Hidden Valley Ranch
No, not the salad dressing.
Directly from Banff we were to begin our second workaway experience. Smoke filled our view as we made our way through Canada’s Glacier National Park, making us wary for the weeks to come. By the time we arrived to the small town of Little Fort, we were too late. The ferry to cross the North Thompson river was closed. Up and around it had to be, only to realize none of the driveways were numbered…We thought it was going to be another E. Carlson adventure at this point.
Luckily, a friendly farmer down the way helped us out and we pulled into Michelle’s property just in time for dinner. Gathered around a big table stacked high with sloppy joes and salad sat the people we would be spending the next month with. Michelle, cowgirl extraordinaire and owner of the ranch. Len, a 80-year-old farmer who Michelle has adopted as family and who lives in a separate house on the property. Len, Michelle’s boyfriend who lives on the ranch with his two boys, Colton and Kayden. Yasmin, a young woman from Denmark who lives on the ranch as well and trains the horses.
The sloppy joes were made from a cow they raised themselves and the salad was fresh from the garden.
It was like love at first sight.
In the summer, Michelle works down the road at a resort, so we were left to the mercy of the two boys and Yasmin. They showed us the ropes. Daily chores that always included feeding the chickens, lambs, and horses. Such a short sentence for a rather tedious and time consuming task.
The chicken and lambs were easy enough. A quick scoop of food out in their respective enclosures and water refills. The horses were a different story. They were let out of the pens each evening to graze in the pastures and sleep overnight. So we were left to wrangle them all in each morning, separate them into two pens, and make sure they ate all of their specific food. Once they had eaten, we had to dress their fly bites and put fly spray and masks on them. Not to mention one of the horses was in a completely different pasture that had to be brought to a completely separate pen on another part of the property. If done alone, you were timely if you finished in 45 minutes.
Some days, we took a break after the main chores were done and then popped out again to see how else we could improve and help out on the ranch. These varied day to day and often appeared on a list left by Michelle before she went to work. I loved it. There are few things I love more than checking things off of a list.
Some of our tasks included:
Building and paneling the hay shed
Tending the garden and watering the plants
Random cleaning here and there (chicken coop, common areas, barn, etc.)
Basic lawn care and landscaping
Painting and staining bits and pieces
Moving the lamb pens every week or so
Creating a kitten enclosure
Learning/implementing the irrigation system
Watering the pasture
Building/repairing the fence line
Len would get up each morning and irrigate the hay fields and taught us their system. 80 years old and he still gets up early each morning to see what needs to be done or how he can help. Inspiring, funny, and always willing to share his stories, Len quickly became a close friend to both Scott and me. Each evening, Len would come down from his house on the hill on his quad with his australian shepherd, Millie, on his heels. We’d grab him a beer, sit down, and enjoy his company throughout the evening.
Dinner was served each night by someone in the house. We all love to cook, and it was clear by the empty plates left behind that we were all pretty decent at it. From jambalaya to shepherd’s pie, enchiladas to beet salad, lasagna to tacos, each meal we ate at the ranch was absolutely delicious.
We would serve and eat meals at a table, always. No hats. No cell phones.
Sitting at that table and enjoying the evening's meal with some drinks and conversation is something I will remember and cherish forever. It was a time for everyone to unwind. Stories were told, questions were answered, thoughts were listened to, and we ate, drank, and were truly merry around that table together.
Sometimes games followed dinner. Here again was that sense of comfort. These silly board games and card games that bring us closer together. It may seem old fashioned or childish, but who cares? Games are fun and at their core they take a group of people and force them to interact, challenge, think, strategize, and usually laugh.
The longer we were at the ranch, the longer we wanted to stay. In the afternoon, when most of the work was done, we would head out to the nearby lake and relax. Often we would meet up with the “neighbors” (they lived a solid 15-20 minutes away) and go out on their jet ski, other times we would kayak or fish or I would just sit on the shore and read. It was the simple life. Hard work each day made those few lazy hours at the lake seem so much more worth it.
Though the fires continued throughout BC, the smoke came and went on the ranch. On the days where the smoke was heavy, we were thankful for the shade and cooler temperatures. On the clear days, we were thankful for the views. We continued to explore the boundaries of the property and even began to ride consistently.
Scott’s goal of riding at a full gallop was soon achieved and we became closer not only to our hosts, but to their animals as well. Max, their 14-year-old border collie and dad to all of their litters in the past, started guarding our small cozy cabin each night and greeted us each morning. He would lazily stretch before bounding with the energy of a pup up the hill to the main house for breakfast.
The garden became my sanctuary. After making a few rookie mistakes and killing a few plants, I learned that patience and knowledge go a long way in a garden. Learning to read the soil and listen to what the plants need has never come naturally to me. Bless Michelle and her patience with my relentless questioning and constant badgering for information about starting a garden.
Weekends were for fun. Rodeos, river adventures, Caesar (like a bloody mary) contests, rock climbing, rib festivals, and horse riding all weaved their way into our Saturdays and Sundays. Instead of taking weekends off and going out on our own adventures, Scott and I made the choice to stick around and have fun all together. We definitely did not regret it.
The ranch was our home for even longer than we originally planned. We stayed an additional 10 days and even then we didn’t want to leave. Home cooked meals, showers, comfortable beds, friends: living out of the van again suddenly seemed less enticing. Yet the northwest was waiting. Squamish was waiting. Olympic National Park. Portland. The coast.
With heavy hearts, we said our goodbyes, ensuring our return either in the winter or next summer. The rounds took longer than usual as we made sure to say goodbye to everyone, including the animals. The dogs chased us down the driveway and we left Hidden Valley Ranch with a multitude of experiences, knowledge, and information. Yet we left with so much more than that.