We were headed for the Red Wall to spend the night when we got caught in the middle of an unexpected and mighty thunderstorm. Wyoming weather can change in a split second and before you know it, hail the size of quarters can dent your car and pound your windshield. It's so loud it's scary.
We did an abrupt turn around, drove away from the storm and went south. We got the map out and Plan B took us on a different road, a long dirt road that ended up in one of the prettiest places I had ever laid eyes on. The mountains were emerald green, the creek flowed clear and fast, the aspens were as tall as the Empire State Building and the pine trees were healthy and full and smelled so darn good. Our teepee tent looked like it belonged in that forest and C and I felt right at home, immediately.
Beavers make their home in these mountains, too. We had the pleasure of watching one forage around his very own pond, diving underwater for leaved branches then emerging, dripping wet, nibbling and gnawing away and then repeating these moves. We sat there for an hour watching, in awe, this luxurious little beast.
I thought by now I knew where every wild horse ran in the state of Wyoming. Their secret is out. I found you! Mustangs in all their glory. They've got thousands of acres of lushness and views and trees to duck under when they need to. There is plenty of room to buck and run and the widest blue sky hovering over them.
I'm making this herd my own. This new discovery, this land not far from my house, these wild animals that live and breathe and play, this untouched forest, was all a miracle to be found.
Detours. Gotta love 'em.