I’ve decided to let naming the new Mustangs be this evening’s problem, in favor of storytime because it’s been a while, hasn’t it?
With spring in the air, green grass coming up and new (wild)life soon or already coming into the world, I’m itching to get back into the still snow covered mountains soon-ish.
During last year’s solo trips I took lots of pictures and the time to write some of our adventures down. Then I got busy and didn’t share most of them. Here’s a story about creating said new life that really made for a memorable time in the wilderness.
I’d finally made it into camp, a few hours later than I had planned. It was nearing sunset already and when you’re setting up camp by yourself for yourself and several critters – Wild Horse Outreach & Advocacy Mustangs Tiny and Petrie and the ever-helpful German Shepherds – it takes a while.
First order of business was hobbles on so the horses could graze, followed by unloading the pack horse, both for her relief and to access my gear. I pulled out what I would need that night, fed the dogs, and found a good spot to set up the highline.
The sun had long set and I was zooming around in the last bit of daylight, when I noticed that Tiny was staring intently into the distance.
Doing backcountry riding, you learn to watch your horse for what’s out there, especially a Mustang. I grabbed my binos and of course he was right.
Two moose, a bull and a cow, obviously rather enamored with one another. At about 100 yards distance I wasn’t exactly thrilled about our company but also not too worried about them. Yet.
I’d encountered moose there before, I just hadn’t been dumb enough to camp there during the rut. Whoops.
They weren’t worried about us. Unfortunately they were so preoccupied with making more moose, they also weren’t worried about where they were going.
It didn’t help that it was too dark to pack up and move camp, in either case not knowing where Romeo and Juliet Moose were headed and if another camp spot would have its own moose love story. I was packing heat, but not enough to stop a charging moose in its tracks if it came down to it. Also whoops.
Tiny stared until it got too dark to see them while Petrie grazed peacefully. The crashing and crunching of moose in brush came closer and closer, until they were within 30 yards of camp. I was not happy.
By that time I had finished setting up, put the horses on the highline and crawled into my tent. Needless to say I wasn’t tired and I had decided to sleep in my riding clothes and with my sleeping bag open, everything I might need within reach.
I wasn’t going to die in or have to run from a moose in the middle of the night in my pajamas, nope. Around 11pm the crunching stopped, the dogs stopped grumbling and all was quiet until 4.30 when a loud snort from one of the horses startled me awake. The Shepherds’ giant ears were on high alert.
Shining my headlight out of the tent, I didn’t see any intruders, just two highlined Mustangs wide awake, watching something in the dark meadow. I convinced the dogs to keep quiet, apparently moose strongly dislike and will attack dogs, and distracted myself with an audiobook until first daylight.
I can’t carry a tune in a bucket and when I get scared out there I usually sing German folk songs, loudly. That’s always kept moose and people away from me yet.
#wildhorseswillingpartners#horsepacking#adventure#backcountry#makingmountainmustangmemories
