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鈥淵ou wouldn鈥檛 be any kin to Dick Reese, would you?鈥� I asked.

It was a dumb question now that I think about it.

鈥淗e was my father,鈥� he said.

Having grown up in livestock circles and having worked livestock markets in my late teen years, I knew of Dick Reese. He and his brother were renown, if not famous, mule traders 鈥� I suppose the best-known mule men east of the Mississippi River. I also knew Dick Reese had been killed in a trucking accident some years before.

So, there in organic chemistry lab, a lifelong friendship was forged. Which once again proves the old saying, 鈥淚t鈥檚 not the grades you make, it鈥檚 the hands you shake.鈥�

In the ensuing years I was introduced to Dickie鈥檚 brother and partner, Rufus. And I learned that Reese Brothers were suppliers of most of the famous Grand Canyon mules. Dickie, Rufus and I have had many conversations through the years

Of course, my love for mules goes back further than that day in chemistry lab. My maternal grandfather, Will Herod Brim, owned two mules, Kate and Liz (That鈥檚 鈥淟iz鈥�, with a long 鈥淚,鈥� as in Liza Minnelli.) As a boy I spent many an hour in the feed barn shucking and shelling corn intoxicated by the pungent smell of the mule stable. It was an experience I have never gotten past.

So, after talking about it, dreaming about it, and looking forward to it, I found myself on the back of a mule headed into the Grand Canyon on September 10, 2000. My mule鈥檚 name was Wilford. Over the next ten years, I would ride into the Grand Canyon 18 times. I have ridden mules named Wilford, Mutton, Skid-mark, Budreau, Gizmo, Willow, Katie, Mister, Junky, Wyatt, Josie, Goldie, Lucy, Hoodoo, and Little Jed. Willow and Mutton were forgettable as they were both 鈥減lodders鈥�. Skid-mark was unforgettable as he hopped down every step going into the canyon leaving skid marks on my backside. All my rides took me to Phantom Ranch by way of the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.

After a few years, Rufus suggested I take the Red Rock Ride. He told me of the Mangum family, some of whom I later met at a few Reese Bros. mule sales. Really nice folks. So, in 2015, I booked the Red Rock Ride. A few weeks before I was to go, my wife, Kathy, was diagnosed with stage 2 cervical cancer, and the trip was off.

Ten years later, and one year after Kathy鈥檚 passing, I booked the ride again. In a much needed get-a-way, once again, I found myself on the back of a mule. Her name was 鈥淐ardi B.鈥� Named after a famous female rapper I had never heard of, she was a fine ride. On the last day of the ride into the Grand Canyon, I rode 鈥淏ert.鈥�

Before I left of my trip, one of my friends, a horseman, said, 鈥淛ack, you are going to be sore like you can鈥檛 imagine!鈥�

On the Red Rock Ride, we covered approximately 86 miles in six days. I saw Zion Canyon, Brice Canyon, Butch Cassidy Canyon, the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and two other canyons all from the back of a mule 鈥� all breath-taking.

I discovered the term 鈥渟addle sore鈥� is based on an old, Native 性视界APPn Indian word which means 鈥渢oo old to ride a horse鈥� (or in this case, a mule.) Just kidding.

It was the trip of a lifetime. If I live long enough, I will do it again.