The Barefoot Ranch
My first Day
When one of your dearest friends in the world calls to ask if you’ll ranch sit while she’s a contestant on a reality TV show you say, “yes.” You don’t bother with the details. You just tell her whatever she needs you’ll work it out. You tell her, “Go, be big, shine.” And if you’re writer trying to finish a manuscript: perfect. What could be better than seven weeks isolated on 30 acres with five horses, 40 chickens and turkeys, and three dogs… in November and December in snow country.
Clare backed up, “I’m not positive I’ll get on, but I’m going to LA for five-day interview. I responded with a half-laugh: “You’ll get on.”
Clare and I have known each other since second grade. I followed her to Alaska when we were 21. We spent our “formative years” in the fishing industry. When I arrived at The Barefoot Ranch on November 11, 2015 we made a list of everything she needed to show me before she left. Then we realized she’d misread the departure time on her plane ticket and we had one day, not two. We reduced the list to the highlights. Then we reduced the highlights: how much and how often to feed the animals, and how to drive the 1956 Ferguson Tractor. To everything else Clare shrugged and said, “You worked on fishing boats, you’ll figure it out.”
To say my time on The Barefoot Ranch changed my life is a laughable understatement. You can read about it in my next book, The Road to Sapphire. For now, here are some images from my journey.
Note: these were originally posted on Instagram and Facebook. Scroll over the photo to see the caption.
Clare backed up, “I’m not positive I’ll get on, but I’m going to LA for five-day interview. I responded with a half-laugh: “You’ll get on.”
Clare and I have known each other since second grade. I followed her to Alaska when we were 21. We spent our “formative years” in the fishing industry. When I arrived at The Barefoot Ranch on November 11, 2015 we made a list of everything she needed to show me before she left. Then we realized she’d misread the departure time on her plane ticket and we had one day, not two. We reduced the list to the highlights. Then we reduced the highlights: how much and how often to feed the animals, and how to drive the 1956 Ferguson Tractor. To everything else Clare shrugged and said, “You worked on fishing boats, you’ll figure it out.”
To say my time on The Barefoot Ranch changed my life is a laughable understatement. You can read about it in my next book, The Road to Sapphire. For now, here are some images from my journey.
Note: these were originally posted on Instagram and Facebook. Scroll over the photo to see the caption.
A Visitor to the Hen House
I had a feeling I was being watched.
