San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
Can tourism save ranching heritage?
Company helps owners preserve their land while educating and pampering visitors
From atop my horse Cinco, a seemingly infinite landscape of high-desert scrub, arid sagebrush and sandy plains unfurls before me. Behind me, a herd of bison roam against a backdrop of snow-capped peaks.
To a girl who grew up in the claustrophobic suburbs of New Jersey, this vast expanse of untamed land is something that only existed in John Ford movies and Charles Russell paintings. The mythic American West, with its cowboys and cattle ranchers, was a romantic notion in my imagination — a distinctive chapter I’d relegated to our country’s past.
But as I lope across the 50,000-acre pasture of Medano Ranch in southern Colorado, I begin to understand that ranching is very much a part of the West’s present and crucial to its future.
Medano is one half of Medano-Zapata Ranch, a 103,000-acre working guest ranch situated on the eastern edge of the San Luis Valley abutting the geological wonder that is Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. Owned by the Nature Conservancy and run by Ranchlands, a fourth-generation, family-owned and -operated ranch management company, the property is home to a herd of 2,000 wild bison, Angus cattle, horses and Ranchlands’ largest hospitality operation.
Duke Phillips III, the founder of Ranchlands, will break any stereotype you’ve ever had about cowboys or ranching. Raised on a ranch in Mexico, he’s traveled the world, apprenticed with legendary horsemen, ranchers and businessmen, and counts Pablo Neruda among his favorite poets.
If you think ranching is riding horses, moving cattle, wearing hats and driving trucks, Phillips will convince you it’s really about being a steward of the land.
“I thought I was getting into the business of grazing animals, but instead, it has become more about a growing group of people working together on a mission to create a better world through the management of land, people and animals through the legacy of ranching,” he wrote in a recent blog post.
Early on, Phillips recognized that ranching is one of the rare professions that is passed down generation to generation. He’s lucky that his children, Duke IV and Tess, have enthusiastically embraced the family business, but many of the younger generation have no idea how to run an inherited ranch, let alone make it a viable business. Ranchlands aims to ease the burden by handling land management duties for ranch owners and, at the same time, bridge the ever-growing town and country divide by inviting guests to experience ranch life.
Currently, Ranchlands manages five properties across Colorado, Texas, New Mexico and Wyoming. Its two properties in Colorado, Medano-Zapata and Chico Basin, a nearly 90,000-acre ranch south of Colorado Springs, are experiments in diversification, with hospitality offshoots that include lodging, farm-totable meals and programming ranging from concert series to artist retreats.
Chico Basin, a property on a 25-year lease from the Colorado State Land Board, targets experienced riders who want a taste of dawn-to-dusk ranch life, while Medano-Zapata lures city slickers like me, who fantasize about ranch life but haven’t the faintest idea of the real meaning of saddle sore.
Arriving at Medano-Zapata feels like traveling back in time. A bumpy, cottonwood-lined drive deposits me to a 19th-century homestead that’s been turned into 17-room lodge. My log cabin, Bird, is the perfect mix of vintage charm and modern comfort, with a Woodsman stove, claw-foot bathtub and picture windows overlooking the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.
Guests can immerse themselves as much or as little in ranch life as they please. Some come to have a cushy base to explore the national park, less than 5 miles away, and indulge in chef Chase Kelley’s spectacular meals, while others, like myself, want to get a better understanding of horsemanship and rotational grazing, a sustainable practice that moves cattle to mimic the historic grazing patterns of bison.
Mornings begin with a multicourse, made-to-order breakfast far fancier than what most ranch hands are accustomed to. I dig into cheesy grits spiked with bacon-chile crunch and topped with hen of the woods mushrooms and a poached egg, plus homemade biscuits and jam. As hard as I try, I can’t resist cleaning my plate and have to loosen my belt buckle before I throw my leg up to mount Cinco, one of the ranch’s 50-plus horses.
My wrangler, Lauren, a lanky Californian, explains every ride is customized to the guest’s ability. You won’t find nose-totail rides here. In fact, many rides don’t even follow trails. Often, you’re just out exploring the land.
Ranchlands is one of the few outfits permitted to bring horses into Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. To experience this otherworldly landscape — a mix of tundra, wetlands and towering dunes shaped by the region’s unique winds — on horseback allows you to reach depths of the park few visitors venture to on foot. Galloping across the ever-shifting sand, not a soul in site, I feel like I could be riding through the Sahara.
The next day, we trailer our horses to Medano Ranch. Many of the original 1800s buildings still exist and are listed in the National Register of Historic Places. It’s here I feel my inner cowgirl come to life. We ride for six-plus hours, not encountering another human, just the bison and an occasional stealth coyote darting between patches of yellow-tinged rubber rabbit brush. The whistle of the wind and occasional whinny from Lauren’s horse, Campbell, are the only disruptions to the silence.
With no trails to follow, our route is dictated by the path of the bison, which we keep at a mindful distance. Lauren coaches me on my loping, and by day’s end, I’ve found my rhythm in the saddle. Being surrounded by so much open space, I feel a beautiful sense of freedom and possibility. I understand the pull that lured those early frontiers men and women west. We ride to the bison barn, an intricate facility where, with the help of a helicopter, the bison are gathered each fall to be vaccinated and about a quarter of them culled in order to trim the herd to fit the range.
Some of those culled animals end up as meat, served at the ranch. Chef Kelley sources what he can directly from the ranch and works closely with the San Luis Valley foodshed to create sensational dishes like honeymiso roasted chicken, charred eggplant with green chile yogurt and apple tart with sherry caramel, thyme and salted whipped cream.
My final night, I take the pillow-shaped sopapillas chef has prepared for dessert and meet Lauren for sunset out in the pasture. The horses rush toward us and start nuzzling our pockets, looking for treats. Lauren has brought cups of sliced apples. We attempt to dole out pieces equally, but when I turn back to the trucks, I see Murphy, a tall auburn beauty, has been sneaky and gotten the last of the apples.
The sky has turned sherbet hues of orange, pink and yellow, and Lauren and I climb onto her truck bed to watch the sinking sun.
I marvel at the landscape stretched before me. What I saw as a pretty vista just a few days ago, I now see with a fresh lens.