By Amanda Cleary Eastep

Recently, I learned to pack a mule…

I have received various responses to this activity:

“Was this for book research?”

“That’s so cool!”

“Of course you did.” (Kinda my favorite)

“Enjoy!” (From my always supportive husband)

[Chuckles, furrowed brows, silence]

My interest in mule packing began when I read about the packhorse librarians who carried books into remote areas of Eastern Kentucky during the Great Depression. That history–alongside Moody Publisher’s beginnings of book sales via horse-drawn wagon–inspired my third children’s book, Lions to the Rescue! 

Then, after the “1,000-year” flood in western NC in 2024, I volunteered with the grassroots organization 21st Century Packhorse Librarians. Once the waters receded, we loaded pickup trucks–not mules and wagons–with books and homeschool materials (and some emergency clothing supplies) to deliver to families in our mountain towns.

But weeks before those efforts–before the Red Cross or FEMA or even the National Guard arrived–disaster response teams like Mission Mules arrived. They navigated flooded waterways, washed out roadways, fallen trees, and landslides to deliver medicine, water, food, and other supplies via mules, the only way some flood victims could be reached.

I first met this team and some of their amazing animals at one of our book events where they simulated a Depression-era book delivery via mule. It was sweet to see my fourth children’s book tucked inside the pack.

At the recent workshop, four of us students gathered beneath the shade of a small grove of trees at the farm of instructor and trainer Mike, and his wife Michele, Toberer. 

I had spent time with anything equine-shaped since high school let alone keeping a mule steady while hoisting a saddle pad, sawbuck saddle, pack boxes, and bed roll onto its back and then securing everything with ropes and cinches.

My mule Unalii–ironically meaning “friend” in Cherokee–trained his big brown eye on me as if wondering whether Amanda means “dufus” in mule. But the more confident I grew in Knots & Hitches 101, the more relaxed Unalii seemed to become. (So relaxed, I needed a shovel.)

Manure jokes aside…as I listened, observed, and worked, I tried to picture Unalii navigating the kind of catastrophic conditions mules and their riders and pack leaders face during every disaster response.

Even a writer’s imagination can’t pull that off.

Was this workshop book research for me? Maybe. I have a young adult novel in mind. Actually, my newest teen short story for Brio magazine, “The Book Girl of Parson’s Creek,” comes out in the August/September issue. (Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to take the workshop before I wrote that; online research is no substitute for the scent of leather and the taste of red dust.)

Yet, more than gathering story fodder, I wanted a deeper understanding of what these amazing people and animals do to help others. But saddling a mule beneath the shade on a beautiful spring day doesn’t compare to saddling a powerful beast and leading a string of them up a mountain with mud beneath you and cracking limbs overhead…and with your life, your mules’, and other people’s in the balance.

Still, I learned a lot about resiliency, sacrifice, and faith by simply sitting with Mike and my fellow students around the picnic table on our lunch break and sharing stories.

Aside from “doing,” stories are–and always will be–one of the best ways to learn about others and ourselves.

FOR A CHANCE TO WIN a copy of Brio magazine (August/September) for your teen reader, subscribe to my Book Leaves author newsletter by July 31, 2026.