Walking with Pryor Mountain wild horses

POWELL, Wyo. (AP) — Matt Dillon, who runs the Pryor Mountain Wild Mustang Center in Lovell, is driving his Jeep Cherokee up a twisted rocky road in the Burnt Timber area. He talks as he steers his rig, theorizing that Crow Native Americans likely were responsible for the Spanish horses’ Pryor Mountain appearance 200 years ago.

Many mixed-pedigree wild horses roam the west from missing 19th-Century U.S. Army cavalry mounts or Great Depression-era horses turned out by their masters.
“This is the first public wild horse area in the United States,” Dillon said.

Dillon guides his car up the rough mountain road through a vast ascending plain of vivid red earth dotted with stunted olive-green juniper, pea-green sage and clumps of yellow timothy. The country is stark and lovely. Mountain desert.

“I do know them all and I know them pretty well,” said Dillon. That might sound like boasting, but to Dillon, every one of the horses has a name, and he knows each by color and other physical attributes.

“Horse!”

While driving, Dillon spots one on a distant hill.
“Looks like it is Lakota.”

One theory is the Pryor ponies forefathers hailed from Lewis and Clark’s historical 1803-06 expedition. Dillon believes they are Spanish horses.

With about 150 adults, the Pryor equines are the largest genetically-pure herd. Bloodlines dating back hundreds of years. These Spanish mustangs have made their home in the Pryor Mountains of southern Montana and northern Wyoming for 200 years.

Their ancestors arrived with the Spanish Conquistadors sailing into Mexico in the 16th century. The animals’ physical characteristics have been studied by experts, and that is their conclusion. And, given the mountain’s natural boundaries, the Pryor herd has, for the most part, remained genetically pure, Dillon said.

Later, Dillon finally pulls to a stop behind his father, Tom Dillon, who leads the two-car caravan. Waiting for them is Clayton McCracken of the Montana Wilderness Association, who spent the night here.

With the aid of binoculars and a spotting scope, the horses can be observed on the hills above and below. Like seasoned elk hunters, these boys have the skill to spot their subjects amid miles of steep inclines, rocks and trees.

Horses have keen hearing. But if they can discern the voices discussing them, they offer no sign. They peacefully crop the sparse grass in air still chilly from the last night.

One horse, Phoenix stands out. A beautiful palomino mare. A halo capturing the sun.

After about 20 minutes, the convoy, with McCracken bringing up the rear, heads back down the road to a spot where a short hike will hopefully afford a closer peek at the mustangs.

The party finds Santa Fe and his family of four grazing in the valley. Santa Fe’s wife, Gabriel, keeps a guarded eye on the humans snapping pictures and speaking softy.

It’s exciting and just a bit nerve-racking as Gabriel regards the men. Her pointed ears tuned to the humans are intimidating, her stare baleful.

Despite Gabriel’s peevishness, it is a perfectly peaceful moment. The serenity is complete and all encompassing.
Hooves softly beat the earth as the beasts, averaging about 14 hands, meander through the meadow. There is nothing but the amiable sound of teeth plucking grass and the soft wind humming through the scattered trees as it tousles thick manes. But, it is time to move on.

After checking a newly-installed water tank for the horses, the group heads back toward the road.

The herd is divided into family units of about five _ the stallion, mare and their offspring.

Competition for choice acreage is fierce. Huge mountains of horse droppings called stud piles mark territories, and unless a stallion is willing to duke it out with the stallion that left the mess, he best scat.

After topping a rise, Two Boots, a fine dark stallion, appears.

Two Boots is on high alert. But it isn’t the men that captured his attention. It’s Santa Fe trotting out to trade insults.

Dillon says neither horse is a “strong stallion,” but tough guy or not, they must protect their territory and their family.

Santa Fe races across the field, a blurry black-brown thug. In a flash the animals are together, circling, leery, their flanks rubbing.

“Heeeee!” Santa Fe is piqued. Two Boots has invaded his territory.

The stallions turn and twist, their gleaming bodies seemingly intertwined. They nip each other a bit, but in the brief challenge, neither gets too riled up.

Many stallions bear long scars on the bodies where their rivals have bitten them.

Two Boots gets the message. It is time to beat a hasty retreat. With his head and neck bent low, Two Boots “snakes,” or herds his clan, away from Santa Fe’s family.
The stallions’ showdown tickles Dillon, but he is delighted to see Two Boots.

“As far as I know, we’re the first humans Two Boots has seen since November.”

Most of the Pryor wild horse 39,000-acre range, created in 1968, is in Montana, so it is under the supervision of the Billings field office of the Bureau of Land Management. But the center has a personal stake – the mustangs.

Dillon and the center’s chief concerns are maintaining the horses’ genetic viability, protecting their boundaries and providing enough water in the arid region.

The center, a private, nonprofit organization, opened last June.

Dillon is the only full-time employee and plans to offer wild-horse tours this year. These days, he checks the herd weekly. His is more than a job. It’s his passion.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, animated, “I can’t complain much about it.”

To Dillon, it is more than just watching the horses. It’s about preserving the herd and its habitat for future generations.

“What we did today,” Dillon said, “we want people to be able to do in 100 years.”