It was a lot like going away to Camp I guess. I don't know because I never went away to Camp when I was a kid, but I did watch "Spin and Marty" Who? You ask? Never mind. That said, I had a great time. I had a log cabin all to myself and my own horse for a week.

The first morning they separated the real dudes from the experienced riders. You were matched with a horse according to your skill and weight. I got a sweet old quarter horse named Ranger. Not only was I the least experienced to begin with but due to a late arrival the night before I had missed the orientation about basics. I didn't even know what a pummel bag was, if you could imagine such a thing. Then we got a safety lecture from an experienced wrangler, still recovering from internal and external injuries she suffered while on a cattle drive the week before. She leaned over to swat a calf slipped out of the saddle and was dragged by the stirrup. That was a bit disconcerting for a rookie.

We also learned that a horse will bloat its belly when it is first saddled. So you have to walk him around until he lets the air out and then tighten the saddle again or it may be too loose. A dentist in our group learned first hand about a loose saddle and a steep grade. He fell down and broke his crown (dentist, get it). It is a wonder that he had no serious injuries other than a very bruised butt.

We were warned that we were in Bear Country and several of our guides carried side arms. There were several sightings in the area but they kept a low profile around us, Plenty of deer but no bears. I wondered if shooting a bear from a horse with a side arm is a good idea. Two young ladies from Connecticut who both own their own horses, were the life of the posse.This was their third dude ranch experience.One night after a great barbecue we were herded onto a tractor drawn hay wagon and handed laminated song sheets. The ladies turned the hayride into a joy ride and personal shuttle service. By the end of the night they almost had the young cowboy driving the tractor "broke".

We had a few drizzly days, but when the sun came out it warmed up nicely. The good news is there were no mosquitoes. The bad news is we were overrun with Yellow Jackets. The Ladies defended themselves with hairspray. The theory is that it makes their wings sticky and positively unmanageable. We had a branding one evening. Everyone sits around the campfire and toasts marshmallows and makes Smores and a guy with a branding iron will brand anything leather: hat, vests, boots and chaps. He will even brand the butt of your jeans but you have to remember to put a chunk of wood in your back pocket.

I can't say enough about the food. We had a different cuisine every night and you could request it the day before. It was always followed by a spectacular home made desert. They also catered to every dietary need.

The people were great. Except for a minor incident in a Red Neck Karaoke bar, everyone was friendly and helpful. Sometimes there would be a breakdown in communication due to accents and terminology (don't ask for a frappe in Montana), but if you avoid politics you're fine.

On the last night they had a barn dance that went on far too late for someone who had to be up at five to catch a train. When I left early everyone was having a good time. My good time was sitting on the porch of my cabin taking a long last look at a big Montana Sky.