Few things ground me like the smell of freshly planed wood or a sun-warmed saddle. Both promise hard work and quiet satisfaction. Each time I smooth a piece of raw lumber or saddle up for a ride into the high country, I’m reminded about how much wood and equines have in common. They are each shaped by nature, each with its own personality, quirks, and strengths. The years that I’ve spent woodworking and camping with horses and mules have taught me lessons in patience, resilience, and the value of slowing down to appreciate life’s details.
Osage orange, for instance. As a wood, it’s rugged and unyielding, with a toughness that tests even the sharpest of tools. It reminds me of Ruger, my dependable backcountry mule—no-nonsense, durable, and built to survive. Osage orange may lack the refinement of other woods, but its golden core shines as steady as a sunrise. It’s the same with Ruger. I trust him wholeheartedly on rough trails miles from the nearest trailhead. Ruger and Osage orange aren’t showy, but their strength and endurance make them invaluable companions in the wilderness and the shop.
Refinement finds its parallel in Walnut, the aristocrat of the woodshop. Its rich, dark grain takes on a lustrous polish with care, much like the smooth, refined movement of an Icelandic horse. Walnut isn’t just beautiful; it’s versatile and dependable. Walnut can be crafted into anything from fine furniture to keepsakes. In either situation, it performs with grace. Walnut reminds me of Minning, the horse who turns heads at the trailhead and carries my wife smoothly wherever she wants to go. Walnuts and horses like Minning bring a timeless class to everything they touch, whether it’s a crafted piece or a long ride.
A vibrant spark bursts from Padauk, a wood with a bold and fiery personality. Padauk bursts with life. Its vibrant orange-red color and dramatic grain are impossible to ignore. It’s the woodworking equivalent of an Arabian horse or a high-energy mule like Cocoa, whose flair for drama commands attention on the trail. Padauk demands skill and patience in the workshop, much like how Cocoa keeps me on my toes in the saddle. These are the partners who push your boundaries, reward your efforts, and spark unforgettable moments—their brilliance lies in their vibrancy and the energy they bring to every journey.
Yet, for quiet dependability, I consistently return to Maple and Ellie, my trusty all-rounder mule. Neither is showy, but their quiet strength and unwavering reliability make them irreplaceable partners. Maple is the wood I reach for when I need something reliable, just as Ellie is ready for any job—whether it’s hauling packs or carrying me down a winding trail. Neither is dramatic. Both are quietly beautiful, embodying the kind of strength that’s easy to take for granted but impossible to replace.
Appreciation for individuality is key in my woodshop and in my herd. In my shop, each species of wood brings its own personality to the bench. Some are cooperative, others stubborn. Some types are straightforward, while other species demand careful handling. The same is true with the horses and mules I’ve known over the years. Like a board, each animal is unique, full of quirks and character. Whether it’s the critter who needs a moment to size up a bridge before crossing or the mule who knows when I need encouragement, they teach me to approach each relationship with patience and understanding.
Nothing compares to the lessons in patience and trust that woodworking and with my mules have taught me. Both pursuits have taught me to appreciate the deliberate process of building trust. A rough-sawn board doesn’t become a finished piece overnight. It takes time to read the grain, smooth the edges, and bring out its natural beauty. Similarly, a horse or mule only reveals its full potential with time and patience. You can’t rush the bond, but if you’re willing to put in the work, the rewards are immeasurable.
As I shape a piece of rough lumber in my shop or ride my mule down a narrow mountain trail, I’m continually reminded how much these simple pleasures enrich my life. Both pursuits remind me to slow down and stay present. When I’m sanding a piece of Walnut or packing camp into a remote mountain lake, I’m connected to something bigger. A partnership with the natural world. Both wood and equines are gifts shaped by wind, water, and history, they ground us in the moment with their quiet wisdom.
For more of my thoughts on trail riding and camping with horses, as well as resources and tips, visit TrailMeister.com. Or pick up a copy of my best-selling book, The ABCs of Trail Riding and Horse Camping, on Amazon.