Wild Memories Photography Tours

When I went to the Pryor Mountains in hopes of seeing the wild mustangs, I could scarcely dare to believe that they would be there to be seen, let alone that Cloud would be around.

For as long as I can remember it has been my dream to see wild horses roaming free in the meadows of a high mountain top – most likely since the first time Grandma put me on a horse and began to tell me stories.

The Pryor Mountain herd has been close by for the past two years but for some reason I could not push myself to go.  Would it be as wonderful as I had imagined?  I had heard of Cloud but did not know him or his story.  I am kind of like that – wanting to learn the stories from my own experiences first and then go back and look at the history.  So, I had heard that there was this awful road that led to the horses and that most of them were on the mountain top but that was about as much as I knew because the center was closed on my first day there.

And so I wandered around blind, managing to find 7 wild horses but not even the road that led me up the mountain.  I had no expectations, only dreams.

When, at last, I started up that road I thought it the foolish thing to do because it was so very wicked.  And, I nearly gave up and most likely would have, had I not walked up a particularly bad hill and kept walking until I could look upon some meadows in the distance.  When I saw 4 horses only a mile away I could not turn back and so had to continue.

But, I did not know how lucky that decision was going to be for me because when I reached those horses there was an empty Jeep parked nearby.  Not seeing anyone I began photographing the horses, three bachelors stallions and one white yearling filly that was so sweet she broke my heart in two.  It turns out that that was Nimbus, Clouds filly from last year.

The story of Nimbus is mind boggling and I was so very pleased with myself to have figured it out before being told.  I could not understand why a filly would be hanging with three bachelor stallions.  It turns out that earlier this year her father, Cloud, had the battle of his life with two other stallions, Cap and Doc.  At nineteen Cloud’s days are running short and he is no longer the mighty white stallion of the mountains that he once was and it was time for the younger guys to challenge him.

From what I am told by people at the wild horse center in Lovell, Doc and Cloud fought quite a fierce battle and Cloud ended up with an injury to a hind leg.  He kept his band that day but, evidently, Doc soon took them away.

In the separation, for some reason that no one understands, Nimbus did not join her mother in Doc’s band.  Instead she hooked up with three bachelors – a young roan in particular.  The name book is back at the trailer so I don’t have that information with me right now.

I was told that there is some concern that Nimbus bred with the roan and so everyone is on pin and needles, with fervent prayers, that she was not.  I did not think that a yearling could breed so young.  But, she is also larger than some of the other yearlings so I am wondering if she was born early in the year?  One of the questions I will need to ask

As I was photographing the 4 horses, a man and two younger people walked up the hill.  The man turned out to be Steve, a guide, and he was so very kind when he told me that Cloud was just over the hill

I was pinching myself with restraint, not believing that I might be lucky enough to see Cloud for myself. I waited a while, took some more photos and talked with the people before meandering over the hill where I did not see the horses.

Disappointment turned to glee when I spotted a white stallion next to a large tree.

He was ever so nonchalant as he looked over his shoulder to find me behind him.  I am sure that Cloud is used to being photographed and so he really did not pay me any attention.  The guy has no clue that he is famous!  That was what I was thinking – he was just another wild horse out there with what is now a much smaller band.

It turns out that two of Clouds mares returned to him and one gave birth to the black colt that I am calling Sun, for he is definitely Clouds sunshine.  I edited an image and labeled it “cloudandson,” and it struck me how perfect the name “Sun” was for the son of Cloud.  Particularly after I watched the two of them together and could see Cloud’s genuine affection for his son.  And particularly after I heard the story about Cloud losing his band, only to gain two back, thereby keeping his colt

I spent about 20 minutes photographing the band and had hoped to see them again on my way back down the mountain but they were no where to be found.

I can not wait to get back up on that mountain to watch these horses some more.  The dream is now stronger than ever before, even though it has been realized.  I want more.  Wild horses are this young girl’s, in an older woman’s body, crack.

As long as the dreams of a little girl are still alive, even in later years, she is still a young girl at heart.