Shot the gap and steered the mules toward Globe through the green choking landscape that swallows house trailers before they rot. Saw a girl in a green dress feeding a goat. Asked if I could to take her photo and she said that was okay.
“Do you know the goat’s name?”, I asked.
“No”, is all she said.

In the good old days before refrigeration, ice cream and the device you’re reading this on, folks used to store their canned goods and root vegetables in root cellars. Around here in western North Carolina, folks call them tater tunnels, because that’s were potatoes were stored. I counted 5 on the roads that lead from Colletsville to Gragg. No doubt I passed many more that were hidden. Call it the tater tunnel day.

It’s 9p, Friday night. I’m in the cabin alone. This will be my last night in my bed for many months. In the morning, I will saddle Brick and Cracker, ride out the front gate and head west. I will ride Cracker. Brick will carry the supplies.

Here’s a few photos from the past few days of preparations.

Snip, snip, snip go the scissors. Chug, chug, chug goes the sewing machine. I’m down to final preps for my upcoming mule ramble. That means sewing up canvas covers for my water jugs. I’m feeling lonely tonight. Julia, my wife and the only person that ever rode a mule with me on one of my rambles, is not coming on my upcoming Mules West journey.

So you want to run away for a few months on a mule. What would you take?
Hell if I know. But Julia stepped in to the rescue. She hand wrote a list based on the items used on our last month and a half mule trip.

Here’s what Julia’s list looks… Continue reading →