I arrived at the dude ranch in darkness, bumping along dirt roads with only my rental car’s headlights to light the way. Out in the Whitefish, Montana, countryside – where I was staying for the next six days – nightfall means nightfall.
The upside of arriving in the pitch-black at Bar W Ranch is the great reveal the following morning. When I opened the cabin door onto the balcony of the two-story log cabin I’d chosen as my accommodation (glamping or staying in the main lodge are also options), I gave a cartoonish gasp. Beyond the row of wagons and against the imposing backdrop of evergreens, dozens of horses – palomino, chestnut, black, yellow dun – walked in slow lines across the fields. A mix of the dust from their hooves and the dawn mist rose into a sky of powdered blues, lilacs and greys. I heard the sound of a whip crack in the distance; a cowgirl’s holler of “git along” rang out.
