If I had to pick one spot on earth that brings back the very best of my memories, it might well be here in Torrey, Utah. I first came through Torrey in 1994, so 32 years ago. The small relatively obscure town is primarily a farming community that happens to sit in between some of the most interesting topography of this red rock Canyonland that is so very unique to southern Utah. I know there are other special spots like Sedona, Arizona, Moab, Utah, and perhaps Monument Valley that are similarly magnificent but they don’t have something that Torrey does have. They don’t have the Lodge at Red River Ranch.
The Lodge at Red River Ranch is a remarkable property. Situated near Capitol Reef National Park in the heart of Utah’s canyon country, halfway between Canyonlands and Bryce Canyon, the Lodge sits on 2,200 private acres of wilderness. The Navajo called this region the “Land of the Sleeping Rainbow”, a landscape of multi-hued rock layers. Guarded by a row of ancient elms and cottonwoods, the Lodge captures the heritage and majesty of the Old West. The Lodge itself is built on the grand scale of the great western lodges, it blends rich western history with modern convenience, and feels like a grand, turn-of-the-century Adirondack lodge. The great main room features high beam ceilings and fine antiques (both native and cowboy), set against a storybook red-rock landscape where buffalo (excuse me, American Bison) roam. This year they have a herd of almost two dozen, many of whom are about to calf in a few weeks. The place feels like something out of a vintage western movie, with all the livestock to go with it. The Lodge has 15 rustic rooms in the authentic tradition of the 18th-century Wild West. Guest rooms are meticulously and individually decorated with fine furnishings and art… each has a fireplace and either a patio or balcony overlooking the grounds. Kim and I always stay in Anasazi in honor of the ancient people that roamed this area…and because it’s conveniently situated right off the Great Room on the first floor. Most guests don’t realize the Lodge sits on five miles of private Blue Ribbon fly fishing water on the Fremont River, though when my family gathers here every few years, we always have a few fly fishermen and try to give the kids a taste of that sport. We also arrange horseback riding for those so inclined, not to mention doing things like llama walking and nighttime stargazing in this vast Dark Sky location. Hiking, mountain biking, and jeep canyon bashing are available as well.
The dining room at the Lodge is only open for breakfast (the full range of big ranchhand offerings), and the kitchen can prepare sack lunches for a day of exploring, but we have known the owners, Charlene and Dave and the kids Grace, Tommy and Phoebe for twenty five years, so we always manage to wrangle a dinner here as well. Last night, Charlene brought in Mexican food from Chak Balam and she and Grace joined us for a casual feast followed by a lively game of cards in the dining room with its old electric train that runs around the molding overhead.
The Lodge has been named one of the West’s 25 Grandest Lodges. It has been family owned and operated since 1978, when Charlene’s dad built it. For immersion in Utah canyon country with genuine Western character, it’s hard to beat this place, but for me, it just feels like being home.
We rode in yesterday after going through Zion Canyon and paying homage to what I consider to be the cathedral of the world. And today, after our range breakfast, we headed up the famous Route 12 that goes over Boulder Mountain, giving access to either the Burr Trail down to Bullfrog Landing on Lake Powell to the left or into the Escalante Staircase to the right. Our riding group consist of three of us who are veteran AFMC members who have ridden these roads and stayed at the Lodge many times before and three new members of my local hilltop riding crew, who had never before enjoyed the wonders of Utah. So we chose to ride down the spectacular Escalante Staircase in the perfect weather of a sunny May day, only to turn around at Escalante and head back up the Staircase and do the ride in reverse until we got to Boulder again. There we stopped for lunch at the famous Hell’s Backbone Grill. This remote five-star eatery is Utah’s highest rated Michelin restaurant and at lunchtime they now have a food truck in their courtyard called The Little Bone, which served up a fine lunch of elk burgers and spicy coleslaw.
With our bellies full, we headed back over Boulder Mountain, which had warmed up to the point where the youngest member of our crew, 23 year-old Wolfgang Lochmiller, chose to remind us what being 50 years younger than us could do for his riding ability. Nostalgically, Wolfgang rides a BMW K1300 GT which used to be owned by Kim‘s brother Jeff (may he rest in peace), and which Wolfie has refurbished to mint riding condition, as he proved to us by going up and down the mountain ahead of us several times while we worked our way over the 10,000 foot summit. After a quick ride through the always serene Capital Reef National Park, we headed back through Torrey, past the old Chuckwagon Motel that we used to stay in before we found the Lodge, and found ourselves once again at Red River Ranch with the seasonal Cottonwood fluff falling all around us as though we were in dreamland.
It was a relatively short riding day compared to the two days it takes to get here and the two days of riding it will take to return home across the desert. Tomorrow we will ride through Panguitch, past the childhood home of Butch Cassidy, up into Cedar Breaks before heading back down through the Virgin Valley Gorge, and the Valley of Fire to Lake Las Vegas. These are all nostalgic places to me that remind me of people and times that mean everything to me. This five day ride is the closest thing I have in my life to a pilgrimage and it is as spiritual to me as any Haj is to a faithful pilgrim. If Zion is my cathedral, then the Lodge at Red River Ranch is my temple. Those seem fitting terms to apply to an area settled by Mormons almost 200 years ago. These long days in the saddle of my motorcycle are nothing compared to the hardships endured by the settlers who first came to this beautiful land. My sore saddleback is a small price to pay for me to enjoy reliving all the good times I have had and I hope to yet have again here in Utah. I will give a farewell hug to Charlene and Grace as we ride out tomorrow morning in the crisp May air and watch the frolicking bison kick up their heels as we twist our throttles.