Planning a visit to the Ranch at Rock Creek
Photo credit: Courtesy of The Ranch at Rock Creek
~Sponsored post~
The first time I meet Montana, I am seated on my duffle bag at the side of railroad tracks in Havre. My cross-country romance with trains has dumped me, unapologetically, in the hot summer sun with very little notice. The train can’t make it through the mountains to Seattle. The passengers may not scatter too far because we do not know when we will need to board again. Travelers will just need to wait.
I choose the train because I am not the sort who will ever drive across the country. I think about it, I even map it out, but I am just not getting into a car for that long. I will see the scenery, the pine trees, the mountains, maybe even a bear, from the safety of an observation car. I am a city kid. I do not plan to venture outside.
I don’t think much about Havre or Montana or the rugged outdoors at all until the engagement of a good friend, long my escort on champagne-fueled outings to French restaurants, hotel terraces on high floors, cigar bars, places where politicians and lobbyists spend their time but not young men our age, in their twenties, still interested in beer, chicken wings, chili. She decides to marry a camper. Suddenly, she—a fellow urban dweller like me—is whitewater rafting, hiking through woods, contemplating times of the month when bears might be more interested than others in sticking their noses in tents.
Hanging your food in trees? Still not for me. I’ll see what’s out West by rail.
Photo credit: Courtesy of The Ranch at Rock Creek
What I remember about Montana, about Havre, about that train ride, are the trees, acre after acre, pine after pine, so many, so dense. How did anyone lay rail here? I spend a day with them, from mist to moonlight, and I think maybe one day I might be willing to see just a little bit more.
Which makes me so enthused that there’s a place like the Ranch at Rock Creek in Philipsburg, Mont. It’s a ranch that welcomes the unrugged, the bookish sorts who trill about big skies, stagecoaches, and ponderosa pines, but who seek a civilized goblet of wine, a massage in the spa, a dip in the pool. The Ranch at Rock Creek offers all of these with no judgment. It’s okay for inexperienced urban sorts to try horseback riding, archery, a game of pool. We won’t be sleeping on pine needles but in metal-framed beds, in canvas tents, with electricity and bathrooms.
We’ll experience all the wonder the West has to offer and return to the safety of our accommodations at the ranch, whether in a lodge room, a glamping tent, or a cabin. What I like about this place is that rugged friends can bring more bashful adventurers, those who want a taste of the wild but who aren’t quite ready to discard the comforts of the universe. Here, a visitor can fly fish or watch a rodeo, horseback ride or do yoga. Stagecoach rides at the Ranch at Rock Creek fuel the imaginations of adventurers both young and more seasoned. Those more brawny can get closer to the wilderness, shoot clays, zip line.
Photo credit: Courtesy of The Ranch at Rock Creek
Visitors to this ranch can meet Montana on their terms, outdoorsy or not, adventurous or not, outgoing or shy. They can meet this place, this state, this way of being and see that big sky, those wondrous pines, the meadowlarks. They can meet this place and be. They can meet this place and dream. They can meet this place and envision their return.
—Lori Tripoli