Nevada

After our small break in Yellowstone, we were eager to get on the move and see new things. We left early the morning of August 4th, taking a short detour to again see the buffalo. We drove out of Wyoming, nipped a corner of Montana, zipped across Idaho, and then found ourselves in the giant state of Nevada. We found out very quickly that Nevada was a very sparsely populated state, and that it was VERY hot, and VERY dry.

We were excited to be in Nevada, for we were going to the Cottonwood Ranch, where the next day we would go horse riding. We had found the ranch almost a year before, and made reservations soon afterwards. We thought it was such a great idea. None of us had ever ridden a horse - it's needless to say that we were pretty excited.

Nevada turned out to be a lot scarier than we had thought; everything was so big, and the exits were more than 50 miles apart. It was just emptiness, a stick straight road, and the occasional ranch. My dad's confidence in this "great idea" was already low due to the hugeness of the sage brush desert, but it just about dropped into the negatives when we got lost. The directions said, "turn down dirt road." Simple enough, right? ....Which dirt road?

We turned into one, then turned around and went back to the highway. We turned down another - no, this couldn't be it! We turned down yet another, and had to turn around again, but there was no place to turn around. The road was so small, and scrub brush and desert plants grew thick on either side. That was not good news for our mini-van and bulky pop-up camper. We finally got turned around after several uncomfortable moments of silence and a lot of bumping and getting jerked about. My dad pulled out his phone and stared at the map for a few minutes, the rest of us sitting absolutely still with bated breath.

We did eventually find the road, but with every mile we went down it, we became more and more frightened of what we might find when we got to the ranch. Ten minutes, thirty, forty-five, fifty minutes, and we were still driving, still silent, still bumping around in our tight-packed car. The hour rolled around, and on we drove. Finally, after an hour that seemed like ten, we turned down the driveway and drove down a hill into the ranch. Nobody was there - just a few barns, a small house, several trailers, and the paddocks and horses. Dad got out to look for the ranch family. He found nothing.

We all got out and walked up the hill again, turning down a different path, walking past the small house, and finally we met a few boys about my age, who directed us to the lodge. And when we got to the lodge, we knew that nothing on the website was a lie, that we had made absolutely the right choice. They welcomed us warmly, having been waiting for us for a long time; they had a huge turkey dinner prepared, and took us right in as part of the family.

After dinner we got to ride the horses. After a little bit of asking a lot of questions, I got myself on my horse and started riding around. It was not nearly as difficult as I had feared - it was pretty simple, easy, even. I could not wait to ride the horses again the next morning.