Muling around

or is it mulling around?

Trailer Park Jean

10/28/20220 min read

Here I sit in my jammies drinking coffee at the legit hour of 7:30 am. It is such a civilized hour. Ken used to get up at 4 drink a pot of coffee, then wake me up to fix him breakfast while he went out and saddled his horse. Then he would come in the house to find me asleep on the kitchen floor with bacon frying on the stove. I struggled with mornings...argh....!!!When I ended up working at the mule barn, we usually had a Phantom ranch ride at least once a week. At Phantom, we got up at 3 to get the mules caught, saddled and get some breakfast and coffee before we loaded our dudes. I remember stumbling down to the barn in the dark, swearing I would turn in my notice that afternoon. By the time the sun came up and I got a cup of coffee inside of me, life was not only good, but glorious. I was in the Grand Canyon! We would load our dudes and head to the ruins before the bridge to cinch up. I would tell my favorite joke about the Anasazi suspected of dabbling in cannibalism, but there was no evidence of them ever eating clowns....because...yup I am gonna' say it...they taste funny.Then, it was across the suspension bridge over the Colorado with the sun beginning to warm our backs and we would head up the Kaibab. Sometimes on the way to Tipoff we would see bighorn sheep. At Skeleton Point we stopped to rest the mules and listen to the frightened moans of the dudes. Once in a while, the condors would fly over us. Such great timing on their part. In the Red and Whites, I would tell the story of my great grandfather's unfortunate demise in a landslide near Cremation and the river. By then the morning was giving up it's hold on the day. We would pass the big round rock that had a crack down the middle, that I christened Buttcrack. Ken would get mad when someone would ask my twenty and I would say 'Buttcrack'. 'You can't say that on the radio'!. There was a quick rest at Cedar Ridge, then back on the trail, past Poison Point, (one drop will kill you), up the Chimney and the end of the trail. The few moments I had of hating life on the way to saddle the mules, had given way to glorious sights that will forever be a part of me. By the time we made it back to the barn to unsaddle the mules and went to one of the cafeterias for dinner, I felt I was the most fortunate person in the world.Be blessed and don't let the struggles of three in the morning rob you of the goodness of God.And come on down to Dirt Road. We have stuff almost as pretty as the Grand Canyon in the morning light....just Jean