Honeymoon Episode 3--The Rise of the Inner Gorge

Arizona has to this point been very pleasant and accomodating, in direct contrast to my last trip to this godawful state in 1989. On my way to Phoenix, I ran out of gas about five miles outside of Tucumcari, and got a speeding ticket on the way back. Both times, the blame lies with me, but I don't do that in California.

Moving on--
Flagstaff and Sedona having been very pleasant time spent, we were both excited about the mule trip. To make our 0645 meeting, we had to leave Flagstaff freakin' early. The early morning snowstorm was unexpected and scary for about five minutes. Once my brain focused on the road rather than the flakes blown directly at the windshield, it was better and not too disorienting. As Colleen said, videogame training once again proves its practical worth.

The mules themselves are large animals, and the mere sight of them caused one elderly couple to back out entirely. Since reservations had to be booked months upon months in advance, this must have been quite a blow. But as our group discussed later at the bottom, it was probably best that they did. Riding them is physically grueling and requires a lot of adjustment. I've never ridden anything living before, and this will sound terrible, but once I started to treat it like a machine it started reacting better. I think that the mules are so well trained, they can appreciate being told when they're misbehaving.

You are given a plastic switch, called a "motivator," for the purpose of correcting your mule. The trick is to use it early, so your mule knows that he/she can't get away with slacking off or otherwise getting distracted. After reading up on the mule on the internet, this neither surprised me or put me off. I wielded the motivator like a nun with a ruler, making sure that Wyatt the mule paid attention to the rear end of his buddy in front of him. Slacking off *whack* looking around *whack* checking out that tasty plant *whack*. Nothing personal or sadistic, just a reminder to stay on course.

The ride down was just over 10 miles, with one stop for water. It was bumpy, and the mules' shape bends your knees the wrong way. Painful for the legs and rear end. We got to see some stupendous views. Arriving at the Phantom Ranch at the bottom was a relief from the jolting, sweaty, dusty trail. But we rode in like we were all pros, proudly riding by befuddled people who had actually hiked down. Like they've never seen nine people on mules before.