8 June – Cody to Livingston

We headed out of Cody through the desert to a place called Pryor Mountain, right on the Wyoming / Montana border. It was the first wild horse reserve (created in 1968) and one of the few places you can see Mustangs roaming free. We stopped in at the Pryor Mountain Wild Mustang Centre, for some directions on where best to find the wild herds and set off up the mountain.

The Pryor Mountain mustangs are unique because they are genetically direct descendants of the Spanish Conquistador horses. They have been geographically isolated from the other mustang populations so have remained pure bred Spanish. There are around 120 of them in the reserve. We were advised that there were two main areas to see them, just inside the park, at a lake, and 25 miles further in, at a place called Mustang Flats. We kept a close eye out near the lake, but nothing. As we drove up into the range, the land was terrible – scrubby bushes, not much grass, and canyons everywhere. Really astonishing that horses survive on that type of terrain. Also very hard to see anything as there were a million places horses could be standing 100 feet from the road and you wouldn’t see them. So we parked the RV at a pull over and went for a walk. We found lots of horse tracks leading into the canyon, but we didn’t want to venture too far as it was a scorching hot day and easy to get lost.

We conceded defeat and stopped at the lake on the way out for lunch. We packed up and were just driving away from the lake when… there they were! Walking out of the tree line and heading down to the lake for a drink. They were a quite a distance away, but we had binoculars and a zoom lens, so got a good look. There were foals trotting along beside their mums, and the stallion shaking his mane and prancing about showing off.  Lovely – and worth the trouble to find them.

We headed out on the road to Montana. The Wyoming / Montana border area is very deserty, but with the Yellowstone River flowing through, so there were little farming communities scattered along the highway. Once into Montana and headed East again, it got greener and more lush. The wind was bad – sweeping across the plains and buffeting the van. We had intended getting to Bozeman today, but by about 5ish we had enough and pulled off the highway at a place called Livingston.