Havasu Wildlife

Havasu Wildlife
from Mountain Lions to Wild Horses

by Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes

          When I first moved to Havasu with my family in 1968 I was a girl of thirteen, eager for the new adventure. Our family had always been animal watchers and enjoyed observing the antics of our three felines in the oak treed hills of Covina California - or the horses, who were stabled across the creek from our home.  When we moved to Havasu I discovered a new world of wild creatures. Just as we enjoyed our domestic pets, we discovered a new thrill in watching those untamed creatures from our new environment.

Glimpsing a Mountain Lion

         I can still recall our move to Havasu Palms, and the drive down the winding twelve mile dirt road, that would lead us to our new home.  It was then we encountered our first glimpse into this primitive landscape. We spied a mountain lion. I would see a mountain lion one other time, at the end of the airstrip at Havasu Palms.
         Almost thirty years later I spotted a couple of bobcat cubs along the same road, and sternly warned our two teenagers (who used to drive the road on their four wheelers), that should they ever encounter cubs along the road, get away from them quickly! There is a good bet where there are a couple of cubs, a protective mama is close by.

Wild Horses along Lake Havasu

         When we lived in Covina my mother especially loved watching our neighbor’s horses across the creek. Yet, even watching those beautiful animals can’t compare to the thrill I experienced when I first spied wild horses on the Arizona side of Topock Gorge.  On two different occasions I spotted the horses, both times there was a foal in the small herd.
         Being a typical horse crazy teen when we first moved to Havasu, I was amazed to discover the wild donkeys that inhabited our area. Although they weren’t horses, I often imagined the possibilities of making one saddle friendly.  For a time Havasu Palms had its own mascot, a donkey named Number 7, who begged for food by tapping his front hoofs on the porches of the trailers, and allowed himself to be shamefully spoiled by the locals. Although he was the most domesticated of the bunch, he was by no means alone.   While you rarely see wild donkeys on the Arizona side of the lake, they are a common site along the California side.
         During my husband’s first visit to Havasu Palms (he was not yet my husband,  for it was the week we would first meet), he made it over the rugged dirt road in a friend’s Porsche. The only bed that met him  was an army cot under the stars.  The next morning, as he slowly opened his eyes, he felt something warm on his face. As his eyes focused, he found himself staring into the face of a wild donkey, and before the realization registered, the animal brayed into his face, jolting him awake and searing the memory forever in his mind.
         In later years, my parents would have a small fenced lawn on the side of their home. The front of the home was along a cliff, overlooking Lake Havasu’s Whipple Bay, while the back of the yard was fenced with wrought iron.  It would appear that nothing could get into the yard, yet the cliff side of the property did not detour the wild donkeys, who would occasionally brave the steep entry in order to graze on the sweet grass. One morning I let our Australian Shepherd outside without looking first.  She soon discovered a baby donkey and its mama.  At first glance she thought it would be a swell idea to chase the little one, yet quickly changed her mind as she raced back into the house.  Had her tail not been cropped, it would have been tucked between her legs.

Bobcat on the Back Porch

         We learned that it was always wise to look outside before going onto the porch, which overlooked Whipple Bay.  While the donkeys might be relatively harmless, there were several times we were greeted by a rattlesnake, who was seeking the cool comfort of the concrete along the door, where a bit of the interior air conditioning managed to leak out. Once my mother walked out to the porch and came face to face with a full grown bobcat. Fortunately, most wild creatures (even rattlesnakes) are more than willing to make a hasty exit away from humans.
         In the early 1990’s, when we were home schooling our children, one of the tenants of Havasu Palms disturbed our studies to tell us about what he saw in his spotting scope.  It was a big horn sheep, on the Arizona side of Lake Havasu, precariously hovering along the edge of a rocky mountainside, as she gave birth.  Suddenly our day’s curriculum changed to natural science, and we went to watch the amazing event.
         The Arizona side of Lake Havasu has Big Horn Sheep, while the California side of the lake has donkeys, a left over from the early Spanish miners. I’ve had friends who've seen mule deer in Havasu, yet I’ve never seen one here.  My husband once came across a pair of wild boars, on the California side of the lake, at the same location as the Havasu Palms airstrip, where I once spotted a mountain lion.
         Coyotes are seen on both sides of the lake. My mother once befriended a female coyote, who’d been kicked out of the pack.  Mom named her Babe, and the lone coyote would often sun nearby our trailer, and would take walks alongside my parents, (at a somewhat discrete distance).  Other than Babe, I would not make it a practice to feed or encourage coyotes.  I’ve known people who’ve witnessed their beloved pets being snatched away by a coyote.
         As much as I enjoy watching wild animals, it is always wise to remember they are wild, no matter how tame you might imagine they might be.
         Mallards ducks are also common on Havasu. Once we had a pair of mallards fly into our backyard, and make themselves at home on our swimming pool.  Just as it is not wise to feed the coyotes, it is not terrific to encourage ducks to make your pool into their swimming hole, for it can get very messy!
        Some years ago the mallards at Havasu Palms found themselves losing a member of the flock each day.  It seems, a bobcat had taken a liking to the local flavor, and wandered down to the beach each morning to have his breakfast. It lasted about a week, sometimes he would come for morning duck, sometimes for an evening snack.  Several of the tenants witnessed the feline hunter, yet after a week he moved elsewhere.

The Pilfering Beaver

           As bold as that bobcat was, my favorite story is that of a beaver who became something of a park menace.  Havasu Palms was named for the numerous palm trees in the park. (Of course, one might argue, what came first, the palm trees or the name?) Along one stretch of shoreline there was a lush growth of baby palms.  Our beaver found the tender plants especially delectable, and would munch away at the center of them, tasting just enough to destroy the plant.  He then moved on to munching the wood porches of the various mobile homes, much to the chagrin of the tenants.  Yet, the boldest act of all, was when one neighbor was sawing down a dead tree, and stacking the limbs by his trailer.  To his amazement the beaver waddled onto the shore from the lake, and helped himself to one of the discarded limbs, while ignoring the surprised expression of the human, as the industrious beaver dragged the log off into the water. 
         There are so many wonderful memories, and I have just touched a fraction of them here.  Perhaps that is one reason I have always loved Havasu, it is still a wild place in many ways.  I love the possibility of coming across the wild big horn sheep near Steamboat Bay, or  across a herd of donkeys on the California side. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any wild horses, and I wonder if any remain. Today that area is known as the Sandbar, and boaters see it more as a place to gather and party.  Yet, I remember a quieter time, when it was far more exciting to travel up the gorge in order to site wild horses – rather than gather with a hundred of other boaters and guzzle far too much beer, and expose far too much skin. If the wild horses do remain, I hope I’m privileged enough to see them again.

For information on adopting a wild horse or burro