supplies and come back up here; Jack is as smitten as I am.
Now there are 25 horses out here, including Cloud and his family. Since the last paragraph I watched as he had a minor skirmish involving kicking, biting and running off 3 horses he didn’t approve of being near his family. Now, most of them just took off running over the hillside. And at the same time I’m hearing whinnies behind me… see what I mean? This is too good to be true. I’m about ready to grow a mane and tail.

So far, this is by far the high point of our trip.

(Jack's note) the drive up here was a bit hairy. I think that, when a forest ranger tells me that a road is "moderately exciting", I will think twice before taking it.