I really don’t care for this time of year when it gets dark right in the middle of the afternoon.

Call it seasonal affective disorder, winter depression, hibernation or whatever you want. It seems all wrong when the sun goes behind the mountains before 5 p.m.

My ranchito is 35 acres, and it’s split between a flat pasture of about 15 acres, with another “back pasture” that borders an upscale subdivision where residents are mostly ranching “ag status” for their property taxes. The cattle tend to not be overly active grazers and so there’s quite a bit of forage left on the land.

The fence between my property and this subdivision is pretty much destroyed. The ancient cedar posts are rotted and the rusty barbed wire has been stretched and broken countless times by deer, elk and bear over the decades. Despite my attempts at repairs, the fence falls further into decay each year, and at this point it’s going to require considerable time and expense to fix it.

Because of the condition of this fence I’d declared this larger pasture a “wilderness area” in recent years and have not used it much for grazing. However, with hay availability low and prices soaring, I couldn’t ignore the grass, and began to experiment with letting my burros out to graze for short periods of the day. In the evening I’d whistle to call them back in with grain.

There were a few times I forgot to whistle until after dark. Generally I was lucky and the sound of hooves eventually gave way to their visages, trotting or galloping, their eyes bouncing in the flashlight beam. Once, I was already in bed when I remembered they were still out, and I had to get up, get dressed and go out looking for them. That time I found not only was my fenceline in disrepair, so was my adjacent neighbor’s. The burros had actually gone out my back fence, then crossed back onto that vacant 50-acre lot. When I arrived they took off running in the moonlight, back to the gate where I easily caught them and brought them home.

Then one night I whistled repeatedly to no response. I waited until late evening before dressing in goose down, getting out a flashlight, halter and lead rope, and heading out to search for them. It was 17 degrees, and a heavy frost had already coated the brush and grass. It sparkled in the Xenon ray as I wandered around, shining the light here and there, amazed at the dozens of eyes beaming back at me.

Unfortunately they were all eyes of deer and not burros.

Despite my disdain for early sunsets, I am somewhat a creature of the night, a trait shaped in part by years of toil as a nighttime newspaper editor. Somehow, walking around in the dark seemed a refreshing departure from the typical, with frost crystals glittering like diamonds and stars twinkling overhead. A pack of coyotes howled to a chilling crescendo in the not-so-distant distance. Deer bounded closely back and forth, confused by this strange whistling cyborg that had invaded their usually tranquil space. Their musky odor seemed suspended on the night air.

I found one burro, Redbo, on the neighboring property. I haltered and led him as I continued the search. I watched his ears for clues to his buddies’ whereabouts, but Spike, Laredo and Ace were not to be found, and it occurred to me at some point that perhaps I was out there searching for something other than burros. I finally brought Redbo home and went to bed. I had literally been out in the cold night for two hours and had found the experience way better than, say, satellite TV, Facebook and even some books I’ve read lately.

Next morning I drove the subdivision roads and spotted the other three burros carving out their own ag status about a mile as the raven flies from the back fence. However, I was not exactly free to move about the country. School was out for parent-teacher conference day, and for the parent of an autistic child, simple tasks like catching these burros can sometimes be a logistical challenge. This one, for example, involved a 30-mile U-turn to the daycare in Westcliffe.

Once back home, I left on foot through the back fence. The burros had climbed the steep, cactus-studded south-facing hillside, then taken a fairly rugged, snow-covered trail through the timber on the north side. I found them near the place I’d seen them earlier in the morning. When I approached they galloped away at high speed.

I jogged after them until they reached a crossfence and turned along it. I finally gained an angle on the critters, but there was a break in that fence and Spike and Laredo passed through. Luckily, I was able to get between them and Ace, and eventually got the paint burro stopped and haltered.

There was a subdivision road nearby and I had the idea of trying to drive the other two burros ahead of Ace, loose-herding them homeward. This worked. For a while. Then Spike and Laredo took a sharp righthand turn off the road and struck out cross-country at a lope. The clock, it seemed, was running, too.

Clearly outnumbered, outrun and outsmarted, I jogged Ace back home, then went back after Spike and Laredo. But they had disappeared again by the time I returned. I had now run out of time and needed to get to the parent-teacher conference.

The conference followed a previous meeting about Harrison’s IEP (Individualized Education Plan) that had brought the usual soul-searching about geography, jobs, real estate, special schools . . . money. Tuition at the Temple Grandin School, for example, is $20,000 — multiply that by 10 or 12 years. In the final analysis, we are pretty much where we are, for now.

At the conference we were thrilled to learn Harrison got three A’s on his report card. The D in math, his favorite subject, may seem mystifying to those who don’t understand how it’s often difficult to assess his understanding of anything through conventional assignments and tests.

When I got back from the second U-turn it was nearly dark, and by now there had been a couple friendly phone calls about the free-ranging burros. Mary could now hold down the fort while I went out to retrieve them. I easily found Spike and Laredo grazing alongside the subdivision road about a mile from home. I walked right up to Spike and haltered him. We jogged home in the early evening darkness with Laredo following all the way. I stopped at the front gate and looked at the new stars.

A slight hint of sunset was still hanging on the Western sky, and a fresh breeze was on the air. It was too early for sundown but at least I was outside. In about a month the days would be noticeably longer. The back fence could wait until I get to it.

Photo by Miles F. Porter IV

Bill’s accident has brought a flurry of attention. Check out the spot on Denver’s 9News, and also a column by my mentor in journalism, Miles F. Porter IV in the Summit Daily with quotes from yours truly.

While Bill’s condition improves, his ranch and animals need your help. Please send a donation — even $5 will be a great help — to: Carol Lee, Laughing Valley Ranch, P. O. Box 1810, Idaho Springs, CO 80452.

On another topic, my friend Phil Maffetone has released his new music video, “Barefoot in America,” along with an article about improving the health of your feet. Take your shoes off and give it a read.

Santa Claus (Bill Lee) and Frisco Mayor Bill Pelham. Photo by Miles F. Porter IV.

My friend and fellow pack-burro racer Bill Lee had a bad accident Friday and is in intensive care in Denver. Please send positive vibes and prayers for his recovery. Also, his wife Carol is in great need of help with their ranch animals — burros, reindeer, horses, llamas, goats, cows.

If you can help out with any funds for feed, please send a check to Carol Lee, Laughing Valley Ranch, P. O. Box 1810, Idaho Springs, CO 80452.

It’s important to make the check out to Carol as Bill cannot endorse a check at this time.

A gift of just $5 from each Hardscrabble Times reader would buy many bales of hay for the animals at Bill and Carol’s Laughing Valley Ranch.

If you can board an animal please contact me through comments.

Bill is the Denver Mall “Santa Claus” each holiday season and he’s also president of the Western Pack-Burro Association. Many also know Bill as “Redtail the Mountain Man.”

I bought Spike from Bill back in the mid-90s and won four World Championship Pack-Burro Races at Fairplay and several other races with this burro.

From what I understand, Bill was taking a horse to the vet. His truck started rolling. In trying to stop the truck he was caught under a wheel and his chest was crushed.

After a disappointing pack-burro racing season last summer, I knew if I wanted to stay with the sport I’d need to do something about my animal situation. Clearly, I’d reached the limits with Laredo, who’d been my main partner these past few years. Despite winning two World Championships Laredo has some physical limitations on the long, high-altitude courses at Fairplay and Leadville. I began to think in terms of bringing Spike out of retirement, knowing that he won four world Championships, and could probably still outrun the current winning times. This is still an option. Then Vicki Livingston suggested I give a burro out of her herd a try. This burro, whom I’m calling Cash shows a lot of promise with a quick, long trot, and plenty of go. I believe him to be a great grandson of the first burro I ever ran, Moose. Cash still needs a lot of training before I could consider him race-worthy, but check out this video I made during a recent training run with him.

This 160-page book, illustrated with full-color graphics and photographs, is a handy reference for donkey owners and also should be on the shelves of veterinarians who treat these animals. Some information, like drug doses and the use of radiography and ultrasounds, is clearly intended for veterinary use only.

In my 30-year association with donkeys, I’ve noticed most vets apply horse medicine practices when treating these animals. However, while donkeys are equines, Purdy documents some genetic, anatomical and medical differences owners and veterinarians should consider. He also notes that donkeys may metabolize some drugs at different rates than horses.

Purdy opens with terminology and an overview and history of donkeys in both the U.S. and the rest of the world. While noting that most donkeys in the United States are now pets, the author makes a point of the importance of donkeys to families and economies in Third World countries. Purdy states there are 90 million working donkeys (other estimates put the figure around 44 million) in non-industrialized countries.

An entire chapter is devoted to the nutritional requirements of donkeys, which through evolution have developed a more efficient metabolism than horses. For this reason, idle donkeys generally tend to become overweight or obese when fed too much high-quality forages and feeds. A nice addition to future editions of this book would be a section about how to properly feed hardworking donkeys for performance.

The author devotes considerable attention to herd health, parasites and diseases. One refreshing aspect is the recommendation that donkey owners use sound management practices, testing and selective deworming rather than wholesale treatment with anti-parasitics, which can lead to drug-resistant parasites. Purdy also details the digestive and musculoskeletal systems, and the differences in these between donkeys and horses.

Nearly one-third of the book is devoted to reproduction, artificial insemination, pregnancy and foaling. While this information is very important for breeders and veterinarians, many donkey owners will find this material useful only as general interest or background information.

One point of reproductive health that does affect a large number of donkey owners is castration. Intact male donkeys can be aggressive and unpredictable. Unless you intend to use your stud donkey in a breeding program, or have some other specific reason to keep him intact, it’s generally advisable to have him gelded. This book details the procedure.

Moreover, Purdy notes something important about castration that I have learned with experience along with my veterinarians — it’s best for the veterinarian to ligate the vascular cord with a suture rather than using an emasculator, as is standard when castrating a horse. Donkeys have larger scrotal blood vessels than a horse and are more prone to excessive bleeding following castration. This point cannot be overstated, as I have had two donkeys bleed excessively following castration, and one friend actually lost a donkey due to blood loss after castration.

This point about castration illustrates the value in this book as a donkey-specific resource for health and veterinary care. Dr. Purdy has given us something the donkey world has been lacking — a sound guide for owners and veterinarians in caring for these wonderful and in many cases, hardworking, animals.

“You need to read “Wild Burro Tales” to discover why Hal Walter is the poet laureate of pack burros, and why pack burros deserve their own poet. For the same reason we’re lucky that Jack London went to Alaska and Hemingway took a fancy to bullfights, we got a break when a writer of Walter’s talents decided to immerse himself in the weird and wonderful world of pro burro racing. Not only does Walter capture all the drama of “the longest, highest, roughest, toughest test of man and beast” where “a big animal gets in the way of a big ego,” he also pays as much respect to the scrappy old miners who created the sport as the blazing young newcomers who are redefining it. No one knows more about this unique partnership of complex animals and extraordinary athletes than Walter, and it’s hard to imagine a writer who could describe it better.”

— Christopher McDougall

Author of New York Times Best-Seller “Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen”

How to get a copy of “Wild Burro Tales”:

• Available at The Book Mine in Leadville, The Hand Hotel in Fairplay, the Book Haven in Salida, Candy’s Coffee and Westcliffe Super Market in Westcliffe, and The Bookery in Pueblo.

• Order a signed copy directly from me.

• Order from amazon.com.

• Order from Creastespace:https://www.createspace.com/3438422.

There’s a reason the book has been on the NYT Best-Seller list for months — it’s because it’s a great read. A good part of the story is devoted to tracking down and explaining the almost mythical Caballo Blanco who lives much of his time among the Tarahumara, or Raramuri, people in the Copper Canyon country of Mexico.

I had to go on no such search to find Caballo. All I had to do was drive an hour to the Bill and Julie Canterbury Ranch near Howard, and I already knew how to get there. Caballo appeared there Friday ready to try his hand at pack-burro racing. This was Caballo’s first introduction to the sport prior to running the Leadville’s Boom Days race next Sunday, though he’s seen plenty of burros in Copper Canyon, and hires them out to pack gear on tours that he guides there.

Caballo is also no stranger to long-distance running — that’s mostly what he does, and he’s competed in countless ultramarathons, including the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon, which he organizes.

This venture into pack-burro racing was arranged through Roger Pedretti, brother of the late Rob Pedretti, my close friend whom I wrote about in my book, “Wild Burro Tales.” Roger took up pack-burro racing as a tribute to Rob following his death, and now travels from Wisconsin each summer to run in the races.

It seems Roger struck up a friendship with Caballo over Facebook (go figure – Caballo has nearly 2,000 Facebook “friends”), and talked him into checking out pack-burro racing. Of course Caballo needed a decent burro, and so Roger contacted me and I decided to set him up with Spike, who has actually won the Leadville race a couple times. Spike, by the way, is black.

So we met at Cantebury’s for a training run, up the Howard Creek road. Basically we just ran uphill about three miles and then back to the ranch. Caballo did well keeping Spike moving uphill, but on the way back down Spike managed to get away from him a couple times.

After the run I asked Caballo how he’s coping with the newfound fame brought about by the book. He said that he has mixed emotions about it, and that he’s “trying to keep it real” by channeling the energy into helping the Raramuri people sustain their culture.

Last year the race he organizes brought in 100,000 pounds of corn for the Tarahumara, and $14,000 in prizes. In fact every Raramuri who finishes his race is awarded 500 pounds of corn. But Caballo wants to do more. He’s traveling the country doing speaking engagements in hopes of raising more awareness about the Tarahumara. And he’s contemplating a book of his own.

Apparently Caballo and Roger have a couple more training runs scheduled next week to give him more opportunity to get acquainted with Spike. It’ll be interesting to see how they do at Boom Days next weekend.

My little jab at the Literary Industrial Complex — Wild Burro Tales – Thirty Years of Haulin’ Ass — is now available. I released the book Sunday at the World Championship Pack-Burro Race in Fairplay.

While the race itself was a real challenge — my burro Laredo was sour on the competition — the book was well received.

This collection of stories had its origins in my adventures on the Western Pack-Burro Racing circuit. But it grew to include a fascination with equus asinus, my exploration of using these animals as backcountry packers and saddle donkeys, and as therapeutic riding animals for my son Harrison.

The book contains a few selections from my original book Pack-Burro Stories, some of which have been reworked. In addition, there are several more essays and short stories that I have written in more recent years.

I was fortunate to have local artist Lorie Merfeld-Batson provide pen-and-ink drawings to accompany some of the stories. Several photographer friends provided some great photos. I am thankful to all who helped bring the stories to life with these images.

I’m also extremely grateful for Mary Lyn Koval’s editing expertise.

I’ve written about many of my adventures with burros over the years, but producing this book has been another all-consuming experience in and of itself. For now, signed copies are available directly from me. Send $18 ($15, plus $3 shipping and handling) to Hal Walter, 307 Centennial Dr., Westcliffe, CO 81252.

Mel and Ace.

Kendra brought Mel and Rob here to check out pack-burro running. They were introduced to Ace, Redbo and Laredo. And everyone got to run with every burro except Rob, who served as the official photographer for the outing and somehow missed out on his chance to run with Ace. Rob has a good eye with a camera.

We took a jaunt through Bear Bones Ranch and then through the school section to see if we could locate our cows, but the cattle were hiding in the brush. Then we cut over through Bear Basin Ranch for some cross-country, trails and double-track dirt roads.

In the end we had put in two hours of running. All the donkeys and people had good workouts. It was decided that Ace is the most steady, but in the end Mel pulled away with Laredo and got back here first.

Back at the Out There Pack-Burro Ranchito we enjoyed fresh salads before they headed back to civilization. I hope to see them all back here soon.

Photos by Rob Hering.