Live Life Fully: Embrace Every Adventure

Living life fully means taking each day as it comes and enjoying things along the way. My in-laws, Carol and Lane, were always great examples of living life to its fullest. They didn’t wait till retirement or until they had more time to do the things they loved. They embraced every adventure. Trips into the backcountry with friends and family were woven into their hard-working, crazy lives.

In keeping the tradition they started, Carol continues to do the things she loves. One of those things is writing stories of their adventures in the mountains. A life-long dream of hers was to have her stories published for others to enjoy. A few years ago, after a lot of hard work, one of our family favorites was published in Bugle, a publication of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. I am inspired by this story and wanted to share it as a reminder to us all to live life as it comes, making the time to do the things we love and enjoying the journey. So here’s a shout out to my amazing mother-in-law, her passion for life and her story—

King of the Mountain

Packing into the wilderness was our way to get away from the busy world we lived in. My husband, Lane, was a fifth generation Farrier and had shod horses for about 25 years. Later in life he became a successful custom home builder. He said he didn’t want to die shoeing horses like his old man. I was the managing broker in a large real estate office in northern Nevada. We lived in the Carson Valley just below Lake Tahoe. Our sons came early in life and with them raised we had time for ourselves, doing what we loved.

Our life now revolved around hunting and packing. I had been “horse crazy” since I was a small child and marrying a true horseman was like a dream come true. Spending so much time in the outdoors and among wildlife just enhanced the strong bond between us.

Horses and Mules

Horses had been a big part of Lane’s and my life since we were kids, but they became the cornerstone of our lives together. Then one yea Lane decided to buy a big red two-year-old mule colt to pack for us. He was born on the 4^th of July so we named him Crackers. During Crackers’ first year at our place Lane’s 26-year-old Appaloosa, Annie, curled up in a big ball in the barn and died. So Lane decided to try breaking Crackers to ride. “Horse whisperer” training wasn’t’ available in those days. You just got on and rode it out. A big powerful mule, Crackers decided he liked Lane and the two got along famously. Once in a while he would blow up and stampede but most of the time he was rock solid.

So we decided to buy another mule to pack. A friend of ours had a big, black, 2-year-old thoroughbred he said kept bucking off his Aussie trainer. They had tried to load this green colt into a horse trailer to take him to Bishop Mule Days, thinking that if their trainer could stay on him they would race him. But they fought with this youngster and never got him loaded.  Instead, they wound up breaking his nose and putting a a big nasty scar on his hind leg while trying to drag him into the trailer.

This mule colt had the same sire as Crackers, so we went down to take a look at him. After all, we were only going to pack him. Coleville, California, lies in a big beautiful green valley just below the Sierras. The 2-year-old was out in a 165 acre pasture with a bunch of mares. The wouldn’t let us get close to them. So I sat down out in the pasture while everyone else went in the house to have a cold drink. The mares continued to graze a long way from where I was sitting but this colt was so curious (as mules are) that he cautiously came toward me. He would approach me then run off like a kid playing a game. I just sat still and talked to him. I sat out there for an hour before he finally decided I wasn’t going to hurt him. He came closer and closer until finally he leaned on my shoulder and let me catch him. He was my buddy from then on. We named him Jasper.

Adventures in the Backcountry

So now we had a couple of big stout two year-old mule colts who were half-brothers and were ready to head into the backcountry. We started packing Jasper and he did so well we thought we should go ahead and break him to ride, too. Lane rode him a few times and had no problem, but when I rode him he was a little balky and unruly as colts can be.  Both of us were too busy to complete the young mules’ training, so we hired a good horseman to finish up. He did a top-notch job on both colts and we soon began to ride them on our back country adventures.

We so enjoyed both Cracker’s and Jasper’s personalities and their superior ability to  pack and ride in rough country that we bought several more mules. Crackers eventually learned to lead our string of mules in the backcountry of the Sierras and the mountains of Utah, Idaho and Wyoming. Mules are very sure footed to begin with, and Lane shoed them with rock-gripping borium for traction. So they were like cats up on the top of the peaks where we liked to ride. We spent our summers packing into the mountains with one or two of our grandkids. But my husband was a serious hunter, so every fall we spent as much time as possible in the mountains chasing deer and elk. That was a joyous time in our lives. I wasn’t a good shot, but I always wanted to be where the action was, so I became the “staff photographer”. 

Elk on the Mountain

On one such hunting trip when the colts were 3, we’d gotten caught up stalking some elk and got a late start back to camp. It was a dark night with the moon just beginning rise above the ridgeline. As we were making our way down a steep mountain by way of a rocky creek (not really a trail), we started hearing mewing elk headed in our direction. They were on both sides of the creek bed coming directly at us. From the sound of it, there had to be more than a hundred of them. We didn’t know the trail we were on, and riding those two young mules suddenly became very interesting.

I was out in front on Jasper as was usual, with my hand on his neck to comfort him. This was always my signal to him that “all was well”.  Fortunately, he had learned to trust me. But with it being dark and having no idea what was ahead of us, I feared at any moment Crackers might blow up, stampede, and then rocket to the bottom of the drainage with the rest to the string behind him. Cows passes on either side of us on the bank for several minutes. It seemed like an eternity! All we could do was to keep our boys headed down hill as calmly and steadily as possible, with my heart beating a mile a minute.

Then it happened! At the top of the hill, above us to the right, a great bull appeared with the full moon rising behind him. There was no doubt that this was his herd and he was the king of that mountain. He stood with his magnificent rack silhouetted against the moon and let out the most earth-shattering bugle. Almost before we could catch our breaths, two lesser bulls came to stand on either side of him and they too raised their heads and echoed his call. A moment I will never forget

While the bugles echoed through the still night air, our two colts stiffened in alertness, but they listened to the tenor of our voices as we did our best to calm them. As if walking on eggs, they picked their way down the drainage without the slightest stumble. It was terrifying, and yet so exciting that it took long time before the adrenaline left our bodies. We reached our camp safely with no mishaps.

Life Was Good

From prior experience we had learned to wait until we reached camp and dismounted before jinxing the situation with a positive pronouncement like “good ride!” Mules were always full of surprises. But that night they were the best two babies on the mountain. I wished I could have taken a picture of the bulls we saw that night, but my hands were too full of reins to even think about grabbing the camera. The image will always be in my mind, though—that marvelous, spooky night up in the Rockies.

Lane and I hunted for years with our string of mules. Nothing made me happier than to come home on a Friday night after a hectic day of solving problems and see our big horse trailer hooked up and ready to go. We were the luckiest people in the world, and we knew it. Life was so good. Maybe too good. 

Living Life Fully

At the age of 52 Lane was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It shattered our lives. How could this happen to us? Don’t they know what kind of life we lead? The diagnosis must be wrong. The following five years we kept looking for other answers. We didn’t believe it was true, but the answers never came. The MS dramatically affected his legs and he finally could ride no more. He was lucky to get around with a rolling walker. But we were always so thankful for our many wonderful years in the backcountry.

During those years, Lane built me the most beautiful log cabin in our beloved Wyoming. It backs up to the Alpine Elk Refuge just outside of the Jackson Hole area. We could sit on the big covered porch and watch the herds of elk pass through, and every once in a while, a moose.

In 1998, Kidney Cancer took my big strong mountain man away from me. His ashes are scattered up on the elk trail above our cabin. I miss him and the life we shared with our beloved mules in the backcountry so much. Now all of our great mules have passed away too, and I can’t help hoping they are up in heaven with Lane.

Life is short. I’m so glad that Lane and I didn’t wait until retirement to enjoy the outdoors and wildlife we love. If I live to be a 100 years old, I will never forget that wonderful exciting moment in the moonlight with Lane, our mules, and the bulls bugling on the mountain. I wouldn’t trade it for safest, most peaceful night anywhere.

Thank you, Carol for your example of living life fully and sharing your adventures.

Lessons from a Second Father