Tied a short distance away, mules and horses were saddled, bridled, and waiting to carry riders up the steep, rocky trails to a base camp high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Their passengers would be dropped off, and the mules and horses would then shuffle back down the trail. The next day they would do it again. And again and again, for the entire summer's duration.

In the group, I saw two mules. I was struck by how they looked so identical; their heads in alignment, their bridles and halters the same. The repetition of these lines and shapes spoke to me of the sameness of their daily life. While for me this was a day full of adventure. For the mules it was just another day.