Long Lost uncle Albert and his pack mule

In the town of Buffalo Wy. , there were all the modern amenities. A hardware store, gas station, even a city park. It was a fantastic example of a modern small town. I was also right at the base of the bighorn mountains. The view went on and on. Snow capped until July, and beaming with wildlife.

Uncle Albert had lost his parents when he was 16-½., He dropped out of school and ran for the hills. Or rather the bighorn mountains. A life in the mountains he decided with a good mule and a strong back. Leave it all down there he thought . With a worn pack saddle and a halter that had been patched together. 

Uncle Albe got hungry sometimes. He would sneak into the backside of town. At the hardware store, there was a back door. This is where they would make the deals.

Uncle Albert would bring deer antlers that he found and the manager would give him the expired canned goods. Beans and corn mostly, and some yellow peaches. His Favorite. 

Uncle Able had been living this life on repeat for so many years now. He was about 73 years young. His favorite pack mule is long gone, but many have filled his place.

I was working one hot long shift. Mowing lawns, and weed wacking around bird feeder poles, I look up from my trailer, and there comes Uncle Albe. Leading his pack mule into town. I knew it was him from all the stories my dad had told me. I offered him a Gatorade, and you should have seen the look on his face .Orange water? He said.

I have a lot to teach you about this and that I told him. To my surprise he gulped down the whole thing. The mule looked at him with twitching ears, and a busy tail swishing the flies. Uncle Albert told me he was ready to put his mule out to pasture, and live an easier life. He told me he had read stories of feather beds and warm dry cook stoves. Warm apple pie and maybe a pretty lady to cook one for him.

It is now 1974 and lots of modern things have been established. Uncle Albert was done with the mountain man life. He said the weather beating down on him had taken a toll. He said I am tired of wet socks and always smelling like a saddle blanket. Funny thing, was I hadn’t smelled a wet saddle blanket in years. The very thing he was ready to give up, I was ready to embrace.  Constantly filling gas cans and sweating for someone else. I was ready for a change.

Me and uncle Albert shook hands. I will take his mule and possibles, then go up to explore the mountains. He will take my lawn mower. He is no stranger to hard work, but this way he would have dry clothes, and a roof over his head. I mentioned to uncle Albe that living in town costs a lot of money, especially if you live in this apartment.

I said, Uncle Able, that apartment is 200 dollars a month. Living in town is really expensive. He gave me a half smile and reached into his left pants pocket. He pulled out an old white cotton sock. He peeked my interest so I asked, if his socks were wet again? He said no. Just full of gold.