92 V A N C O U V E R M A G A Z I N E | M A R C H 2 O 1 5 M A R C H 2 O 1 5 | V A N C O U V E R M A G A Z I N E 93

***TIME TO HORSE AROUND WITH THECLASSIC BLOUSE FROM THE NEW

ALFRED SUNG COLLECTION AT MARK’S($39.99, Marks.com)

CATCH AND RECATCHYou may be in the Sonoran Desert, but the sunfi sh and largemouth bass are still biting at tiny manmade Lake Corchran

FOUR WALLS, NO ROOFYou can ride from sun-up on, but the most breathtaking views happen at dusk, when the full panorama of the mountain ranges at all cardinal points gleams

BOYS’ CLUBThe ranch is home to around 200 horses, includ-ing many that overwinter from sister ranch Grand View Lodge in Minnesota

HERE’S MUD IN YOUR EYEAll the lodging—in traditional Santa Fe style with adobe walls—opens onto desert scrub. Remember to put on your fl ip-fl ops before you head for the hot tub: area snakes are rarely belligerent, but no one likes to be stepped on

Gra

ddy

Phot

ogra

phy

T H E GOODS N e x t D e s t i n a t i o n s

�F I E L D T R I P

since 1957, he’s cooking up blue-berry pancakes, as he does most Thursday and Sunday mornings. Settled in at picnic tables with pancakes, chili eggs, and co! ee, we greet the day like the (okay, pampered) cowboys we’ve become in only a few short days.

Tanque Verde has been a guest ranch for over 100 years; its 640 acres, home nowadays to nearly 200 geldings and 69 Southwestern-style guest rooms, make it the larg-est dude ranch in America. Size matters. Having so many horses and sta! means every day there are multiple rides, plus many guided activities like mountain biking, nature walks, and even astronomy and cooking challenges. “It’s okay if you just want to sit out on the

!it’s 7:45 a.m. and we’re already in the saddle, guid-

ing a string of horses up the shoulder of Arizona’s Rincon Mountains. It’s an early start but worth it: the sky is incan-descent, the desert scrub a soft grey punctuated by hundreds of saguaro cacti. We can see forever. My mount, a palomino named Dorado, picks his way across dry washes that only a few weeks ago were rushing cataracts distribut-ing half the area’s 30 centimetres of annual rainfall in a matter of days. Our next stop winks in and out of sight: the circa-1868 homestead house of Tanque Verde Ranch. When we crest the fi nal ridge, Bob Cote greets us from behind the outdoor grill: owner

patio and watch the sun go up and go down,” Rick Hartigan tells us during a riveting Nature Center discussion of the area’s (many) venomous critters. “But if you like to keep busy, we’re happy to share what we know.”

I want to know more about horses, so I spend hours each day reliving the “Hi-yo, Silver!” dreams of my childhood. Dorado’s awfully placid, but on another occasion I’m consigned a trusty-looking fellow named Boots and we get up a fi ne froth, shifting smoothly from a trot up to a canter (which, in the Southwest, they call a lope). Sadly, my technique is judged too sloppy for fast lope rides, and I’m sent back down to the walk/trot minors and Dorado, who may not be my

Dude, Where’s My Mare?Trail-riding bliss among the saguaro cacti of the Arizona desert by john burns

HANGARS ONConditions make the area storage heaven

for hundreds of decommissioned

and mothballed jets and fi ghter planes.

Pimaair.org

GET BACKSir Paul McCartney is said to still own an adjacent ranch; locals can point out

where the Beatle once rode

FEELING BROWSY Hitting the border? Stop in at Tubac, an artists’ colony and

craft bazaar 100 kilometres south. Tubacarizona.com

N E A R B Y

92 V A N C O U V E R M A G A Z I N E | M A R C H 2 O 1 5 M A R C H 2 O 1 5 | V A N C O U V E R M A G A Z I N E 93

***TIME TO HORSE AROUND WITH THECLASSIC BLOUSE FROM THE NEW

ALFRED SUNG COLLECTION AT MARK’S($39.99, Marks.com)

CATCH AND RECATCHYou may be in the Sonoran Desert, but the sunfi sh and largemouth bass are still biting at tiny manmade Lake Corchran

FOUR WALLS, NO ROOFYou can ride from sun-up on, but the most breathtaking views happen at dusk, when the full panorama of the mountain ranges at all cardinal points gleams

BOYS’ CLUBThe ranch is home to around 200 horses, includ-ing many that overwinter from sister ranch Grand View Lodge in Minnesota

HERE’S MUD IN YOUR EYEAll the lodging—in traditional Santa Fe style with adobe walls—opens onto desert scrub. Remember to put on your fl ip-fl ops before you head for the hot tub: area snakes are rarely belligerent, but no one likes to be stepped on

Gra

ddy

Phot

ogra

phy

T H E GOODS N e x t D e s t i n a t i o n s

�F I E L D T R I P

since 1957, he’s cooking up blue-berry pancakes, as he does most Thursday and Sunday mornings. Settled in at picnic tables with pancakes, chili eggs, and co! ee, we greet the day like the (okay, pampered) cowboys we’ve become in only a few short days.

Tanque Verde has been a guest ranch for over 100 years; its 640 acres, home nowadays to nearly 200 geldings and 69 Southwestern-style guest rooms, make it the larg-est dude ranch in America. Size matters. Having so many horses and sta! means every day there are multiple rides, plus many guided activities like mountain biking, nature walks, and even astronomy and cooking challenges. “It’s okay if you just want to sit out on the

!it’s 7:45 a.m. and we’re already in the saddle, guid-

ing a string of horses up the shoulder of Arizona’s Rincon Mountains. It’s an early start but worth it: the sky is incan-descent, the desert scrub a soft grey punctuated by hundreds of saguaro cacti. We can see forever. My mount, a palomino named Dorado, picks his way across dry washes that only a few weeks ago were rushing cataracts distribut-ing half the area’s 30 centimetres of annual rainfall in a matter of days. Our next stop winks in and out of sight: the circa-1868 homestead house of Tanque Verde Ranch. When we crest the fi nal ridge, Bob Cote greets us from behind the outdoor grill: owner

patio and watch the sun go up and go down,” Rick Hartigan tells us during a riveting Nature Center discussion of the area’s (many) venomous critters. “But if you like to keep busy, we’re happy to share what we know.”

I want to know more about horses, so I spend hours each day reliving the “Hi-yo, Silver!” dreams of my childhood. Dorado’s awfully placid, but on another occasion I’m consigned a trusty-looking fellow named Boots and we get up a fi ne froth, shifting smoothly from a trot up to a canter (which, in the Southwest, they call a lope). Sadly, my technique is judged too sloppy for fast lope rides, and I’m sent back down to the walk/trot minors and Dorado, who may not be my

Dude, Where’s My Mare?Trail-riding bliss among the saguaro cacti of the Arizona desert by john burns

HANGARS ONConditions make the area storage heaven

for hundreds of decommissioned

and mothballed jets and fi ghter planes.

Pimaair.org

GET BACKSir Paul McCartney is said to still own an adjacent ranch; locals can point out

where the Beatle once rode

FEELING BROWSY Hitting the border? Stop in at Tubac, an artists’ colony and

craft bazaar 100 kilometres south. Tubacarizona.com

N E A R B Y

94 V A N C O U V E R M A G A Z I N E | M A R C H 2 O 1 5

Gra

ddy

Phot

ogra

phy

getaway steed but turns out to be very good at another activity: team penning. In groups, we coordi-nate our mounts to nudge a herd of calves across a ring and into pens; our foursome easily outpaces the competition to win bragging rights. It may not be Lone Ranger territory, but it’s immensely satisfy ing nevertheless.

Tanque Verde’s slow time is May to August, but even in early November the place is quiet enough that on cookout night, we’re just a few dozen around fires, listening to Bill Ganz sing Johnny Cash as we wash down hamburg-ers and grilled corn with Barrio Blanco ales and the house spe-cial: margaritas made with juice from prickly pears picked on the property. Nogales, Mexico, is only 100 kilometres south, and with the guitar, the crackling fire, a bout of line dancing, and all those bril-liant winking stars (Arizona has dark-sky legislation, and up the road 24 telescopes are in service to astronomers around the world), the ancient desert rises up, blotting out the very few modern intrusions to convince us we’ve made it back to the Old West.

My legs don’t see the romance, apparently: after three days riding the trails, I’m a little tender, so I take advantage of one more ranch amenity. Not watercolour lessons or pickup tennis. I head to La Sonora Spa for a deep muscle session that squeezes the soreness out of my jostled body. Saddle-sore no more, I stop by the corral one last time and reach through the mesquite fence to wish Dorado happy trails. Until we meet again. VM

House margaritas are made with prickly pears grown on site

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