Holiday
at the
Second Chance Ranch


It is like Brigadoon, a mythical city that appears only once every one hundred years. Somewhere, on a mountain side in the Rockies, this city appears once every 364 days on July 4. A tent goes up to display the impressive buffet. There are pork roasts, pulled pork, and barbecue ribs. There are fruits and vegetables, baked beans, cole slaw, chips and salsa, and bananas foster for desert. There is beer of every description, wines, and sangria. Many kinds of bread including corn bread were beckoning. The massive wooden table on the outdoor kitchen patio is the central gathering place. There is a table with an umbrella ten feet off the porch for more private conversations, although nobody really ever had any.

The weather was cooperative, with a slight afternoon shower to cool things down a bit. Scheduling for this event was well timed, with the rain coming at the conclusion of the dinner. A “nicely done” salute to our hosts, Mark and Karen.

And then there were the people. There were all kinds of interesting people. Though the people were from different walks of life and occupations, they all had one thing in common, one common thread. They all did their own thing. Everybody knew what they wanted and were living life accordingly. People who do their own thing are something you don’t find very often. Most people do what they need to do to make a living. These people all seemed to do what they wanted to do to make a living. This is a very unique approach, and yet, everyone there seemed to have caught the fever long ago. Most importantly, everyone seemed very happy with their choice.

Eric restores houses and rents them out. Things are a little tight with the current Depression but, he was optimistic and at ease with his soul.

Frank works on cars and does his own work on the weekends. You can tell from talking to him that he is a skilled man and a happy man.

Larry works as an electrician. He seems to be a very happy guy.

Bob, who has a shop, was there too. So was his Burmese Mountain Dog. The dog was neurotic. Bob was not.

Bill and Liz were there too. Liz drives too far to work. I told her to write a book.

Carol and Jim (that’s me) were there. Carol is an artist. Carol told Jim (that’s me) to write a book.

Joe and Carmine were there. They are Mark's and Carol's parents and the father in law and mother in law of Karen and me (Jim). AND, they are the most optimistic people you could ever hope to meet. No matter what challenges life sends their way, they find a way to turn the lemons into lemonade. They also wrote the book on living life on their terms.

Even the turkeys showed up. They walked around well to the back of the yard, near the ridge that overlooks the valley through which the road winds. The valley road takes you to the turn-off road on the right which climbs up the final one hundred and fifty yards toward the “Second Chance Ranch,” the Brigadoon of Colorado. While the absence of a shoulder and the mild drop-offs on the right side might make a city slicker skittish, this road is standard and mild fare for mountain people. The rain a day or two before had washed much of the road further down the mountain. They had to scrape the mud flows together and push them back into place higher on the hill to shore up the road so it would be ready for the next storm. Good job, too!

The house is unique, and beautifully crafted. It is one of those places you see in those magazines where people proudly show off their dream homes. This house will land in one of those magazines soon. Keep an eye out for it. (Well, don’t literally keep an eye out for it. If you do, you only have half the chance of seeing it. You don’t want to miss it, do you?)

Of course, there were a few friends we didn’t run into. No bears or mountain lions showed up. The skunk that made himself at home under Mark and Karen’s home was long gone. He gave more than his “two scents” worth before he left.

No deer were around. That’s because Regis periodically escorts them off the property. Gets the deer mad too, and, they give Regis an earful. Doesn’t bother Regis because he’s deaf.

The Humming Birds were nice. You get a little tired of the same songs all the time, however.

Then there were the birds living in the nest they had built in ceiling of the outdoor kitchen. They didn’t seem to mind the humans sitting directly below, and the humans didn’t seem to mind the birds perched directly above. The birds were feeding their young in the nest. The teeny little American flags on the side of their nest were a nice Fourth of July touch. Very classy.

Wow! I hope they invite me next year. Maybe then I’ll remember all of the names of the great people I saw at the Second Chance Ranch on the Fourth of July.

Jim Wharton

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