It’s an odd relationship. Days, I live in fear of getting run down by a tractor trailer. Nights, I’ve slept under them, peaceful as can be. Here’s a few tips if you plan to bunk down under one. Tip Number One: mind the grease.

In the past, I’ve written bucolic posts about waking up in a hay field. Of how meadowlarks warble and the fresh grass smells like hope and I put on my top hat and eat oatmeal in… Continue reading →

Easter Sunday evening I was really starting to wonder where the mules and I would find a pasture for the night. Enter Allie and Yolanda. They were in the front yard visiting. I rode up. Problem solved. Allie’s dad, Gary Brewer, owned the pasture next door. We’d found a place to… Continue reading →

You keep your car from rolling away with your parking brake. But what about your mule? Most days, I spend 6 – 8 hours riding my mules West as I make my way across America. But how do I keep them from wandering away at night?

Happy Easter. The mules and I are waiting out a patch of wet weather at Ryan and Pam Crick’s in Mosheim, TN. Because I can’t give you a chocolate bunny, you’ll have to settle for a top hat full of eggs.

Did she break up in a hotel? Did she throw her old life back East out her car window as she stormed off West? Did someone rob her? Did US Air loose her bag? I’ll never know. All the mules and I found was her Samsonite suitcase and pink purse on the side of Highway 107.

Should… Continue reading →

It happened in Globe.
The man walked up to mule Brick who was tied to a poplar tree and said, “I thought she was loose.”

“She’s not,” I said, “but thanks for checking.”

The man looked tired.
Me: “What do you do for a living?”
Him: “I build chicken slats.”
Me: “What’s that?”
Him: “It’s what chickens lay eggs on and the chickens will always keep laying.”
Me: “Where’s your job?”
Him:… Continue reading →

Tonight the mules and I are the guest of Ryan Crick of Crick Enterprises in Greeneville, TN. Ryan fixes heavy diesel things – think tractor trailers and dump trucks.

A young mother stopped the mules and me this week and asked, “why do you travel with a top hat on your pack mule?”

She asked, “Is it in memory of someone? Is it like putting an empty pair of boots in an empty saddle when somebody dies?”
She was giving it way more symbolism than I did.
“No”, I said. “It’s the top hat I got married in.”
“Oh”, she… Continue reading →

Good Monday morning. It’s off to the races time – me, you and mules Brick and Cracker. If it makes you feel any better, this is what my commute looks like. Only today it’s raining and my mules don’t have heated seats and windshield wipers. Yuck. Today we’re riding from Limestone Cove toward Erwin. If you see us on… Continue reading →

“Lord, what do you do for food?”, folks ask when they meet me and the mules and I tell them we’re riding toward Idaho. My wife Julia sent me off with a bag of food: rice, coffee, pecans, ramen noodles and a few other staples. I’ve been eating rainbow trout, smoked potatoes and drinking strawberry wine. Okay, and a little rice.
How the hell does that work?

In horse and mule travel, it’s… Continue reading →