Travel by Mule
Independence Rock (Wyoming) and Musings on Letters and Humanity
A lady in too-tight pajamas is smearing peanut butter on white bread. Off in the distance, my mules are grazing. Travel has gotten easier in the past 200 years. The mules and I have arrived at Independence Rock, Wyoming.
Camper Fantasy Musings
I saw this camper and knew that if I took it home and fixed it up I could drive it back in time to when someone lived in that abandoned stucco house in Shawnee, Wyoming. Actually, I yearned to drive it farther back in time than that.
After I fixed it up, that camper would take me all the way back to when the days moved slowly and I wanted to chop out great big chunks… Continue reading
To Bivy Bag or Not to Bivy Bag
My brother Christian recently asked me in the Comment section, “sleeping question for you: when do you set up the bivy, as opposed to the big tent? Is weather a factor, time?”
Here are some answers bro.
The Bivy
A bivy (bivouac) bag is just a sack that keeps the… Continue reading
Casper, Wyoming Arrival – and Departure
Hello – and goodbye – from Casper, Wyoming.
The mules and I arrived in Casper Tuesday evening. We hope to set out toward Muddy Gap today.
Muddy Gap’s sort of a misnomer given that it’s smack in in the middle of Wyoming’s best dusty dry land. The good news is… Continue reading
Foggy Desert Start
A few mornings ago, the mules and I woke to a heavy fog. I saddled the damp mules and we headed in to the foggy desert landscape.
Sunday Wind Mill Shadow
7:35am: That seventh day has rolled back ’round again. Coffee pots from coast to coast are bubbling to life. Your brain’s still calm before the caffeine. I was going through my photos of the week and this one just seemed restful.
It’s a photo I took last week when I came across a wind mill when I really needed one. That story coming up this week.
I like this photo because it… Continue reading
The Beet Piler
“I’m tired of standing there by the beet piler watching the beets fall,” he said. “I want to be a truck driver.”
He wasn’t piling beets when I met him. He was mowing grass and his mower had overheated. While he waited for it to cool he told me about working sugar beets.
“The beet season starts mid-September and runs until the first frost. They grow the beets east of here, pick them then… Continue reading
Night at the White Wolf Saloon
I walk across deserts with mules. I drink beer in saloons. Last night I ended up sitting across from a bottled alien talking mules and Wyoming with Carl and Diane Strode. They own the White Wolf Saloon.
I don’t carry beer on saddle trips.… Continue reading
What Do You Want to Know?
Question: what do you want to read or see more about on my current mule voyage across America? I ask this because today it dawned on me that my journey from North Carolina to Hailey, Idaho is about 3/4 complete.
Yikes.
I Write for Me
I’ve always written the RiverEarth.com blog for my readers and me. I don’t get… Continue reading
Blow Your Whistle at my Mules
Maybe the mules and I have been alone too long. Maybe I’m childish. Who cares. Fist-pumping the Nebraska sky to get a coal train to blow its whistle at the mules and me amuses the hell out of me.
That ol’ train whistle sure makes me smile. I hope it does you, too.
Whistle Post Script
The whistle blowing caper happened in the Sand Hills of Nebraska. The mules and I have since traveled to eastern Wyoming.