My first encounter with Chico began in 2018 when I discovered a leather shop online and ordered a dog collar for my pup, Bear. The collar was beautifully crafted, complete with his name stamped on it. When it arrived, I immediately put it on Bear, snapped a photo of my proud dog, and sent my thanks back to the shop. Their warm response marked the beginning of a connection that felt genuine.

In early 2021, I planned a solo trip to Chico to reflect on the changes of the past few years. I called to inquire about how soon I could visit and arrived in mid-March, only to be greeted by one of the worst blizzards the state had seen. Having grown up in snowy conditions, I was still unprepared for the wind in this storm. The last twelve miles of my journey were particularly challenging; I drove with my window down, relying on the grassy edge of the road and my GPS to navigate. Upon reaching the gate of Chico, the storm ceased, and the sun broke through the clouds. My guide for the week, a remarkable cowgirl, welcomed me with the words, “Follow me in your truck and leave some space; this road is a little dodgy today.” It was more than just a little dodgy, as we navigated over thirty minutes of snowy, muddy ranch roads to reach May Camp, my home for the week.

Each evening at Chico dinner is hosted by a different group that lives on the ranch. On my first night, I felt relief at not having to sleep in my truck on the side of the road. The following night, I dined at Tess and David's house, where Tess's cooking—ham and bean soup with all the fixings—was delightful, but it was the authentic conversation that left the lasting impression. The third night, I had the pleasure of dining with a lively group of four young women at the bachelorette house. I shared my love story with my wife, and their enthusiasm made the evening memorable. As I drove home that night along the same ranch road, the moon was so bright that I turned off my headlights and navigated by moonlight, carefully turning right after the second cattle guard. I later learned that for many of the ranch crew, I was the first guest they had cooked for. During dinner with Little Duke and Madi, we bonded over our shared passion for flying, as both Duke and his father are pilots, and my dad has a small plane.

During my stay at Chico, we rode horses daily, covering great distances. One day, we moved heifers to a new pasture, and another day, we herded a large group of cattle. I had ridden horses before, but never with such purpose or for such extended periods. I vividly remember wading through tumbleweeds at the gate and being amazed by the guides’ extensive knowledge of the land, plants, and birds. These long rides allowed me to appreciate Chico’s beauty and diversity far beyond what I had imagined from the road.