I crossed the Red Deer River onto Highway 40 and headed south. There are lots of clear cuts near there that the horses like to frequent so I was hopeful that I might find a few more in a more photogenic location.
All along the road were mounds of horse apples, signposts left by the horses to mark their passing, and hoof prints in the mud along the roadside. But after spinning my way up an ice-covered piece of steep road - this ice not so pretty - and passing the first couple of open areas, I still hadn’t seen any horses. I kept on rolling.
As I drove I kept noticing patches of ice. Some were on beaver ponds, lots of them were slabs of blue and brown where springs had seeped out and frozen over the winter. Plenty of places had ice cover that had formed as temperatures dropped and froze over the water accumulated from the meltdown of the week before.
No horses, though. The signs dwindled out as the forest closed in but when I turned to head east along Burnt Timber Creek, I started seeing the poop pyramids again and soon I found tracks along the road. None of them were fresh but hope rose.