By Caleb Hoover
My first encounter with wild Mustangs came rather unexpectedly. One spring, while living the van life and exploring the western U.S. with my brother and cousin, we set up camp at a new location deep in the pine forests near the Grand Canyon’s south rim in Arizona. As we unpacked our gear, a strange stillness settled over the forest. The crackle of the fire seemed to echo louder than it should. Then, a low rustling, the faintest shuffle of something large. I turned, and there they were—eighteen Mustangs, no more than thirty feet from camp, stood staring. Somehow, amidst the noise of camp setup, we had missed thousands of pounds of horse moving gracefully toward us.
At first, I was perplexed. Where did they come from? Who owns them? How on earth did we miss them sneaking up on us? I slowly reached for my camera, hoping to answer some of these questions. I spent the next few hours walking with the herd, habituating them to my presence and capturing them as they socialized and went about their activities. As a professional wildlife photographer, I have photographed subjects of all sorts in some amazing places, but I had never considered horses—or wild Mustangs—to be of interest. Little did I know that fleeting encounter would spark an obsession.
Fast forward a few months to a Montana summer. I was visiting a ranch nestled at the foothills of the Pryor Mountains, spending my days climbing, hiking, and photographing the region’s abundant wildlife. One day, while driving with locals, we spotted a mare and colt, then another pair. Assuming they were ranch horses, we moved on—until we crested a hill. There, bathed in sunlight, sprawled a wild Mustang herd, 150 strong. Foals danced across the valley while stallions stood guard. My excitement and memories of the Arizona herd came flooding back. Wild horses had kind of become “my thing.”
The Pryor Mountains are one of the best places to see Mustangs. Uniquely detached from other mountain ranges, they are an isolated alpine oasis amid sprawling prairie. Located just seventy miles from Billings, Montana’s largest city, and a short drive from Yellowstone National Park—which drew 4.86 million visitors in 2023—the range is home to an array of wildlife. Elk, mule deer, pronghorn, black bears, and bighorn sheep thrive here, while Golden Eagles and Prairie Falcons often soar above. With its sacred significance to Indigenous peoples, stunning geology, and rich history, the Pryor Mountains never cease to surprise me.
But it’s the Mustangs that continually draw me. Seeing wild horses for the first time is, as many have told me, a life-changing experience. Their social bonds, from protective stallions to playful foals, are as complex as their distinctive coats. Each horse is unique, their markings as individual as fingerprints. Watching them interact in their wild home feels like stepping back into another world, one few get to witness.
The Mustangs of the Pryor Mountains are one of the last chances to see truly wild horses. Aside from the rare and endangered Przewalski’s horses in Mongolia, humans have driven wild equines to near extinction. Yet here, among alpine meadows and sweeping prairie, they endure year after year—a living connection to the past and a reminder of the wildness we’re in danger of losing.
The Pryor Mountain herd is just a small fraction of the 73,000 wild Mustangs scattered across the U.S., a population that has been steadily shrinking. Most roam Nevada’s deserts, while smaller herds can be found as far as the prairies of central Florida and the beaches of North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Mustangs trace their lineage to Spanish horses brought to North America in the 1500s, embodying the spirit of a wilder, freer America.
That first unexpected encounter with Mustangs sparked a passion I never saw coming. Now, introducing people to this world has become one of my greatest joys. The Pryors are more than just a stunning backdrop—they’re a place where history, nature, and wildness converge in ways few places can match. Seeing it through someone else’s eyes for the first time reminds me of just how special this place is.
If there’s one thing the Mustangs have taught me, it’s that there’s still a lot of wildness worth exploring—and protecting—in this world. And sometimes, you don’t have to go looking for it; it finds you.