His spurs don’t match and the rowels are gone and his boots are busted but he’s living life on his own terms. Tomorrow, Sunday morning, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the man: Cowboy Dave.

Salvation came from a bar. I was one water container short heading in to the sage brush country of Wyoming with my mules Brick and Cracker. Dale at the Miner’s Grubstake and Bar in Atlantic City gave me an empty one gallon pickle jar. With a twig and some twine, I turned it in to a makeshift water container.

It’s working fine. Even if… Continue reading →

The cowboy stopped his truck and said, “you need to watch out. Make sure you don’t sleep with any food in your tent. You’re in grizz country now..”

In western Wyoming, “grizz” means grizzly bear.

An ammo belt was strapped around the back of his head rest. 3 rounds were tucked in to the leather loops. 3 rounds were missing.

I have zero bullets. That night I started hanging… Continue reading →

Is fall not cool enough for you yet? Here are some chill photos to cool you down a few degrees. They are from my camp along the Greys River (Wyoming) earlier this week.

The lady’s voice on my voicemail said (and I paraphrase):

“Hi Bernie. This is Debbie at the Central Wyoming Fairgrounds in Casper. We received a bag of dog food in your name. What would you like us to do with it?”

Fantastic! People are so generous out here. There’s only one problem with this well-intended gift.

I don’t own a dog.

To the mystery donor I… Continue reading →

Mules Brick and Cracker and I have crossed McDougal gap and arrived in Alpine, Wyoming. The timing is perfect for getting off the mountain. Rain and snow at higher elevations are forecast for the next 4 days.

Right now the mules and I are settling in to Alpine. We’re camped… Continue reading →

Cracker has learned 2 of the 3 Desert Mule Travel Rules.

• Drink when you find water
• Eat when you find food
• Don’t eat prickly pears

Cracker’s still working on Rule 3.

The wheels on his luggage cart where worn to the rim. “I made tires with Gorilla tape,” he said. “They got me here from Ogden, Utah.” Strapped to the cart were all his belongings.

I met Glyn walking up the sidewalk in Douglas, Wyoming. Why, I asked him, was he out rambling?

He says his life needed a change of direction. “I always wanted to leave my home town. It… Continue reading →

200 miles of sagebrush, pronghorn antelope and frost numbed fingers are behind us. The mules and I have completed the leg from Casper, Wyoming to Pinedale.