The unexpected thrill of mules and one man's devotion to his "big blonds"
By Karen L. Kirsch

Perhaps no animal is more misunderstood, maligned and underappreciated than the long-eared mule. So why would a savvy, successful cattleman go to the lengths J. Mack Bohn of Cyril has gone to promote the lowly (in some eyes) draft mule?

Simply stated, “big blonds,” as he calls them, and the American agricultural history they represent are his passion. But until about nine years ago, Bohn’s mule experience was limited to photographs and stories from his grandfather and father.

“I’m fourth generation agriculture and darned proud of it,” he explains. “Many years ago I saw a picture of my great-granddad with sixteen head of mules, hooked in four rows of four abreast, moving one of his threshing machines. Since then I dreamed of someday owning a heavy hitch.”

His dream never died, even though other things always seemed to take priority. After graduating with an engineering degree from Purdue, he got into the grain elevator design and construction business and had a very successful career.

But he wasn’t happy. Following a trip to Texas Bohn knew he wanted to raise cattle, so he sold his construction company and followed that dream.

Today, Bohn, who has been a life-long member of various electric cooperatives, runs one of the biggest Brangus cow/calf operations in the country. With 50,000 acres and around 4,500 cattle, he already had plenty to occupy his time and energy, but his life took a serendipitous turn when he received a call from a fellow in Kentucky who was interested in buying some cows. As it turned out, the man’s son raised big draft mules, and the rest, as they say, is history. Bohn was smitten with the size, conformation and great dispositions of the Belgian blond sorrel mules he met in Kentucky.

“Draft mules pretty much don’t exist out here in my country,” he says, “but virtually all southern agriculture had been performed by mules, and I felt that their contribution to America had been terribly overlooked.”
 
A Place in History

Indeed, mules have made enormous contributions to the development of the country, but rather than being praised for their sacrifices, they are laughed at, ridiculed or accused of being the one thing they are not—stubborn.

For anyone who doesn’t know, mules are the hybrid offspring of a horse mare and a donkey jack (stud). The mare can be any breed, but the jack needs to be of compatible size. Bohn’s mules are the progeny of very big Belgian mares and an American Mammoth Jackstock donkey, which is classified by the American Livestock Breed Conservancy as a “threatened” breed.

Mules are inquisitive, sensitive and have a strong survival instinct. Equine IQ tests rank them second only to donkeys.

While mules get their athletic ability from the horse, they get their strength and intellect from the donkey.

George Washington recognized the agricultural and industrial potential of mules, but not until King Charles III of Spain gave him four donkeys did the mule get a real foothold.

By 1900 America had over six million of the long-ears. They worked in the fields and forests, they pulled canal boats, they packed heavy loads for the military, broke trails into the Western frontier and worked in mines, just to name just a few of the humble equines’ many contributions. By 1950, like most draft animals replaced by tractors, they fell from favor and were sent to slaughter by the thousands. Fortunately, their numbers have rebounded as renewed awareness of their versatility and dependability has increased. Bohn’s exhibition hitch is contributing to this public education.

A Good Day to Die
 
“I always thought that being in the middle of a great cutting horse was about the ultimate thrill,” Bohn says. “Not until I climbed up behind an 8-up did I realize that they posed a much greater, but different, kind of thrill.”

Since he had never driven any type of hitch, he had a lot of work to do. It’s a foolish person who undertakes driving without serious preparation, but he was fortunate to have two excellent teamsters who advised and taught him not only how to drive, but how to understand this unique species. Vernon Cornett, who trains Bohn’s mules, advised him from the start that it was important to earn the mules’ respect, but to never give them reason to fear him.

 “When working with them it becomes obvious that they rationalize things before acting, and they comprehend and remember much more than even some of the best horses I’ve had occasion to work with,” he says.

His foreman, Bob Gardner, has worked with draft horses his entire life and has managed some well-known hitches.

“Mules are simply smarter and require a different attitude and respect,” Gardner says.

Because of good teachers and good mules, Bohn’s experience so far has been safe and enjoyable, but he’s had some tense moments. Even after six months of tutelage with experts, there was still that “first time” he took the lines.

He’s not ashamed to acknowledge his apprehension: “The first time I drove the big hitch, in all honestly I think I felt it might be a good day to die. I'm not joking about that.”

He had made the training transition from four to six mules, but when it came to hitching up eight powerful animals fear set in.

“I was scared as hell to look out over 56-feet of them in front of the wagon and realize what all could go wrong,” Bohn says. “Fortunately, God was obviously helping me as we pulled it off in grand style. When I climbed down off the wagon I was absolutely wrung out, both physically as well as emotionally. Undoubtedly one of the greatest experiences of my life, but I was glad it was over for the day.”

Nine years later he remains cautious.

“After all these years, having the full 8-up out in front keeps me on edge,” Bohn says. “Regardless of how good they are, big hitches have the potential to be quite dangerous. After all, mules are flight animals when scared. The first time you take them for granted could certainly be your last. There's so much to look at and do, especially when doing fancy exhibitions.”

Big Blonds on Display

Mules themselves aren’t that rare, but they are usually seen in predictable settings, like plow days or mule-specific shows. Because some of J. Mack’s mules have the distinction of being the biggest in the world, he is frequently invited to appear at less-common venues. In addition to state fairs, parades and fund raisers he is a popular attraction at Kentucky Horse Park just before Derby week and at Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri. Bohn is always glad for the exposure.

“Contrary to what movies and television project, mules played a tremendous role in the development of America,” he says. “They were the backbone of southern agriculture and the subsequent westward movement of the country. Little had been done in the way of significant investment in showcasing outstanding mules, so I made the decision to change all that.”

To say his dedication represents a “significant investment” is an understatement. He estimates that upkeep runs around $1,000 per day. Animals each weighing over a ton eat a lot—about 22 pounds of grain and 45 pounds of hay daily. They also require a specialized farrier who understands that trimming and shoeing mules is different from shoeing horses.

Then there’s the cost of harness, the wagon, the crew and transportation, not to mention basic vet care.

“I’m an adamant believer in historical correctness, thus all of our harness is high quality leather,” Bohn explains. “We pull a show version of an old time freight wagon. I considered having a large wooden tank wagon, as mules were used extensively in the Oklahoma oil fields, but many people just wouldn’t relate to it without a lot of questions.”

Add to this a five man crew plus two custom semi-trucks used to transport everything and it’s easy to see how $1,000 a day is probably a conservative cost estimate for the hitch, which is not a money-maker by any stretch. The mules are totally funded by Bohn’s cattle operation.

The hitch name also draws a lot of attention, but it all comes back around to Bohn’s cattle. Breeds with Brahman influence (Brangus, Beefmasters and Santa-Gertrudis) have droopy ears and are referred to as having “a touch of ear.”

“One day it just dawned on me that our claim to fame in the cattle business was having superior ‘eared cattle,’” he says.
“With the beautiful ears of my blonds being one of their very distinguishing trademarks, it struck me that they needed to be identified as also having ‘A Touch of Ear.’”

Bohn says he does what he does because he can’t bear to see the mules’ role in history go unnoticed, so he patiently answers questions like, “What kind of horses are those?” It gives him a chance to champion America’s rural heritage and bring smiles to others.

“I think the biggest challenge I see is the declining image of those of us in agriculture,” Bohn says. “I devote a lot of time to reminding folks that American agriculture is still the best there is.”

He worries about a society growing increasingly distant from its rural roots. In a way, his long-eared agricultural ambassadors have come full circle. A hundred years ago far less pampered mules were preparing the soil to grow food.

Today Bohn’s fancy big blonds remind those who see them that no matter how much things have changed, food isn’t produced in the back room at Wal-Mart.