Dan Aadland’s trainer, Travis Young, giving the halter-broke, but untrained, Bubba a whirl. “We were both amazed at how quickly Bubba learned,” Aadland writes. “After just a few round pen sessions, Travis was on Bubba’s back.”

We were being "law abiding." Camped in a wilderness valley, our horses secured to a high line, the tent pitched, the cooking area covered by a tarp, Billy and I lacked only one thing to hold the drizzle at bay. We had no campfire.

Now, in mid-September, the dry season had finally ended, but the Forest Service lagged a couple of days behind the change in weather, so campfire bans were still in effect, and we had been reminded of that by three cheerful female Forest Rangers we met on the trail. Then the cold drizzle had set in, soaking the forest, and at this altitude threatening, if it turned colder, to become snow.

Marooned under the tarp we’d rigged over our kitchen area some distance from the tent (we were in grizzly country), with no desire to crawl so early into our sleeping bags, the gas lantern a poor substitute for a campfire, we cracked peanuts, washed them down with our favorite beverage, and talked about mules.

Mules had been on our minds. Like most mountain horsemen, we’d always been fascinated by them. Not that either of us needed a mule. Billy owns three superb gray Tennessee Walking Horses of my breeding, heavy boned, fast walking, surefooted mountain horses.

For nearly 30 years, I’ve been enjoying horses of the sort we’d brought on this trip, breeding them better each year. They’ve carried me over mountain passes in extreme conditions, brought me through snowstorms, herded my cattle, and carried my children. I couldn’t ask for more.

But an old outfitter friend who also has outstanding horses had told us of a torturous off-trail route he often took to a favorite hunting spot, a route over deadfall on a mountainside, how he often parked his horses and took only his mules when he attempted to ride there.

Billy and I had heard such stories from others as well, and we knew the reputation of mules as the ultimate backcountry machines. And for us, mules became really interesting when you threw in what for us is an absolute requirement, a fast, four-beat gait, such as a running walk, amble, or foxtrot.

For me, as owner of a band of gaited broodmares I’d selected during three decades, the jump was a logical one. So over the sound of raindrops pelting the tarp above us and the pines creaking in the wind I said, "Billy, we ought to go in together and buy a gaited jack."

"Let’s do it!" came the resounding reply. And so the idea of Bubba was born.

Mules 101
In spite of the growing popularity of mules and the publicity furnished by well-known trainers, such as Meredith Hodges (800/816-7566; www.luckythreeranch.com), many of our ranch customers still show confusion about mules.

To reiterate, mules are the sterile offspring of a male donkey and a female horse. (The less common reverse, offspring of a male horse and female donkey, is called a hinny.) An intact male donkey is called a "jack," a female a "jenny." Among mules, males are often called "johns," females "mollies."

Mules are sterile, because horses have 64 chromosomes (32 pairs), donkeys 62 (31 pairs). Mules end up with 63, a number that can’t evenly divide into pairs as required for reproduction. But sterility shouldn’t be confused with reproductive drive. Mules have that drive, so males, as with horses, must be gelded. Mollies (female mules) experience reproductive cycles, though they’re normally relatively quiet ones.

In conformation and disposition, mules show traits of both their parents. Although it’s currently popular for many mule breeders to say that their goal is to produce animals that look like "horses with long ears" — that is, leaning strongly toward the horse in conformation — others strongly disagree, saying it’s the donkey features we want to preserve in mules.

And what are those? In disposition, when frightened, horses are 90 percent flight. Donkeys will react one of three ways (or sometimes, with a combination of all three) when confronted with a strange and scary situation. They’ll study the situation, flee, or fight.

Mules are somewhere between donkeys and horses in this respect. Yes, they can flee when frightened, but rarely with the blind abandonment of senses occasionally found in horses. Sometimes, they’ll take just a step or two after spooking, then study whatever is spooking them.

In the case of an unwanted four-legged intruder, mules will often fight. Beware, those who insist on taking their dogs on the trail. A mule train won’t tolerate strange dogs, and no dog is a match for an angry mule.

Additionally, donkeys, having evolved in rocky, mountainous regions (rather than on the plains, like horses) tend to have feet hard as flint, and mules often inherit this advantage. Surefootedness is in the genes.

Donkeys are longer lived than horses, and they seem to possess a dense, hard muscling that’s deceptively strong. My farrier trims donkeys at a nearby nature center and finds the friendly little creatures strong out of all proportion with their size. Lastly, few who’ve worked with both horses and donkeys fail to concede that donkeys are more intelligent.

Dan Aadland named his black- and-tan molly Ruthie after Festus’ mule in Gunsmoke.

A Chilly Arrival
Billy and I located Bubba (originally named Bud) on Stepping Out Farms in Tennessee and bought him from Bill Moore, an expert in the world of gaited mules.

Bubba arrived in December with a shiver and a puzzled look on his face suggesting he’d been promised a trip to Arizona rather than to Montana. But he soon adjusted to a shed with an outside run, and if he suffered from the cold in any way, we couldn’t detect it.

But his presence was immediately known by us and by all our neighbors for a mile in every direction. His sonorous bray rivaled the bugle of a bull elk, and I still can’t hear it today without breaking into a smile.

With breeding season some months away, I asked our trainer, Travis Young, to give the halter broke but untrained jack a whirl. We were both amazed at how quickly Bubba learned. After just a few round pen sessions, Travis was on Bubba’s back. After a few more rides, the two of them went outdoors to check our calving cows.

The gaits we’d seen at halter on the video were indeed there. I’ve seen Bubba perform an amble, a running walk, and a foxtrot. I remember well what Marie Lanier of R & M Gaited Mules told me years ago: "If you want a gaited mule, it’s not enough to have a gaited mare. The jack has to show some gaitedness, as well."

When breeding season came, two things happened. First, although he had some tendency to mount a mare, Bubba was too wary to breed a mare successfully. Secondly, our mares were unused to donkeys, and most were afraid of Bubba. Since we’re well equipped to collect semen and artificially inseminate, it was easier to go that direction.

Bubba soon learned to mount a phantom mare on a stand (sometimes called a breeding dummy), and in this he was aided by another delightful addition to the ranch, a gentle jenny we promptly named Bubbette. She didn’t have to do anything, just stand behind a panel and look pretty. This furnished the extra impetus needed for Bubba. A veterinary check of his semen proved Bubba extremely fertile, and we were off and running.

Anticipation
Billy and I, of course, "deserved" Bubba’s first two offspring. For Billy’s mule, we bred a mare named Misty, mother of Little Mack, the terrific gelding who was subject of my column in the last issue.

Was picking a mare of such renown to breed a mule the proper thing to do? Absolutely! Some years ago, when my wife, Emily, and I rode in Spain, we commented to our guide that we’d never seen such beautiful mules. She replied that in Spain one selects only his or her very best mare to breed a mule. That’s very good advice.

Of course, with nearly 30 years in the breeding business, Emily and I are confident enough in the quality of any of our mares to breed mules from them, but I wanted one from Misty for a good friend, and she was Billy’s choice, as well. I’d given riding lessons to Erin, Billy’s wife, on Little Mack, who she considers the best horse anywhere, and Billy had seen the gelding perform on cattle and in the mountains.

For my own mule, I chose a tall, dark-gray mare named May. I’d been quite impressed with the build and gentle disposition of her first foal. With both mares shown to be pregnant via ultrasound, there was nothing to do but wait.

And we anticipated a longer wait than usual, because donkeys and mares bred to them are said to have longer gestation than mares bred to stallions. However, this didn’t prove true. Misty, as usual, had her mule foal somewhat early (just as she always does when bred to a stallion), on a muddy morning. May foaled the day after. Billy’s was a sorrel john (male) mule, mine was a black-and-tan molly. His soon became Henrius, mine Ruthie (after Festus’ mule in Gunsmoke for those old enough to remember).

From the beginning, both were extremely gentle. We did some imprinting and watched with delight as the mule siblings took across the paddock in head-nodding running walks. Within weeks, they were scooting in this gait around their mothers in ever-widening circles. We’ve found that if such gaited traits are shown by foals in their early months, the gaits will be there when training begins, even if the colts become trotty or pacey prior to training. We suspect the same will prove true for Henrius and Ruthie.

Aadland imprinting Henrius. “From the beginning, both were extremely gentle,” writes Aadland. “We watched with delight as the mule siblings took across the paddock in head-nodding running walks.”

A Time to Learn
Billy and I are both modest at this point about our mule endeavor. We realize there’s much to learn. Since 1980, when Emily and I bought our first Tennessee Walking Horse broodmare, we’ve raised nearly 300 foals, but before Henruis and Ruthie, just two mules, and that was many years ago.

Pete and Petunia were offspring of a jack and registered Welsh mares. I remember Petunia as difficult and Pete as delightful, as long as you didn’t try to pen him in. Even when he was no larger than a big dog, Pete could stand flat-footed in front of a corral fence, look at it carefully, and then clear it with room to spare. Jumping seems to come naturally to mules, as does the ability to escape. One hears of mules that learn to crawl under the bottom wire of a barbed wire fence and others that become expert at untying knots.

Thus far, Ruthie and Henrius have shown no such Houdini tendencies. Both are gentle to handle, though we’ve found ourselves being more conscientious about early handling than we are with our Tennessee Walking Horse foals. After all, mules are the ultimate in hybrid vigor; they’re created from parents not only of different breeds, but of different species. Thus, motivation is strong to do everything right.

After weaning, Billy took Henrius home. Ruthie, now the sole "longear" in a corral full of Walking Horse colts, openly missed him, but she didn’t pine. She gets along well with her half-sisters and -brothers, but she seems more anxious to visit with Emily or me than with any of them.

Henrius, never before trailered, learned rapidly. We let him study the rear of the trailer, and we used a rump rope, to which he was accustomed from halter breaking. Mainly, we just kept his attention on the rear of the trailer.

An added incentive was Redstar, Emily’s gelding. Henrius watched with great interest as Redstar stepped quietly into the trailer, and soon he followed. Once home, Billy gave the weanling mule a few similar lessons, and soon he was jumping in and of the trailer like a champ.

Does our enthusiasm for these long-eared foals mean we’ll abandon the horses? Not on your life! Our Walking Horse colts continue to bring us excellent prices, and they’ve long been our pride and joy. But they say that variety is the spice of life, and the mule adventure is providing it. Stay tuned, and happy trails!

Dan Aadland (http://my.montana.net/draa) raises mountain bred Tennessee Walking Horses and gaited mules on his ranch in Montana. His most recent books are The Best of All Seasons, The Complete Trail Horse, and 101 Trail Riding Tips. Sketches from the Ranch: A Montana Memoir is now available in a new Bison Books edition.