Mules West
Sober and Seeking Mule
He leaned out his pickup window and said, “I’ve been sober 2 years now. I bought this pickup for $200 but I want a mule.”
But mule ownership had eluded him. He said, “the people in this town don’t want me to have a mule. I don’t know why.”
I told him I couldn’t understand either because I’d just slept in his town with my mules and it seemed to make everyone happy.
“You’ve got it lucky,” he said, “because… Continue reading
Shovel and Top Hat
The mules and I camp on a lot of people’s lawns. What to do about the manure? Out here in the Sand Hills of Nebraska, mule manure on a lawn is dispensed with a boot kick. Or, as I recently did, with an old shovel.
Hyannis at Last
Three weeks ago I arrived in Plattsmouth, Nebraska. I set my sights on Hyannis, 350 miles to the west. Yesterday Brick and Cracker and strode in to the town I was aiming for.
Hyannis is deep in the Sand Hills of Nebraska. The past week, I’ve been traveling… Continue reading
Anselmo Early Morning Start
Mornings, I try to be on the road with the mules by dawn. If I’m traveling a quiet highway, I’m often in the saddle half an hour before dawn.
This can be relaxing. Riding through the still night air, often the only thing that interrupts the clip clop… Continue reading
The Rub: Shoulda Taken a Day Off
I shouldn’t have saddled Brick the day I saw the bump on her back. But I did and she carried her pack saddle 20 miles that day. When I unsaddled her, I saw the newly balded spot on her back. Shame on me.
In an ideal world, I should have given Brick a few days vacation when I first saw the bump on her back. It had just… Continue reading
Greetings from Mountain Time
What used to be 10p is now 9p. We’ve fallen back an hour, like losing Daylight Savings Time. The mules and I have entered Mountain Time Zone.
Today (August 2) the mules get a well deserved day off – along with grain and a double dose of carrots. Tomorrow we head toward Whitman.
Junk Heap Mule Browse and the Fair Ground
Today a guy asked me, “why do you like mules?” I told him, “because they eat and drink less than a horse and they’re tougher.” What I really wish I could have shown him was Cracker teasing a grass snack from between some junk tires and batteries.
Aerial Burial
The yellow body on the bridge caught my eyes and I pulled the mules to a halt. A yellow warbler dead on the cement. I scooped it up in my gloved hand. I could do better.
Dying on a bridge is a lonely way to go. No rotting away gently in the grassy… Continue reading
Pig Walking with Landri
Landri Loos shows pigs. She lives outside Hazard, Nebraska. Recently she took me for a stroll with her show pig. Click the video player to learn why a girl would walk a Nebraska pig 15 minutes a day.
Landri’s dad Trent is a broadcaster and sixth generation rancher. Looks like Landri has the makings of Gen Seven.
Post Script
Big thanks to Landri for taking me for a walk with her pig. Additional thanks to her parents Trent and Kelli… Continue reading
Anselmo: The End of Farming
Mules Brick, Cracker and I have arrived in Anselmo and the end of farming in this part of central Nebraska.
By “the end of farming”, no, I don’t mean they’re canceling the Husker corn crop this year. Rather, the mules… Continue reading
