Tales of Swan Valley outfitters - Rod Boothby

SWAN VALLEY – Though he is not an outfitter himself (he works for Tom Parker's Buck Creek Guide Service), Rod Boothby was invited to be one of the speakers at the Aug. 3 Upper Swan Valley Historical Society program heralding the Guides and Outfitters of the Swan Valley.

Boothby said, "I've been packin' horses and mules for about 35 years. Really, the only reason we do this, we really do it for the fun. We don't do it for the money, that's for sure."

Boothby told two stories about mules and, since he is a cowboy poet, he also read two of his poems. The stories were about Willy and Lily, two mules who were as different as day and night.

Willy's problem, Boothby told the audience, was that he thought he was a person. Admittedly, there was some basis for him to feel that way. Willy's mother died when he was born and so he spent his first couple of weeks sleeping by the cook stove in the kitchen. The first few months after that, he lived on the front porch. And sometimes he even got to ride in the passenger seat of the pickup truck.

Boothby said, "He loved it. He'd go down the highway with his head sticking out and his ears were flapping. Old Willy, he just thought that was the greatest place to be."

The problem set in when Willy grew to full size and weighed about 1,200 pounds. Boothby said the upholstery on the old stock-hauling pickup was all chewed up and the mirror was broken off because whenever someone left the door open, Willie tried to get in.

According to Boothby, when they saddled up the horses and mules for a pack trip, Willy was right there. He always wanted to be in the middle of whatever was going on.

Boothby said, "You know how hard mules are to catch? Willy was the easiest mule you ever caught in your life. In fact, he'd even catch himself." [Boothby passed around a picture of Willy holding his halter in his mouth.] "He'd let you put a saddle on, 'cause that felt kinda good – a wool pad scratching his back and somebody rubbing his ears and telling him what a good boy he was. But when you showed up with a set of panniers, his old ears would go to like half-mast. And then when you stood, [one on each side of him] and you gritted your teeth and you started to wince a little because you knew this wasn't going to go real good, and you picked up the pack and you slapped it against the board on the side of the [pack rigging], old Willy's ears would go all the way down. And when you finally got 'em slung on there and you jumped back, old Willy would go to buckin'. And I'm telling you, he just refused to pack. He just refused it. He thought he was a person and he was like, 'I will not be degraded. I'm not walking all day long with my rope tied to another mule."

Lily the mule, according to Boothby, was exactly the opposite.

Boothby said, "Lily was never happy. Lily [would] kick. Lily was hard to catch. Lily was just an ornery mule. When you did get hold of her, you just had to be watching her all the time. You had to have eyes in the back of your hat. That's why we'd get a couple of peacock feathers and put those in the back of our hats, so [the mules] thought you was lookin' at 'em. Lily was just so hard to get along with. She was just so ornery she didn't want to do nothin'

But when you put the pack saddle on her, everything changed. And when you slapped some loads on her, it didn't matter what you hauled on Lily. She packed it flawlessly all day, all night, sometimes 18 hours or longer, in blizzards, at two and three o'clock in the morning, in horrible weather. I could tell you story after story after story of amazing trips and Lily right in the mix packin' some of the worst stuff, whether it was fence posts for the Forest Service or weather stations for firefighters or whatever, gas cans leaking gas down her sides, Lily would pack it like a trooper."

Boothby concluded his stories by comparing the two mules to people. Some people will raise their hands enthusiastically when you ask for volunteers and there'll be one guy in the back, his posture and mannerisms saying, "Not me. I'm not having anything to do with that." Yet, Boothby said, that guy will probably be the one who will show up and work hard. And you'll never even see those eager hand-wavers, or else they'll show up with just a camera.

To finish up, Boothby recited one of his poems inspired by a story told to him by Charlie Clark who owned the Clark Ranch in the valley. Boothby said, "I just had to throw it to poetry."

The Rancher and the Doctor

Now it seems he had a situation, the rancher with his wife.

She'd come down with somethin' awful and they both feared for her life.

'Twas a dark and rainy night with a norther bearin' down.

But he saddled up his fastest horse and headed into town.

The road was bad, the crick was risin' so he woke the doctor late

Told 'im, "Grab your stuff. I'll hitch your rig. There isn't time to wait."

Now the doc just rubbed his eyes, said, "Slow down, let me adjust.

I hate the thought of goin' out tonight. I'll only do it if I must.

Tell me please her symptoms, when did they start and what'd you do"

So the rancher tells him in great detail and says, "Let's hurry or she's through."

"No, I'm sure that she'll get better. I've a pretty good idea of what's she's got.

If you'll do such and such and so and so, she'll feel better by a lot."

So the cowboy hurried home on that cold and windy night,

Followed the doc's exact directions and hoped all would turn out right.

And it did. She soon was better. Feelin' fit as fit could be.

When they chanced to meet the doctor, the rancher asked about his fee.

The pleasant man removed his hat, said, "My bill's four hundred dollars."

"You're crazy, I'll not pay it. You didn't do a thing," the rancher hollers.

"My good man, for your information, I don't get paid for what I do.

I get paid for what I know. And for what I know, I'm billing you.

But I'll offer you a chance to put some labor towards your bill.

My wife wants that large stone put in her yard, that rock on Snakebite Hill."

The rancher shook his head. "To move that boulder can't be done.

Why if that rock weighs fifty pounds, it weighs at least five ton."

So they parted not too happy, the rancher's pride was on the line.

But if it could be done, he'd be the one. A way to move that granite he would find.

A few days later, well you guessed it, that rock was in the doc's yard.

The rancher smiled. This would be worth it, though to move it had been hard.

"Wow! What do I owe you? What should I take from your account?"

His face went red when he heard the words: "Take off the full amount."

It was the doc's turn to be angry. He said, "You know that that's not fair!

You know that if I thought it cost four hundred dollars, I'd a said just leave it there."

The rancher shrugged his shoulders, "All that you say just might be true.

But for what I know, I don't get paid. I get paid for what I do."