I’ve heard the saying, “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” A few weeks ago, I heard an old song that proclaimed that the secret to life was, “faster horses, younger women, and more money.” This week I had several encounters with the wild horses of the Ozark Scenic Riverways.

As we were arriving at Echo Bluff campground, the herd appeared on the roadway in front of us. There were about ten beautiful horses and a few colts. They took up most of the road as they made their leisurely way down the winding road toward the campground. We followed slowly in the RV, pleased to catch a glimpse of the elusive creatures. About halfway down the hill, a large and noisy truck approached from the opposite direction and in a moment they were gone. The lead stallion quickly lead the herd into the woods.

The next afternoon, we decided to head into Eminence for food. As we were leaving the park, the horses were standing in a sunken meadow grazing. Partially hidden, they were enjoying the afternoon in a shady spot next to a cool, spring fed stream with sweet grass. They were living their best life. I was grateful to catch yet another glimpse, because a single sighting is rare.

The following morning, I woke up early and went out to build my fire for coffee. Usually, I have early mornings to myself and my campfire, but there seemed to be an unusual amount of people up and about. After I got the fire blazing, I decided to walk to the bath house. All the people walking by had congregated in front of the bathhouse where the herd was grazing. A silver horse was eating the grass outside the nearest campsite. A half dozen white horses were down the hill with the foals. A large black stallion was standing guard in the road. And all the while, campers were standing in wonder at this unusual encounter with wild horses. People were whispering in excitement.

After watching the horses for a long while, I finally returned to camp. In the misty morning, the encounter seemed surreal. I filled my cup with heavenly coffee fresh off the fire and began to hum the tune to “faster horses” when I heard hooves pounding on the ground. Stampede. The horses came running through my campsite and on down the road between trailers. I sat stunned with a smile on my face.

The following morning, I got up early to make coffee (did I mention I make campfire coffee every day I am near a fire pit?). It was very foggy and misty. I heard a whinny, then a snort. I heard a stomp and a neigh. The horses were close. I sat down and slowly started looking around. They were standing on the other side of our RV by our truck. They were roaming around the area between our campsite and that of my sister/brother in law’s camper. The horses were talking to each other…. or maybe to me. A snort, a whinny, a neigh. I closed my eyes and just listened, wondering what they were saying. I whinny, a stomp, a snort. Endless munching of grass. Finally a scream and a stomp from the lead stallion came. The other horses fell silent. The black tossed his head and they began to walk down the hill. He stopped and they resumed grazing at the next nearest neighbor’s camper. After several minutes, the black screamed again and they began to run back into the forest.

That was the last I saw of the horses. The next morning, I could hear them far off in the valley. I knew their calls. The sounds of a herd of horses echoed through the hills. Sounds by no horses. We saw several piles of manure throughout the week to let us know they were around. Remnants of the herd on the move. Like ghosts of the forest, they were near but never sighted. A whisper on the wind. A memory to savor, beautiful and majestic.

Apparently, wild horses can keep me away. They kept me from making coffee, visiting the bathhouse, and from doing the work I had brought with me. I was too interested in watching them. They seemed docile from afar, but the lead horses were on guard and protective of the herd. No one was getting too close unless they wanted you to. Wild horses can keep you away. And upon further reflection, I think the country song was also wrong. The secret to life is not faster horses. It is watching wilder horses along a river. And of course it is never younger women. Older, wiser, outdoor sitting, campfire making, cast iron cooking women are obviously preferable. However, more money could fund more adventures with wild horses. So my song is now, “wilder horses, older and wiser women, and enough money to have adventures.”