Darling Calls Dibs...AGAIN!

On Saturday morning, bright and early, we met our friends Maggie & Farrel for a quick continental breakfast in the lobby of the Silver Spur. Maggs & I wanted to head out and get an early start up to the mountain, so by 7 am we were in our vehicles and heading towards the South Steens.

This was City Boy's first trip to the mountains, and he wasn't sure what to expect. 70 miles outside of town, we turned off the paved road and headed up a well maintained gravel road. We'd not gone far before we spotted what we were after...a set of ears poked over the top of a ridge, so off to the side we pulled and we began our trek on foot across the lava rocks in search of wild mustangs.

A bachelor band of five greeted us, and imagine Darling's delight when she found her old pal, Dibs, up on the hill among them!

Darling began her slow approach to the young stallion. We had originally thought that Dibs and his buddy were roughly 1-2 years old when we first spotted them a couple of years ago, but Dibs' friend had been aged by the BLM as a 5 year old this year, and we expect that Dibs is the same age.

Two years ago, Dibs barely gave Darling a second glance. This time? He watched intently and with great curiosity as she quietly and confidently circled toward him.

I'm not sure what City Boy was thinking as his daughter approached the stallion. I know that Maggie was standing next to me absolutely trembling. Emotions were running rampant inside of her as she whispered, "This is so cool! But my grandma genes are screaming to be careful! But it's just so cool!!!"

Then Dibs did something that had me catch my breath. He turned and faced up to Darling. I swear, had she reached out her hand he'd have reached forward to sniff.

Rather than take the chance of him retreating first, Darling quietly stepped back from her friend. Who would have guessed that she'd have had that wild horse moment of a lifetime, twice in a lifetime?

Adventure!

It was December of 2008 when I first visited the South Steens and had my first real taste of wild horses. Not that I've not tasted wild horse here, what with the dirt and loose hair flying, but truly wild? What an experience!

This is where I first met Honor, the beautiful dark dun stallion. I have no clue why I named him that, but when I shared his photo and his name, it stuck. Photographers I've never met share images of him, and they, too, call him Honor.

Wandering about, drifting in and out among the horses, was a young colt with a big blaze and four white stockings. Very sociable, not caring who's mares or offspring he buddied up with, it was difficult at first to determine who's 'child' he was. But as the others began to scatter, the colt stuck around with a bay mare and it became apparent he was one of Honor's band. Feeling somewhat romantic, I dubbed him Honor's Legacy.

Of course, I knew then that the gather was just a year away, and that little Legs may never become a herd stallion like his father.

It was February of this year before I saw 'my boy' again. Debbie and I were down at Color Fest, and one evening we drove up to the Steens with friend Lea and her daughter Nikki. All I saw was a butt...his back was to us and it was such a distance, but I knew it was him. The moment he realized there were people on the opposite side of the valley he began walking and stalking, attempting to determine if we were friend or foe.

At this point, little Legacy would have been 2 years old, but he was no longer out on the mountainside with his father. The previous day Debbie & I had been able to snag a ride on the morning hay wagon as it made it's rounds at feeding time, and when the blazed face appeared in the group of recently gathered geldings I knew instantly who it was.

For awhile I tried to find Legs an adopter, but no one showed interest, and after a few weeks I concluded that I'd likely never know where the colt would end up. Sad, as someone would end up adopting the son of a stallion who was now becoming somewhat famous, and they'd never know it.

A couple months went by, and one day while on Facebook I spotted a photo posted by a friend of mine, talking about Gunner, the colt they'd recently adopted.

Say WHAT?

There he was, staring into the camera with is big brown eyes...Honor's Legacy! I immediately contacted Maggie to tell her the news. She was shocked, and then thrilled. So thrilled, that she became obsessed with all photos of the little guy, which as it turned out, there were plenty of. Several different photographers began offering up images of Honor and his band, showing Legs (now Gunner) as a weanling and yearling. One even had stories of how he'd approached her daughter up on the mountain during one visit.

Showing up in a handful of photos was a bay mare, Gunner's mother. Maggie was now on a mission to find out if that mare had been gathered. She sent photos of her in to the BLM corrals in Oregon, and amazingly one day got an email to say that the mare had been found.

Do I really need to tell you what happens next? This weekend we'll be joining Maggs and her husband in Harney County where we'll first venture up onto the mountain to visit wild horses, and on Monday morning when the corrals open up? We'll be on hand to photograph Gunner's mother as she's loaded up and heads 'home' to be with her son.

And so it is, my friends, that I am headed south...home...out on another adventure with the wild horses this weekend. I can just barely wait until morning...

Can You Please Tell Me...

...just how I'm supposed to limit my week at the fair to just one post on my blog? Can't be done, I'm pretty sure.

Duns was spectacular, though he didn't find an adopter. Nothing fazed this boy, nothing at all. Flags snapping and flapping in the wind, draft horses coming and going, even a 4-H parade led by a handful of little drummer boys with their boom-boom-boom couldn't get snort out of him. He simply spent the week lounging contentedly in his paddock, and when it came time to saddle up for the first time? Piece of cake. By his third day he was standing ground tied while I flung the saddle up onto his back and tightened it up.

While I worked with Duns, Darling got busy with La Primera, a two year old pinto from the Paisley Desert who'd been adopted by our friend Debbie.

To start, she used the long rope with the 2" 0 ring, running the end of the rope through the ring and fashioning what looks like a very long training collar around the filly's belly. She pulled it tight and had her move so that she could get used to the feel of something pulling there before the saddle went on.

The rope went smoothly, so the old saddle came out and went on. All I can say is, it's a good thing mom was close by and not standing with a camera, because the cinch had an entirely different reaction! Up into the air she went, first with a big rear, then a couple of bucks before being pulled around. After that? Nothing.

Darling was itching all week to climb on board, but being the mean mommy I am, I ordered her feet to stay on the ground. Can't say that I blame her, as I had the same feeling about Duns. But who needs an ambulance ride out of the fair grounds? Neither of us, I can assure you!

I've barely tapped into the slew of photographs from the fair, but did want to share these two with you of the most adorable little 4 year old who was driving in the youth cart class. She was such a feather weight, the horse didn't even know she was there; his trot was one of great determination once in the arena, and Daddy had to help out just a wee little bit. But what an experience for the little sprite!