Hay runs (part 1)

My eyes opened before my brain turned on and tuned in to what was going on around me. It was really dark in camp, but through the trees I could make out the morning star shining bright as ever. Daylight was only an hour or so away, at best. It was cold this morning, and I could only think about taking a leak as I reached for my blue jeans and my boots. I opened my bed roll pulled my head lamp out of my right boot and slowly stretched the elastic band around my matted hair. I stumbled out of the tent and with a big anticipated sigh, I relaxed as I relieved the pressure in my bladder. I looked up at the vast canopy of stars that stretched out over camp, and started going over the process in my head. Make coffee, oatmeal, gather up the stock, brush them all down, saddle, load, hang up the camp box, tie in my string, and hit the trail for the corrals.

This was the third trip out this week, and hopefully the last for a few days. I was starting to think about taking a couple days off as I turned on the little bottle of propane and lit the single burner stove. I put the pot of creek water on the burner and began to tie up my bed roll. I had slept on the manty tarps last night, and to my surprise no mice had taken any hot laps over my forehead. Come to think of it, I had slept pretty well. The trip in yesterday was twenty one miles of peace for the most part. No wrecks on the trail, no broken piggin's, and I hardly had to re-adjust my loads. The mules were all behaving now, a few hundred miles on the trail helps to settle them down. They were getting leaner, so the loads rode better too. I finished packing up my gear and turned to the boiling water. I reached for the baggie of coffee grounds and took out one big handful, shook the loose grounds in the bag and dumped them in the boiling water. I reached for my pommel bags and took out two hard boiled eggs. I unwrapped the tinfoil, and peeled the shells off into a small pile on the stove. I took the shells and dumped them into my coffee. Pulled the pot off of the burner and replaced it with my oatmeal pot. I had about fifteen more minutes before I really got busy. I tied open both entrance flaps on each side of the tent, and hung my bed roll off the tent frame. Leaving the flaps down only invites a bear to tear a hole to see whats in side the tent. I grabbed my blue coffee cup from it's hook and squatted on my heel's waiting for the water to boil. I poured the fresh coffee and held my cup under my nose. I could tell by the steam hitting my nostrils that it was still just a little too hot. I looked to the east side of camp, and the trail was still pitch black in the timber. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my watch. 4:36 am. I was doing pretty well for time, so I blew a little on the coffee and took my first sip. It was dang good, and I had to smile a little. I ate my breakfast in peace, no noise in camp except for the slow lull of the crickets, and an occasional whoosh from one of the mules switching their tales. Even they were enjoying the last few minutes of silence before the work of going home began.