by Kelli Bowen
Sometimes Hubby and I joke that our best work is done impromptu. I think some of our best stories are from wandering off the beaten path.
On our last epic roadtrip, I booked our first Harvest Host, which makes a person feel a bit like they may potentially be opening themselves up to axe murderers, but I’m writing this, so spoiler-alert: we lived.
Not only did we live, we found ourselves enjoying the best hospitality and nothing short of a magical night. Flash back a few years, and we were in Medora over Independence Day. We took in the parade and a local business was handing out beef sticks instead of candy! I mean, the way to our hearts is meat.
We looked into the company and they’re a handful of miles from Medora and we didn’t get a chance to go check them out in person, but they were always on our radar. Flash forward to Hubby’s Christmas gift, a Harvest Host membership, and we’re looking through hosting options and THERE is the cattle ranch who handed us beef sticks! Obviously, this was happening.
On our annual trek to Medora, I reached out to the ranch, they said “Come on down!” and down we came. First off: the ranch was down several miles of scoria roads, no pavement princesses allowed. We hear that’s a deterrent for some. We saw this as a plus!
We snaked through some of the greatest Badlands scenery for miles and then found ourselves at an unmarked ranch. A woman with a big smile and her cattle dog along with a cowboy riding bicycle came to the road to greet us, and I knew we were going to have a memory-inducing time.
To the THRILL of Miss A, the ranchers had their granddaughter spending the night, and both girls were the same age. For the next 16 hours the girls were thick as thieves. We had granddaughter over to our camper for dinner and snacks and she took our girls on a tour of the ranch and to meet the horses…oh the horses! Miss E was in Heaven. “Mom do you think we can PET the horses???” The owner smiled and said “Absolutely!” The rest of the day, Miss E was found petting, or watching for, the horses.
Upon check-in we were told that “Happy Hour is on the porch at 7:30,” so not wanting to be uncooperative guests, we mixed ourselves drinks and wandered over to porch. We sat with the ranchers, a couple from Florida and a couple from Texas. Tales were told about the history of the land, the people, and the ranch. Then the diverse group started telling their own tales.
As the stories went on, jokes started, laughter roared, and drinks were freshened again, and again, the stars came out and painted the night sky with such intensity, you wondered if the same stars shine over the rest of the state that were twinkling down upon us in the Badlands.
The later the night stretched, the more people we lost to their bunks: starting with the children, then one couple, then another, each person retired to their camper or room with happy and blessed hearts. Hubby and I were the last-folks-standing, swapping tales with the proprietor on the front deck while the Milky Way shone above us and the coyotes sang over a distant butte.
The proprietor had story after story about everything from farming through the 1980s to rubbing elbows with Hollywood filmmakers. Being in the presence of someone who has lived such a huge, colorful, and interesting life is humbling. It makes a person feel gobsmacked and so lucky for the experience.
Hubby leaned over at one point in the night and said, “We ain’t topping this” and I agreed. The Cowboy told how his father decades earlier had tried to dissuade his son from ranching. The Cowboy explained to his dad how he needed to own his own destiny and he felt he owned his sunrises and sunsets working for himself and setting his own goals on the ranch.
As we sat there with Terry Mountain to our east and another name-unknown butte to the west, a few decades and a couple states later, the Cowboy now sits on his front porch on his sprawling ranch, where he can watch both the sunrise and sunset.
From a chance meeting after an Independence Day parade, to a star-soaked sky filled with great conversation and fellowship. Hubby and I are still convinced our best stories come from straying off the beaten path and we hope to keep chasing our sunrises and sunsets for many years to come.
Kelli makes her home in Cass County with her husband, two daughters (10 and 7) and two dogs. She works for a regional seed company by day and tries to be an alright mom, wife, friend and writer by night.
Other popular posts from Kelli: