Boys Will Be Gone...

Boys and Men everywhere, a moment of silence please... ... ... This is a story about losing your boys (careful not to let her see your grimace or watery eyes.)

Few things in this world can make a grown man cry. Fewer still can knock him on his back into a primordial fetal position and make him wish for a swift, merciful death. The thought of injuring or losing ones family jewels can do it, and Ladies just don't get that. Oh, I know that they have collectively learned where to place a disabling kick. I know that they understand in a very superficial way how carefully we guard our boys. But what women will never comprehend is the way the entire universe trembles at the mere thought of testicular mutilation.

For all of you who suppose that I am jesting or reveling in jocularity, please stop it. No matter how robust our sense of humor, and no matter how great our capacity to belch out a courtesy laugh for social purposes, guys cannot take testicular humor. Doubt me? Watch what happens the next time some female blithely mentions the proverbial groin kick in a room full of guys and you will carefully notice how forcefully she penetrated their stoicism. One by one, they will eventually get back on their mental feet and the room will return to normal--but you will know that they felt a deep, universal shudder and may exhibit signs of post traumatic stress for days after.

So this morning, I have Dr. King on the phone. "I can be there at 4:00 this afternoon to get that John Mule castrated for you." says he. "Boy, I hate to do this to such a sweet little guy. I'll try to be mentally ready by then," thinks I. Chantra, washing the morning dishes, throws her chin over her shoulder and casually insists, "Ask him if he has time to do yours too."

I think I swallowed my cell phone.

Doc King came and went. Chantra watched Doc King perform the surgery on my prize mule with a keen and hopeful eye. I think I feel like my mule. Nausea, groin pain beyond mortal description, depression...and tomorrow, probably some PTS.

Thank you for your reverent and empathetic attention as you listened to my story. If I sleep on the couch tonight, its because I wanted to. Little Mule? I feel your pain...

The Honest Scrap Award

Today, we go off mule-topic to respond to a blog award that I received from Amanda's Veranda. I'm slightly uncomfortable right now as you read this. Its a man thing. Our brain boxes don't touch each other, and having a non-mule box in blog-o-world touching my mule box feels unnatural. Plus, truth telling in such a public forum is a bit personal and carries great risk for the average man. Men hate to wear it on their sleeve.

My posts here in Longears and Sourdough are mostly a cathartic stress reliever. I also write so my kids can sit around some day and reminisce about their heritage, which is easier than writing a book. So here comes this really nice blogger who wants me to tell 10 honest things about myself and then pass this award to seven other bloggers who I think deserve the compliment vis-a-vis their genius.

This is my list of Awardees in random, particular order: you all can now do the same.

Our Chaotic Clan seems to be a spider thing going on at her house.

Somewhere in Time shares some genes with me, but got more of the wit one than I.

Southern Mother Huck Finn lives there and Mom is a true patriot.

Island Family in the Desert Makes the everyday come to life in the most Alliterate way.

Perfect Moments Photography Extra-ordinary photographer

Plus 2 Singletons Has more twins than most, full of character

GoochTroop The consumate boys home.

Now for 10 undeniable truths. They are my story and I'm stickin to it...

1. I am an explorer. Not knowing what is over the next hill or around the next corner makes me uncomfortable. Every new vista is a relief to my soul. Every fresh smell and natural sound stops me in my tracks and grabs my heart.

2. I am a thrill seeker, and I love to pass it on. Everyone who knows me just said "Ya think?!" right now.

3. I am lucky, which perhaps explains why I am still alive.

4. I love to fly so much, I will crawl into anything capable of flight without a second thought. My career as a powered parachutist began by myself in a lonely alfalfa field. My only instruction was a friend waving his arms as I launched skyward. I couldn't stop crying and laughing as the world fell away and I marveled that I had to get my craft back to earth by myself. Over the next 8 years, I introduced over 1500 people to magic-carpet flight in the back seat of my own powered parachute.

5. I hate golf. Most eye doctors live in fancy houses and play golf. I live in a modest starter home on an acre with irrigation water and AG Zoning. After I leave my fancy office, I farm or explore. I would only trade it for a bigger farm and I would die inside if I had to live in a curb and guttered subdivision.

6. I hate chemical numbness. Liquor has never crossed my lips, and I fought every pain med, morphine drip, and epidural that the intensive care ward ever foisted on me. Neither trip to the intensive care ward was due to a thrill seeking activity (except I may have been speeding a little when that truck turned in front of my motorcycle.)

7. I love my job. When I help someone see for the very first time it brings tears to my eyes.

8. I love my sweet wife and her story. Her family's harrowing tale of survival in Cambodia's Killing Fields and foiled execution at the hands of the Khmer Rouge captivates me still after 20 years of marriage.

9. I love freedom. Karl Marx and his philosophy are responsible for more misery and death in this world than any other man that ever lived in it--recall the hundreds of millions who died in cultural cleansing and socialist revolutions within the past 90 years. New Hampshire's motto Live Free or Die informs my existence and reading Patrick Henry's Give Me Liberty speech makes me shout praise every time I re-read it.

10. I love the Author of it all. This is the place where words fail. There is no human language capable of communicating the gratitude I hold to the One who gave me my agency, my shot at mortality; and who alone has the power to heal every wound mortality inflicts on the human condition. I don't want to miss one inch of life, but I long for the day I get to feel His embrace. I know who He is.

Chuckwalla: BoomTown through Molly's Buckhorn Sights

I was a bit skeptical about today's Back Country Horseman group ride over the Chuckwalla trail. Chuckwalla is more of a Front Country ride. It is one of those places with lots of rules, like stay single file on the trail, and leave your dog at home unless you can keep him on a leash. As part of the Desert Preserve, they worry that our presence might disturb the Desert Tortoise. More of a back country guy, I don't pick these places myself, and I had never been on the Chuckwalla before.


The Chuckwalla trail is beautiful. Ivins, Santa Clara, and all the recent developments along the Snow Canyon Parkway meander among the blackened lava fields below the trail to the West. Pine Mountain had her freshly snow-covered head in the clouds to our East, and Spring's grasses spread their green blanket at the feet of the red, pock-marked sandstone ledges. This is Red Rock country--visually stunning with the most complementary set of contrasting colors on Earth.

The Chuckwalla trailhead is one or two blocks north of the Snow Canyon Parkway intersection just as you leave town from Bluff Street.

Corny post about Mule Fuel

For three years now, I've been hiding piles and piles of Mule crap in the poor, cement-like soil between my house and my corrals. Every time it rains, I fire up the tractor and till it in. Like magic, the mule-rich soil beckoned to my farmer DNA with its warm, earthy aroma. Spring had arrived this week, and we went corn-nuts in the soft moist soil...planting 10 sixty-foot rows of sweet corn, barefoot style.

It is the circle of life. I guess we aren't wasting anything. Feed them, ride them, and eat their @#% --sounds like a poem about re-incarnation. If we can get our Mule-fueled corn to grow, that is.

We aren't the only ones feeling spring's blush as we breathe her earthy aroma. All the mares are coming in heat. Don't be gettin any ideas after seeing my Lily-white legs...my Ass is a big Red Roan named Rusty and he is standing for select quality mares this spring. Stud Fee $500, guaranteed live foal. Must be present to win...

Sister Suzy Wore Spurs

Nature got her revenge on man when she created a woman's wiles. And if that wasn't enough, the woman ramped it up with all kinds of un-mentionables. The other day, I saw that they got this company out now called Victoria's HUSH HUSH?... anyhow, just thinkin about how much better lookin you are on a mule. And spurs? Whoa up there, pard. You better be careful with the pictures from today's ride, Sister Suzy. When your hubby Doran sees you in spurs on a Mule, you might not outrun him.

Sister Suzy says she was glad she was riding my good Molly today. We lost the trail on our way back down from the Snow Canyon overlook, and had to come down off the top through some ledgy, washed out canyon. She said I took her daughters and her the hard way on purpose, which just is not true. I will admit I let her believe that no human had ever taken a horse down this particular canyon before, but only because I wanted her to feel like she accomplished something really spectacular after it was over, kinda like after a bungee jump when you proudly throw out your chest and strut around exclaiming, "Hooooaahh!" I don't know why she was all worried. It was just another day in the desert for the mules.

After the ride, we sauntered into Marv's Diner for a burger, spurs a-jingling across the tiled floor. All eyes glanced our way. Cowboy boots just seem strange in our newly cosmopolitanized town, and the diner full of bike helmets and spandex made us stand out. As we bellied up to the bar to make our order, some lady boldly left her seat and approached Sister Suzy and me. "Why do you wear spurs?" she questioned us--the tone of her voice implying that we were somehow being cruel to our mounts. Are you kiddin me lady? Its all about sex appeal. You ever seen a dude on a horse wearing a sweat band, jogging pants and tennis shoes? I can't speak for Sister Suzy, but riding a mule and wearing spurs is good for my love life...

Baptized in the East Fork of the Virgin

There are all kinds of baptism in this world. Some people argue that it is best by immersion, some by sprinkling. Some people get it by fire. Brother Mike and his tall Walking mule Maggie got it today in the cold winter waters of the East Fork of the Virgin; and it was nearly a full immersion. Tweren't very ceremonious, and Tweren't done by any Godly authority, but Brother Mike prayed over his molly Maggie as she went down into the water. He invoked all the proper Biblical Latin one would expect, including most of the profanity available in the modern mule-skinner's lexicon.

We got in the river at Mount Carmel Junction yesterday and rode into the heart of the canyon beyond the ATV boundaries where few people go and spent the night huddled in our sleeping bags around the fire as Jack Frost laid his white blanket on the world. Zion's thrones kept their watch as Jim Wallick, Brother Mike and I enjoyed her heavenly light show. Slowly, the Big Dipper rose over head, forming a temporary halo around her steepled heights. Molly's re-assuring cowbell clanked gently as mules stirred in the dark, and we retreated deeper into our bags from the cold--leaving just enough lip exposed to breath the sharp air. Morning took her sweet time coming.

It was Mule-camp with all the benefits, including bacon in a cast iron skillet for breakfast, and exploration on natures finest four-legged conveyance. Secret slot canyons, a bald eagle, and enough lion tracks to over-load the olfactory of any hound, graced our day. Like a scene from O' Brother, Where Art Thou, we all went down to the river and witnessed Mike's molly Maggie get her sins and transgressions washed away.

Friday the 13th: The Virgin at Black Rock

For a place with such a relatively short recorded history, no one really knows how the Virgin River got its name. The local joke posits that the Virgin River got her name because no one has ever seen her bottom. Some believe that the Virgin River was named "La Virgen" by Spanish Catholic Missionaries in honor of the Vigin Mary. Her muddy trickle should hardly be called "river" most of the time, but during times of flooding she is certainly worthy. Washington County has felt the Virgin's wrath at times, our history reflecting the occasional trauma of lost homes, fields, and bridges that connect one side of town to the other.

Originating in the cold, clear waters of Navajo Lake on Cedar Mountain, the muddy Virgin River enters the Virgin River Gorge just South of St George after it has gathered up additional water from Pine Valley Mountain, Zion National Park, Caanan Moutain, and a sizable portion of the Arizona Strip through the Fort Pearce drainage. From the Gorge, it meanders downhill past Mesquite, NV and eventually joins the Colorado in Lake Mead.

This mule-only trip was a daddy-daughter outing. We spent 5 hours in the saddle together on Friday the 13th. 11 year old Sunnie normally rides her Dash for Cash mare who foaled the fantastic John mule colt we named Doc. For all the talk about mules around here, she had never been on one. So today she rode Minnie Pearl. Smooth! Worried that she wouldn't know how to handle the little Molly, she started out a bit nervous as we left the trailer just off of the Black Rock Exit. Soon, she started taking the more technical routes on her own. Over the ledges, through the cactus fields, and across the Virgin we rode until we sat on top of the world. We had our lunch looking over the mighty Virgin and the Gorge she cut out of the mountain--amazed that we got to have it all to ourselves.

Friday the 13th was my lucky day. I got to spend it with you. Sunnie, did I ever tell you, you are better lookin on a mule!?

Hard as a Rock

Zion National Park's southwest corner is home to an impressive petrified forest. A large field of colorful petrified logs and wood chips litter one of the plateaus beneath Zion's towering thrones. Except for the Chinle Trail which starts in the new subdivision, Anasazi Plateau, getting there is a moderately technical and convoluted ride into Zion's inner sanctum. It is a part of Zion National Park that sees very little traffic. Jim Wallick and Kent Sullivan rode with me today, their horses glaring at my Molly with supercilious disdain. This ride was one for the books: warm, and beautiful. It was all good, but that log we sat on for lunch was hard as a rock!

Of Mules and Men: the Integrative Training Method

I just got back from a funeral in my small hometown, Mona. It was a joyful occasion, a time to renew acquaintance and celebrate a well-lived life. Mona lost one of its venerable old patriarchs. The anguish of loss is sweet when there are no regrets, and Maurice drove a swather through life that cut a windrow of good in the lives of his neighbors. I haven't lived in Mona for 22 years, 11 months, and 25 days, but Maurice Kay and his family are part of my circle of life. Their mark is difficult to measure. Maurice raised an honorable family on his farm in Mona. He educated his kids with an Integrative ethic, where they learned by being part of their parent's livelihood. The resulting product is a posterity of men and women with backbone and vitality, who conduct life with dignity. I salute you, Kay Family. The world needs more of your kind.

I have watched an interesting shift in our culture and our child-raising ethics come roaring into life over the past 30 years. It seems like today, we build a Disneyland world for our kids, quite insulated from our own adult world, and use it to carefully coddle their upbringing--fearing that we might make them uncomfortable or that they may offend our adult activities if they venture out of their bubble.

Growing up in Mona instilled that Integrative Child Raising Method in my genes. Chantra and I instinctively started bringing our kids into our adult lives as soon as they were born. We included them in all of our activities and adventures. Rarely do I recall creating kid activities that were designed just for their sole entertainment. They have seen my business dealings, attended Rotary and other grown up community functions with me, and have been fully included in all of our explorations. They don't even get to cry their way out of church meetings. I don't know how much of it is in their genes, or how much of it is this inclusive parenting style, but to know my kids is to be impressed by their bearing.

I enjoy raising my mules using the Integrative Method. I take my babies almost every where I go and try to expose them to as many positive external experiences as I can. Mules are a fabulous conveyance for exploring the world and I want them confident when its time to start riding them. Using the Integrative Method, my kids are great Mule-training aids. Using the Integrative Method, my mules are great Kid-training aids. Of Mules and Men: its all about being a Dad. Papa Gooch, thanks for your example. Son? Follow my trail.

Senator at 1 year old

5-year-old Preston

Exploring with Doc--Guidelines and Contact info

Call 435-467-5577, or email me at goochod@infowest.com
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Would you like to see what I see?

About me:

I help people see for a living. I have a real job that I love to go to every day. But I do have a vice...exploring the natural wonders of the SouthWest with friends and family is my passion (I'm no golfer). While I grew up around horses, I didn't get the chance until 2006 to have them around again. As a family, we started from scratch, developing our little herd into what we have today. It isn't a passing fancy and they aren't just pets that sit idle in corrals. Our animals get handled daily, and are ridden regularly. They are highly experienced and well trained. Offering these trips to you is a way to cost-share the expense of maintaining these animals for me; and a way to give you the chance for once-in-a-lifetime experiences in the back country without having to come up with your own livestock. Here is your chance to come along with me on the trail. I hope you'll join me around the campfire some evening in one of those special places, weary from a good day's ride, and listen to the soothing sounds of cowbell against the night. --DrGooch

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What I provide:

A horse or mule matched to you. I can handle from 1 to 4 people depending on the trip and the individual needs of the participants. I will not risk a poor animal/person fit, so the number we can take depends on the individual riders, their weight, and their natural inclination for this activity. I will see to the animals' care on overnighters and wilderness trips, but will be glad to teach you and use your help according to your desires and aptitudes.

Food and Water. Depends on the trip: On Wilderness Experiences, main meals and some snacks will be provided. Often, the first days of the trip, we eat fire grilled steak and baked potatoes. Towards the end, we eat Mountain house freeze dried meals. You and I will finalize our menu plans before departure on any trip. Some trip locations have a favorite restaurant we will visit on the way in or out of our ride.

Shelter. We use back packing tents and tarps for overnighters and Wilderness Experiences. I can provide you with a tent, or you may bring your own depending on the trip and the size of the tent.

What you will provide:

Proper foot wear, and clothing. We will discuss the nature of our trip and what you can expect for weather. I will have guidelines for you that will cover most contingencies. If you come grossly unprepared in a way that jeopardizes our safety, the trip will be cancelled without refund.

On time arrival. Many of these trips require a very early start to handle the logistics of getting the stock to the trail head, saddled, packed and complete the trip. Late starts can actually jeopardize the safety of some trips (usually the overnighters).

A signed copy of my liability waiver. This is high adventure without a safety net--we won't have cell service on most of these trips. You must assume all risks inherent with the use of stock in the back country. That said, I will be extremely fair with you as you are with me. I have spent nearly every weekend the last three years taking inexperienced riders into these places, starting with my own wife, children, siblings, parents, students and neighbors. I am confident in my animals and your ability to ride them. Bumps, bruises, and sore muscles are par for the course, but coming home safely is the only option available.

Payment. I require 25% non-refundable deposit to book our trip, and the balance at the trail head. Once we are in the saddle, no refunds will be given for inclement weather. (Sometimes the best rides are in the snow and rain...just sayin')

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Exploring with Doc--Trip Menu

Click here for Guidelines and contact info

Below are the post-links that showcase each trip, with photos, and my opinion of the level of difficulty for each trip. Seasons in red are approximate--All Trips subject to Weather and trail conditions.

*Adventure Scale: Easy, Easy-Mod, Moderate, Moderate-Diff, Difficult, Advanced

Day Trips: $200 plus fuel (under 30 miles, no fuel charge)

ChuckWalla Rating--Easy, 2-3 hours (October to April)

Haslem Trail (here or here) Rating--Difficult to Advanced (for heights, ledges), 3 hours (October to April)

Virgin River Gorge Rating--Moderate (for length and river crossings) 4-6 hours (October to April)

East Fork of the Virgin Rating--Easy to Moderate (for river crossings) (September to May)

Cassidy Trail Rating--Easy to Moderate (depends on length) (April to November)

Bear Trap Falls via Kolob Rating--Moderate to Difficult (1st half to Kolob Arch--easy trail, Moderate length; 2nd half Difficult for river crossings and technical spots. Full trail 20 miles round trip) (March to December)

Bear Trap Falls via Hop Valley Rating--Moderate to Difficult (Hop Valley Moderate; into Laverkin Creek and Bear Trap Falls Difficult) (March to December)

Zion's Petrified Forest Rating--One Easy route, One Difficult route (September to April)

Short Creek Rating--Easy-Mod (some Difficult if you want to ride to Amphitheatre) (September to April)

Snow Canyon Kayenta/Hells Canyon overlooks (and here) Rating--Easy to Moderate (The pics in the blog posting show mules scrambling up ledges, but aren't part of the normal trail.) (October to April)

Pine Valley Mountain trails Rating--varies from Moderate to Advanced (Summer)

Overnighters: $400 plus fuel

Cassidy Trail Rating--Easy to Moderate (20 miles round trip) (April to November)

East Fork of the Virgin Rating--Easy to Moderate (for river crossings) (September to May)

Bear Trap Falls via Hop Valley Rating--Moderate to Difficult (Hop Valley Moderate; into Laverkin Creek and Bear Trap Falls Difficult) (March to December)

Hop Valley (and here) Rating--Easy to Moderate (March to December)

Short Creek Rating--Easy-Mod (some Difficult if you want to ride to Amphitheatre) (September to April)

Pine Valley Mountain trails Rating--varies from Moderate to Advanced (Summer)

Escalante Canyon Rating--Difficult to Advanced (for tricky river crossings) (All year, except during high water)

Nebo Rating--Difficult to Advanced (for steep trail, technical in places) (July to October)

Wilderness Experiences: Not Rated. These 5-7 day trips follow good trails with a Moderate rating, but are in a class by themselves because of the way we pack and care for the Stock for such an extended time. Wilderness trips are rugged, primitive and filled with the possibility for discomfort--just you against nature, but are once in a lifetime--spectacular! Only 2 to 4 spots available per season. $1500 plus fuel

Utah's Uintas (end of July)
Wyoming's WindRivers (and here) (end of August)