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Finding Zen at the Dude Ranch
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Finding Zen at the Dude Ranch
French Broad Outpost Dude Ranch owner Shawn Gannon.
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Finding Zen at the Dude Ranch
Tension fills the air as I work to get everything in place to spend a half week at the French Broad Outpost Dude Ranch. In retrospect, I wish we had opted for the full week experience, but at the time, a late Wednesday arrival and mid-afternoon departure on Saturday seemed like the most practical way to spend some time with my kids, Ben and Hannah, (ages 19 and 21) in a relaxed, fun atmosphere. Before we can take off, however, schedules need to be juggled. My son needs to get off work and I have to double up on deadline times to finish articles before heading to a place where I will be electronically deprived and cut-off from email.
I am also tasked with making sure we have the gear we need: hats, boots, jeans, and long-sleeved shirts (when you’re on a trail ride, you never know when you might brush up against briars or have a tree limb slap back on you).
Once everything is packed, we head out on our adventure.
Wednesday
Del Rio, Tennessee, where the ranch is located, is a small unincorporated community in East Tennessee boasting just over 2,000 residents. From our home in Asheville it’s about an hour and ten-minute ride, but it feels as if we’re going much further into uncharted territory. We head to Hot Springs, a familiar destination, and then take the turn to our new stomping ground over the state line in Del Rio. I worry the GPS will lose its signal and result in arriving late and missing dinner. The meals are served precisely at 8 a.m., 12 noon and 6 p.m. I know this bit of information from reading the website. I also realize that if we miss dinner, it will be a long time before breakfast.
Luckily, we find our way to the ranch before the bell rings for supper. We have time to register and take our bags to our spacious room on the top floor of the building they call the “hotel,” which has guest rooms above a western saloon and dance hall. On the far end of this “Western Town” complex is the “Lodge,” with additional rooms. We don’t spot other guests until we arrive in the restaurant and take seats at long tables where food is served family style. One little boy cries out, “Look, there are new people here!” Others greet us warmly, ask our names and where we are from. We find seats across from Paul and Valerie Michel from Michigan—they were especially friendly and communicative about how much fun they were having on their half-week (they arrived on Sunday and left Thursday morning).
Cowboy music fills in the random pauses and I love hearing Gene Autry crooning “Here on the range I belong, Drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds…”—a fitting opening to time spent on a ranch.
Suddenly the kitchen door bursts open, amid the sound of jingle bells and a fast boot shuffle across the floor. Owner Shawn Gannon, bedecked in cowboy hat, scarf, western shirt, pants and leather boots with spurs (the source of the jingling sound) rushes to place a skillet of cornbread at one end of the table and returns to the kitchen to bring out more. A train of others, including Shawn’s wife, Jo Ann, stampede out of the kitchen with other bowls and containers. The crew quickly decorate the table with the steaming food — in all, they served up breaded pork chops, macaroni and cheese, green beans, and cornbread followed by slices of buttermilk pie. Simultaneously, the team of four horse wranglers jump up and fill glasses and mugs with requests from the diners—tea, lemonade, water, coffee. Everyone passes the plentiful bowls and platters around the table, fill their plates, and immediately dig in.
The staff here help set the rapid pace for dining. This is not a slow-food endeavor. When the food is on your plate, you better focus on eating it quickly, because in just a short time they will be clearing the table of empty plates and leftovers. And there were always leftovers. The food is delicious with plenty of opportunities to scoop up second or even third helpings, and yet, there were still leftovers at the end. If anyone leaves hungry, they only have themselves to blame.
At the end of this and every meal, Shawn stands at the end of the table and rings a cow bell. With all eyes on him, he announces what comes next. Everyone is invited, and encouraged, to participate in the Pioneer Games in the horse ring followed by black powder shooting (for those over 21) and horse painting at the barn for the kids.
We followed the lead of others who load up on treats for the horses—there are bowls of chopped carrots and wrapped peppermints in the restaurant, and they are replenished frequently to maintain a steady supply throughout the day. We fill our pockets with the candies and carrots and head down to the pasture to meet some of the horses. With the first crackle of the wrapper surrounding the peppermint, the horses gallop over in anticipation of the sweet treats.
The horses here are all Arabians—more than 40 in all—and they are extremely healthy and well-cared for. They also enjoy attention and soft words.
Shawn leads the way into the empty horse ring and has everyone line up and count off to divide into four teams. The first task: a spoon race to fill a bucket with water. Each participant dips the spoon in the water and then carefully fast walks several feet to drop it in a bucket and then race back to hand off the spoon to a waiting teammate. Talk about truly focusing on the moment. I concentrate solely on getting as much water as I can in the bucket, and that’s when my overload of day-to-day stress first starts melting away.
Once a winning team is proclaimed, Shawn announces the next task: a three-legged race. The hilarious attempts to run while tied to another person help release more stress and enhance the bonding with family and strangers.
Next up, we test our strength in an old-fashioned tug-of-war. This proves hardest of all—I can feel the burn of the rope striping my hands. My team wins our first round and then loses in the final.
By the end of the pioneer games, it feels as if we have been on the ranch for days, and it feels comfortable, even for a semi-introvert like me, to interact with the group. It’s really a brilliant way to introduce mid-week newcomers quickly into the mix.
My son and others venture down to an area where they fire black powder pistols. I head to the barn with my daughter to help paint a beautiful white horse named Ty. The wranglers tie Ty’s mane into a unicorn shape and squirt out bowls of paint that can be used to create designs and shapes on his body. They are careful to tell us to avoid his face and legs. Painting a horse is one of the most relaxing things I’ve ever done. This wasn’t my first equine painting experience, but I love sharing this moment with my daughter, who is majoring in art at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. She enjoys creating on an unusual canvas.
We turn in early in anticipation of a big riding day tomorrow. My son grumbles at the lack of cell phone connection, but I don’t miss the onslaught of news pushed at me through social media. Has something major happened today in the world? If it did, we remain blissfully unaware and sleep soundly through the night.
Thursday
Following a hearty breakfast, we join Shawn in a game room above the restaurant for our orientation.
We each take a turn on the scale—it’s important to know a rider’s weight to match him/her with the right horse. It’s also key in deciding if someone can participate. This is one of the most important pieces of information future guests need to know—if you weigh above their limit, they will not risk the safety of their horses to allow you to ride. The limit is 225 pounds to participate in all horseback activities, however they do allow guests between 225 and 240 pounds to take part in the cattle drive, team penning and blue trail if they can physically mount the horse and lean forward when needed. Anyone over 240 pounds may not ride. Read the rules on their website (frenchbroadduderanch.com) before making reservations.
Once he approves us to ride, Shawn gives us a lesson about how to quickly achieve balance on a horse. We’ve all ridden horses before, but this is the first time anyone has taken time to give instruction before heading out on a trail. Shawn’s method is to lean back, much like a water skier leans back, when the horse is in forward motion, with reins relaxed in hands. He says don’t hang on to the saddle or grip the reins too tight. If a horse is heading up an incline, the balance shifts, requiring you to lean forward.
“To me, balanced riding is when a rider can ride on a horse without any aid from anything besides themselves,” Shawn explains in a video on his instructional website (balancedriding.net). “That means your brain is your main balancing tool of your body. We can get people in balance in five minutes or so.”
We also watch a video about how to saddle our own horses. I find this part the most thrilling, adding a new dimension to my riding experience. I had a pony when I was a child, but too small at the time to fully saddle without help. I’ve also ridden horses many times through the years, but I’ve never been responsible for grooming, saddling, and making sure everything is secure.
We head down to the ring where we participated in the pioneer games. This time, the wranglers wait with a saddled horse. We each take turns riding and finding our balance. The one drawback, if there is a drawback to this ranch, is that they don’t use any type of mounting block. I require assistance from the wranglers to get into the saddle, but once there, I quickly find my balance as one of the wranglers runs in front of the horse encouraging it to trot around the ring.
Shawn approves us for the 10:30 a.m. trail ride and we walk over to the barn, where we are given our horse assignments. Each person has one horse that they ride for the duration of their stay. Not only do guests handle the tack, but they also have to carry a halter into the pasture, and lead their horse to the saddling posts. My horse, Tyberius (Ty for short) is in the main front pasture, while Ben and Hannah’s horses are in a field above the barn.
We brush our horses, offer them a treat, and then lay the blanket on their back, lift the saddle, turn and place it across the blanket. I love this opportunity to bond with Ty. The wranglers stand by to help with securing the straps, making sure the stirrups are the right length, and they put the bit in the horse’s mouth. It’s time to mount and head out on the trail. I lose all concept of time and the stress that I experienced before coming to this place. My mind and body relax with the rhythmic movements of my horse as its hooves clomp out a steady beat. Passing the river, I take notice of a trio of turtles sunning themselves on a partially submerged tree limb.
By the time we return to the barn, I feel completely relaxed and in tune with the present moment. We repeat the process, in reverse—undoing the straps, removing the saddle, taking off the blanket, and brushing the horse. Then we take them on a cool-down walk around the main pasture and then take them back to where we first gathered.
After lunch, we’re ready for another ride—this time a “cattle drive” where we take a trail ride down to a bottom pasture and then lead the cattle back to a front pasture. The cows and horses know the drill pretty well, but the cows still try to take advantage of inexperienced people and head off into the trees.
The remainder of the afternoon is spent relaxing before dinner. My son and daughter opt to play pool in the game room, while I tackle a puzzle in the saloon area. How long has it been since I’ve had time to do nothing more than find interlocking puzzle pieces that fit together? I experience the zen of the moment.
Dinner brings another round of delicious food and transports me back to my childhood and meals prepared by my mother and grandmother. I love all of the food they prepare here. For nightly entertainment, a bluegrass band plays in the saloon and wrangler Danni joins my daughter and I for a few rounds of Texas Hold ‘Em.
Friday
I sit on the porch outside the restaurant before breakfast and soak in the peaceful view. I feel completely in tune with this place and the stress reprieve that it offers.
For the most part, everyone interacts like old friends at the breakfast table—platters of pancakes, scrambled eggs and sausage links quickly disappear as the crowd readies for more time in the saddle.
The morning ride is another cattle drive to return the cows back to their original pasture. We ride slowly past the train tracks and disappear into heavier foliage as the cows and horses blend together on the trail. Everyone is calm and relaxed. It’s at this point I wish we had signed up for the week-long adventure—those here longer enjoy river tubing and whitewater rafting, as well as a supper ride where they dine at a beautiful mountain overlook.
After lunch, I return to the puzzle pieces, as my kids relax in their own way. There’s a swimming pool on the property, but it is a little cold for swimming.
I’m very aware that the afternoon ride will be the last trail ride of this trip. It’s lengthy and I feel completely balanced on my horse as we move along different trails, cross the train tracks, and explore the area. I try to soak in each moment of this ride and be fully present. I’m in my bliss, riding a beautiful horse on a spectacular day in the Tennessee mountains.
The evening features a kids’ rodeo. My kids, along with two small children, took part in the relay races on horseback. Then it was time to head to the saloon for some lively square dancing. The bluegrass band returned to play the tunes while Shawn was the square dance caller. After several rounds of square dancing, Shawn joined the crowd for a broom dance. One male would dance with a broom until the music stopped, then it was like a wild “musical chairs” as all the men grabbed a dance partner, leaving another guy alone with the broom. This proved, like the pioneer games, to be another activity that resulted in raucous laughter.
We retreat back to our room at the end of the night—it has two double beds and one twin bed, all covered with beautiful quilts. I’m glad I brought along bottles of shampoo and conditioner (another good tip for travelers as they only provide small bars of soap in the bathrooms).
Saturday
We awake after another peaceful night’s sleep and head downstairs for our final breakfast and activities.
Today’s event is a team penning exercise in the main ring where riders try to corner cows and get them into a box and then release them. It’s much harder than it looks, but a fun chance to be back in the saddle.
Lunch today is the first meal that seems leisurely—people linger after eating, not wanting to leave. I stroll back down to the pasture to say goodbye to Ty and to give him a few carrots. I can’t wait to ride him again.
Finding Zen at the Dude Ranch
A place to tune out and turn to horseback riding
There’s an interesting phenomenon that takes place at the French Broad Outpost Dude Ranch in Del Rio, Tennessee. Even for self-professed smart-gadget addicts, there’s a moment when guests suddenly become aware that they haven’t had access to social media or cell phone service for a while and surprisingly don’t miss it at all. That even goes for kids and teens who grumble upon arrival about the lack of Internet access and then forget all about it. Time seems to stand still in this place and all ages get a glimpse of a former way of life where the focus is on family bonding, spending time riding horses, eating good food, playing games, working puzzles, delighting in sunrises and sunsets in the Smoky Mountains, and dancing with strangers and staff members, who by week’s end often feel like old friends.
Tucked in the northeast corner of east Tennessee, a gravel road leads beside the French Broad River and weaves over the adjacent train tracks to the ranch entrance. Once on the property, the drive winds past cabins, pastures full of horses, and leads to a western town of sorts, built and maintained with the precise vision of owner Shawn Gannon and his wife, Jo Ann.
It’s common to think of western states when hearing the words “dude ranch,” but the East Coast does have a few from New York to Florida. Still, stumbling upon a dude ranch in east Tennessee is a rarity.
Shawn says he didn’t even know what a dude ranch was when visitors first suggested that he turn his property into such a place. That suggestion came in 2000, but it’s best to take a step back to the early 1990s when he and his family wanted to find a chunk of land in Tennessee where they could operate a campground and stable with horse rides much like they had witnessed at Cades Cove.
The Gannons were living in Georgia at the time and looked at some property in Cookeville, Tennessee, but they just didn’t hit on what they were looking for. At that point, Shawn says he ‘just rolled the dice.”
“I said, ‘I’m going to send off for Chamber of Commerce packets in eastern Tennessee,” he says. While they wanted at least 100 acres of land, he thought it might be possible to find a more modest amount of land bordering national forest land and get a permit to take people on trail rides.
What landed in their lap was beyond their wildest expectations.
“The first chamber that responded was Cocke County and the first land we saw in the real estate listings was this property,” says Shawn. “It had 285 acres with frontage on the French Broad River with 40 acres of bottom land for $140,000. We thought, “Wow, that sounds too good to be true.”
There were only two problems—an active railroad line runs right through the property and the entrance road was severely washed out. But those problems weren’t enough to stop them from buying the land and embarking on their dream. They cleaned up the property and offered camping, horseback rides and rafting. They also built a couple of cabins that are now used for staff housing.
In 2000, a couple in their 20s called Shawn. They had met at the Double Diamond Dude Ranch in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and were looking for work in Tennessee.
“I asked the guy, ‘What’s a dude ranch?” Shawn said. “He said we have 60 dudes a week. We feed them, take them out on horseback, do cattle drives. I said, ‘How much do you charge?” $1600 per person.”
Shawn quickly did the calculation and realized that dude ranch was bringing in $80,000 a week. In 1993, he only grossed $83,000 for the whole year, so he quickly entertained the notion of changing his business model.
He got a bank loan, as well as a loan from family, and quickly moved to build a western town on the property.
“That’s how we got started,” says Shawn. “On December 15, 2000, we broke ground and finished the restaurant and the lodge on June 12. We then built the hotel in 2006.”
The rest, as they say, is history. Today, the French Broad Dude Ranch is a thriving business with 43 Arabian horses amid pristine natural beauty. Its biggest claim to fame is giving families a chance to bond in a wholesome environment without interference from cell phones, TVs or Internet service.