The morning of the 20th turned out to be the most convenient beginning to a day of photographing wild horses that I've ever had. Upon waking up and starting coffee at 6:30am, I noticed five horses nearly a mile away.
I took a look through the binoculars and could see that their posture and slow movement had them directly on a line towards me. Their pace, however, might mean waiting for quite a while.
I was in no rush. Thick clouds filled the eastern sky and it made for a cold and dark daybreak. But this was too good to pass up when you don't even have to start the car and go anywhere. I could just kick back, drink coffee, eat a snack and let things develop.
The group steadily drifted my way and I could tell that these same five had approached me on Oct 25. They noticed my camp and continued walking towards me. Everything was looking perfect for a close encounter with them.
Eventually they were within ~150 yards. At that point, the unmistakable sounds from a fight could be heard far away. Loud hooves thundered and raced in the distance. The group of five was captivated. I turned my lens to see if I could spot the commotion. Almost two miles away a few mustangs were chasing each other around. It was incredible how well you could hear the battle. It was an otherwise perfectly calm and silent morning, but the mood had suddenly changed.
The leader of the group of five near me didn't hesitate -- he gave the subtle signal and the horses ran north at full gallop. They had no interest in being anywhere near the fighting. I was shocked that they were unafraid of me a few hundred feet away, but the scuffle miles away wasn't worth the risk. Perhaps they understood where those horses were going.
I felt like a great opportunity had just slipped away, but the photo shoot would continue and I didn't need to move an inch. I was at a crossroads apparently and I had no idea.
Several other groups of horses to the south fled the drama and their paths crossed right through my camp. Eventually the rival males causing all the drama followed up behind all the others.
The rivals ran past me and then circled each other. The cold air around them briefly became foggy from their heavy breath. They were winded and had been running for miles, stopping just a couple hundred feet away.
To my surprise, the drama almost immediately ceased. Without any bucking or biting, the rival groups calmed down. Three of the bachelors slowly drifted away, while the boldest, loudest and most energetic of them all remained with his partner.
About 90 minutes had passed from the slow drift of the original five, to the semi-dramatic but anti-climactic finale. It seemed like a good stopping point, so I walked a hundred or so feet back to the car for a bit more breakfast.
Then the sun and the clouds all began to develop really nicely. Seeing that the main provocateur was just a stone's throw away, I couldn't resist a few more shots with a different lens. See the next post, Crossroads Camp Part 2, for the conclusion of this photo shoot.
