Mules Brick, Cracker and I have crossed the Mississippi River! No, not on a barge, ferry or flatboat. No, I didn’t ride them down Interstate 24 across the bridge that connects Quincy, Illinois to Missouri. No, I loaded them up on a trailer and hauled them across Big Muddy behind a red Ford pickup.
A wonderful photo essay in the June 13 issue of the Quincy Herald-Whig. It shows how mules Brick and Cracker and I are passing the time waiting… Continue reading
I got the space man’s view of the rodeo. There I was way high up in the air above my mule Cracker. There he was way down below me bucking his guts out. Then gravity took over and I re-entered the earth head first like a faulty Russian rocket. CRACK! Landed right on my skull….which was snugged up in my helmet.
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
Howdy. This is where I (Bernie Harberts) post about my travels by mule, boat and bike.
To join me for an authentic mule voyage, check out the Lost Sea Expedition, the Rocky Mountain PBS series about my 14 month mule voyage across America.
Stream the series on:
My wife Julia’s take on things at Considering Animals.com.
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