Public Lands: A First Visit Led to Heartbreak and Motivation
In celebration of National #PublicLandsDay, we're sharing our staffers' most memorable wild horse experiences on public land. These are personal accounts meant to inspire you to explore public lands and learn more about free-roaming horses and burros.
Grace Kuhn | Communications Director
The first time I visited public lands or saw wild horses was, unfortunately, at a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) helicopter roundup in the Kamma Mountains in Nevada. The drive to the trap site took us about two hours into some of the wildest lands I had ever seen.
Coming from the East, where public lands are few, I had traveled to various National Parks in western states. While incredible, these parks were crowded with tourists. On this drive into public lands, I saw no one—just vast, open rangelands so quiet you could nearly hear your own heart beating. This was the pure, unadulterated wildness I had been seeking.
As the sun rose, I saw a lone mustang in the distance. It was an exhilarating sight—a real wild horse living free. The excitement was short-lived as I remembered where we were heading. The mustang had no idea what was about to happen.
The roundup we were documenting was in a wild horse complex covering 2.2 million acres of public land with five Herd Management Areas. The BLM's arbitrary number of mustangs the land could sustain was between 333 and 553. The low end, which was the agency's target removal goal, equated to one horse for every 6,600 acres. It's frustrating to read those numbers on a screen, but it's downright maddening when you're standing on those lands—your lands, your public lands.
I watched a black foal separated from his family, roped by a child on horseback who couldn't have been more than 12 years old. The foal flipped onto his back, protesting as much as his little body could. With my hand over my mouth, I watched contractors stampede herds of horses dangerously down a steep mountain with seemingly no regard for their safety. I thought, you could back off; they will still come down that mountain without you terrorizing them. A mare stayed with her exhausted foal, shielding him from the helicopter hovering above. It was heartbreaking, enraging, and seemed so unnecessary. There would be three more days of this.
After the trip, I felt depleted and emotional, but most of all, motivated. Witnessing wild animals losing the two things they value most—family and freedom—changed me.
I've been with the American Wild Horse Conservation (formerly American Wild Horse Campaign) for seven years this October. The motivation I felt that day has stuck with me. I've spent countless days on public lands, not just for work but in my personal time. I converted a van and traveled with my husband and dog, working full-time in landscapes flanked by red rocks and sagebrush. We renovated an airstream for more space, and I intend to take it back out onto these lands that now feel so comfortable and familiar.
No matter where you live, whether on the eastern shore or looking out onto a cornfield in the Midwest, the public lands and the wild horses and burros that live there are yours. Your tax dollars pay for their management because your tax dollars pay for the management of public lands. We all have a right to influence what happens to them, whether they are left free to roam or stampeded by helicopters. You have a voice and can truly create change if you raise it.
Thanks for standing with us. #PublicLandsDay
Grace Kuhn is the Communications Director for the American Wild Horse Conservation (formerly American Wild Horse Campaign). She attended Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia, with studies concentrated in Arts & Humanities. She has worked with AWHC since 2012 and is responsible for running awareness campaigns and bringing you the latest information surrounding wild horses and burros. In addition to her passion for the protection of these animals, she lends her time to other animal, environmental, and social justice issues. She currently resides in the Washington, D.C. area with her husband and rescued pit bull but travels as much as she can on America's public lands.