Denali in the Storm

With adaptive grace, plenty of hay and a thick mustang coat, she wintered well.

She didn’t fuss.

She did, however, station herself, on a hill, thick oak brush guarding her rear. I’d follow her gaze over a couple of miles, over the neighbor’s hay meadow and up and over a steep hill, where a small band of Clydesdales wintered.

Whenever a storm threatened, she’d head to middle of the pasture and lower her head with a clump of bushes blocking the prevailing wind and snow, despite having a perfectly good run in shed.


Winter limited our rides to riding bareback around the property. The only way to get on in the deep snow with bulk winter clothes: a graceless heave and belly flop.

RBrashears 2016





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