Pinto Valley Ranch
It was heartbreaking last summer when the folks at Pinto Valley Ranch had to sell some horses (“family” the owner called them). They couldn’t feed the horses because of the drought. I showed up there today for a trail ride and found spirits to be high again.
It’s a family ranch, busy with teenage volunteers, a menagerie of animals and Ruby’s Restaurant (mismatched chairs and benches, large tables, a couch, armchairs, busy play area, decent coffee and bacon).
I go now to see the peacocks and llamas and a giant black pig who is free to waddle wherever his wiggling nose leads him, but I first went there to do some research for The Word Not Spoken. I really wanted to give Leigh, the main character, some freedom. She saw Felicia, an independent businesswoman, galloping on a horse on the cliffs; Leigh and I both wondered how to get her up there.
I had no experience riding horses, but a trail ride at Pinto Valley gave me the details I needed for the novel. I heard the squeaking saddle and felt the twisted ankles. A guide taught me a bit about horse behaviour, and I was able to make Leigh’s experience believable.
One visit gave me all the information I needed, but I return to the ranch again and again for the people. Kids are working and laughing and playing in every corner of the place. They’re brushing horses, feeding chickens, sweeping mud puddles, jumping horses in a ring, helping out on a trail ride. The nearby adults seem unflappable.
Everyone is welcomed with a smile: the neighbours who come only to talk over a coffee, the regulars in muddy boots who know every horse’s name, the visitors on an adventure who show up in sandals, camera in hand. And the writer too, the one from the city who asks questions like “Why do some horses stop to poop and some don’t?”
pig, dog and chicken sharing the trough of scraps from Ruby’s Restaurant.
