In one of his best starts for a year, Bureau of Land Management Wildlife Biologist Abel Gueverra has already carefully stalked and darted about 45 mares in the McCullough Peaks Wild Horse Herd Management Area. Without fail, Gueverra has been accomplishing the arduous task of administering fertility-control drugs on foot in the 120,000-acre area for the past seven years in “the badlands” of the Big Horn Basin. But it wasn’t that long ago that he felt hunted himself.

“There would be times when I would be out here, and it almost felt like I was [being watched through] a scope,” he told a crowd of supporters Saturday during Friends of a Legend’s (FOAL) Picnic in the Peaks celebration. “But, you know, I have a job to do. I serve the public.”

Gueverra’s mood turned serious when asked about last March’s BLM roundup of wild horses, which resulted in emotions boiling over.

“I got a lot of death threats. My family was threatened. There were a lot of things that people would say that affected me personally,” he said, souring the happy, celebratory feeling of the event for a few moments.

How fans of the wild horse herd could turn against one of the greatest proponents of the 144 horses (unless a foal has been born since the most recent count) is somewhat of a mystery. Gueverra could have easily moved on. Yet, he’s not about to abandon the herd or the hardscrabble habitat.

“I care about these horses. I lose a lot of sleep worrying about these horses, especially now ...,” he said, as the herd is facing new dangers.

Due to the remote nature of the habitat, there have been several recent reports of visitors using drones for overhead photography. Unfortunately, the drones drive the horses and their foals into action. On hot days, like this past Saturday, it’s dangerous for the horses to be on the run while being frightened by unmanned aerial vehicles operated by tourists.

It can be particularly hard on the aging herd, with some of the mares’ ages reaching into the mid and high 20s.

“Right now, we don’t want them to run. It’s too hot,” Gueverra said. “They spend a lot of energy because they’re trying to run away. So if you see that, give me a call. Get a license plate. Let me know.”

Gueverra said he is pushing a possible regulation change to ban drones in the WHHMA “up the ladder.”

“I want you to enjoy your horses. They’re your horses, too. But I also want to make sure that we don’t disrupt their natural movements,” he said. “All these horses have a unique story since I’ve been around them. They all mean something to me. They’re all very special to me, and I’m also very protective of them.”

Gueverra’s dedication has comforted FOAL members, who joined forces 20 years ago this past April to preserve and protect the herd.

“One of the big issues we had with the BLM was that they weren’t getting the darting done. And we were not confident they were guarding the right horses all the time,” said FOAL Board President Hap Ridgway. “That seems to be happening now and we’re really happy to have Abel leading that effort.”

PZP treatments

Because there are few predators and dangers to the herd — allowing the horses to reach older age groups than in other wild horse herds across the West — one of Gueverra’s jobs is temporarily sterilizing mares, to keep the number of foals in line with nature mortality to ensure more captures and relocations to federal temporary storage corrals are needed as infrequently as possible.

Porcine Zona Pellucida, better known as PZP, is a fertility-control vaccine administered to female horses on the range via remote darting. With over three decades of proven use, PZP is recommended by the National Academy of Sciences for federally protected wild horse herds.

“It offers a humane alternative to roundups and removals, presenting the most promising strategy for managing wild horses in their natural habitat,” said the American Wild Horse Conservation. “America’s mustangs face unnatural conditions due to genetic manipulation and behavioral disruption from roundups and removals. Fences confine them to artificial habitats, inhibiting their natural migration. They compete with other land uses backed by powerful economic interests, making natural regulation impractical.”

Gueverra earned his position largely by accident. One day, he heard the former herd manager talking about needing some extra help out in the McCullough Peaks, because they were having people go off-road searching for the horses. Unfortunately, the visitors occasionally wanted to get too close to the beautiful mustangs, despite being required to stay 300 feet away.

“I just kind of said, well, my workload is kind of slowed down. I think I can help just come out here as a scout or be a presence, and next thing I know, I’m going to the PCP training and I’m out here darting horses,” he said.

Seven years later there are few who know as much about the herd as Gueverra.

“I’m a wildlife biologist, so I can read animals. But learning wild horse behavior was a whole different beast, and to this day, I still say that I’m learning,” he told the engaged group.

Herd expert

There are others who also dedicate their lives to the wild herd. Phyllis Preator, one of the top experts about the herd, moved to Cody from the “boonies” when she was 13 years old. Her father was a real cowboy, but her parents wanted more for their family so he left the ranch hand business and joined the Forest Service.

“It was horrible. I mean, there were so many people. I was confined to this little fenced yard, no horse, no dog, no rabbits, no pigs. I mean, it was like, ‘Oh my gosh. How do I live here?’” Preator said.

The teen got so depressed she wanted to quit school — that is, until her parents brought the family horses to Cody and she started riding in the Peaks. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a horse trailer at the time so they had to ride from town, through the Sage Creek Flats and to the Peaks.

“There was sagebrush and rattlesnakes. On occasion we saw coyotes. I mean, I was back in heaven,” she said.

Then she met BLM range/wild horse specialist Patricia Hatle, who knew Preator had a wealth of knowledge about the habitat and a love for the wild horses. Hatle told Preator she needed a concrete population estimate.

“I said, ‘Well, I don’t know how you’re going to get that.’ And she says, ‘Yeah, I do. You’re going to do it for me,’” Preator recalled.

The young woman saddled up her horse and headed to the Peaks alone.

“I had my horse, a dog, a gun in my saddlebag and the Heavenly Father above. I mean, how much more complete could your life be?,” she said.

In about 100 days Preator had finished her count. An aerial population estimate later confirmed her estimate as accurate. Since, Preator has been an unofficial guardian of the herd and now has a seat on the advisory board for FOAL.

“She is lovely,” said FOAL Executive Director Heather Green. “She is the gal that comes out here and spends so much of her time and energy learning about, observing, photographing, understanding behavior of everything to do with the McCullough Peaks horses.”

Preator agrees fertility control is a necessity for the herd, but she is also a big fan of allowing some foals to be born in the ecosystem.

“I believe that we should have a few babies every year. It wouldn’t be natural for them if they didn’t have some babies,” she said. “But we don’t need to have 500 to 1,000 horses out here. We have happy horses, so let’s keep them that way.”

Living Waters

Ridgway said the WHHMA received some important volunteer work from a group that used to be foes of the wild horses.

“For a long time, we didn’t get a lot of support from the folks with stock. They didn’t think it was going to work. When we brought it up first this last year, one of the folks — one of the permittees —  worked with the BLM, brought a bulldozer and restored five or six [reservoirs] up in the northwestern part of the part of the HMA,” Ridgway said. “So we’re getting some help from an unlikely partner in that work.”

For almost 15 years, FOAL has been raising funds to repair and maintain a series of reservoirs in the habitat to help take pressure off areas with limited water in the 120,000-acre high desert habitat. The reservoirs also help wildlife and grazing cattle in the Peaks. There are now 14 reservoirs available for the herds spanning the area.

Ridgway also announced that FOAL has renewed their Memorandum of Understanding with the BLM. It took about three years to get there, Ridgway said, but they finally got it done. And with it came some talks with the BLM folks about future cooperation.