Golden Hour on the Range

At the end of a day in the high country, the horses came first. Before anyone sat down, saddles came off, backs were checked for sores, and the animals were turned out on the meadow, because the grass there was most of the feed they would get.

Turned-out horses were usually hobbled: a short strap or rope buckled between the front legs that let a horse graze and shuffle along but not run off. Many outfits also hung a bell on one steady animal, often a mare, so the rest would stay near her and the packer could find the bunch in the dark or the morning fog. Mules in particular will follow a bell mare almost anywhere.

Camp itself was simple: a canvas tent or a tarp, a fire built small enough to cook on, water close by and the stock within earshot. A good creek mattered more than the view.

This one has both. Granite peaks catch the last of the sun above banks of cloud. Below, a creek runs clear over stones, and on the meadow beside it a few figures sit by a fire whose smoke rises in a pale column. Horses graze around the camp, one close to the water, and tall pines close in the right side of the picture.