THE BITTERROOT RANCH
Nothing Artificial"
by Virginia Kidd
Booking a holiday without a personal recommendation is always difficult and this year it was worse than usual. We had little time to research our precious summer vacation but I was vaguely inspired by a few fond memories of traveling through the National Parks of Wyoming as a child. With "The Wyoming Guide" by Sierra Adare in one hand and Gene Kilgore's "Ranch Vacations" in the other, my husband, David, sat down one Sunday afternoon to face the task. As a family we have unusual taste in holiday accommodation and would choose to sleep in the wilderness in tents or stay in the Four Seasons, but not much in between. We have an ingrained dislike of anything artificial or contrived and felt that the many of the ranches in the Rockies would offer a rather corny pastiche of a Wild West experience. Determined to avoid this, David began his research.
He very quickly identified Bitterroot as the type of ranch that might suit our exacting criteria. The first concerned size – not so large that it would be impersonal but large enough to attract an interesting mix of people. We estimated that meant between 30 and 40 guests. Secondly, location was paramount: it must be nowhere near a road and surrounded by stunning countryside, with limitless riding possibilities. Then we needed a ranch to cater for the demands of our family with two daughters aged thirteen and ten who both ride and a three year old, Charlie, who is adaptable but needs constant attention as all very small children do. David, having had a nasty experience with a horse as a child, had not learnt to ride until last year but loved it so much that he wanted a more ambitious riding program this year. I rode as a teenager and am now a rusty, cautious rider.
David was satisfied that Bitterroot was the ranch for us in a matter of minutes but I needed to know that he had covered every ranch in the Rockies. We have had similar experiences choosing curtain fabric and as usual, many hours later, we ended up with Bitterroot as our first choice. After several phone calls to Mel and Bayard Fox, mainly concerning babysitting uncertainties, we made our booking.
Then the worries set in. Would the riding be too advanced for us? Weren't Arabs those excitable horses, which were too temperamental for intermediate riders? Would Charlie fall in the river without any one person totally responsible for him or ruin our opportunity to ride because we were not happy to leave him? Had we bitten off more than we could chew?
From the moment we arrived, we knew we had made the right choice. Over a glass of wine on the front porch that evening, we began to soak up the informal atmosphere. The various kinds of fowl clucking and squawking around the yard together with the goats, llamas and dogs all over the place belie the skill and efficiency that make things work to such a high standard behind the scenes.
One group of the guests had been coming to Bitterroot for six years and accompanied Mel and Bayard on overseas trips with Equitour. Several guests owned their own horses and were very accomplished riders. Some started riding at Bitterroot as beginners and after a few years could ride with the best. Some were complete beginners. We were somewhere in-between.
The horses are beautiful, in peak condition, well schooled and not at all the nose-to-tail trail horses that one might come across at a ranch. Unusually, the Foxes own all their horses and breed many of them themselves, in stark contrast to other ranches, which often lease their horses. Mel takes particular pride in matching horses to ability and all my fears about being over-horsed were completely unfounded. On the first morning we had an evaluation and were taught to ride in a manner appropriate for the terrain and altitude. However accomplished a horseman, each guest is expected to adopt Mel's riding technique. After a few days we all became accustomed to it and began to realize that the condition of Bitterroot horses bears testimony to its effectiveness.
Each day we rode for about three hours in the morning and about two in the afternoon, never repeating a ride, through the most stunning, rugged country. We each had at least three horses to ride in rotation so that they didn't get too exhausted. Tracy, the head wrangler, has worked at Bitterroot for fifteen years and takes care of everything under Mel's watchful eye with great care and a sense of humor. To her credit, all the wranglers were charming and well trained. On Friday we had a go at team sorting, which is a cowboy game that involves moving cattle around an arena in a particular order. It was quite a challenge, even to the team of wranglers who showed us what to do, and enormous fun.
At the end of the week, we went on an all day picnic ride and were in the saddle for over 6 hours, spending part of the day moving cattle to a new part of the Shoshone National Forest. At between seven and nine thousand feet, this was much more tiring for the horses than a full day's hunting would have been at sea level but they were in much better shape than their riders by the time we returned home. Meanwhile, Charlie was totally cared for by a delightful babysitter who had been lined up by Bayard and drove all the way from Dubois every day. Our cabin was simple but cozy and right by the main lodge so it was very convenient for Charlie and the girls. When they were not riding they cruised around between the pool table, the hot tub and the library, which contained a full range of books and videos for all ages. While other people felt sorry for themselves at the end of the day, having to walk some distance to their cabins, I envied them the solitude.
As a family, we are not easy to please in the kitchen. We like good cooking and do not enjoy anything processed or pretentious. To our delight, the team of cooks, who also returned year after year, produced delicious food for every meal seemingly without effort. The atmosphere was rather like a large house party with Mel, Bayard and members of their extended family eating with guests in the dining room and discussing everything under the sun with a deep understand of international affairs and mischievous quick-wittedness.
My enduring memory is of the mountains on the last evening after dinner, glowing in the setting sun, which were so painfully beautiful that it rendered me totally incapable of saying good-bye to the other guests. I left determined to ride regularly so that I can return next year and enjoy it all the more.
Virginia Kidd
Illinois
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1480 East Fork Rd
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