Wild Burros

Crossing over into California just West of Parker AZ, the sign at the California border did warn that you had to be careful of wild burros on the road. I haven’t had to be so careful of them on the road as in my camp. “Warning, wild burros love carrots.”
I saw them at the crest of a hill and clucked my tongue a couple of times to see if perhaps they were used to being around humans enough that they’d just mosey over looking for food. Yup, fairly domesticated wild beasts.

I am fairly, vaguely responsible about giving wild/feral animals food, but decided that they could help me finish my once-frozen and now thawing limp carrots that I had for my hike. Straight vegatable matter, no other human food.
The most junior member of the group was either volunteered by some hidden pack language that I couldn’t pick up on, or he/she simply wanted to try to get in on the action before the leader decided to cut in. (Does a pack of Buro’s have a special designation, like a “murder” of crows? I don’t really know.) At first the pack leader stood and watched as the others cautiously approached. But, as soon as it was apparent I wasn’t there to dine on buro burger, the leader double timed it over to get the best food first.

They were very quiet and gentle towards me. Taking carrots from my hand carefully; I never felt I was about to lose a finger to those big munching teeth That’s very different from horses I’ve known, and from what I understand the burros in the nearby mining towns can be a bit more aggressive too. Well, the leader was trying to head-butt the other burros out of the way, but no quick actions were directed towards me. If you’ve ever tried to feed greedy, smelly horses, this would come as somewhat of a relief. (Having mucked out my share of stables, I have a thing about horses.) And, did I mention the lack of smell? Very surprising.
Poor junior was relegated to the back, but, I got his attention and threw a couple carrot bits at his feet, so he got nearly as many as the other burros.

Still Wild, or Feral, or whatever.

Even though they were gentle to me, it’s worth remembering that these burros are still wild/feral beasts. They spend their lives in the desert fighting the elements, and the urge to mug tourists, so they’re likely to react strongly to any surprises.
After I had finished my hike in the area (sans the limp carrot lunch) I headed back toward camp via a different route the one I had set out on, and wouldn’t you know it, I surprised the burros in a wash a little way from camp. This is when the leader proved he was the leader. At a fair distance away he charged out of the wash and stomped to let to get my attention. Then he, well… he hissed very loudly. I was expecting a bray, but the sound that he made was more like a large snake hissing.
I stopped, let him get a thorough look at me, and then talking in the same calm voice that I used when I was feeding the group earlier.
His ears instantly zeroed in on my voice like radar dishes, and he shook his head as if to say “oh, it’s you… idiot, don’t surprise me”. When his body language relaxed quite a bit I continued skirting around the group to my camp.

History

From what I understand, these burros are the descendants of animals used in the surrounding mines and were simply released when the mines closed. Having few if any large predators they’ve multiplied in the deserts around the Colorado River Indian Nation and are beginning to be a bit of a drain on BLM resources. If you think that you would like to adapt a burro go to the BLM adaption website