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In March 2012 during the American Hoof Association's Annual Conference, we had the opportunity to take a field trip on our last day together to visit the Cold Creek Mustangs just north of Las Vegas, NV on the Spring Mountains National Recreation Area.  It was an epic experience that I would like to share. There was much of this experience that words cannot express. We come here looking for answers for our domesticated horses, and seem to leave with more questions.

The landscape was breathtaking...

Seemingly endless boundaries. This is their world. Mares, some pregnant, yearlings, stallions all together. Family bands moving, running, grazing, playing... they seemed to never be still.

What do they eat?  Little sprigs of grasses pop up through the sharp rocks and in the shade of the sage brush. This is what they were grazing on in this area.  What does the terrain they travel upon look like up close? Not a smooth stone in sight! The terrain was littered with dead trees from a previous forest fire. They floated as they ran without looking down.

How does movement on this terrain shape their feet?

Living and moving as nature intended. Hoof growth and wear in a natural ebb and flow. It is not an easy life, but it is theirs as it has been for eons.

Asa, who organized our trip, lives and rides in this area. She has found the remains of some of these horses, and preserved the feet for study.  We can see what the feet look like up close, and with the benefit of some tools, the internal structures in the feet of the horses in this terrain.

I live in the Northeast, and the majority of our pasture land in central NY is cultivated cool season grasses grown mostly for dairy cows. Many dairy farms have been converted into conventional horse barns. I wanted to put pictures side by side of the difference between what the mustangs forage on and what most domestic horses forage on.

Each of my 3 pastures are about 2 acres each. Since I keep my horses in a "Paddock Paradise" environment, they graze only 2 hours each day in the pasture, then live on track for the rest of the day/night. Out among the Cold Creek herd, there were no boundaries in sight, and for a mustang to get what mine get in 2 hours, would likely take an entire day, and cover 10+ miles to get it.

We have been conditioned to create environments for our domesticated horses that look nice, and are convenient for us. Even in Paddock Paradise, there are limitations. I have told this story to many people, but I feel it's worth recounting here. I know there are others out there that must have thought these same thoughts. Tom and I returned home one evening to see a few cars and people standing in front of our house and driveway. As we approached we were wondering what was going on.  We pulled into the driveway and our neighbors from up the road told us that our horses were out. I said "MY horses are out?" (thinking I have the most secure fences, that's impossible). He pointed out in the distance, and I said, "you're right, my horses  ARE out!". I  do have a "Houdini" among the herd, and I neglected to CLIP the barn door latch, and all my horses were way out on a 90 acre field. As I approached them quietly, they ran around me in a way I had never seen my horses move. Collected, proud, and FREE. That same spirit I saw in the wild ones was released in them. I haltered my mares and the boys just followed us home. I have never forgotten this. I felt incredibly humbled. I have provided my herd with as much as I possibly could to respect their needs with 24/7 turnout in an interesting trail that surrounds our property, good nutrition, not too much grass, companions...all the things that I have learned and teach that makes them healthier, and they are, by domesticated horse standards. But, that spirit in their eyes that manifested itself in their time of freedom, I could never reproduce in confinement, and never shake from my memory.

I often think what more can I do? I toss ideas around, and my thoughts keep coming back to creating a habitiat on a large tract of native and uncultivated land. Who knows where these thoughts will go? They will always be among the many questions I revisit each time I walk among the herds of the wild and free roaming horses.