Now that I am more awake, I think I have come up with a reasonable explanation as to why this sort of thing (the lack of costs and rules for "mundane" equipment and such) irritates some folks, myself included.
Those of you who are against the codification of some things seem to be coming at this from the idea that such "little things" don't matter. After all, if you're playing a character who regularly goes toe-to-toe with minor deities (or whatever else high-level 4e throws at you, I don't have much experience with epic tier), the cost of a mule or 10-foot poles is going to be irrelevant to you. Understandable, as it probably should be. Tracking your treasure to the silver, at those levels, is just tedium.
The problem, however, is that there are some folk who don't go to those extremes. The idea of playing a character for whom every silver counts is, for some, more interesting than playing Superman; that's not a knock on those who prefer playing high-powered characters, it's an accurate characterization.
"Sweating the small stuff" is, for some people, more interesting than playing a high-powered demigod. For myself, I have to ask - what's the point in playing a character that can level cities? How can I even begin to relate to such a character? Such a being doesn't exist in the real world. Their experiences and their interactions with other people are going to be so completely alien to me that I can't even begin to fathom it.
However, I could - and I stress "could" very heavily - if I wanted, go pick up a 10-foot pole at the local Fleet Farm, pick up a hammer or similar heavy instrument, and head into my city's sewers looking for giant rats to slay. Sane and reasonable, probably not - but it is certainly within my power to imagine doing so. Playing a character who does so is entertaining to me because it is something I could possibly do, and thus allows me to entertain the idea of doing so without actually doing it.
You can go ahead and claim, "but there's magic and dragons and all sorts of nonsensical things" all you like, but there are generally reasonable analogues in the real world to these things. Fireball? Flamethrowers or grenades. Magical healing? Modern medicine sure as heck seems like magic, sometimes, to a layman such as myself. Teleport? I've seen Star Trek, and while it might not be reasonable at the moment, the technology has passed into the mainstream such that it's not that far-fetched to imagine a world in which it exists.
But you start getting into the crazy high-powered world of fighting deities, fending off entire armies by yourself... I mean, that stuff if not just beyond my personal experience, it is nigh-improbable if not straight-up impossible. I can relate to a character who wanders around with a sword fighting bandits, because that is something that I could, if I really wanted to, go out and do right now. I can't relate to a character that modifies the world on a whim with a single word, or who can fight deities.
Some people seem to hate on the "dreary tedium" that is lower levels, but you know what? Even that dreary tedium that a 1st-level character engages in is something that we don't go out and do everyday. When was the last time you cracked the skull of a goblin with a club, or fought a bunch of city guards because you decided you wanted to steal stuff rather than pay for it? Yeah, it's pedestrian, and yeah, it's not epic or world-changing... but it's something you can relate to, because - if you really wanted - you could go out into the real world and actually do those things (with the trappings a bit different, but the basic idea is still the same).
Escapism, for me and those like me, is not playing a character that is so powerful and absurd that entire armies stand no chance against them. Escapism for me is playing a character that can do things that, if the world weren't what it were, I could go do. I enjoy worrying about encumbrance and donkeys and 10-foot poles because they are things that I would worry about if I were a half-crazy guy heading into a dungeon filled with critters who are more interested in eating me than having a reasonable conversation, and death-traps designed by architects of a civilization now long gone. The fantastic elements are well and good - who doesn't enjoy casting spells, or fighting dragons? - but for me, they need to be couched in the mundane in order for it to have any relevance to me at all.
For me, there is more wonder in doing things that, if I were perhaps just a touch more crazy, I would be able to do in the real world, than there is in playing a super-powered character capable of leveling cities.