Pirate leads the mustangs to the hay line on a very frosty – 5-degree – morning in Disappointment Valley.

When I call the mustangs to hay from the truck, I sing, “Heyla, hey-laaaaaa, mesteños!” (or is that *hay*la?). They’ve learned that that’s the call to yumminess.

Our snow is melting into mud, but more is on the way. All moisture is welcome in Disappointment Valley!