For weeks they had been ghosts, last seen up close at the end of June.
And then no one could find them. For weeks we had driven all the roads, up and down the sketchy trails, over wash outs designed to make the faint of heart head back to town. All to no avail. We saw no horses and no fresh sign. Messages flew between friends. “Have you been on the range? Did you find them?” It was becoming a concern. Never had they been gone so long. Where were our mustangs?
In July, in the distance, we saw two bachelor stallions.
They were alone, probably driven away from the herd by the band stallion. They kept their distance and were guarded and skittish. With a long lens we at least managed a photo or two.
After that we were skunked again and again. “Nowhere, nothing” over and over again. Not a bird, not a chipmunk, nothing.
Once we saw a bunny on the road on our way home. Absolutely horrible photo but sometimes ya gotta take what you can get because how can you go home with an empty data card?
Another time, maybe in August, we glimpsed a small herd on the top of a ridge so deep in the back country that even with binoculars it was hard to distinguish which band we were seeing. We blinked and they were gone. That time not even a photo.
Rain doesn’t fall in Idaho from mid-June until the autumn storms, which usually start in October. That means September on the range is dry and dusty. It is also the start of hunting season. Hunting season means mustangs hide.
But we had to try again.
We headed up towards the water troughs. Seeing no fresh sign our hopes were fading fast. Not one new stud pile, no fresh tracks. The evening sun was dipping lower in the sky and our time was getting short. But we trekked on.
As we pulled around the last bend we could see the troughs, sitting there all alone, not a single sign of life to be had. We sat there for a moment, disappointed yet again. Putting the jeep in gear I started to turn around when Jamie, always the excellent spotter, shouted “Wait! Stop!” Knowing her, she had seen a single ear popping over the hill. We stopped.
We waited. Suddenly Bear, the big pinto stallion, drove his band into water. Leading the group was the beautiful palomino mare, Starship Moonshine. It was a thrilling moment. After months they were here. Little did we know it was only going to be for maybe 10 minutes. But it was a glorious 10 minutes! Things were about to get so much better.
The dirt around the troughs was like baby power. As the herd moved in, they stirred up the dust in great clouds. It hung in the air like a gossamer curtain.
The sun was sinking low behind them. The dust was catching their shadows and starting to hide them from view.
Then, as quick as they had arrived, they were gone. After months had we really found them?
Or were they simply ghosts, nothing more than shadows in the dust.
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