Charming Cottage in Village of Pinehurst US Open Rental

Filed Under (US Open Rentals) by Clark Properties on 18-01-2014

New Front Photo

 

 

Cypress Cottage at 120 Magnolia Road in the heart of the Village of Pinehurst is available for rent for the 2014 US Open.  Built in 1910, and completely renovated in 2006, the cottage is one of the most charming and comfortable in the village.   The Pinehurst Country Club is a short walk away, and the Pinecrest Inn is around the corner.  This is a dream location.

 

The house features a welcoming back deck that wraps around to the front porch, parking for up to six cars, and a guest cottage out back with full kitchen, bath and bedroom.  In the main house, there are two spacious living areas, a dining room, a gourmet kitchen with bar, half bath and laundry room.  There is a downstairs bedroom and bath with nearby study.  Upstairs are a master bedroom and bath, two additional bedrooms one with a sleeping porch and large full bath to share.

 

The quality of this cottage from baths to kitchen is exquisite.  The link below will take you to the rental website.  Or call me, Maureen Clark (910) 315-1080 for more information or to book.

120 Magnolia  Road 

 

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Simply Spectacular US Open Rental Opportunity of Webb Farm

Filed Under (US Open Rentals) by Clark Properties on 18-01-2014

Copy of Lodge Front

 

Bill and Debbie Webb, featured in the Garden and Gun Magazine and Pine Straw Magazine stories about their quail plantation, are offering their home and hunting lodge as a rental for the US Open golf tournament coming to Pinehurst NC in June 2014.  The lodge offers eight bedrooms and eight full baths, two great rooms, dining room and bar.  The farmhouse next door has four bedrooms and three full baths.  The farm is 30 minutes from the Pinehurst No. 2 with a shuttle available to the course from the farm.  Gourmet meals, large televisions, bar, a fire pit, swimming pool, skeet shooting and wrap around porch with rocking chairs are among the amenities.  There are chefs at both the house and lodge that will prepare the finest in Southern cuisine for guests.

 

Call me, Maureen Clark, at (910) 315-1080 if you have a group of 12 couples or a corporate rental for this wonderful opportunity.

 

There is a link below to the rental website.

Webb Lodge and Farmhouse Rental for US Open 

 

Copy of Front Porch

 

Several photos of the farmhouse:

Master Bedroom

 

Porch

Well Lived, Well Loved

Filed Under (General Interest, The Area) by Clark Properties on 19-12-2013

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Many of North Carolina’s architecturally remarkable old farmhouses are not as lucky as the 105-year-old country home of Bill and Debbie Webb. The white frame house gazes west, across the elds with perfect grace. Although it appears to be in pampered condition, there was a time when survival looked bleak. When Bill returned to Ellerbe after graduating from Wake Forest University School of Law in 1978, his parents gave him the farmhouse and three surrounding acres. He remembers the cold January day looking at his gift with a grim perspective. “The weeds were head-high, the windows busted out and I could see the sky through the roof. When I got started on the work, it took a bulldozer to push the wisteria off the back half of the house.”
well_2Bill knew the farmhouse growing up as his grandparents John and Elizabeth Webb’s home. The country road out front bears the name. Century-old hardwoods surround the house, with a fifty-foot-tall magnolia on the perimeter. The house was built in 1908 at a time when a more elaborate version of the Queen Anne-style architecture was popular among successful businessmen in North Carolina. The Webb home, a modest rendering of the style, features the characteristic double front doors with triple windows on the second story above the entry, tall ’anking chimneys and an offset, deep front porch balanced by a bay window on the opposite end.
well_4“This house had some rough times,” Bill explained. “In the early ’20s it took a direct hit from a tornado that set the smokehouse down in Cartledge Creek, a third of a mile down the hill.” After John Webb died, and a brief habitation by tenant farmers, the house sat abandoned for over ten years. Today the property glows from Bill and Debbie’s care and attention. Their home offers the perfect retreat for two busy professionals.

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Debbie grew up in Hickory, and is a graduate of Sandhills Community College. She acquired her training as a culinary specialist at the Santa Fe School of Cooking and in the small Tuscan village of Montefollonico. She is well-known in Richmond County for having owned Steeples, a popular restaurant located in a former Catholic church. During the filming in Hamlet of the movie Billy Bathgate starring Dustin Hoffman and Nicole Kidman, her restaurant was rented by the film’s production company. “For four months I fed the whole crew ,” she said. Notably, Debbie also managed corporate suite catering at the North Carolina Speedway in Rockingham. These days, she is running the Lodge at Webb Farms, the family quail hunting enterprise the Webbs launched five years ago.
well_8The simple farmhouse kitchen at home is where she most enjoys cooking. Like all the original rooms in the house, the fl’oors are wide plank heart pine. A yellow tile backsplash warms the working part of the kitchen. Bill found the dark, hand-milled ceiling beams in the kitchen and family room ceilings in an old cotton gin on the Little River in Richmond County. The family room sits on the foundation of a screened porch that used to have a well in the middle. It was designed, Bill said, “so you didn’t have to go outside.”
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Many if not all of the antiques in the house are primitive pieces that Bill found in Richmond, lower Montgomery or western Moore County. “I was influenced by a local surveyor who collected primitive antiques,” Bill said. “He taught me how to spot pieces and got me going to auctions.” His mother, Glenna Webb, taught him how do to the refinishing. “Instead of playing golf,” Bill said, “my hobby back then was furniture.”
well_10He is most proud of a large pie safe in their family room. “I believe it was made by a cabinet maker in Anson County named Little. It came from the Calvin Little Plantation in Richmond County.” The safe, used to store hams, was coated in grease when Bill acquired it. Some of the pierced tins were missing. Bill recreated the missing squares by painstakingly punching out replacements.
well_7 Debbie’s in’uence is visible in the dramatic Western landscapes hung throughout the house. Her daughter, Breece, lives in Albuquerque and is a friend of the artist. The landscape hanging over Bill’s pie safe depicts storm clouds coming over a mountain range. “When I get home, I just look at that, and it gives me pleasure. It calms me down. I have seen clouds just like that in Montana and New Mexico.”
A wide center hall connects the family room to the living room with a row of bedrooms on one side. The original beadboard walls are in place with high ceilings overhead. The Webbs enjoy the front porch in warm weather, sitting in the rockers with a morning cup of coffee, or catching a breeze and watching the sun set over the fields at dusk.
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The outbuildings include an old corn crib that Debbie transformed into a one bedroom guest house with a living room and kitchen. Out back are the kennels that house the Webbs’ 18 bird dogs.
Bill has a keen interest in his dogs. “If we have an opening (at the business) on a Saturday I will get out and try a dog.” Otherwise, he just enjoys “messing” with them. Late in the day he will go out back to check on the dogs. “I’ll walk down the line and rub their noses and talk to them. It gets you level.”
well_9 Only one of Bill’s three daughters shares his love of the sport. Jenna Webb, a gunsmith in Fayetteville, has hunted with him over the years. Daughters Olivia and Holly prefer ’fly fishing.
“I don’t care which sport they choose as long as they get outdoors,” he said. “Those are the people in the future who will try to promote conservation and will protect the habitats.” And, hopefully, like Bill and Debbie, preserve the landmark country homes.

Coming Home

Filed Under (Pinehurst, Southern Pines, The Area) by Clark Properties on 20-11-2013

Southern PInes Villa

 

By DeBorah Salomon • Photograhs By John Gessner

I want this to be about the house, not me.”
Maureen Clark, wearing a owing brown tunic with crocheted trim over pants nipped at the ankle, sits at her butcher-block kitchen counter surrounded by tiles and pottery in country-French blue. Art is everywhere — some so costly she had to skim a little off every paycheck, some framed pictures drawn by her children which, at first glance, pass for professional abstracts. Their portraits, painted while engaged in everyday activities (shing, swinging in Mommy’s high heels), enliven the formal living room.
Is that a TV in the corner?
Maureen’s bedroom is girlishly (but not cloyingly) — ruffles, checks, soft green and rose, primitive pine armoire — yet throughout the house carpet and fabric patterns, as well as her outfit, suggest the Middle East — Iran perhaps, where the military family was posted for four years.It makes the movie Argo look familiar.

 

Luxury Home PInehurst

 

Maureen is petite. The rooms, although many, have modest proportions in keeping with cottages built circa 1920s. Their delight is in the details — hundreds, intensely personal.
Her house, herself.“There is no place I’d rather live than Southern Pines,” writer-businesswoman-equestrian Maureen Clark begins.Fittingly, then, her home borders downtown, built on land purchased from the Boyds — a field passage for horses and hounds between Weymouth and Highland Pines Inn. Every day Maureen walks her dogs down Weymouth Road, remembering happy years spent playing with her four siblings in their home on Ridge Street, later the house with wraparound porch, on the corner of Indiana Avenue. Since then, life has taken Maureen to several continents and six houses — all of them restorations. In 1998 she was living in Fayetteville, in a house designed by Aymar Embrey II of Weymouth, Loblolly and other historic Moore County estates when her father became ill. She visited him in Southern Pines several times a week. “I drove by (this house) and saw a for sale sign. I almost bought it sight unseen. This was the perfect spot — it felt like home.”
Her perfect spot, built in 1923, had been the residence/studio of an artist, then Pilot editor Cad Benedict, a great friend of artist Glen Rounds, who walked over often. During World War II the house became apartments for officers. Location, perfect. Condition, less than.

 

Luxury Home Southern Pines

 

With her older children away at school, Maureen purchased the house and, with 5-year-old Stephen, moved into the tiny guest cottage during renovations. “I was the neighborhood eyesore for a year.”She began by building out in several directions while rearranging interior space shotgun-style – a clear line of sight from entranceway through the living room, dining room, kitchen to the new back foyer leading onto a porch. Because of this irregular configuration protected by fences, trees, vines and shrubs, the house, from the outside, appears smaller than 3,100 square feet. Main oor rooms including, the master suite, tiny sitting-room/den/boudoir with adorable white chaise. Guest and family bedrooms are clustered around the stairwell — close to yet private from public areas, offering a surprise behind each paneled door.

 

Luxury Formal Dining Room

 

Luxury Kitchen Pinehurst

 

The trick to living with family heirlooms, eclectic art, designer furniture and road-side nds is making everything hang together without obstructing the comings and goings of ve children and ve grandchildren. Except for a matriarchal portrait and custom-made mahogany bar from Iran, the pine-paneled entranceway, with hunting motifs and peaked ceiling, borders on rustic. On Christmas morning children pile onto the white living room sofa fronted by a red lacquer and gilt Queen Anne table because there is no great room, “family” room or entertainment center, which explains the TV rarely found in living rooms of this caliber.
Here, in splendid surroundings, is where Maureen’s teenagers hung out.
Photos and small treasures cover every surface.

 

Villa North Carolina

 

“I have lots of doodads,” Maureen admits.
Unmistakably, this is a woman’s domain.A dressy black and gilt round table with Charleston chairs fills the small dining room. Her children gather at this table for after-dinner political discussions, sometimes heated. Maureen chose to hang an antique French cut-glass chandelier over the table despite the low ceiling, enabling guests to touch and admire the baubles.
Photographs of Maureen’s great-great-grandparents stand guard over meals and discussions. The great-great-grandfather from Missippippi pic-tured lost a leg in the Civil War — but survived.
Just behind the galley kitchen with practical wood countertops protected by naturally occurring antimicrobial substances is son Stephen’s room, virtually as it was, reminiscent of English nursery with window seat, blue ticking wallpaper, a worn leather armchair — even the original window poufs. Maureen explains that wallpaper throughout duplicates what hung in Fayetteville — all absolutely stunning, including a bathroom with a large white block print on a paper-bag brown background. The guest room, with twin wrought iron high-post beds, deep sea blue fabrics and bowls filled with Iranian donkey beads duplicates a magazine photo she loves. Even wall décor is personal: framed Mother’s Day cards, snow geese painted by Maureen’s college roommate, photographs and prints from her grandmother’s house, a depiction of Moore County hounds by Southern Pines equine artist Claudia Coleman counteracted by a startling abstract from Chapel Hill artist Paul Hrusovsky. Persian carpets dominate except for a white woven rug in Maureen’s bedroom, with a few threads chewed loose by Gus, her black Lab puppy.
“That’s all right . . . I’d rather have a puppy than a rug.”
Upstairs is another world, formerly the “frat house,” during high school and college years. Now, the reimaged attic provides a richly contemporary ofce-sit-ting room with, as focal point, a Thomas Link abstract similar to ones hanging in the N.C. Museum of Art in Raleigh.
“I bought it out of the back of an art dealer’s car,” Maureen says. “It took a while to pay for it.” Additional guest quarters on this level resemble dormer-ed Cape Cod B&B attic rooms, sparsely furnished, in nautical blues.In all, ve bedrooms and four bathrooms (including the huge master-suite bath-dressing room Maureen added), each cleverly tucked away, each artistic, each illustrating a time or place in Maureen’s life.

Pinehurst Villa

 

The single nicest thing about this house is there’s a pretty view from each window…”

 

 

 

 

 

Art and memorabilia aside, “The single nicest thing about this house is there’s a pretty view from each window,” Maureen says. “I saw that the rst time I walked through it.”

 

 

Luxury Bedroom Pinehurst NC

 

Covered Porch North Carolina

 

Her acre of prime Weymouth real estate owns many parts: An interior designer rents the doll-house cottage. The stone patio along with three seating areas under the trees accommodates party over ow. A manicured grassy section was once used for basketball, baseball and soccer. Fencing makes the area dog heaven. Even here, as with her wallpaper, Maureen continued the past. She moved forty camellias from Fayetteville, then created informality by replanting forsythia and azaleas in clumps. She chose to soften the pine grove (“they looked like telephone poles”) with dogwoods and a yoshino cherry. The redbud tree sprung up on its own. Still standing: an ancient oak split by the ice storm of 2002. Herbs and geraniums ll stoneware planters.
Nowhere are the street or neighboring houses visible.
“I like the outside as much as the inside,” Maureen says. “I can see the sunset from the porch” which, although furnished in handsome brown wicker with dark blue upholstery, is not screened.
Because Maureen prefers open porches. And, after all, this house is very much Maureen Clark.

Gone West

Filed Under (General Interest) by Clark Properties on 31-10-2013

As friends from back home discover,  a real cattle drive is about the wide open spaces and small comforts by Maureen Clark

Western Living

The friendship between a Southern lawyer, Jim Van Camp, and a young rancher, Hip Tillett, began with a handshake and a warm Montana welcome to the TX Ranch over thirty-five years ago.  “I had seen an ad for the working ranch. It said ‘Don’t just go out West. Live it.’ I decided to give it a try,” Jim Van Camp remembers.  He arrived in Montana on his Harley with teenage son Richie in tow. “I was struck immediately with the romance of it,” the attorney admits. Today Van Camp’s V3Bar branded cattle are mixed into the larger Tillett herd on the over 8,000-acre ranch stradling the southern Montana border west of the Big Horn River along the Pryor Mountain Range. Over the years, the strong bond that grew between the Tillett and Van Camp families has served as a bridge from Southern Pines to the West.

Rattling off names of friends he has encouraged to sign on for the TX drives, Van Camp got to fty pretty quickly. Tommy Howe from Pinebluff, June O’Connell, Betsy and Larry Best, George and Mickey Wirtz, Reg Miller are just to name a few. No one, however, took to moving and working cattle with more heart than the beloved Southern Pines horseman LP Tate. “I liked going out for the last drive of the season (taking the herd to a winter range in Wyoming),” Van Camp explains. “Hip would give me a call, then I would talk to LP. He would get on a plane and come every time.” Tate, who died last year, is revered locally as a founding personality of the Moore County equestrian community. Traces of his beautiful Starland Farm mark the golf course at Longleaf on Midland Road, a standing memorial to his part in the resort’s early history”

That first year, it was just me and Richie, and three more guests,” Van Camp recalls. He was introduced to the TX Ranch from a generation that took Montana from land grants to cattle ranges the hard way. The ranch has been in the Tillet family over a hundred years. Hip’s mother, Abe, was part Lakota Indian and could cook from a campre like Julia Child in a gourmet kitchen. She was known for her sticky buns and blueberry pies.  His grandmother Bessie delivered mail in the territory on a mule and told stories of running from Indians on the Crow reservation. In fact, the Custer battleeld lies a touch north, then due east with no interruption except the ™ow of the Big Horn River. The Tilletts were instrumental in donating land and establishing the Pryor Mountain Wild Horse Range described on Montana maps. Hip Tillett’s father, Lloyd, came up with the idea of guest ranching in the ’70s. Van Camp remembers the early setup. A few guests. No tents. They slept on the ground. No showers. “Once a week we took our horses out into the lake, about chest high, at the Beaver Dam and put our clothes up on the saddle. We bathed in the water. Put our clothes back on and rode out.” The conditions may have changed slightly, but the overall work of the ranch remains the same.The Tilletts’ home base in Lovell, Wyoming, is near Crooked Creek, the winter range for their 1,000 or so head of predominately Black Angus cattle. (In Montana, creek is pronounced and spelled “crick.” Natives know.) In April, the herd is moved into Montana for the spring and summer ranges. Before the cold sets in hard, October or November, there is a drive back to Lovell. During the intervening months the cattle are worked, section by section, in a series of roundups based from one of two camps, Lone Wolf or Deadman. The daily work involves first finding the cattle, who are happily spread out across the countryside, and then gathering them together for brand-ing, tagging, castrating or inoculations as necessary.

Western Living

So what is the lure? How do the Tilletts draw “part-time cowboys” to their ranch, many of whom return year after year, for dust, hard work, long hours, a tent and outhouse, then ask them to pay for the privilege? A recent trip to TX with Van Camp’s daughter, Ashley, and his 14-year-old-grandson, Campbell Jourdian, provided insight. Ashley, the owner of the popular Ashten’s Restaurant in downtown Southern Pines, has been to TX more times than she can count. Son Campbell, an accomplished rider who fox hunts, and events, has been angling to go back all summer. “I don’t know how to explain it,” Ashley says. “But you’ll see. That outdoor shower (from the hanging, sun-heated plastic bag) will be the best shower you’ve ever had in your life.”

On day one, Hip and his wife, Loretta, tall, blonde and sparkling with kindness, gathered their recruits from various hotels in down-town Billings. The couple embody a characteristic President Teddy Roosevelt once noted in cowboys: “They treat a stranger with the most wholehearted hospitality, doing all in their power for him.” The group of eighteen that pitched their gear into the waiting vehicles were from Sweden, Britain, Montreal, Oregon, Indiana, Virginia and Brooklyn. Six were returning veterans. While Campbell vied for a seat next to Hip on the way out so he could start negotiating for a spot as wrangler, Ashley commented knowingly, “By the end of the week you are going to love these guys.”

No electricity. No indoor plumbing. No cell coverage.

Montana, like most of the western United States, is experiencing a drought. The ride from Billings, southeast to the range at the foot of the Pryor Mountains, took several hours going from a rustic two-lane highway to miles of dirt roads winding through gates and expanses of barbed wire fencing. Whorls of red dust marked the progress to Lone Wolf. Camp was a gathering of tents tucked under a spread of squat, box elder trees, a stick-built corral, log cabin with dining tables and kitchen, a deep spring-fed water tank, two outhouses, a campre and two beach-type outdoor showers. Importantly, a stone-framed root cellar, dug into the side of a hill, provided cool storage for the food supplies, a critical feature of every Montana home-stead or ranch built in the outlands in the last century. The perimeter was fenced in barbed wire to keep horses in and maybe whatever howled or roamed at night out. No electricity. No indoor plumbing. No cell coverage.

The parallels to Billy Crystal and Jack Palance were inescapable, particularly as the group lined up the first morning to be interviewed by Hip and matched to a pair of horses that would be used on alternating days for the week. Campbell won his quest for the head wrangling spot. He slipped out of his tent in the darkness before dawn to bring the horse herd down from the pasture with the help of two outriders.  By sunrise and breakfast an hour later, the herd would be thundering across the ridge and down into camp.

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Wrangling involves moving horses, not cattle. The Tillets keep about fty-five horses shod, using about twenty each day. There are over one-hundred additional horses on the ranch in various stages of breeding, training and rest. With the herd stirring up dust in the corral, one by one Hip made his matches.  Moving down the line, Hip, a permanent twinkle in his eye, and a curb on his ready wit, focused on pairing riders and horses. The man has what you might call Montana mettle, a steel and grit beneath the polite surface, that has been tempered by years of dealing with the elements. This year it is the drought. Last year it may have been an early winter, ™food or injury.

gone-west4The first difference between Crystal’s lm version and TX reality was the high comfort level of the riders with horses, although each came from a different equestrian background. And, secondly, the high quality of the horses in the Tillett herd. Sporting no-nonsense names like Cash, Gus, Biscuit, Chicken, Splat, Moose, Marble and Dirt, the horses did not bolt, kick, bite or display anything less than solid behavior all week. A smattering are named for Southern Pines friends like Russell (Tate) and Tommy (Howe). A number of the horses came from Jim Van Camp, who enjoys going to the horse sales in Billings, the largest in the nation.

Southern Pines native and Wyoming transplant Sam Morton, in writing about the horses of this area in southern Montana and northern Wyoming in his book, Where the Rivers Run North, describes them as “the best horses in the world. The grassland grows strong-boned, hard-footed, and long-winded horses. The horses raised here are tougher; they are fed from the land their ances-tors grazed, and watered from the melted snow that ™ows from the mountains.”

Hip assigned a different section of the range each day for rounding up cattle. Some destinations were a three-hour ride. Campbell, trading his cowboy hat for a baseball hat turned backward, always took the longer rides and generally rode with ranch hand Pancho (Ryan Moody). By early afternoon, one or two o’clock, a large, milling herd was assembled. Lunch arrived by pickup truck. Then the work of branding, ear tagging and inoculating the younger calves began. First, however, the skittish critters had to be spotted, roped and thrown down. Hip’s daughter, Des, tall like her mother, beautiful, and a masterful roper, worked her way through the herd snagging calves by the back leg. Campbell teamed with a teenager from Oxford, England. Together, they would grab the tail, push the calf off balance, then hold down both ends for the work at hand. The task was proportionately difcult according to the size of the calf. The boys were matched in the dirt wrestling matches by the laughter, enthusiasm and pure spunk of two college coeds, Anna Paseka and Grace Littleeld, from Brooklyn, New York, appropriately dubbed the “A Team.

“The heat is dry, and a day on the range feels like slow baking in an oven. Several days the wind blew on the ™flats where the cattle were herded powdering every surface — faces, hats, horses — with a thick red dust. The functioning reason for every piece of cowboy garb and equipment from hat to spurs became explanatory. There was no shade during the day. A cowboy hat is a mini umbrella throwing down the only shade in a circle as wide as the brim. The bandannas keep sun off your neck, sweat off your brow and dust out of your nose and mouth.

gone-west4The long, needle-sharp thorns of hawthorne snag and untie a laced boot but not the western version. The thorns also rip shirts, cut hands and pierce blue jeans. Dense copses of hawthorne are the favorite hiding places of sneaky cattle. They stand still and you can ride right by. Flushing them out requires voice intimidation, then stick threatening, and lastly crawling under the thorny branches to chase them out. Unless, of course, the herding dogs are nearby, then life is sweet. The Tillets have three border collies and two Australian shepherds that are absolute wizards.

Spurs, the clanging, boot clinging symbol of a cowboy, are also essential. Once the cow and calf are out of the under-brush, they can turn and sprint right back unless a horse can move quickly to cut them off. A touch of the spur signals the message quickly. Ashley believes that the sound of spurs clanging also serves to scare off bears when a cowboy has to step into the woods.

The younger folks, in the evenings around the campre, would practice roping. They roped chairs, rocks and each other in preparation for a chance to rope from horseback at week’s end. They all proved capable when the time came. The surprise superstar of calf roping, however, turned out to be a French dressage rider from Montreal, Brigette Charbonneau. Although she looked like a model who had walked right out of a western Ralph Lauren ad, she took instantly to roping. The seemingly impossible of catching the back hoof of a moving calf, hiding behind mom in a milling herd mixed with restless bulls, came easy. Throughout the dusty after-noon, the call of “Got one” consistently came from Brigette. Encouragement for all efforts at roping came from those on the perimeter, often in the form of cowboy trash talk. The laughter, the effort, the fun and pulling for each other bound the group together. Ashley was right.

gone-west4Like her father she is captured by the romance. Explanations of the magic are frustrating. The terrain is an opportunity to experience a breathtaking vista in every direction. The beauty is overwhelming with the Pryor Mountains on the horizon, hills and plains rolling toward the Big Horn in the other. The panoramic views are beyond the scope of a camera lense and words. The closest comparable in North Carolina would be the vast view of the Atlantic Ocean from the height of Jockey’s Ridge with a 360-degree spin around.

Maybe, in the end, in a place where everything is big and awe inspiring, the sky, the horizon, the hills, the herds, the vistas and the land it is really about the small things after all:  a warm shower, a good horse, a cowboy’s hospitality, the glow of a campre, the time to make a friend, laughter and a steam-ing cup of coffee. “It’s a way of life,” Van Camp re™flects. “And it is very real.” The most poignant memory from his years at TX was the funeral of Hip’s father, Lloyd Tillett. “He was the last of the real cowboys,” he said. “I will never forget that simple pine casket with handles made from turned around horseshoes. The TX brand was burned into the wood and tumbleweed was by his hat. It was so beautiful.”  The little things.

Maureen Clark is a frequent contributor to PineStraw Magazine.