The Story of Beatty’s Burros
The Beatty burros wandered into local legend the same way a lot of Old West stories begin — with the mines. In the early 1900s, prospectors brought sturdy little burros into the Bullfrog Mining District to haul ore, water, and supplies between rough camps like Rhyolite and the brand-new town of Beatty. They were the dependable “pickup trucks” of the desert long before there were roads and gas stations.
When the mining boom started to fade and people packed up to chase the next strike, not all the animals went with them. Some burros slipped their ropes, others were turned loose because they were too costly to keep. Those strays formed the first free-roaming herds, drifting toward Beatty’s precious water sources, shade trees, and green patches along the Amargosa River.
Over time, the burros stopped being just leftover mining stock and became part of Beatty’s personality. Locals told stories about them showing up in unexpected places, blocking traffic, or stubbornly refusing to move. For a while, the town even leaned into the fun with burro races and camp-style events that celebrated both the animals and Beatty’s rowdy mining-camp roots.
Today, the herds around Beatty are part of the wider Bullfrog-area burro population, managed on the surrounding public lands. But the burros don’t exactly read boundary signs — they still wander in and out of town, pause along Highway 95, and photobomb visitor snapshots on a regular basis. They’re both a reminder of the past and a very real part of daily life.
Whether folks see them as a charming symbol or a sometimes-stubborn nuisance, the Beatty burros are here to stay. They are living links to the early 1900s, when this quiet desert town was a booming gold camp, and they help keep Beatty’s Old West story walking right down the main street.
