or perhaps iTunes on AppleTV.... but my grandkids have seen it and I can't them ALL to agree to watch it again with me; I have NOT seen it.
Did you see Jungle Book, the new one? I have not, my family RAVED about it... best in years, according to them.
Ok, switching up on ya here... I watched a documentary today called, "Unbranded"... it's about a group of guys who adopt some mustangs, train them, then ride them from Mexico to Canada. Now I'm not going to tell you this is a 'good' documentary... what I am going to tell you is this type of 'adventure' is right up my alley. I was riveted.
Also... and you should stop reading now because this could get long, (just occurred to me to add this)..... it reminded me of an 'adventure' I took once, with 3 friends.
Back in the 70's 3 friends and I decided to ride from the valley, where we live, across the Coast Range Mtn's to the coast. About 90 miles as the crow flies but our trail would be nearer 140 miles. We rode our horses daily to get them 'in shape'. I'm not going to bore you with all the tales that came out of that ride which included, our horses getting away during the biggest storm to ever hit the Coast Range, (we had no rain gear), me and my horse falling head over heels down a hillside about 300', I'm just going to tell you the 'donkey story'.
We needed a pack mule, we didn't have one. Another friend, however, had a donkey... we borrowed him. We put some pack saddles on him and loaded our gear, which included 27 small bottles, pints I think, of peppermint schnapps... don't ask me why I remember it was '27', I have no answer for that. On a bright and sunny morning we trailered the horses, and donkey, to the edge of the foothills and embarked on our journey. First night out the 'storm' hit... but as I said - I'm not telling the storm story it just relates to the 'donkey story'.
The next day gulches that had been dry for years were swelling into raging torrents. About mid-morning we need to cross one of these gullies. The water was rapid, about waist deep, and rising by the second, literally.
I was third to cross and it was my time to lead the donkey, with our supplies. By the time I got to mid-stream the water was nearly to the top of the donkey's back, and like a flash flood it was running so swiftly. Well, the donkey decided to commit suicide.
Half way across he quit, that was enough... went down, and under; and our supplies, including maybe 23 bottles of peppermint schnapps came out of the packs and began floating downstream. We quickly formed a plan.
Two friends, who had crossed, unmounted and ran downstream to a calmer spot and jumped in to catch as much of our gear as they could as it floated past. The other friend jumped in to help me..... save the donkey, I had his neck and head. You ever try to lift a donkey?
We had borrowed the donkey, couldn't lose him. I held his head above water, my friend helping, and began dragging him to shore... the donkey limp as a biscuit, not helping AT ALL. At shore we got him out far enough that we could lay his head down on dry ground. The two peppermint schnapps retrieving friends soon joined us and between the four of us we got him out of the gully.
Soon as his four hooves hit solid ground he stood straight up, brayed, and acted like nothing had happened. No worse for wear. Right then and there all four of us began to hate that donkey. Spent most of that afternoon covering him with blankets and rubbing him down hoping he didn't drop dead on us and then having to explain that to his owner.
Ok... so we continued our trip... failing. About two days later we called home and had a friend come up with the trailer and home we went.
The day after we got home we took the donkey back to it's owner. By then we were laughing about all that had gone wrong on our adventure, but we still weren't laughing about the donkey, we hated that donkey. We told the owner the story, all the details... each of us glowing with pride having risked our lives to save his donkey.
He listened, never said a word - - until we finished. After we finished we prepared for the 'thanks' we'd get from him. Didn't happen. He stood quite, a moment or two, looking us all in the eye in turn. Then shaking his head he looked to the sky and told us, "Idiots. Why didn't you shoot him between the eyes? That's what I woulda done".
And so ends the 'Donkey Story". I still hate that donkey. - JamesJM
