Last September, I had an epiphany while spending a couple of nights at Alpine Falls Ranch in Superior, Montana. Sometime between ages 30 and 60, I forgot how to dance!

While quietly eating dinner by myself in the ranch’s Six8 Saloon, a group of women from Atlanta sidled up to the bar and ordered a round of cocktails. A few minutes later, Jason, the ranch manager, introduced Ashley, a dance instructor from nearby Missoula, to the women at the bar. Dance instructor? Apparently, the Atlantans wanted to line dance as part of their Alpine Falls experience, and the ranch was happy to set it up.

Line dancing is a choreographed dance in which a group of people, standing in rows, repeat a pattern of steps, usually without partners or physical contact. Everyone faces the same direction and turns together as they perform the dance in unison. Line dances are not limited to a particular music genre. “YMCA,” popularized by the late-1970s pop band Village People, and the Macarena are examples of line dances. In Montana, line dancing has a decidedly country-western flare.

“Let’s start with an easy one called the Electric Slide,” said Ashley. “Come join us,” said one of the Atlantans to me. Years ago, I loved to dance and missed it. “Why not?” I thought and shyly made my way to the back of the exuberant bunch.

“Grapevine right. Touch. Grapevine left. Scuff and turn . . .” demonstrated Ashley, who patiently led us through the moves, then added music. I was happy to remain in the back, secretly misstepping as I tried to follow along.

The problem with the Electric Slide is that the lines turn toward each wall as the dance progresses. I started in the back, but by the second turn I was in front, feet fumbling for everyone to see. I finally got it on the fourth try and was grateful to be included in the fun, which is not the norm at Alpine Falls Ranch. One of the things that makes this guest ranch special is a policy it calls “BYOP” (bring your own people). Group functions happen only among guests who travel there together. The ranch curates an itinerary for each party prior to arrival, though I didn’t fully appreciate this personalized touch until I got there.

I was at the ranch alone for a couple days to go horseback riding, shoot some clays, and maybe photograph wildlife if the opportunity arose. (Line dancing was an unexpected bonus.) It was easy to get there, a short drive up a paved two-lane road off of I-90 about 50 minutes from Missoula. As soon as I turned off the
interstate, I instantly left civilization. A forest of towering ponderosa pines framed the country road. It felt as if an elk or a mule deer might step out of the woods at any moment. Instead, a flock of Merriam’s wild turkey—smaller than the Eastern wild turkey, with white on the rims of its tail feathers—pecked in the grass beside the lane.

 

First Impression

Upon arrival at the ranch, Peyton, the events coordinator who had helped plan my visit, greeted me by the saloon and checked me into the Stable View Cabin on a hillside shaded by more ponderosas. The “cabin” lived up to its name with a pleasant view of the stables below it, but it was hardly a cabin. It was a comfortable three-bedroom home, decorated in upscale western, with lots of antlers, wood, and leather. In fact, all the cabins scattered around the 850-acre property were residences of former ranch owners.

Likewise, although the Six8 Saloon was a sizeable hall with a long, ornate bar at one end, it was not a saloon per se. Prior to becoming a guest ranch five years ago, the previous owner had two daughters at the University of Montana in Missoula. Their parents built the saloon for sorority formals, so if things got rowdy, they would know their daughters were okay. It was quite the place for a private party! Besides the huge bar that harkened back to the Old West, there was a sitting area with soft leather couches, impressive Western artwork and sculptures, and unusual taxidermy, including a pint-sized card table with stuffed racoons posing as poker players.

“Would you like breakfast in your cabin?” asked Peyton. “And where would you like lunch and dinner?” At first, her questions confused me. I assumed all meals would be in the Six8 Saloon, which looked like a dining room. In fact, the ranch chef prepared guest meals in the restaurant-like kitchen through a door behind the bar. Other guest ranches that I had previously visited had a common dining room where everyone gathered for meals. However, at Alpine Falls Ranch, meals were at your whim. Cook them yourself in your cabin—the kitchens were fully outfitted—or have the ranch chef prepare your meals and then either deliver them to your cabin or eat in the saloon. I opted for breakfast in the house but lunch and dinner in the saloon, mainly for a change of scenery. I was glad for the privacy but didn’t need to be a hermit. Luckily, the ladies from Atlanta were a welcoming group. So was everyone else at the ranch.

 

Sporting Clays

The next morning, Peyton had scheduled me for sporting clays. At the appointed hour, I walked the short distance to the designated meeting spot. It was technically not a sporting clays layout. Sporting clays has different target presentations set up at stations around a course. Instead, there was a high house and low house for skeet, and trap house in the middle, all facing a sizeable, grassy field. The skeet and the trap setups were informal, without standard “pegs” (places to stand).

“Stand wherever you wish,” said Jason, the ranch manager who stopped by to turn on the traps. “Is it just me?” I asked, still not fully acquainted with the degree of personalization at Alpine Falls and wondering how I might press the button to release a clay target and shoot at the same time. “My partner Sarah loves sporting clays and would be glad to join you,” he offered. “She shot competitively before we moved here.” I was glad for the offer, not only for someone to “pull” the targets but also because it would be more fun to shoot with another person.

Jason called Sarah, who was there within minutes. He shot a couple of times, then left us to attend to his other ranch duties. Sarah and I shot another dozen targets as the skies darkened, then an unexpected downpour forced us to take shelter in the skeet low house. As we watched raindrops meld into a gray wall of water, I learned that Sarah and Jason had moved to the ranch from Virginia in 2020, during COVID, to start the guest ranch. Two years later, Alpine Falls expanded by a third after acquiring another the ranch across the street called the Bear Ranch. The property also borders 2.2-million-acre Lolo National Forest, where guests often see elk, mule, white-tailed deer, black and grizzly bears, and . . . a llama?

 

Unlikely Livestock

“That’s Doc,” explained Danika, the ranch’s horse wrangler on a trail ride that afternoon after the weather cleared up. It was a private ride, just me and Danika. As I had experience on horseback, it was a casual outing with time to talk. No horses nose to tail in a long string behind a guide, which is more common elsewhere in the West on trail rides. In fact, my horse, Dibbs, liked to lead. Danika didn’t mind.

Doc raised his head and watched us pass from the middle of a pasture. Then another llama raised its head. “That’s Huck,” said Danika, referring to the other llama. “Doc was left to roam freely when a former llama farm went out of business. He eventually found his way to Alpine Falls Ranch, where he now guards the ranch’s miniature donkeys, along with Huck, another llama that the ranch got to keep Doc company.”

“Where are the cattle?” I asked Danika. Most guest ranches have cattle that guests on horseback can sometimes help round up. It’s an activity that lets a visitor feel like a cowboy on their vacation, but not at Alpine Falls Ranch. “There are no cattle here, except for a couple miniature Scottish Highlanders, which are in with the donkeys,” replied Danika. “They’re shaggy and cute. Kids love to meet them.”

A few minutes later, we rode past a corral with a dozen or so goats in it. “Jason calls them ‘meat’ goats,’” explained Danika, as the goats trotted to the farthest end of the fence to watch us ride by. “A contingency of buying the Bear Ranch was taking care of their goat herd. They’re pets. They can be naughty, but no one plans to eat them.”

We rode through a field on the Bear Ranch where an episode of the reality television show The Real Housewives of Orange County was filmed. “They stayed in wall tents over there,” said Danika, pointing to place where a campfire had been. “If someone wants to glamp in a tent like they did, we’ll set it up for them.”

As we started up a trail into the woods, I tried to imagine those pampered, urban housewives sleeping in canvas wall tents, feeling as if they were roughing it even though they were glamping. Then, my thoughts wandered to the forest surrounding me. Periodically, mountains appeared between the sturdy bark pillars. The scenery was peaceful and beautiful in a way that calms the soul. Or was that the atmosphere cultivated by the ranch?

Alpine Falls Ranch is not a typical guest ranch. It has its own brand of Western magic. Next time, I’ll bring a few friends. 

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