update

Originally posted Tuesday 3/26/13:

back at miles home 3 days for mule rx. all ok.

Updating the update now, with photos:

Ended up being 7 days! On advise of Dr. Debbie of MissLou clinic in Vidalia - remember Dr. Debbie, who was so phenomenally helpful back then? Tuesday morning discovered Walter had developed hot swollen sore spots where his neoprene cinch rubbed (called "cinch galls" or "girth galls"). Another day riding would not only be painful for him, but risked creating open sores which could take months to heal.

Several frantic phone calls later, the Miles' generously and with great compassion offered to put up me and Walter for "as long as necessary." Sea had her schedule to keep and had to leave. I had prayed for a simple and clear solution to the dilemma of how, when and where Sea and I would part ways. As so often happens when prayers are so swiftly answered, never in a million years would I have foreseen the decision being made for us in this way. It was a shock but I think in hindsight, has turned out to be for the best for us both.

A friend of the Miles's, Rodney Brown, came to pick us up in his trailer (and later in the week brought hay!). At the Miles', I was once again ensconced in the man cave, complete with bedroom, kitchen, full bath and office. I stayed over Easter weekend. In Yaqui tradition, the Deer is most sacred and embodies many blessings, gift of resurrection among them. I felt safe and watched over at night, under the protection of the deer.

Terry and Patti helped me in more ways than I have time to describe right now... from making a tether, to putting up second, stronger electric fence after Walter busted out in a panic when wild pigs came in the night, to helping catch the escaped mule, to many delicious homecooked meals and coffee and and and... and to Patti's friend Kathy donating travel help, if she's reading this thank you again... most of all what I needed was quiet emotional support while doctoring Walter and adjusting to changed plans, and they understood and provided it unconditionally. Such good folks... what more can I say?

 

 

2 nites

On Sunday 24th rode on back roads from the Richardson's south of Rodney...

Through the campus of a local college...

...to a prearranged stop at the home of friends of the Richardson's. Camella and Bill hauled all of Walter's heavy packs and Finehorn's load in thier truck, making the 17 miles much easier on our animals.

The ride as so enjoyable, and Walter was so chipper and did so well, that Sea suggested we continue together as far as Oxford, about another 3 weeks.

We spent nite Sunday night in a luxury man cave at the home of game warden and wife
CSM Terry and Patti Miles. Mr. Miles put up an electric fence for the herd, and the next day drove by to check on us as we travelled the streets through the small but busy town of Port Gibson.

We had trouble finding a spot to stop once we got on Old Port Gibson Road. I was concerned about Walter because he was now carrying his full load, and we had only expected to go at most 7 miles, what I thought was his limit so early in his conditioning. Unfortunately if people weren't home they weren't home, if gates were locked they were locked, and we had to press on until we finally after much knocking roused a young man who offered to let us stay at his aunt's abandoned property next door.

Last nite we camped under an open barn with the herd in a huge green pasture of the empty
homestead. Hope the nephew didnt regret it, as his hounds bayed at us til the wee hours. Freezing night, 27 degrees. Quiet and peaceful this morning as I make us coffee. Sun out, frost melting.

Last day near Rodney

The wind is kicking up and waves of rain sweep the fields in bursts. The storm forecast for the past three days is finally moving in tonight. Tomorrow should dawn clear and much cooler as we ride out.

When I realized there was no way I could get boots for Walter in time to spare him another painful trek over gravel roads, I broke down and had him shod. Alan Lane - see the last post - once again did wonders on extremely short notice (hours!). He tailored the shoes to the type of riding we'll be doing with the understanding that they'll be needed for just a few weeks til boots arrive. And once again not only donated his services to the Ride, but didn't even charge for providing hours of excellent and entertaining storytelling of true adrenaline-laced adventures of cowboy life!

Seriously... a great farrier and enjoyed a great conversation about a disappearing culture among other things... again, thank you Sir!

The Richardsons have been wonderful hosts and in a final gesture of generosity, offered to deliver water to what would have been a dry forest camp tomorrow night, about 10-11 miles from here. That would have meant another 11 miles the next day to reach Port Gibson. Two long days with heavy packs for an out-of-condition mule.

We proposed an alternative - deliver all of Walter's packs (and some of Finehorn's) to a prearranged stop at a friend of theirs' place 15 miles from here. That way, Walter has a longer day but without having to carry and adjust to a lot of shifting dead weight he's not used to. The next day, with packs, is short at only 6 miles to Port Gibson.

Camella and Bill said that would be fine. What a relief! It won't be an easy day for Walter, but with the new shoes and light load I'm hoping he'll be up to it, gravel and all.

At Port Gibson we'll be looking for a place with a strong pen and preferably no other nearby equines to transition Walter to solo life. That's right, my dear friend Sea and I will be parting ways sooner rather than later. We have enjoyed each other's company, and it was a very difficult and bittersweet mutual decision. You can read about it on her blog, freerangerodeo.com . Step one of my ride will be finding a place to stay for 2 nights and one day, giving my mule time to grieve the loss of his herd and settle before setting out with only me for companionship.

In the meantime, we are enjoying our last night with the Richardsons...

sasafrass tea

Camella, little Lady and Bill

And by the way, after this post I might not even have phone service for a few days, and no computer for the foreseeable future (meaning short cell-phone posts and no photos, alas). Please bear with me, and please know your comments and support will mean more than ever as Walter and I head out alone. Thank you all as always.

from Natchez to Rodney

Monday, Sheriff Chuck showed us his herd, all rescue horses given a new life, and his amazing collection of vintage saddles, scabbards and guns used for reenactments. Then took us to a huge private estate where we met the world's friendliest, funniest camel and zebra vying for our pets and attention.

Tuesday we left. Deputy Wayne Rabb again came to the rescue, trailering us past the city congestion to the beginning of Hwy 553.

 

 

We were headed for a farrier about 8 miles on. Wayne couldn't recall the man's name but knew the directions to his place, and said he was so well-known and well-regarded that if the directions were wrong the neighbors would steer us there.

 

A few hours later we rode up the drive of a big ranch to a beautiful, stately 200-yr-old farmhouse, where a clearly surprised Mrs. Marie Lane welcomed us graciously in for tea while we awaited the arrival of her husband Al and son Alan, the farrier.
 

Alan Lane's reputation for excellent farriery turned out to be well-founded. After looking over Walter's feet, showing me the areas of white-line and giving detailed options on how to treat it and some prognoses, and the pros and cons of shoes vs boots (recommending boots for our type of trek), he donated his services and gave Walter a beautifully perfect mule trim. And a set of leather hobbles which Walter wore in the large open pasture that night. Thank you, Sir!!
 

The Lanes invited us to a delicious true Southern dinner including buttered beans and thier own ranch-raised beef, and though we had set up tents already, insisted we sleep inside. Well! How could we possibly resist an invite to spend the night in a 200-yr-old farm mansion where 3 presidents had slept (I didn't take notes, but I think it was Taft, Taylor and George Washington)? Maybe even the original bedsteads!

 

The next day we got off late after Ms. Marie drove me into Natchez for an errand. We said goodbye to a family that embodies the best of old Southern hospitality.

 

 



 The next day we set out on a small logging road to a pre-arranged stop at friends of the Lane's. A gravel road. Some of the worst footing for equines. It turned out to be a terrible ordeal for poor Walter. His feet were a bit tender anyway after just being trimmed, he's barefoot, and suddenly the white-line disease became a huge issue. The gravel packed into the gaps in his feet and ground into the tender part with each step. And with huge logging trucks occasionally roaring by at close quarters and the lack of a shoulder, I couldn't safely get off and lead him. So we inched along step by painful step. What would have been a short 2-1/2 hour ride took over 3 hours, into sunset. Walter's patient willingness only made it feel the more awful to be riding him.

We were so relieved to finally arrive at the home of our next hosts, Camella and Bill Richardson. They had generously agreed to put us up sight unseen. The herd was turned out into a half acre pen full of nice green grass with access to a covered barn for bad weather.

Which it looks like they will need. It's forecast bad storm with hail and possible tornados tonight through Sunday morning. So after literally going the extra mile by driving us on a reconnaisance tour of possible stops from the ghost town of Rodney all the way to Port Gibson, Camella and Bill offered to let us stay, not one more night, but until the storm passes - 3 nights! And that will give Walter's tender feet time to recover as well.

All we hear about in the media, how awful people are these days, don't you believe it. The world is full of angels.

off road

Still in Natchez. Weather delay but was false alarm, balmy now. Visit
last night with shantybellum owner Tommy Polk and his girlfreind
Elodie who came by to meet with and interview Sea. Pizza, beer, local
lore & laughs... good combo.

One herd, one dream

Sea and I have been having many discussions about just what is this thing the Free Range Rodeo, and how does my ride mesh with it, where do Walter mule and I fit in?

This morning something Sea said awakened me to the realisation that the Free Range Rodeo is a travelling herd with changing configurations, and in order for us to "mesh," I need to stop thinking in terms of "Sea's ride" and "my ride" and allow myself to become part of something that is bigger than those two separate ideas.

 Sea, Jesse James and Finehorn are the heart of the Rodeo - it's Sea's vision, her will that drives it, her organizational and computer skills that enable those that follow the ride to be a part of it, her dream that lifts it up; Mr. James and Finehorn are full partners since the beginning and have carried the Rodeo, literally, on their backs and in their big hearts.

That said, Sea has created a travelling troupe that embraces shifts and change. Gryph has been with the Rodeo since the start, during the rough early months, and joined up again for a couple months this winter. Fox, Gryph's friend, was along for a while, both riding and driving a truck with water support through the Mojave desert. And now here I am, joining the Free Range Rodeo for the spring trek north.

And so Walter and I are not on "our" ride yet - we are part of a herd, the "OUR ride" that is the Free Range Rodeo. Because I've only had Sir Walter for a week and we're still working on bonding, the tendency has been for Sea and I to interact each with our own animals, and do what we can to help them work smoothly together. This has kept us mentally separate; even the question we asked each other, "How can we join our visions together so it makes sense when we try to describe it?" showed that we were thinking of ourselves and our animals as two separate herds on two separate rides.

In fact, "my" ride will begin when Walter and I peel off on our own. Until then, mule and I are very happily a part of something else, learning the ropes from another Long Rider as we join her herd and take part in the ups and downs and magic and momentum of the Free Range Rodeo journey.

Sea and I also realized that to truly become one herd, we need to not only interact with, but ride each other's equines. We laughed when we both confessed to being afraid to ride the other's partner. I'm nervous on a horse - she's nervous on a mule! And Finehorn will be happier with loving and attention from both of us.

After this layover, we start on a portion of the route that is very, very rural, with no towns to speak of for several days, only occasional small homesteads and probably lots of camping. The sheriffs dept said they would put out a bulletin to all law enforcement along the way to keep an eye out for us and check on us when they can. It's an ideal time to bond the whole group as one herd.

In the meantime, here we are in Natchez over St Pat's Day weekend, during their busiest tourist weekend of the year. Sea is still out touring, I am feeling better and hoping to get out to wander the town before we leave. (While still fretting in the back of my mind about getting the farrier out to trim Walter...)  I'll try to start carrying a camera handy. (Half those pics of Walter were taken by Sea.) It might be a while before I have the luxury of this laptop again and can load photos. In the meantime will post by phone as I have access...

Oh! Also, please know I LOVE getting comments! But please forgive me and don't take it personally that I don't reply - it's impossible to post a reply comment from my phone, which is how I'm posting 90% of the time now. I do read them though, and the support of readers - even just knowing that there are readers - means a lot.

And to those of you visiting from Sea's blog or facebook page - thanks for checking out my blog as well! Hope you enjoy.

Into Mississippi

Crossed the mighty Mississippi into Natchez this afternoon. By trailer
courtesy of the good folks at the Natchez Sheriffs Dept, who did not
want us to ride across due to safety issues. Sheriff Chuck Mayfield, a horseman and avid animal protector (he owns 3 rescue horses) arranged for our
herd to stay in a beautiful pasture at the old stockyards. He and Wayne Rabb, a mule man (yay!) who hauled us in his stock trailer, offered to
check on the herd daily, and helped us with our route planning. And Sheriff Chuck even offered
me a daily deputy escort to the pasture to go treat Walter's foot!

Speaking of which... the equally wonderful folks at the MissLou vet
clinic went above and beyond to make us feel welcome and help us out,
starting with Dr. Debbie Guillory bringing us breakfast. Then showers, laundry,
and most generous of all, the good doctor donating her services to the
ride by treating a nasty cut Walter had on his right hind heel,
giving him a shot of penicillin and doing a brief vet check. Thank
you Dr. Debbie!!

Tonight we are esconsed in a sweet & crazy little house called the
"Shantybellum" a block from the river and downtown Natchez. We will
be here thru Monday with tickets to all sorts of tours and shows, all arranged by Ms. Courtney Taylor, head of PR at the sheriff's department.

Courtney even took us to Walmart and waited patiently with her daughter for about an hour while Sea and I bought much-needed food and supplies. She initially heard about us through Jen Ogden Combs who runs an internet news station, and took the initiative to contact Sheriff Chuck and Elodie Pritcharte (housing) on our behalf. Our heartfelt thanks!

the Shantybellum



I am especially grateful as I have come down with a monster head cold
and will probably spend most of the weekend curled up in bed sleeping
while Sea tours the town.
And on that note, g'nite all....

Vidalia

made it 12 miles on lots of narrow shoulders and portion of 4-lane hwy
to MissLou vet clinic, Vidalia LA. Herd were all real champs about it.
Staying here 2nite courtesy of Dr. Debbie Guillory. More about that in the next post.
Walter let me catch and halter him tonite knowing he'd get his feedbag next. Progress!

Wed. 3/13 frogmore/farriday LA

Herd tired but happy in decent turnout, hay and sweet feed provided by
our hosts interesting well-travelled older farmer couple, Ike and Georgia. We are in hayloft of big old wood barn, tired also after all day riding shoulder of busy Hwy 84. Can hear Trouble the mini-donkey braying at Walter over the fence every hour or so.

So many stars in the night sky here... feeling so fortunate to be
living a dream.



hayloft camp

tuesday?

Rode from a couple miles w of jonesville to a few e of it. goodbyes
to Fannins. Sheriff escort over long bridge. Walter did great. Camped
in a field behind a house, herd tethered. Walter had a bit of trouble
with it, is highlined now.

Day 6-7, March 9-10; pics of Walter!

Sir Walter the Red
(Barn name Red, calling name Walter)
14.2, 875 lb. 13 year old john mule

got his Coggins pulled Saturday morning. He also, to my horror, had to have a microchip implanted in his neck. It's mandatory in Louisiana. It hurts. Walter was remarkable good about it, only jumping and pulling back for a moment.

Back home, we turned him out with the herd, let him just be a mule for the day, and took lots of pics. Enjoy!

 

Day 5 - Friday, March 8 - mule!

Needless to say, by Friday things were looking grim. Sea and I were discussing options: her going on ahead with the hope we'd meet up later, me sending packs ahead and accompanying her on foot, packing both ponies and us both on foot (NOT), the utterly depressing prospect of my flying home (which I secretly had decided was not an option).

Friday late afternoon, Bonnie bangs on the door of the back bedroom where Sea and I are trying to be optimistic while we glumly stare at the silent phones.

"Katie, get out here, we've got a horse."

I jump up and run out the door pulling on my coat, leaping into the cab of Dale's truck as he sits with engine running. He puts his big hand on Sadie's curly head where she rests it next to him and stares straight ahead as he steers up the drive.

"Man got a young horse, says it's a bit poorly but he's put wieght on 'im and it might suit you."

"Where is this horse? How far?"

"'Bout a hundred miles."

It was my turn to stare straight ahead, stupefied. I was so stunned that this man would drive a hundred miles to show me a horse that might or might not work, Ididn't know what to say.

The horse turned out to be... um... unsuitable.

But I just happened to have, in my fanny pack/purse, the name and number of a man who said he had a mule in the same town, a few miles away. I hadn't followed up on it because the guy was a hundred miles away, he wanted more than I could afford, and a few other reasons.

We found him and went to see the mule. It was getting dark. Dale and I looked at eachother on the way and both voiced the opinion that this was my absolute last chance at a mule in Louisiana.

After about 15 minutes spent catching with a bucket of grain, the man brough out a good looking midsize dun john mule with big beautiful feet. I asked what he called him. After a slight hesitation while the owner thought this over, his face brightened, he playfully pulled the mule's ears and said "Flop! Because his ears flop when he walks."

 He saddled up and rode off down the road, "Flop" not so much as glancing at a big logging truck roaring by.

Dale looked at me. "How much you say you're short his price?" He pulled out his wallet.
"Buy that mule."

Thankfully, no loan was needed. I got on and rod and was well pleased. The man came down to my price. Before I even had a chance to say "Okay" Dale gruffly ordered, "Let's load up this mule!" and they had the back gate shut. The man asked if I wanted him to guarantee anything besides the Coggins results, I started making noises about my farrier looking at the feet, and (I swear) trying not to laugh and choke at the same time, Dale says "You don't want that farrier! Don't worry about the feet, they're fine - let's go!" And practically dragged me into the truck.

As he peeled out of there, Mr. Fannin says to me, "When you're stranded at the side of the road, you don't care if the vehicle come to get you is a Toyota or a Dodge truck. You just get in and go."

Also on the way back, Dale remarked that he was sure this mule was Walter, a mue belonged to someone he knew about 10 years ago. The age was right - 12-14 years old.

We unloaded Walter in the dark, into a small pen to catch him the next morning. I had left my notebook with all of my local contacts, including the name and number of the man I just bought walter from, on the ground at the pasture a hundred miles away.

No turning back. I had me a new mule!

Day 4 - Thursday, March 7

Thursday, we were supposed to be riding out. Instead, we found ourselves being treated as honorary members of the venerable Fannin family:

matriarch Ms Bonnie

patriarch Mr Dale

pretty Sadie

plus grown children Ray, Kim, and Jamie and grandkids Destiny, Jacob, Mackenzie and Zack.

The Fannins have spent a lifetime farming hundreds of acres all around Jena. "You name it, we've grown it." Cotton, corn, soy, etc... sometimes raising cattle as well... and all of them winning ropers or barrel racers besides. Thier home is a big old comfy ranch house with paintings by Bonnie's sister and photos of family all round. They went out of thier way to make us comfortable and help any way they could and search high and low for any available mule. (Which did NOT include Sandy, their sweet old molly!) By Thursday morning, I was looking at horses as well. Any animal that might work. I was even thinking, donkey and cart...

Thursday night I went to see Ray and Chris's son Jacob pitch in a baseball game. I love baseball, looked forward to seeing Jacob play, and Bonnie thought it would be a good way to get my mind off the upsetting events of the past 24 hours.

Yup, it was great to watch the kids play ball and joke and laugh with Ray and Chris and their friends. But the funniest part was, it turned out to be one long equine networking night! I swear Raygot every single parent in the stands on the phone calling anybody they could think of with an animal that might or might not be for sale. All not long I kept hearing snatches of cnversation: "mutter mutter MULE blah blah blah mutter mutter HORSE grumble grumble KNOWS SOMEONE mutter mutter..."

But alas, by that time pretty much everybody within 200 miles knew about my search, and the pool of possible mounts had been pretty much exhausted.

Day 3 - Wednesday, March 4

Sad, sad day.

Called a farrier recommended by a well known local horse trader we met along the road, to pull Ruth's front shoes, look at and trim all 4, reset the fronts and put shoes on her hind feet.

Sam Harris turned out to be a very knowledgeable and talented certified farrier. He pulled Ruth's shoes, stood up with a sigh and pushed back his hat.

"I hate to deliver bad news ma'am, but this mule won't make it another three days."

My concern about the look of the soles of her feet turned out to be well-founded. She had virtually no heels, the bars were squished together and constricted so much that the frog had withered to almost nothing on one foot and had died back to nothing on the other - a deep hole where her frog should be. Without shoes you could see how thin her hoof wall was and that she had no hoof wall - none! - on the toe of her left front. She was walking on tippy-toes and directly pressing on the tender inner "white line." In short, her feet were a mess.

The good news was that it was due simply to poor trimming, and reversible over six months to a year of very light use and monthly farrier care. The bad news was that I was stranded 1500 miles from Tucson with no way to provide that care. Because I was concerned about Ruth's feet when I bought her, I had asked for and gotten a guarantee on them from her seller. I phoned him.

Long story short, the next day he came and got her. I gave him the farrier's number. Ruth is the sweetest, most willing mule I've met. Ruth's previous - now again - owner told me his daughter cried when he sold her, and that he decided he'll never sell her again.

That night, another mule search was on. Things were looking desperate.

Did I mention the Fannins' response? "Stay here as long as you need to." And... Every member of this big-hearted family started phoning everybody they knew. And they know everyone around these parts!

Day 2 - Tuesday, March 5

 

Morning found us back on Hwy 84, optimistically heading towards the Lazy T hoping to make it by midafternoon. Traffic was light to moderate, there was a decent grassy shoulder, and weather was beautiful. Stop at T-Town corner station/store for crawfish pie (Yum!) was fun. Sea stayed out with the herd while I stepped in to order food. At the counter the young woman asked with a smile, "So how far y'all come yet today?" It was clear she knew who we were and what we were doing - what a surprise! I was a bit discombobulated (for you non-Westerners, that's "flustered").

By the time we got to the Lazy T Ruth was again starting to stumble. It had not been that long a day. I was a bit concerned. She wasn't lame at all, but felt "ouchy" to me. There were a few folks hanging out talking at the arena when we arrived but nobody seemed to know quite where was a good spot to put the herd up. The place appeared to have been in disuse lately and the only area with grass was full of discarded metal and such. No access to a water trough. We were scheduled to lay up there for the following day and night to give the herd a rest.

Finally a big man with a big heart called his folks just a mile up the road and they offered us thier place instead. Mrs. Bonnie and Mr. Dale Fannin greeted us with quietly gracious hospitality, offering us a back bedroom and telling us to make ourselves at home. We had no inkling of what a gift of grace the loving generosity of the entire Fannin clan was to be for the next week!

With the herd safely grazing in a huge grassy arena a quarter mile away, we took showers and each fell exhausted into sleep.

Day 1 - Monday, March 4

After a very full last day & evening - witnessing the work of our hosts from Wild Horse Ministries (they use a Natural Horsemanship join-up demo with unhandled horses as basis for a sermon) and having a great cajun dinner at home of the local newspaper publisher - packed up last night in prep to leave Monday.

Morning: daughter Lorena graciously followed me into Alexandria to drop off my parents' leased car at the dealership, and drove me back. Then to the vet to pull blood from Ruth mule for Coggins test/health certificate. The vet wasn't there - it was just the tech - so didn't get a vet check, have to have farrier look at her feet later. Back at the bunkhouse, arranged for Lorena to drop most of my packs off at our next stop to make it an easier 1st day's ride on Ruth.

Late start, almost 2 pm, but still time to arrive at the flower shop before nightfall. Supposed to be about a 7 mile ride. At the end, warm night predicted, a place for us to pitch our tents and tether the herd in a back yard.

Finally, heading out! Alas, neither of us took photos this first day. But the local paper did. Young Ruth mule was very brave. She followed Mr. James and Finehorn right through the heavily trafficked outskirts of Jena, blowing nervously and skittering a little but holding her own as the photographer snapped her lovely likeness while huge trucks lumbered past. We took a recommended shortcut to Hwy 84 and found ourselves on a road that seemed right but had no signage. Hours wore on and the sun got lower. Seven miles? We should have long since arrived. Ruth was stumbling and looking back at me, telling me in mule language that she was tired and could we please stop for the day. Sea was concerned about her ponies also, being a bit out of shape after such a long break. We decided to turn in at the next driveway and ask where we were and if there was someplace nearby to pitch our camp.

As we walked slowly up the long drive an entire family and 2 horses came tumbling out to greet us! The Willis's were full of cheerful excitement and hospitality. They told us the flower shop was only a half mile away but why not stay with them? They gestured around at the lush spare pasture and offered a place for the herd, hay, dinner and a roof for the night. What a wonderful relief! Shorty after, one set of grandparents arrived to make the welcome complete. After going to fetch our packs (and meeting the smiling owner of the flower shop) we settled in for an evening of good food and good conversation.

Next morning the other set of grandparents arrived and told us our next stop, the Lazy T arena, was only 8-9 miles. I was relieved as it turned out the maps were inaccurate and we really had ridden about 12 miles on Monday. I felt bad for Ruth, though she was trotting about and seemed none the worse for it. We arranged, again, to have packs delivered ahead to ease the load on our out-of-shape herd.

I'm here in Jena, Louisiana with Sea G Rhydr in a wonderful bunkhouse provided by the good folks at Wild Horse Ministries. Preacher Paul Daily found me a mule! Her owner was so sure I'd want her that he hauled his little molly 45 minutes from home for me to try her out. More about that in a minute.

It's a strange thing in this cyber-age to get to know someone through email and almost daily phone calls, and never have met face to face. Sea was just as I'd imagined her. I guess it was mutual. What a relief for both of us! And what a joy to meet a new friend in person.

Sea and Jesse James

We went through a whirlwind few days of mule searching, picking up mail, shopping for supplies, working out route and logistics, and a busy social calendar. Plus I went on a 4-hour trail ride with 16 other people through the beautiful woods here, trying out a young horse prospect (who promptly dumped me in protest at wearing a bit for the first time). I saw my first magnolia tree.

After going to see mules that weren't for sale, mules that couldn't be caught, kicking mules, unridable mules, and a sweet obese mule with bad feet, I was about ready to buy the young horse anyhow, when Preacher Paul summoned me during last night's roping practice to "go talk to that man over there about a mule."

He brought her this morning... had described a wonderful animal... and finally, it was true! Meet the new addition to the herd. "Ruth," for now:

Tomorrow morning is the vet check and Coggins, a test needed to get the health certificate to cross state lines.

Tomorrow afternoon we're on the road!