The mules and I are in Quincy, Illinois today preparing to cross the Mississippi River in the next day or two. I’m sorting photos. This photo I took a few weeks ago caught my eye. I thought you’d enjoy knowing how it came to be.
I was holding Cracker in a Tennessee pasture and looked up and there stood young Captain America. Dressed in a red and blue… Continue reading
With mules, there’s no going to NAPA for OEM (Original Equine Manufacturer) parts. The only things that fixes wear and tear on mules is time. After 62 days on the road, the mules and I need to catch our breathes a spell.
This week mules Brick, Cracker and I hit the 750 mile mark of our journey from… Continue reading
Good night from the banks of the Mississippi River. Well almost the banks of Big Muddy. Tonight mules Brick and Cracker and I are camped 10 miles East of Quincy, IL. Thanks Todd and Julie Curry for putting us up (and sending over those sloppy Joes with all the trimmings!)
From here, the plan is to cross Ol’ Man… Continue reading
I rode the mules over the hill and there she stood on the bridge holding a fishing rod. She and the star tattoos on her shoulders and a man and a boy drowning small worms on big hooks in a shallow creek.
I asked, “are you catching anything?”
She said, “he caught one” and pointed to her son.
Then she said, “I really want to catch… Continue reading
When the Missouri River floods, all that stands between Meredosia, Illinois and the river is a mound of dirt and a pile of prayers. That and the round-the-clock efforts of everyone from sand bag-filling inmates to town employees and community members.
This week I’m pondering all the Fireball whisky bottles the mules and I are encountering on Indiana’s roadsides.
Traveling America’s back roads by mule lets me absorb life at 3 miles per hour. How the bottom of a hill is cooler than the top. How… Continue reading
I was camped at Big Spring Cemetery wondering what the mules would eat for supper. It was going to be lentils and watercress from a nearby spring for me. For them it looked like it was going to just be grass. Grain is just too heavy to carry.
I strolled over to the spring and picked a mess of cress. When I got back… Continue reading
Yee ha! The mule and I have arrived in Illinois.
Illinois is the third state that claims Abraham Lincoln. He was born in Kentucky but didn’t live there long enough to get on too many road signs. He spent time in Indiana where he got a mention on the state line. But the Illinois Lincoln Marketing Board was smart enough to step up and just claim him. They branded… Continue reading
It seems odd that a guy traveling across the land with his mules would need to buy gas. Sorta seems to defeat the whole reason to travel with a vehicle that gets most of its fuel from grass.
But, about twice a month, I’ll ease in to a gas station. Tie my mules up next to the gas pump.… Continue reading
“What are you doing about the storms and tornadoes?”, folks ask me.
It’s been an active summer tornado season with twisters getting lots of press as they destroy homes and communities.
I tell them, “nothing”.
When the closest shelter is a telephone pole, your options are limited.