A Lazy Sunday the 4B Ranch
A little less than a year-and-a-half after I discovered the 4B Ranch, we once again find ourselves sitting on the top of a mountain in Medina, looking beyond the hills to the endless sky. However, today my teeth don’t chatter; we can see forever, the weather is high summer, and I am correctly dressed.
It is a truly lazy Sunday morning. Dining alfresco, I take the last bite of my version of huevos rancheros and finish my miniature blueberry muffin. Sitting back with a full glass of fruity sangria, I congratulate myself for thinking ahead and making breakfast a snap by cooking the chili-spiked tomato sauce earlier this week, freezing it, then packing it in our cooler along with a few other needed items for this weekend.
But I’m not that good, suddenly I remember that I forgot.
“I didn’t pack the asparagus for tonight’s dinner,” I groan. Thinking we can just run into town and pick some up at the local market—if it is even open on Sunday—if there is a local market.
Michael solves the problem by telling me he is not leaving this—not quite a mountain, but surely more than a hill—Shangri La to buy asparagus. The truth is I don’t want to leave this sanctuary either. I remember we have half a cantaloupe left; a strange accompaniment for grilled tenderloin and baked potatoes, but…
4B Ranch – At the Edge of Beyond
Looking out beyond the edge of the large patio, beyond the graveled path, and beyond the large rocks that stand guard—reminding everyone that from this point on the earth descends—Michael points and says, “I bet there isn’t a town for two hundred miles northwest of here—over that big rock—no city lights to outshine the stars.”
Google Maps says he’s right. Of course, he’s right. He always seems to be right. If any crow flew a straight-line northwest, the first town it would bump into is tiny Eldorado, the next one—Midland. We are at the edge of beyond. I can only thank the owner of the 4B Ranch, Jeff Bearden, for buying these 700 acres, stocking it with wild game, building a hunting lodge, and then renting it out when his friends aren’t visiting. If there ever was a place to escape to, to chill out, to forget everything else, this is it.
A Walk and Dinner
The mid-day heat sends us inside the walls of our weekend retreat. The furniture is soft squishy leather and two walls of windows bring the outdoors in. We nap. Talk. Read. And chill. Later in the afternoon, Michael says, “Let’s go for a walk.” Donning my walking sandals, I realize why cowboys wear boots the minute I stub my toe on a short, squat piece of nettle. “I’m bleeding!”
“Not much. You need to look where you are walking.” But I was. I thought.
We eat perfect grilled tenderloin with a smoky paprika sauce and drink dark red wine. We walk to a large flat rock, sitting, watching for wild game, inhaling the view, the setting sun.
A Tour of the 4B Ranch
5:30 am comes too soon. I stumble into the kitchen, grab a cup of coffee and try to wake up. Ronnie, the ranch manager, will be here at 6:30 to take us on a tour of the ranch in search of the elusive exotic game: Axis, Aoudad, Fallow Deer, Black Buck, Gemsbok, Red Lechwe, Dybowski Sika Deer, and Nubian Ibex—they have lots of places to hide, but you would think we could find at least one of something.
With the sun barely thinking about peeking over the mountain top, I see Ronnie walking across the long patio, a large container of coffee in one hand, a big black rifle in the other. As I climb in the back of the Mule I notice that Ronnie is wearing a long-sleeved windbreaker shirt. Me, I’m wearing a thin black gauze blouse and jeans. Michael is in a short-sleeved t-shirt. As we speed along at twenty MPH with the early morning wind in my hair and piercing the thin shirt that I wear, I wish I had a jacket; July 10, and there is a distinct chill in the morning air. I’m thinking we live in the wrong part of Texas.
To our right, off the main ranch road, we see a herd of Gemsbok. Ronnie tells us he feels like they are the most dangerous wild game on the ranch, their horns can be lethal. I’m glad I’m on wheels. Wild hogs also roam these hills. I know they are mean. I’m glad Ronnie has a gun.
The Land
The sun peeks blindingly over the far horizon. My sunglasses quickly replace the clear lenses on my nose. The morning, the landscape, it is all breathtakingly beautiful, nothing but endless hills and valleys spread before me. The neighboring ranch is a mere 17,000 acres.
We nose down a hill, obliterating the sun in the shade of a narrow steep valley—a hollow I’m told. There are natural springs. Ronnie stops the Mule and we step out to look around. I receive a warning that this is wild country, there are venomous snakes and at one time, the place where we stand was called Copperhead Hollow. My naked toes are feeling just a tiny bit vulnerable. I climb back into the Kawasaki ATV.
Ronnie is so knowledgeable about the animals, the terrain, the trees; you can tell by what he says and how he says it that he enjoys what he does—he loves this land. I tell him it seems to me he has an ideal job. He straightens me out saying, “I’d say it’s the best job in the world.”
Texas Longhorns at the 4B Ranch
After a few hours of many questions and long lessons, climbing, nosing down, and climbing again, we pass through a gate that takes us to the lower 200 acres. This area does not seem quite as wild as the other. Suddenly the Mule stops its forward motion in the middle of a tree-studded, gently rising field. We see several Texas Longhorn’s hiding behind the vegetation.
Our guide walks around to the back of the vehicle, grabs a large sack and spreads the contents on the ground. The sound of feed hitting earth is a magnet—I have never seen so many of this Texas icon so close. I step out of the vehicle on the opposite side of the cattle and climb to the elevated rear seat. The Longhorn’s range in age from eighteen months to eighteen years.
Horns click and thud as they knock one against the other, each cow and each bull trying hard to get their share of the feed. I don’t see how they can be so close and not get tangled up in their horns—at times the tip of one hits the rear end of another and a bit of jostling takes place. Up, on a far hillock, the old man, Gunsmoke, begins his slow amble down to the group. His coloring is beautiful and I feel sad that by the time he arrives all the nuggets have been devoured.
Doodle
I am taken with Doodle, his horns are the widest, spanning almost 100 inches. Podman looks ferocious and I am told he is the leader – the dominant bull that no one messes with.
After a nice long visit with the herd, more lessons—on the blood cooling benefits of horns that are so big and so long, artificial insemination, and more—Ronnie climbs back in the Mule and we leave the magnificent beasts behind us, discovering that Doodle is a closet hedonist, as he stands still as death, head down, allowing one of the young Longhorn cows to lick his neck, over and over and over again. It’s like a mother cat grooming her babies. Maybe it’s love.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” comments Ronnie as we leave Doodle in our dust, heading back to the lodge and breakfast and packing and ultimately home. I am already planning our return trip as we fly along the winding road.
4B Ranch
4859 Elam Creek Road, Medina, Bandera County, Texas 78055
Phone: (281) 802-4739 reservations@4branchtexas.com
For information on our first adventure at the 4B Ranch, click on the link below.
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