Wild Burro Tales: Thirty Years of Haulin’ Ass
By Hal Walter
Out There Publishing, 2010
Reviewed by Teresa Cutler-Broyles
“Hang on. Don’t let go.”
So Hal Walter tells us in Wild Burro Tales, his wonderful new collection that takes us on a wild ride through the exciting and overlooked sport of pack-burro racing, and his life with the creatures that give it all meaning.
At first glance the book appears to be, simply, about burros and the relatively obscure and unusual sport of running marathon distances partnered with an animal not known for its cooperative nature. Indeed, the stories – 19 in all, punctuated with brief asides that take on a life of their own in their ability to hit hard – are ostensibly about Walter’s experiences with pack-burro racing and the people and animals who make the sport what it is. For anyone interested in knowing the facts – where pack-burro racing originated, why it continues today, what sorts of skills and hardships are encompassed – Wild Burro Tales certainly delivers. And Walter touches on Wild West legend as well as hard 20th century reality as he opens that world for us.
If that’s all Wild Burro Tales was it would be a great read, but it is so much more. The tales that take us with Walter as he races through the years and over mountain passes with loved friends, both two- and four-legged, also take us through hardship and a certain mystical wonder. Walter’s book, in fact, is an intricate weaving together of real life adventures and a search for a certain timelessness we find ourselves yearning for as we catch glimpses of its truth throughout.
In one of the short vignettes, Walter narrates a race he ran with Spike in 2004, a race that followed a year of both joy and despair. The 29-mile saga is background in this case for the solitude Walter feels as he contemplates the loss of a friend and the birth of his son. He and Spike are alone when they reach the summit at the halfway point – yet connected to all life through the presence of a raven, the bird of life and death. “On the way back down the mountain I stopped to kiss my baby son’s cheek … . Blue sky. Black raven. Some things do endure.”
Moments like this arrive unexpectedly in Walter’s work – one instant it’s a story about a race in Fairplay, Colorado, or a pack trip in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and the next it’s a contemplation of the thread that underlies and connects us all to what really matters. When he tells us about throwing a friend’s ashes to the wind during a race, or when we feel the last breaths of a beloved burro during the Winter Solstice, our heart catches and we forget it’s not our hands covered with ash, or resting against rough hair. The people and creatures we meet are so real they become part of us as their lives – and sometimes their deaths – unfold. The gift Walter gives us is the realization that we can all find those adventures no matter where we live.
Walter finishes his book the way he starts it – talking about his burro Spike. At the beginning, Spike literally pulls him off his feet, just as this book does, starting the exciting ride that will end only when we decide to let go. Essentially what we learn is that life is full of wild rides, and the best way to get through it is to hitch yourself to something you love and let momentum and trust and a hell of a lot of luck carry you over the summit to the finish line.
