The icy fingers of winter are pulling away from the towering range known as the White Mountains that form the eastern rim of the Owens Valley.

Summer visitors to the Eastern High Sierra may notice this remote mountain range, but only a handful of visitors go there compared to the hordes that fish, hike, or simply relax in the more verdant Sierra Nevada Mountains to the west.

This is a remote corner of California, but the White Mountains offer visitors a look as some of the most unique features found on Earth.

In addition to the highest elevation road in California, the Whites are home to the oldest living things on the planet, a rare and unique species of trout, as well as wild mustangs that connect back to pioneer ranching more than a century ago.

The biggest draw to the lofty elevations of the White Mountains are the ancient Bristlecone Pines. These twisted, gnarled and weathered pines have been dated at nearly 5,000 years old.

As summer warms the mountain range and allows access, the Schulman Grove Visitor Center is open daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily. The center is scheduled to open June 26 for the season.

But it was not the Bristlecone Pines that drew me to the mountains this trip.

I was hoping that I might be able to see some of the wild horses that call this vast and open place home.

Access to the White Mountain Wilderness begins where Highway 168 turns east from U.S. 395 at the north end of Big Pine. The road climbs steeply to the east from the floor of Owens Valley, following an old wagon route to Cedar Flats where White Mountain Road turn off to the left. It’s 23 miles from Big Pine to the Schulman Grove Visitor Center at an elevation of 10,000 feet.

There is a campground on the road to the visitor center, but there are no services after you leave Big Pine. There is no water, but bottled water can be purchased at the visitor center.

Most visitors only go this far, but the road turns to dirt and continues to climb into the White Mountains. You can drive to a locked gate at an elevation of 12,000 feet, and beyond that is the White Mountain Research area where high elevation studies are done.

White Mountain Peak is the high point of the range, topping out at 14,246 feet, just a few hundred feet lower than Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the continental United States at 14,505. A weather station at the peak records some of the most brutal weather in the nation, with winds often over 100 mph and winter temperatures far below zero.

Along the road you will pass other groves of Bristlecone Pines, and with an off-road vehicle you can find small creeks where the rare and protected Paiute trout survive in this harsh environment.

On this trip the thunder clouds of summer were starting to blossom, and the distant booms of rolling thunder could be heard as we bumped slowly along looking for wild horses.

To protect these relics of history, more than 200,000 acres have been set aside as the White Mountain Wild Horse Territory, administered by the U.S. Forest Service.

Here the mustangs are free to run in a wilderness that has not changed since their ancestors arrived. Within this protected area, the herd of wild horses is managed for a population of 75, most being bays and chestnuts.

When and where these horses originated is unknown, but they are thought to date back to ranching in nearby Fish Lake Valley in Nevada in the 1870s.

I’ve made many trips to the White Mountains to photograph the Bristlecone Pines and their tortured forms created by harsh weather and challenging growing conditions. On each of these trips I look for horses but had only spotted two on an earlier visit.

This time luck was with me.

As lightning began to dance on a nearby peak, I spotted something dark in the distance. With binoculars I could see it was a horse and just a short distance away was another.

At over 11,000 feet, I wasn’t moving very fast, but that was probably good. With camera and telephoto, I approached slowly. It’s barren here, with no cover that would allow me to approach without being seen.

It probably didn’t matter. This beautiful animal with the white blaze on its forehead knew I was there.

I felt a connection with this wild creature. I recorded a few images with a spectacular backdrop of thunder clouds and the jagged Sierra Nevada range in the distance. Then I just sat down to contemplate this moment.

The other horse had wandered away, but this stallion continued to feed and respected my distance.

Big rain drops started to fall. It was time to leave, but I was filled with wonder at what I had been lucky enough to witness.

History lives in this remote place and it was very special to share a few moments with the ancestors of the old west.