If you’ve ever been to Big Bear Lake and thought you saw a donkey casually strolling down the street, you weren’t imagining things. No, it’s not a reveler who’s had one too many margaritas at the local dive bar—those hoofed creatures are the legendary wild burros of Big Bear, and they have a history as wild and unpredictable as the donkeys themselves. But when it comes to the burros in Big Bear Lake there is a lot more to the story then just a few mangy donkeys wandering around town in a snowstorm. These donkeys are the last living part of Big Bear Lake’s gold rush history.
The Rise of the burros in Big Bear Lake : The Wild West to the Wildest Weekends
Long before Big Bear Lake became a hotspot for snowboarding enthusiasts and Instagram influencers posing with scenic snowdrifts, the area was home to an even wilder breed—the wild burros. These little misfits of the animal kingdom didn’t exactly ride into town on horseback; rather, they trudged in via the early mining days, when gold rush fever was more contagious than Covid! Burros in Big Bear Lake were the unsung heroes of the California gold rush, hauling mining equipment, ore, and, let’s be honest, probably a few too many bottles of local moonshine.
Fast forward to Old Miners Days, an annual event for many years in Big Bear where the town embraced its rowdy, adventurous past. Here, the wild burros were still the stars of the show. And we’re not talking about a few burros in the background while the mayor wears a funny costume. No, we’re talking donkey races. And this is not the kind of county fair mule racing you may have seen at the Alameda County Fair. In the Old Miner’s Day’s donkey race, the participants had to travel to H
olcomb Valley, where the gold rush originally began back in 1848. They then had to find a wild burro, and transplant that burro somehow to the starting line on Highway 18 below Cushionberry Summit. Then these wily gold miner reenactors had to put a pack somehow on this wild animal, and basically lead this donkey on a 10K race to the heart of Big Bear Lake. These prospectors were truly horse or at least ass, whisperers.
Alas, for the scenic little town of Big Bear Lake, the Old Miner’s Days burro race was outlawed in the 90s as animal rights activists were beginning to make a big noise throughout California. This meant the burros did live in peace amongst the pines of the east side of the valley for many years but then they started procreating. Again. And again. and again. In the late 90s, a donkey round-up was planned and most of Big Bear’s wild burros were moved down off the mountain near Riverside near Reche Canyon. For many, many years the Big Bear wild burros were mostly a myth, only seen deep in the wilderness. But luckily for these jackasses, one male burro can impregnate forty Jennies (A female donkey) in a breeding season. Throw in the fact that Big Bear Lake has very few mountain lions, the burros nemesis and by the time the pandemic rolled around, Big Bear Lake had almost as many jackasses as they had cases of Covid! (And no, I don’t mean the tourists ren
ting out all the Airbnbs around town)
The Resurgence: Wild Donkeys on the Rise (No, Seriously)
As it turns out, Big Bear’s burros have been staging a bit of a comeback in recent years. After decades of being a quirky side note in the town’s history, these lovable (albeit stubborn) creatures are now trotting proudly into the limelight. In 2025, it’s estimated that around 150-200 wild burros roam freely in the forests and boulevards of Big Bear Lake. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact figure because, much like your brother at Thanksgiving, donkeys are constantly showing up where they’re not invited. It’s like they held a meeting, decided it was time to reclaim their mountain top, and now they’re living their best lives, and, if you ask any local, probably causing traffic jams on a semi-regular basis.
And let’s face it, it’s not like anyone’s complaining about the donkey renaissance. They’re adorable. But they’re also wild animals. Here’s where things get tricky.
If you’ve ever dreamed o
f taking a peaceful hike through the serene woods of Big Bear Lake, California, you might want to reconsider—unless you’re okay with the idea of definitely maybe stepping in donkey shit. Yes, you read that right. There are WAY too many wild donkeys roaming around, and frankly, the situation has become a hilarious yet slightly concerning phenomenon.
What did I do on my day off today? Well, I went on a snowshoe trek through a winter wonderland. Then I had a neighborhood meeting with the other Fairway Boulevard neighbors to come up with the name for our resident baby donkeys. As an equine lover, you have no idea how much restraint it takes to not pet fluffy baby donkey ears every morning as I walk past the two weanling donkeys who have taken up residence on our street corner.
Please keep Big Bear wild
Bobbi Jean, our resident 4H Queen was very insistent that perhaps she should sex them and decide if they actually are both females. But I did remind her that really they are wild animals and there is a no-touching rule.
We decided that, in the best interests of the neighborhood, the donkeys should really be given a name that homages our founding fathers, Barbara and Richard. They built their house on the corner in the ’70s when our neighborhood was just a forest full of Jeffry pines and Juniper trees. They were the first ones to build their house in our neighborhood in the early ’70s. And even though health issues, they are both in their 90s, forced them to move from their home, Big Bear Lake, a few years back they had a big-time passion for NASCAR. So obviously one of the donkeys needs to be named Dale.
We’re honestly not sure what the donkeys identify as so we were trying to find unisex names and maybe naming one of them Bobby (After Bobby Allison) would just make the neighborhood way more confusing than it already is. So we decided to name the p
retty donkey Tulsi (As this is a very conservative neighborhood.)
While on holiday here in Big Bear Lake this week, you might find baby Tulsi casually strolling through the parking lot of your favorite mountain café, investigating your car as if she’s the local HOA inspecting your yard for rogue weeds. She’ll stand there, blink at you slowly, and give you the impression that you are the intruder on her turf. Heaven forbid you attempt to leave the parking lot; she will block your car with the kind of passive-aggressive stare only a donkey can pull off.
The Wild Burros’ Biggest Predator: Not the Mountain Lion—It’s the Big Mac
You might think that the wild burros’ biggest threat is the occasional mountain lion lurking in the distance, hoping for a midnight snack. While that’s true in a “nature is harsh” kind of way, the real danger to these burros isn’t claws and teeth—it’s humans. Yep. Us.
You see, there’s this little problem in Big Bear Lake: tourists. Specifically, tourists who think
it’s a good idea to feed the wild donkeys Big Macs, fajita mix, or other assorted fast food. Now, I get it, who can resist the call of an adorable, wild donkey with a curious glint in its eye and its ears perked up in hopeful anticipation? But feeding these creatures isn’t cute. It’s dangerous.
When wild burros are fed by humans, they become unafraid of people. In fact, they start approaching cars, looking for a handout like a street performer on a bad day. And let’s be real here—when they’re wandering onto highways, there’s a risk of accidents. Not only is that bad for the donkeys, but it’s also hazardous for drivers and pedestrians alike. And while we’re at it, can we please stop feeding them our leftover fajitas? They’re not prepared for your gourmet cuisine, no matter how impressive your grill skills are.
The Real Problem: The Wacky Liberal Neighbors
Now, some folks (and by “folks,” I mean certain “wacky liberal neighbors”) have been known to love the idea of feeding the burros, because, in their minds, it’s a peaceful act of unity between species. (I get it, your heart is in the right place, but let’s remember that “don’t feed the animals” signs exist for a reason.) But this misguided act of kindness is doing more harm than goo
d.
By making these burros less fearful of humans, we’ve created a dangerous situation where they think humans = food. And you know who gets the worst of that? Our little wild burros, who, tragically, get hit by cars on the highway every week. They’re just trying to get their daily munchies, but instead, they’re winding up as roadkill.
The Wild Burros’ Unlikely Renaissance
But here’s the good news—there’s a resurgence in the Big Bear burro population, and it’s not all bad! The community has started to rally behind these amazing animals, ensuring their safety while also maintaining a healthy level of respect for their wild nature. Local organizations are working tirelessly to educate visitors about the importance of observing—not feeding—these fantastic creatures. So if you’re visiting Big Bear Lake and you spot
a donkey chilling in a local park or casually strolling by the post office, just give a friendly wave.
And if you feel like you must interact, just do what any self-respecting human would do—take a selfie from a safe distance. After all, the last thing we need is another donkey in the ICU for an unfortunate Big Mac encounter.
Where to Spot the Donkeys
If you’re planning a visit to Big Bear, there are several prime donkey viewing locations:
1. The Hiking Trails: Forget beautiful nature views and mountain vistas. These donkeys are all about the spotlight. You’ll be hiking along the trail, enjoying a peaceful moment with nature, and then BAM, a donkey shows up in the middle of the path like it’s auditioning for a reality TV show. It’s not lost; it’s just doing its thing. In the winter months, the donkeys are all over the east end of the valley. You can find them on nearly any hiking trail. 
2. The Local Starbucks: The donkeys aren’t picky about where they hang out. You could be sipping on a pumpkin spice latte, scrolling through Instagram, and suddenly look up to see a donkey grazing on the shrubs right outside the window. The real kicker is that they don’t even care that you’re watching. They’re too busy judging you for ordering oat milk.
3. Bear Mountain Ski Resort. No seriously, wild burros were spotted at the top of the resort earlier in the winter. Snowboards not included.
Still not sure where to find the burros in Big Bear Lake? Book a hiking tour with a local hiking guide to view Big Bear Lake’s burros!
How to Coexist with Donkeys (Or Not)
If you’re considering visiting Big Bear, here’s a pro tip: Don’t mess with the donkeys.
They’ve got a whole set of rules, and you’re the outsider here. Here’s what you should know:
- Don’t feed them: They’re not your pets.
- Don’t try to ride them: The donkeys of Big Bear are not your personal Uber. They will give you that look, the one that says, “You’ve got some nerve.” Proceed at your own risk.
- Don’t underestimate their sass: Donkeys are tough, sassy creatures. They will stand their ground. They will block your path. And they will silently judge you for even thinking about asking for a selfie.
Respect the Donkeys, People
So, the next time you find yourself in Big Bear, do us all a favor: admire the wild burros from afar, snap a picture, but don’t approach them like they’re the cast of The Office. These animals have a rich, quirky history, and we want to make sure they’re here for future generations to enjoy.
Big Bear Lake wild burros are more than just four-legged Instagram stars—they’re part of our history. Let’s keep it that way.
