Pun’ kin is listening to me. Hank: “He’s a good mule. You just have to tell him what you want.”
Hmmm, how do I do that? Maybe I’m learning?
These people who run and work the Red Rock Rides are genuine, love their area, the land and people. They have a deep cowboy culture, which comes through true – hard work, pride in mastered skills, good food, big families, humor, story, and song. Pete M. always has a smile on his face – he loves his work.
Today a sad announcement was made – Keela’s mother died. As a child, her mom and the children traveled down the Paria every spring to spend the summer gardening with her father who worked down there. They put up all their vegetables for winter. In the fall, she went back up the Paria to attend school. The family took two days to travel the Paria, camping at the Crack Spring. Occasionally they had to climb the canyon wall to avoid flooding.
This was our day to travel down the Paria, starting at 7 am, first light, and completing the traverse of 28.5 miles at 3:30 pm. It was incredibly beautiful as light came into the canyon, glowing on the rocks. We crossed the river many times. Indications of times past were some Indian designs in a rock wall, and names and dates of early pioneers written in axel grease on other rocks.
Pete and Keela’s son Tawn drove a four-mule cart with rubber tires. When I found myself getting too hot after lunch, I rode the buckboard for a spell, bouncing over boulders.
“Hold on now,” Tawn would say, and we would drop down a 4-food cutbank into the riverbed. Then he yelled encouragement to the team, and up a steep bank we would go, riding like a roller coaster, but don’t dare put your hands in the air!
What a wonderful day!
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