The Pack Trip from Hell... Sort Of (Day Three)

After the previous night's excitement, we woke up to a promising day. I fed Maxine her breakfast and then went to see how much damage she'd done to her leg the night before. Further inspection showed that she had a somewhat nasty rope burn, but was otherwise unscathed. I went to our pack and returned with the Neosporin and a tube of Banamine to sooth any pain.

Banamine -- Never leave home without it!

Maxine's breakfast and first-aid session was followed by our breakfast, which was followed by a discussion of the plans for the day.

Most of the group was planning to take a day hike to the top of the cliff that surrounded the far side of the lake. Ken had already hiked to the top of the cliff and back the day before. Since he had horse experience, I asked him what the trail looked like. I've been on cliff hikes before, so I know how skinny and treacherous those trails can be. I was not looking to set out on a Grand Canyon-style ride that day.

He said that the trail was very good. Mostly wide with a few sections of loose shale. He had noticed hoof scrapes on the rocks, so horses had been up there before. He also mentioned that there were three spots where a rider might feel more comfortable leading their horse instead of riding.

I knew I wanted to take Maxine for a ride, but I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to go. Being the only rider in the group, I knew I'd be out alone, so I had to consider a route that would be the safest for us. After a bit of thought on the matter, I decided to head off on a mile loop around Donna Lake. Like the first day, I'd never be too far away from camp and I had my whistle to call for help if needed. I tacked up, showed Mom where I was headed, said I'd be back by 12:30 p.m., and set off down the trail.

Maxine was eager to go, until we came to the fork that led to Donna Lake. When I turned her down the trail and she stopped in her tracks.

Personal observation: Here's the thing I've learned from my trainer about mules in the wilderness -- they have a strong self-preservation instinct that they inherited from their donkey side. That's what helps makes them such safe trail animals. The key as a rider is to trust their instinct. That doesn't mean you need to turn around and head home at the first sign of hesitation, but it's a good idea to assess the situation before you proceed.

After a look around, I urged Max forward. She politely obeyed and trod on -- for about 100 yards. Then, she stopped again. Hmm... that's interesting. I looked up the trail, but saw nothing. Of course, my senses are human. They're not nearly as attuned to the environment as Maxine's, who was now standing alert, looking into the brush. I took another look around and then glanced down at the trail. Oh my, that looks like a big kitty print.

Abort mission: turn around.

Now, I'm no sissy, but I was riding on my own, so I wasn't taking any chances. It's not worth forcing Max into a potentially dangerous situation for my benefit. I decided that this time I would listen to her instincts.

Undaunted, I backtracked and headed down the cliff trail that the rest of the group had taken. I figured I'd ride as far as I was comfortable and then safely turn around and return to camp. Besides, I'd told Mom that I'd be back by 12:30 p.m. and I didn't want to worry her by missing my deadline.

Maxine was cruising down the trail and we quickly passed everyone in our group. I waved to some campers who'd set up camp in a restoration spot (tsk, tsk, tsk) and continued up the trail.

Ken had been right. The trail was wide and easy. Though we were gaining a lot of elevation, it wasn't a steep climb. Maxine had no trouble as we ascended the trail. We passed the sections of shale that he had mentioned and were treated to gorgeous views of the lake basin below. We were soon following the edge of the cliff. Maxine clearly had respect for the edge, but she showed no signs of fear, so I rode confidently up the trail.

As we came around a switch back, I looked down the trail. Just ahead, the trail whittled down to about 2.5 feet wide. Two large, smooth rocks jutted out into the trail, sloping down to a section of solid ground about a foot wide, just before the edge of the cliff. "This," I thought, "must be one the sections Ken was talking about." To make matters worse, this section of trail was going downhill, so I knew Max would be less stable passing the rock than if it were uphill. Should I get off and lead, or take my chances?

Maxine helped me answer that question.

Just before the questionable spot, Max gave a hint of hesitation. I quietly halted her, dismounted, and lead her across the offending patch of trail as if that's what I'd been planning all along. As I said before, I'm no sissy, but I consider Max to be an equal partner in this relationship, so I was happy to trust her instincts. Plus, this gave her a chance to rest after a long climb.

We continued up the trail, side-by-side, for another 100 yards or so. We had reached our destination! I gave Max a big hug and thanked her for a job well done.

Max and I wandered toward the edge of the cliff (but not too close!) to see if we could spot Mom in the campsite below. It was so far down that all we could make out was her red shorts and tie-die shirt. "Hello!" we hollered from our perch. "I changed my mind! I may not be back by 12:30 p.m.!"

I waved my arms and thought she waved hers, too, but it was difficult to tell. We took in the views and then I returned to the saddle for the trip back down. I'm sure Mom had seen us, but I didn't want to dawdle, just in case she hadn't.

We soon came back to the skinny spot in the trail. This time, however, Max trudged on like a pro. She definitely had more power going uphill over that section. Good girl!

A few switch backs later, we met up with the rest of our group. We stopped for photos and a quick chat and then continued down the hill. Maxine was trucking! We reached the bottom and found Mom five minutes before our deadline!

After a drink from the lake and a nibble from the shoreline, I untacked Max and returned her to her clearing. I pulled up a chair and we sat in content silence, taking in the view of where we had been. There's a good chance we both dosed off a bit, too.

That evening, we went to bed pretty early -- about 9:30 p.m. Sleep was quick to come and I crossed my fingers that the day's ride was enough to keep Maxine quiet for the night. If only! At some point in the night, I was roused by nervous pawing.

I rolled over and asked Travis what time it was. I prayed that it was at least 5:00 a.m. so that I would have an excuse to start her breakfast to quiet her down. Travis checked his watch and replied, "It's 11:00 p.m."

WHAT!?! IT'S ONLY 11:00 P.M.!?! ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME!?!

Tired and groggy, I rolled out of the tent and walked to Maxine's clearing. The nearly full moon flooded the wilderness, so I could see without a flashlight. A strong wind had come up -- the haunting tree-top wind that brings monsters and ghouls from lands far away. I looked at Maxine. She was calm in my presence, but I could see fear in her eyes. "Momma, how could you leave me tied here, alone, as bait for a cougar or whatever creature might be lurking in the shadows?" My heart sank.

I turned to walk back to the tent. As soon as I passed the trees, Max started to fuss again. I knew what I had to do...

"Psst. Give me my sleeping bag," I said to Travis.

"What?"

"Give me my sleeping bag," I repeated. "She's scared and I can't leave her up there alone. She might tie herself up again. I'm going to sleep with her."

"Do you have to?"

"Yes, I do."

I quickly returned to Maxine's clearing -- sleeping bag in one hand, chair in the other. "This is nuts," I thought, as I placed the chair near her head, hopped in my sleeping bag, and settled in. Fortunately, my sleeping bag unzips from the bottom, so I was able to stick my feet out, in case I needed to get away in a hurry.

With the bag warmly over my head and flashlight in hand, I closed my eyes to get some sleep. Max stood quietly above me, making happy mule sounds.

I wish I could say that we fell asleep then and there, but that wasn't the case. Max was quiet but still very aware of her surroundings. Every so often, she'd freeze, staring into the woods behind us.

Now, the sensible part of my brain knew that there was nothing to be scared of. We weren't in bear country and it was highly unlikely that a cougar would attack a giant blue worm in the middle of the night. Still, I was surrounded by darkness and the unknown, so I wasn't quite so sure about my safety.

I drifted in and out of sleep for about an hour. Then, at about 12:30 p.m., Maxine locked on something in the distance. Something was walking toward us -- an animal that sounded to be about 120 to 150 pounds. I froze, cursing myself for bringing my flashlight but leaving my knife safely in the tent.

"Sit or stand?" I thought. "Sit or stand?"

Finally, it was too close for comfort. I leapt from my chair and shined my light into the forest. The animal gave out an eery cry, "Eeeugh!" It turned and headed further into the forest. It cried again, this time from a much greater distance. I stood frozen for a moment, then I looked around at Maxine. She dropped her head and began quietly licking and chewing. Content the creature was leaving, I returned to my chair and sunk lower in my sleeping bag.

Personal observation: I never did see what crossed our path that night, and no one else heard our visitor except Travis (so I'm not completely insane). The general consensus amongst the group the next day is that it was a deer that was headed to the lake for a midnight drink. Mom had seen a doe in the area twice, so it made sense. Travis and I later listened to some deer sounds online, and it's quite possible that it's what we heard. Deer or not, it was creepy as hell in the middle of the night!

I woke up again around 2:00 a.m. The wind had died down and the moon was about 20 minutes from dropping beyond the horizon. I knew it would be dark soon and I'd be much happier if I were safe in the tent. I'm not sure why I feel safer behind a millimeter of nylon, but it's true.

Maxine was sleeping soundly, so I tip-toed to the tent. I waited for her to stir as I unzipped the door, but she remained quiet. I happily snuggled up next to Travis, who hadn't gotten much sleep either. He was too busy worrying about me.

Exhausted, I was soon in dreamland.

Photo: Max and I cross one of the shale patches on the the return trip down the cliff trail.

The Pack Trip from Hell... Sort of. (Day Two)

After a less than restful night, I woke up to get Maxine's breakfast started. The week before I'd done a little research to see what kind of forage we'd have for Max during the trip. The general consensus was "little to none," so we packed in food our girl.

Each morning she received five pounds of hay pellets, plus her usual bag of grain and goodies. I know that horses can have trouble eating dry pellets, and I didn't want to take any changes out here in the middle of nowhere, so I wandered down to the lake to fill a bucket with water to soak the pellets. After a good soaking, Max eagerly dove in to her breakfast, contentedly munching as we prepared our own meal.

Soon, everyone started to stir and wander to the campfire. Plans for the day were discussed as we ate breakfast. The general consensus was that we should break camp and move another two to three miles up the trail to check out a campsite with superior views and lakefront footage. I was not so easily convinced, but we went along with the group.

It didn't take long before we were on the trail again. Maxine reluctantly left her coveted meadow and renewed her game of "I can walk faster than you!" While she was better than the day before (training works!), she was definitely perky after her good night's rest.

The uphill climb was getting the best of me, as it had the day before, and I'm not the best at keeping a smile on my face when I'm hot and cranky. As we trod up the trail, I became increasingly frustrated as Maxine's manners slowly declined. There was also another problem that most women will understand -- my hormones where hard at work. In other words, I wasn't exactly the picture of mental health as we walked up the trail. I did everything in my power to keep my composure and my patience.

After a couple of hours, we came to the first potential camp site. We arrived just in time to find everyone sitting about, eating lunch. No a bad idea, but there was one problem -- my lunch was at the bottom of Maxine's pack. We hadn't planned on eating on the trail because, as Dad so often puts it: "It's a really easy hike. We'll be there in no time." Therefore, we'd only packed water and our trail snacks in Travis's backpack. Thankfully, you can always count on Mom. She whipped out her next two day's lunches and passed them to us (in trade for two of our future lunches). Thanks, Mom!

Unfortunately, the lunch stop wasn't as relaxing for us as it was for everyone else. Max was obviously bored and decided that it was her duty to dig out and pull down the tree to which she was tied. Not wanting to bother the others or let Maxine get the best of the tree, I spent most of my lunch keeping her amused.

Personal observation: Hmm... It's funny how a mule who can get a perfect ten on a ground tie at a trail show can't stand still for 15 minutes on the trail! Nevertheless, no matter how much see needed schooling on the matter, I didn't feel like we were in the appropriate place to administer an effective lesson at that point.

Soon were back on the trail. The campsite where we'd stopped for lunch was hot and dusty, so everyone decided to trudge on. About 1/2 mile up the trail, we came to a fork that led to campsites in either direction. Our scouts went ahead to check things out. After much deliberation, we took off to the right.

As we came in to camp, I quickly realized that while this site was perfect for humans (secluded tent sites with grand views of the lake and cliffs above), it was not going to be the most attractive site for Maxine. Unlike the last location that came complete with a meadow, this site merely had a bare rocky spot where Max could be highlined. On top of that, there was no place to put our tent in view of Maxine. While we were only about 15 feet away, a line of trees somewhat blocked our view of her.

Still, I was glad to be off the trail, so we quickly unpacked and got Maxine settled. The pack girth had rubbed her sides a bit, so I decided not to ride that afternoon. I doctored her sores instead. Thank goodness for Neosporin! I should buy stock in the company.

After Max was comfortable, I doctored myself with a dose of Midol! Then I set up a chair near Maxine and we dosed in the sun while Travis set up camp. Yes, ladies. He is fabulous!

As the day wore on and Maxine recovered rested from the day's hike, I could tell that she was becoming increasingly annoyed by her forage-free location. After a while, she started a new game... how far can I stretch the highline! Plus, she was giving one of the trees quite a thrashing (even though it was wider in diameter than the legal limit), so I had to adjust things a bit to ensure that we'd leave as little damage as possible.

Another personal observation: As a longtime backpacker and Girl Scout, I know the importance of leave no trace camping. However, I quickly learned that the concept is easier said than done when equines are involved. Nevertheless, I did my best.

Of course, the most exciting part of the day didn't happen until much later.

Content with her dinner, Max was quiet all evening. Around 10:00 p.m., we checked her water, wandered to the tent, and crawled in to bed. At some point, I was stirred by the sounds of a bored mule. She was pawing the ground, dragging her steel shoes across the rocks -- scrape, scrape, scrape. Then she started rolling and pacing.

Ugh. She was really making a racket, so I decided to take a peek to be sure that she was okay. I put on my boots and walked through the trees. There she stood with her innocent "what did I do" look on her face. You gotta love her (thought I can't say I was feeling it at that moment). I made sure she was safe, told her to be quiet (which I know is utterly absurd because she doesn't speak English), and went back to bed.

Not long after I'd snuggled back into my sleeping bag, she started to fuss about. Then, she started to thrash about. "Dammit," I muttered as I scrambled for my boots and flew out of the tent. I may be a novice, but I know the difference between "impatient and bored" horse sounds and "uh-oh there's trouble" horse sounds. This was definitely the latter.

As I burst through the trees, Maxine froze and looked at me with that innocent look again. As I looked down, I realized what the fuss was about -- she'd stretched out her lead rope and wrapped it around her hind leg when she rolled. Silly mule. I quickly unwrapped the line and walked her around the clearing to see if she'd done any damage. Content that her leg was still firmly in place, I tied her back to the highline and dragged myself back to bed.

Fortunately, Maxine had once again humiliated herself into submission and stood quiet for the night. Travis and I, on the other hand, were so frustrated that we were just about ready to pack up and head back down the trail. We weren't sure we could take another night of her antics. I was also coming to the conclusion that highlines aren't my preferred method for tying Maxine for the night, so the thought of camping where she could be safely tied in the trailer was tempting.

Yet another personal observation: I will admit that much of my stress was brought on by the fact that the rest of the group was not made up of horse folks. Because I didn't want them to be annoyed by Maxine, I was super sensitive to her behavior. I've always gone out of my way to be courteous to those around me, even if I have to change my behavior. That's why I'm the one who rarely gets to canter a full circle in the warm up arena. Out of safety and courtesy, I just can't bring myself to cut people off for my benefit. When I do by accident, I just know they're going to hate me forever.

It took a while to calm my thoughts, but sleep finally caught up with us.

Photo: Always a sucker for attention, Maxine smiles for the camera as she waits patiently to be packed for the trail.

The Pack Trip from Hell... Sort of. (Day One)

Recently, I took my first pack trip with Maxine. It wasn't your typical pack trip, with strings of horses and mules meandering down the trail. This was really just a backpacking trip with Maxine in tow.

Just so you know, I have little prior horse-packing experience. For the last three years I have intently listened to various speakers and watched many demonstrations during the Horse Packing and Wilderness Skills Clinic in Klamath Falls, Oregon. I also went on a day-long pack trip with my trainer's barn a couple of years ago. That does not make me an expert, I know, so I treated this trip as a learning experience, nothing more.

Fortunately, I have Maxine, a mule who used to pack in the wilderness of Montana. This gave me confidence that while I might make mistakes along the way, we'd all come out happy and healthy. And that we did... mostly.

The first day started out great. We packed up the pickup and headed down to Creswell to hitch the trailer and load Maxine. My parents were along, and they were very helpful as I went through the motions of getting the trailer ready for transport. (I triple check EVERYTHING so that I know nothing is left undone.) Once Max was loaded, we were on the road.

The drive went well and we arrived at the Sky Lakes trail head around noon. Maxine was eager to stretch her legs, so I lead her over to a small meadow. True to form, she dropped to the ground and began to roll in the tall grass. As she stood up, and the lead rope shifted in my hands, and I felt a small prick in my finger. I looked down to see that lead rope, Maxine, and everything below my knees was covered in burrs. What fun! Fortunately, the shoes I had on were not those that I'd be wearing on the hike.

Slightly annoyed but undaunted, I dragged Max back to the trailer and began packing her for the first time ever. At the last clinic in Klamath Falls, I purchased an over the saddle pack specifically for this trip and I'd spent the previous weekend packing the bags on a saddle stand in my living room, so I'd be ready for the task. Unfortunately, Maxine wasn't so ready. She stood by the trailer, pawing and jigging about. She was simply too excited to stand for packing!

And so, out came the hobbles. I'd never put them on Maxine before, but knowing that (1) she'd been part of a pack string and (2) she quietly adapts to anything, I decided to cautiously give them a try. The first minute or so was somewhat amusing as she tried to foil the new contraption around here legs, but after a couple of stumbles she realized that the hobbles had won and stood calm and obedient as we finished packing her bags.

Aside: One of the friends in our group later said, "Those hobbles just look so demeaning and humiliating." To which I replied, "Yup. That's why they work so well!"

Then we were on our way! I was so excited to get on the trail. There were eight in our party: Me and Travis (my husband), Mom and Dad, Randy and Donna, Brian, and Ken (an long-time friend with horse packing experience). I was glad to have Ken on the trip because I knew he'd be able to step in and help if something out-of-the-ordinary were to happen.

As we started up the trail I slowly began to realize three potential issues: the trail was all uphill, we were hiking at over 5,000 feet elevation (I live at 500 feet), and Maxine really wanted to walk faster than this out-of-shape gal can hike in the given environment. Therefore, the first day turned into a bit of a battle of wills -- Maxine trying to overtake me while I try to keep her in her place on the trail.

I did my best to keep my patience as Maxine challenged me to no end. You see, the problem with Max is not that she's a bad mule -- she's a smart mule. Too smart. In other words, she quickly figures out what you want her to do and then devises ways to circumvent what's expected of her without being "bad." She's like the kid in class who's always bending the rules without ever breaking them.

Still, I forged on and kept my wits about me. Though I'm sure my mother got tired of hearing, "Wup, wup" every ten seconds. That's Maxine's "slow down, please" cue. (followed by a whip tap when not obeyed, of course). The best part was when she'd kick the back of my heels. For this little indiscretion, she was required to immediately back up five steps. By the end of the hike this turned into the "kick heel, back up before she even turns around to cue me" game. Like I said -- smart.

Fortunately, our hike was only three miles that day, so we were in camp by 3:30 p.m. Knowing that Maxine definitely needed a little more of a workout than she'd received inching along behind me, I decided to take a little ride while my husband set up camp.

Being the only one with a horse in a group, I obviously had to ride on my own, but we've done that in the past, so I wasn't worried about it. The great thing about the Sky Lakes area is that there are many loop trails that are little more that a mile, so I knew that I would never be more than 1/2 mile away from camp. After showing the group what trail we planned to take, we set off down the trail with an emergency whistle, a copy of the map, and a curfew. (Come looking for us if we're not back by 5:00 p.m.)

As soon as we hit the trail, the mood changed. Maxine was relieved to be walking her own speed and shuffled speedily down the trail. When we came upon sections of the trail that were free of rocks and debris, we'd break into a posting trot and I'd watch the scenery fly by. I sang songs (too keep the cougars at bay, of course), while Max eagerly carried me down the trail between lakes and meadows. We were fast friends again and before we knew it we were back at camp.

And the camp was great. We set up across the trail from Isherwood Lake. The site opened into a meadow that was surrounded by dense forest, rock cliffs, and a smaller lake. I was very comfortable letting Maxine free graze in the meadow (grazing is permitted after August 1). Every now and again I'd look out to see her enjoying a roll in the grass, followed by a healthy snack.

That evening, I brought her over to the highline and got her set up for the night. Dinner included soaked hay, alfalfa, and beet pulp pellets, as well as her evening grain bag. She ate heartily and then relaxed, ever so often adding her opinion to the fireside chat. Everyone was amused by her cheeky comments.

As night fell, we retired to our tents to get some shut eye. I'll admit, this was one of the moments I was least looking forward too. I simply didn't know how Maxine would take to the highline overnight. She's been safely tied to trailers for long periods at horse shows, she's spent some time in a tie bay with other mules, and I once tied her to a hitching post overnight at a trail head as I slept in a nearby tent. Frankly, I was more worried about her waking up our fellow campers than about what she might do to herself. Fortunately, the afternoon ride had paid off and after bit of pawing and rolling, she was quiet for the night.

Photo: Me and Maxine at the trail head just before heading up the trail. Her blanket made a great pack cover. We didn't lose a single item.

FLASHBACK (May 2005)

I've recently rediscovered the joy of horses, and regressed to my fifth-grade self, thanks to a dear friend at work. I apologize ahead of time if I talk your ear off about my recent equine adventures the next time I see you! Fortunately, Travis has been taking my new hobby in stride; he swears he does not think I'm nuts!

Besides, this is more than just a passing fancy; I already have boots and a helmet and I've started taking lessons. I can even say I own a pair of spurs!

Lessons have been wonderful! I take them from a fabulous gal down in Creswell, and believe it or not, most of the lesson mounts are actually mules! There's not a stubborn one in the bunch.

I can happily say that I'm not too bad, but I have to admit there's more to riding a horse than what you experience on a trail ride. Voice commands, leg commands, reign commands; the cues are endless. And did you know that you can actually tell a horse to go forward just by moving your butt? You can. Trust me, I know!

Want to know more? I'd be happy to tell you about. Do you have an hour or two? In the meantime, here are a few links of interest (to me anyway!).

Photo: Riding Charlie during a lesson in the summer of 2005.

Those who know me are more than aware that I've been riding mules since early 2005. Throughout the years, my friends and family have been subject to myriad stories about my adventures on "muleback."

Since I have so much to share about my adventures, I thought this would be a great place to log my journey. I'll even be sure to include some flashbacks to some of my favorite riding experiences.

Photo: Me and Travis in early 2005 during a beach ride with C&M Stables in Florence, Oregon. We're riding Freckles and Stylus (I bet you can't tell which is which).