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Lost horses in Hayden Valley 5:15 a.m. Catch and feed horses. Get ready. The group is ready to ride, and they wait for me to finish my chores. In Yellowstone Park, all domestic livestock manure must be scattered because it decomposes quicker and harbors fewer parasites. As I fulfill this last pre-ride duty, I see that Bedavi is twisting and turning frantically, his trailer-tied rope stretching to the max. I turn around and stare at 10 to 15 buffalo, circling us in. Just a little while ago, they were at least 300 feet away. Their curiosity must have overcome their hunger and now the largest land mammal in North America is approaching us slowly. By now, the massive 6-foot high bodies are less than 25 feet from us. We are facing a massive dark-brown 2000-pound creature covered with a thick shaggy pelt. Their eyes are watching us closely. Above their big black eyes, two dangerous horns bring me no peace of mind either. Sparking their curiosity, Bedavi is twisting and turning faster, trying to get out of this encounter. The fact that buffalo are herbivores does little to calm me. They are near-sighted and short-tempered. Every year, tourists are gored or killed by buffalo attacks. I pull on the end of Bedavi's rope, and the quick-release knot comes undone instantly. I love it when knowledge becomes practical. We walk to rest of the group and are greeted by smiles of relief. |
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Bedavi scans the scene for bufallo |
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I get up on my horse and wait for the end of the group to start moving. As we stand there, a car stops in the middle of the street and a guy rolls down his window. I scan my surroundings, and I am a little surprised since there is nothing-worthwhile stopping for. Surely, the buffalo are close, but there are better pullouts to view them. Nonetheless, he sticks his head out the window and yells to me: "That's a beautiful Arabian!" He smiles, gives me a thumps-up, and drives off. I am perplexed. Amidst the beautiful scenery of Hayden Valley, the rolling plateaus behind us, the Yellowstone River across from us, and an entire buffalo herd roaming through the fields, this guy actually stops to praise my horse. This must be one of Bedavi's biggest compliments ever. I know I will never see this person again, but I am grateful that they stopped. The feeling will stay with me forever. I pat Bedavi on the neck, proud and happy to have him with me. I straighten my back, sit tall and upright, take a deep breath, and follow the group with a smile. (...) For the next hours we stroll through the plateaus of Hayden Valley, watching deer and buffalo; riding on until we stop at the perfect lunch spot. Through our spotting scope we see a grizzly sow with two cubs and an elk with huge antlers. I am as excited about the grizzly as I am about our horses. They
are grazing right next to us. Some are sipping water from a pond,
others are taking a little nap. It is so joyful to witness horses
in such a beautiful setting.
A picture-perfect Yellowstone moment (...) Like all good things this ride must come to an end too, and we work our way back towards the trailhead. It is 3 p.m., and we have made good time. The edge of a small forest serves as one last stop for the day, and we are happy that all went so well. This said, Bedavi and three other horses raise their heads as if something spooked them behind us. They trot away for 60 feet and stop. We look behind us, but see nothing. We get up to bring them closer again, but as we approach all four of them take off running. With their spirits pumping and saddlebags flapping, they run over a hill - and are gone. A split-second later I find myself on top of good old Joker, cantering up the hill after our horses. On top of the hill, I see nothing. The beautiful rolling plateaus prove to be as hindering as they are scenic. When I am on a top, the four runaways must be in a bottom, and vice versa. A nice game, leaving me as the loser. I canter over a mile straight and my heart sinks. How will I ever find Bedavi again? He could be anywhere. Not sure whether I am heading in the right direction, I canter on at full speed nonetheless. Waiting is not an option. Joker, my temporary ride, works away furiously under me and we fly through Hayden Valley in a flash. I remember daydreaming about this just hours ago. But I always dreamed of riding my horse, not chasing my horse. This humorous thought stays with me for just a second. Reality gets back to me. I am on a high-speed horse chase through the wild west. This is not a movie, this is real. Sagebrush, tall grasses, roots, flower patches, and dirt spots; they flurry by in a glance. Mike has joined our chase, and is heading towards the southwest. Instinctively I trust him and follow. After two miles we finally catch up with them. I could have sworn Mike would be mad, but he only says, "We'll set his clock straight tomorrow". Mike's personality never ceases to impress me. I ask him how he found them, and he answers that he was just heading back to the trailhead. I can't believe it. These guys were heading back to the trailer even though we rode in a loop - incredible. The horses are a sweaty mess, but we decide to give them no rest and canter back to our group. While this was supposed to be a form of punishment for running away, Bedavi's Arabian endurance shines through. He doesn't mind at all. In fact, I have to stop him from passing us. Deep inside, I am excited about his power and endurance, but I am also disappointed that he ran away, leaving me standing there. Mike was right, we will have to set his clock straight tomorrow. (...) |
