During January of 2023, I was visiting the beautiful Grand Canyon, staying in the campground on the South Rim. We were one of only five in a campground of 300 hookups. One day, I took a drive to an area called Dinosaur Tracks on the Navajo Reservation near Yuba City. On my way back to the campground near the westernmost part of the canyon itself, I came across a stunning view of a small band of Mustangs. One Stallion with what appeared to be two fillies and three mares.
I was blessed a few years before to have an encounter with Mustangs in Montana, but much to my dismay, I didn’t have a camera on that occasion. This time I did.
Just off the virtually abandoned winter highway from Yuba City to the canyon, I saw them. It was near 6:00 PM. They were not more than two hundred feet off the highway, grazing West. I stopped my Jeep and got out. To my surprise and excitement, they didn’t run away.
The Stallion, beautiful in more ways than I can count, I noticed spoke in his own way to the band, I would like to think, telling them that I meant them no harm. Slowly and cautiously, he walked closer to me and stopped about 50 feet away. When he stopped, he looked me over and then acted as if I wasn’t there. I want to think he was being friendly, but I know he was putting himself between me and his band, making sure he could get to me before I could get to them. Something, I am sure, hasn’t changed since horses came to this continent.
I felt transported to a world of another time, a world I fear will soon no longer exist. But there they were in all their glory, their freedom unchallenged. A freedom we humans have no right to take away from them. I worry that we, as humans, have long forgotten what freedom truly means. I hope we will always, from today to eternity, find a way that this and other bands of Mustangs can roam free forever.
Shortly afterwards, there was a filly that overcame her fear, or her curiosity overcame her caution, came walking over almost to the Stallion. She turned her back on me the whole time, I am sure, out of caution, allowing her to run if I moved. She looked back at me just once, then fast walked, returning to her band. She’d seen enough of this human. One of the mares must have been her mom, as she bumped this little lady hard with her nose, probably scolding her for coming so close to me, probably saying, “Why don’t you listen?” The filly snorted loudly and
walked away from her mom, most likely saying something like, “Yeah, sure!”
In time, Bright Eyes, a name I gave him because his eyes sparkled in the evening sun in contrast to his white face amongst the surrounding earthtones. He looked up and stared at me for what seemed like minutes, then he took off in a flurry and ran to his band. When he arrived, I’m sure he told them I was just another tourist, so he played his part for me. I was so caught up in the moment, I couldn’t believe I didn’t take a photo as he ran away… his mane waving and his tail, long and almost touching the ground, flying in the wind.
This was the last I saw of them as they made their way down a gully out of my sight. I was let down; they were gone. The excitement soon returned of those few minutes I had with them. I know this encounter was unexpected by them, and in a way, unavoidable for them. I’m the one who disrupted their world. But, for a short while, it felt like the Stallion was allowing me to be a part of their band for a short while.
This was a point in time that I hope comes again. I’ve been twice blessed, I hope there is a third.
Of course, the two kids are fooling around and falling behind the parents.
