Head out for some Riding Rollicking and Wrangling
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I know for a fact that there is something called the horse gene. Scientists
haven’t identified it, but I have seen it in many people, including two
of my sisters and the herds of girls in my grade-school classes who would gallop
— not run — across the playground while whinnying and tossing imaginary
manes.
The horse gene was pretty easy to spot among most of the other guests when
my 19-year-old daughter and I visited Rock Springs and the Ponderosa, two of
Oregon’s premier guest ranches. Although we witnessed no public whinnying,
it was clear from the start that most of the guests were there for the horses.
Meriwether and I learned that if you are so inclined, you can pretty much glue
yourself to a horse all day at either place, walking on two legs only after
the horses’ saddles are removed for the night. At Rock Springs, trail
rides lasting about 2H hours are offered every morning and afternoon. At the
Ponderosa…well, let’s just say you’d better really like horses.
Having a horse gene helps when you and the horse are practically inseparable.
We visited Rock Springs Guest Ranch first. Operated by the Gill family since
1969, it’s about a three-hour drive from Portland, between Bend and Sisters,
on 2,500 acres bordering the Deschutes National Forest. The spacious lodge and
modern guest cabins are on lush lawns leading to a pond framed by lava boulders.
A short walk from the lodge is the focal point of the ranch, the horse barn.
This is where everybody congregated the first morning, eager to meet our assigned
horses, preselected according to information we had sent concerning height,
weight and equestrian experience. A team of young wranglers (mostly college
students) helped us on and then led us down forest trails in small groups.
AN INTERNATIONAL GUEST LIST
It was a good opportunity to get acquainted with some of our fellow guests.
Meriwether and I rode with Simon and Heather, who were heading back to their
native England after living in Japan. They were one of three families from England,
which is not unusual, although a typical group also includes families from Germany,
where American dude ranching is a popular vacation choice.
Simon and Heather brought their four children, ages 4 to 10, who were having
a wonderful time in Rock Springs’ superb children’s program. Every
day after breakfast, all the kids (about 15 altogether) joined their counselors
for a full day of fun activities, including frolicking in the pool and short
trail rides on gentle horses.
Meanwhile, the parents have their own fun, choosing from a wide range of activities.
There are two tennis courts, a basketball half court, a beach volleyball court,
and pool and poker tables in the lodge. Golf, whitewater rafting and fishing
on the nearby Deschutes River are easily arranged.
For me, one of the most eagerly anticipated activities was eating. The kitchen
staff prepared a sumptuous buffet feast at every meal, as well as an array of
hors d’oeuvres for cocktail hour. Every Tuesday night an adults-only gourmet
meal is served, complete with wine, while the kids get whisked off to an overnight
campout. Both the kids and the adults believe they get the best end of the deal.
Rock Springs Guest Ranch, 64201 Tyler Rd., Drawer K, Bend, OR 97701, 541-382-1957
or 800-225-3833, www.rockspringsguestranch.com.
A WORKING VACATION
For a completely different ranch experience, Meriwether and I headed over to
The Ponderosa Ranch. Just south of John Day, it’s about a six-hour drive
from Portland, four hours from Boise. It’s in the Silvies Valley in the
high desert. And I do mean high — elevation is just shy of a mile above
sea level. Sagebrush and ponderosa pines dot the hilly landscape, rabbits hop
from bush to bush, and coyotes howl their serenades at night.
But the creatures we saw most were cattle, about 3,000 of them — which
we herded ourselves. Fortunately, we had been warned that after our laid-back
Rock Springs sojourn, this would definitely be a working vacation. Guests, who
must be 18 and older, work alongside real-life cowboys from morning until late
afternoon, dismounting only for a lunch break.
There are few, if any, complaints. This is your chance to realize childhood
fantasies about leading the life of a cowboy. It’s what owner Izzy Oren
does every day. As he grew up in Israel, he kept his outlandish dream of becoming
an American cowboy to himself. In 1989, at age 43, he bought the Ponderosa and
learned cowboy skills.
In order to share his dream-come-true, four years later he built the 7,000-square-foot
log
lodge and guest cabins. Now when he howdies his guests at the hand-carved front
door, you would never guess he was not born on a horse. At 6'3", with handlebar
moustache, chaps and spurs, Izzy cuts quite the cowboy figure.
Guests come from all over the world to play cowboy for a week, some crossing
the Atlantic twice a year for the experience. When Meriwether and I were there,
however, all the other guests were from Atlanta. A mom had surprised her daughter
with a week at the Ponderosa for her 21st birthday, and brought along the girl’s
brother and three of their friends.
A NEW SET OF SKILLS
With infinite patience, Izzy and his four ranch hands taught us our cowboy skills.
We soon were able to groom and saddle our horses, and herd and sort cattle.
Depending on the time of year, some guests get in on the branding and the vaccinating.
Our main task was to round up cattle scattered over the 120,000-acre ranch in
time for a shipment later in the week.
Fortunately, all the horses are highly trained. Even if I didn’t know
what to do, my horse did.
It also helped that one of the cowboys, Shad, brought along his dog. Trained
with voice commands and whistles, the little dog scampered near the cattle’s
hooves, herding them.
My favorite activity was the sorting. That’s when horses do what’s
called “cutting” — turning, spinning, racing, screeching to
a halt — whatever it takes to separate a single cow from the herd. Every
time my horse and I outsmarted a cow, I felt like a cross between Albert Einstein
and Annie Oakley. The best part was when the cowboys said (sincerely, I believe),
“Good job. You are a big help to us.”
Following a full day on the range, an ample and delicious family-style dinner
was a welcome event. After dinner we usually retired to the bar to play pool
or darts. One evening I sat in the hot tub by the pond, watching birds flit
over the meadow as the sun set over the Aldrich Mountains.
With our ranching experiences behind us, I’m beginning to wonder if my
horse gene, once recessive, is galloping to the fore-front. I’ve even
started twirling a lariat as a hobby. That will come in handy when I become
a real cowgirl.
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