Among the Brumbies

Davis Mountains, Utah

We were well stocked with everything except for propane.  The nights have been really cold as of late.  During last night's snow storm, our little furnace worked as the temperatures dropped into the low 20s.  We knew the desert well enough to understand that temperatures drop like a rock at night.  Reluctantly, we drove the thirty miles back to Tooele to fill our two propane half tanks.  It was a good thing that we did... we knew one was empty but had no idea how close to empty the second one was.

We returned to the Davis Mountains a bit after five o'clock and pulled off onto an area that had been well-used for camping.  In fact, there were so many roads criss-crossing the site that it felt like we were on a motorcross trail.  We weren't far from wrong.  We awoke the next morning to the sound of an ATV.  Unbeknownst to us, we had camped in the middle of an ATV dirt-track... and Utah appears to be ATV heaven.  We couldn't believe how many rigs had pulled in around us overnight just to use the site.  We quickly broke camp.  Our one goal for the day was to find the brumbies (Austrailian for wild horses).

We discovered the herd nearly a half mile off the road.  We parked, and I slipped out to see what my long lens could pick up.  They were too far to make good shots, so David and I began walking towards them. This is something that I love to do.  My grandfather was a rancher.  He could walk among a herd of cattle without so much as disturbing even the most skittish of animals.  He taught me to do the same, and I feel as if he is walking with me when I am out among the horses.

Wild horses normally stay in small bands numbering between 8-15.  We guessed that because of the time of year, the bands had gathered into a large herd numbering well over 100.  The main herd was composed of stallions, mares, yearlings, and foals.  Along the periphery of the main herd, there were two smaller groups of stallions.  One band was led by a white stallion and his close companion, a black with a blaze on his forehead.  The white stallion appeared to be older.  The second bachelor stallion band seemed to have younger stallions, perhaps three year olds and up.

The older stallion band was closest to me, so I began inching up on them.  The white stallion curled his upper lip up at me.  This is a gesture that a horse will use to get a better smell.  I stopped and began clicking away.  When his compainion laid down, I knew that the band had accepted me and felt no threat.

The entire herd grazed further and further from the road, so David and I decided to see what other treasures the area might hold.  We drove up the Pony Express trail and found a small herd of antelope.  We had to laugh when we discovered a large "campground closed due to government shutdown" sign on the only campground in the area.  Some poor park ranger had driven over 30 miles up a dirt road to plaster this sign.  Evidently nobody was too worried about fines for trespassing.  Two groups had their camps set up within the grounds.

Later in the afternoon, we found the brumbies near a rutted but passable road.  We had spoken earlier to a local photographer who assured us that the herd was very approachable as long as they weren't spooked.  We found him in the middle the main herd, shooting away, so I chose to photograph the younger stallion band.

Because the sun was in front of me, I worked my way among the horses towards the mountain.  I hoped to be able to maneuver enough to have the sun at my back.

I finally got into better lighting only to hear a horse very close behind me.  He was passing an enormous amount of gas.  I suddenly realized that I was no more than fifteen feet from a stud pile, a large pile of horse manure.  Stallions will often best one another by pooping on a stud pile.  Sometimes these stud piles grow to several feet high.

The stallion closest to me was grunting and posturing at a painted stallion near him.  Thankfully, the paint backed off.

The dark stallion pooped on the pile and ambled off to graze.  I backtracked a safe distance before the painted stallion came forward, sniffed, and added his contribution to the pile.

The horses were so close now that I could hardly photograph them with the big lens.  One of the colts came up to me.  I was wary and very respectful, however, since his mother was just behind him and would occasionally drop her ears back when she looked at me... never a good sign.

I had just finished photographing the colt when two stallions stood face-to-face, just ten feet or so in front of me.  They arched their necks and pressed them against one another.  The stallions began to blow and snort in a manner that I had never heard before.  Their ears laid back as the grunting continued, and I knew that I was in trouble.  These stallions were about to fight, and I was close enough to simply be part of the landscape.

Moments before the ruckus

I stepped backwards, almost directly into the flank of another young stallion.  This stud was obviously more interested in the ensuing ruckus than in me.  When I realized that, my situation felt even more precarious.  In my photographic trance, I had no idea that I had managed to maneuver myself directly into the center of the younger stallion band.  Five stallions, the colt, his mother, and  I were at full attention as we watched, waiting to see what the two disgruntled stallions would do.  Thankfully, their posturing ended quickly and peacefully.  After a quick "Thank You, Papa!!!" prayer, I began to sidestep out of the circle, my heart pounding from the experience.

Below me, the larger part of the herd began to trot.  I didn't know if the other photographer had spooked them or if the herd was just ready to leave.  All appeared well, however, as my young stallion band began grazing further and further away from me.

The shoot was over.  I strolled back to the truck, feeling radiant.  David spied me, smiling also.  I knew that I hadn't taken any great photographs and, perhaps, I had even taken my grandfather's teachings to another level... maybe even to the point that I had been a bit reckless while trying to move among these wild stallions.  This was, however, the most exhilarating horse shoot ever.  Wow!!!

David and I set up camp under the shadow of the Davis Mountains.  Our vista was a remarkable desert mountain scene with an enormous herd of wild horses grazing in the meadow below us.  It just doesn't get any better than this!!!

Davis Mountains, Utah