And now to the meat of our trip.
Meet this little guy.
Because the absolute best way to get up a roadless mountain pass? Half-ass it. My new friend for the next few days is known as Punch (also Punchito and Tiny Dancer. He lives up to both halves of Tiny Dancer).
The trip was called the Triple Pass Ride, and they didn't believe in warm-up days. Straight up Mono Pass (simultaneous with a number of Miwuk and other natives doing their annual walk on what was one of the their major trade routes. The pack station was providing stock support for them).
And straight down Mono Pass into...
...you guessed it...
...a raging hailstorm. Punch put his ears in the specific mule position for "I Hate This Weather" and got me down safely. These were trails I wouldn't have thought a horse (and yes, some of us had horses) could manage, but everyone was okay. If wet. It had stopped by the time we made it to camp, or we rode out of it.
Sierras. Hail. It's a thing.
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