As we drop down into our little nook on the mountain, I sigh with relief, we've been in the saddle more or less 6 hours and I'm ready for a break, even if that means unloading the mules and getting the canvas set up. The next couple hours are spent unloading mules, taking the manny tarps off our loads and setting up the tent. All is done, Lee and I locate the camp stove, get a fire going and set a couple cans of clam chowder on top to heat. Sitting back in our camp chairs he goes over the lay out of the surrounding terrain and where the sheep have been located in past years. We carry on our conversation, that is to say Lee talks and I listen avidly, after 40 years in these mountains he has a lot to pass on to me and I am doing a great imitation of a sponge, soaking up his every word. After a brief respite we move to the openings to our north and set up the electric fence, hobbling all but two of the mules we put them in our little pen, leaving the two unhobbled animals out to serve as sentries in the night and reduce how much grass is eaten in our little pen. Wandering back to camp we sit down again and resume our palaver, Lee is a wealth of knowledge and he shares stories and past experiences. As the sun sets we crawl into our bags and curl up for the night, content that the roving mules will alert us to the presence of any bears or even drive them off. As I close my eyes the sound of cow bells and horses moving around in the distance sends me off to sleep.
