“How do you think he survives in there?”
“Maybe it grows a spear out of its head and shocks the other fish that get near. Maybe it’s the Electric Spear Fish that mutated out in the desert.”
We were leaning over the deck at the Silver Saddle Ranch & Club contemplating the moxy of a single itty bitty koi fish in a swarm of gigantic koi feasting on the pellets our boys tossed in the pond. The boys began to tease the fish, simply because it was irresistible—any time they made a gesture over the water, the pack of fish would wrestle to the top, pushing their gaping mouths to catch the nonexistent food. It was in that turning, bubbling, and squirming that we spied the little, white baby koi, just a smidge of the size of his fellow fish, which looked big enough to knock a pillar out from under the deck if they pleased.
The sun was setting in the Mojave Desert, giving the land a break from its daily beating. Lounging on the deck, cool drinks in hand, watching koi pummel each other, it was hard to believe the day had reached a sweaty 91 degrees. Shady willow trees all around us swung slowly in the dusk’s soft breeze, and we walked barefoot through the damp, green grass to our room. It was evening in the desert but you’d never know it.
The Silver Saddle Ranch & Club is about three hours from Santa Maria in California City, a tiny town about a half-hour outside of Lancaster. It is a virtual oasis out in the desert. Well, it’s pretty much an actual oasis out in the desert. There is not much but desert all around; several motor homes where dirt bikers camp and ride, some brush, and the occasional snake spread across the road sunning itself. Then, suddenly, there is the ranch—a sprawling ground of lush greenery, ponds, and shade.
Silver Saddle Ranch is usually a members only place but with the economy slowing things down, it’s opened to the public. The 45-room ranch offers archery, trap and skeet shooting, paddle boats, swimming, a petting zoo, a spa and hair salon, a nine-hole golf course, a miniature golf course, an equestrian center, cycling, and just about anything else that will help you work up a thirst, with room prices that rival most economy hotels. The place is completely family friendly, with a saloon, where kids are welcome until 10 p.m., and as anyone who has spent a hot desert night with their family knows, that is a total plus. On weekends they offer karaoke, which we totally did not do because they didn’t have enough alcohol to get me up there. Really, I was thinking about everyone else—I wouldn’t subject sober people to my singing. The thought of me belting out some Britney Spears song scared my boys and they threatened to hide out in the game room for the rest of the night, which I think was just a convenient excuse to hang out and play Wii and Playstation.
So instead of subjecting my kids to torture by embarrassment, we had an early dinner at the restaurant, which was still pretty quiet except for one other family with a 1-year-old, and the echo of conversation between that kid and my Sebastian.
“Raaaahaaw,” Sebastian called over to his counterpart.
“Aaahhaaa,” the other baby called back.
Then Sebastian called back to him, and the kid responded. This went on long enough to get both of our families cracking up in the empty restaurant.
The menu was simple—barbecue chicken, ribs, or steak, scalloped potatoes, bread—nothing fancy but it does the job. A hearty meal beneath a large painting of John “The Duke” Wayne, a couple of beers, and the sound of dueling babies pretty much sums up the atmosphere of the Silver Saddle—simple and laid-back, with every kind of activity available if you can muster the energy to partake.
That whole package is what keeps regulars coming back. It also attracts a different kind of regular guest. Management said Silver Saddle is also a seasonal home to a lot of rare and unusual birds that cause bird watchers and Audubon members to, uh, flock to the ranch. Some birds like it so much they have become unofficial representatives. A resident blue heron and a red-breasted house finch often greet visitors.
The day we were scheduled to leave we drove up to the lookout point to survey the area. There was desert as far as the eye could see beyond the ranch’s green borders. I knew the family had a good time when they forced me into my part-time job as Spoiler of All That Is Fun, in which I must wield the “No” with reckless abandon.
“Can we stay here another day?”
“No.”
“We can have our 10th anniversary party here in November and see who drives out?”
“No.”
“Can we live here?”
“No.”
You get the picture.
Arts Editor Shelly Cone has no trouble saying no and would be happy to tell your boss, kids, or husband no for you. Contact her at scone@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in May 28 – Jun 4, 2009.