Wild Horse Scenic Loop in Wyoming

A magical spot conjures a memory of our pineapple field honeymoon adventure

*** Don’t forget to hit the little ❤️ if you’re enjoying the journey!***

While camping on the desolate, muddy bank of fire-stormed Grand Lake, Colorado, I spotted Wild Horse Scenic Loop on a Google search of “things to do in Western Wyoming.”

Our trip had begun to take on a feeling of wandering off the beaten track ever since we gave up our eastward trajectory at Lake Metigoshe, North Dakota. Planning now consisted of daily searches for sights to visit in the states we were navigating as we headed westward to the Oregon Coast; from there, we’d make our way to San Francisco and our granddaughter’s birthday party. 

“This is next!” I exclaimed to Mike. “Wild Horse Scenic Loop. It’s got to be good.” I was a lifelong horse lover, and watching mustangs in their natural habitat is a thrill I’d never tire of. 

Our grim drive out of Colorado through the destruction left by the East Troublesome fire brought us to Green River, Wyoming. The RV campground we found to spend the night in was of the type we generally avoid: a stretch of hot asphalt featuring a parking slot for the rig, the whole charmless place squashed between a busy train track and a freeway.

Still, the location was only ten minutes from where the Wild Horse Scenic Loop began, so we pulled in,  hooked up, took a rest, and then headed out to explore around sunset, our binoculars and cameras at the ready.

The Scenic Loop turned out to be a dirt road that began in front of Green River’s Holiday Inn. The dusty drive wound up through a cactus and tumbleweed canyon to a mesa. Twenty-four miles of meandering off-road tracks and a single unpaved road crossed the top of the mesa. That relatively flat raised plain overlooked the freeway and Green River on one side, and a painfully new development called Rock Springs on the other. 

Morning and evenings are the best times for wildlife sighting, and we arrived on the mesa at the perfect time. Sunset slanted blue shadows from a raised butte in the distance as we drove slowly along, our windows down, primed for spotting horses. Aromatic herbal smells and late summer dust tickled my nostrils as I wielded binoculars, scanning over the arid plain.

We were soon rewarded by numerous pronghorn antelope, both alone (noble but lonely-looking bucks) and in herds (does and youngsters.) 

Halfway across the mesa, we spotted a band of wild horses peacefully grazing in the distance, but too far away to see. 

A handy dirt ATV path headed in their direction. Mike slanted me a glance. “I know we said no more dirt roads, but we were talking about when towing the trailer, right?”

I grabbed the door handle. “Right.”

Soon we were heaving and bouncing across the ruts, headed for the horses. The scent of crushed sage wafted into the open cab as Mike maneuvered the narrow track, balancing on hard dirt berms and yawing to and fro to avoid rocks in the ruts.

The horses lifted their heads to gaze at us. They were unimpressed and continued grazing, allowing us to come within a respectable distance. Mike hopped out of the car with his long lens, but I only had my phone. I rolled down my window and climbed up into it, leaning out over the roof to to gain a little elevation and stability for viewing. 

I was unable to get any exciting photos but I enjoyed watching a bay mare and her chestnut colt grooming, their necks crossed as they scratched each other’s shoulders with their teeth, whisking flies with their tails. A brief scuffle between a white horse and a black-striped dun, complete with rearing, snorting and front kicks, entertained us. But for the most part, the horses just wandered under an opaline sky that shifted like watercolor with oncoming sunset. 

We eventually moved on, sighting more antelope and several more small horse herds. Mike was able to get an exceptional distance shot: a lone black horse against a purple sky with a blue butte in the distance. We glimpsed a “sun dog” (what I like to call a “spot rainbow”) caught in a cloud overhanging that large, lonely butte.

Human presence intruded around us as the organic shapes of nature were pierced by giant space-age cellular phone arrays and great steel power lines. These constructs stood with humming, outstretched arms like so many technological scarecrows against the sky. 

That sky was active, textured silk dyed rich by smoke from distant fires, a shimmering, moving backdrop that highlighted the spare landscape and the shapes of the animals and formations. 

We passed an oddity that gave both of us pause: a brand-new black Jeep SUV, its windows halfway down, parked and seemingly abandoned. I hoped no one was injured, lost, or that the vehicle was stolen or ditched… Maybe someone, seduced by the wild sky, impetuously decided to camp on the mesa. 

Mike and I did something like that, one night on our honeymoon on Maui almost forty years ago. We’d run out of money, having taken up a collection for our honeymoon at the wedding reception. The checks and crumpled dollar bills didn’t quite cover the week we’d spent on the island, even staying at dives like the Pioneer Inn in Lahaina.