Wow! This is amazing! Somebody is actually ASKING to hear one of my stories - I can't wait to tell my husband! (he's heard them all a million times ...)
We were there in October, only a week or so before the North Rim closed for the season. So instead of the 30 or so people that sign up during peak season, we only had about 10-12 in our group. We all showed up at the corral and first they asked if anyone had riding experience. Both DH and I have ridden in the past - we're not experts by any means, but we do know the basics. So us and maybe 1 other person raised our hands. Then they appeared to appraise each of us carefully and assign us to our mules. I even remember our mules names - mine was Snoopy and Steve's was Nester. Then they proceed to put us in a very specific order in the pack string. I wondered about it all at the time.
Because our group was small, we just had Bernice - our pack leader - in the front and nobody bringing up the rear. I was 1st in line behind her, with Steve behind me and everybody else in their specifically assigned spots behind. Some people were given switches and instructed on when and how to use them. If their mule fell behind, they should whip them and they demonstrated - hit them HARD! They won't even feel them if you barely touch them and it doesn't hurt them to whack them hard. Ok.
We started down the trail, stopping occasionally for Bernice to point something out or do a little nature talk. The scenery was stupendous and many parts of the trail were sheer drops on one side, hundreds of feet down. Bernice informed us that mules like to hug the very edge of the trail and not to be nervous about it - "these mules are bred from decades of Grand Canyon mules for their sure-footedness!" It's hard not to be a little uneasy when you're sitting on an animal you just met with nothing between you and the bottom of the Grand Canyon except the assurance of their expert coordination.
Also, when we stopped, the mules all liked to face the edge of the trail with their front feet at the very edge and their heads hanging out. It was unnerving but hey - all that sure-footedness, right? What's to worry about?
Here's an interesting tidbit about mules. They can poop while they walk but they can't (or won't?) pee while they walk. So, every once in awhile, Bernice's mule would stop in the middle of the trail and pee. They are large animals - they pee ALOT. Then he would take a few steps forward and stop again, and Snoopy would move into the same spot and pee. Then the next mule and the next, until every single mule in the string had peed in the EXACT SAME SPOT. How interesting. I asked about it and Bernice said that mules are so intelligent that they know by insisting it be done that way (remember the phase "stubborn as a mule"?) that they will get to rest longer than if they all just pee in their own spot. She said that in the summer with 30 or so mules in the string, it can be pretty bad for the last few people in line. I'd guess so.
So as we're going along, Steve's mule Nester kept trying to crowd up on me and pass me! He was constantly having to rein him in to keep him from doing that. Bernice would frequently turn around to keep an eye on her string and occasionally she'd yell out to somebody to make their mule keep up (use the switch.) We get to this one little section of trail with several short switchbacks. We're about halfway through this part, Bernice had just rounded a corner and suddenly, Snoopy just bolts straight down the side instead of staying on the trail and going around the switchback! Bernice looks back and says - "Oh, I forgot to remind you that Snoopy is afraid of that tractor!" Sure enough, parked at the wide part of the switchback was a little garden tractor used for trail maintenance. I guess Snoopy didn't like the looks of it and refused to get too close.
Finally, we're nearing the bottom of the side canyon that was our destination. Before I realized what was happening, I suddenly am being thrown forward over Snoopy's neck! Quick as a flash, I'm back upright! I must've let out a scream or something and Bernice looked back and asked "What happened?" I said "I'm not sure!" and Steve says "Your mule fell down!" Yes, my sure-footed mule, bred from a long line of Grand Canyon mules, tripped and actually went down on his front knees! Apparently he jumped back up really fast and I swear, he actually seemed to look around as if to say "Did anybody see that?" When we stopped and dismounted, I looked and sure enough, he had actually skinned his knees.
Our time at the bottom of the canyon was pleasant and uneventful. Then we started back up. Since Bernice had told us all of her stories on the way down, the trip up was just for conversation. I took advantage of my front spot to mention that it appeared like we were specifically matched up to our mules that morning - was that true? "Oh yes, absolutely! You and your husband must've said you've ridden before. They would NEVER put someone with no riding experience on Snoopy or Nester!" She said they try to put "experienced" people on inexperienced mules. They also try to put experienced people on mules that have a tendency to charge ahead - like Nester. They put newbies on mules that tend to lag behind and have to be "made to go".
She stressed how smart mules are, how they do seem to have emotions (like being embarrassed at falling down) and how good their memories are. She told a story about how she was leading a pack string and came to a blind corner and a trail runner (somebody that RUNS from one side of the canyon to the other) just plowed into her mule. Knocked the trail runner down and really hit the mule hard. Everybody was ok - but she said forever after that, that mule would stop at that corner and peek around to make sure the coast was clear.
So, it was an interesting experience. There's not really much to riding the mule - as long as you can sit on it, you really don't have to do much in the way of controlling it. (unless it's Nester!) I'm glad we did it - but I do think it's one of those "been there, done that" things. I'd definitely go back to the Grand Canyon (we have, in fact) but I think another mule trip would be anticlimatic after that!
A word to the wise: no alcohol. Seriously.
