According to the article and photos, Love Valley looked just like an authentic Western town with a saloon, general store, hitching posts, and dozens of trails for riding. In fact, the "town" was built for riders to go and feel just like they were in the Old West. This sounded exactly like what we were looking for.
Right after we went to Körner's Folly, Marsha and I had a rare Sunday afternoon to just ourselves, so after church, we decided to drive over to Love Valley, have some lunch, and check it out. Sure enough, the GPS in my new car (which we'd already found to be less than reliable) took us on the most convoluted route possible. But we found the area soon enough (as evidenced by all the horse stables and the giant list of rules for riders) and knew that within minutes we'd pull up in front of the saloon.
Instead, we found ourselves on a dead-end road in a church parking lot. That was the first sign that all was not to be what we'd expected. After reprogramming the GPS, driving around in a big circle, and ending up right back in the church parking lot again, we realized what we'd done wrong. The saloon and the whole "town" itself wasn't on an actual street, so the GPS was just taking us to the closest spot that was. So we drove back to the town "entrance," and tried to park, but the only parking lot was an unmarked dirt lot full of horse trailers and motorcycles. It wasn't really designed for visitors. After the motorcycles left, we were able to finally park and go get some lunch at the saloon.
As soon as we strolled into town like the couple of greenhorn hombres that we were, I immediately steered us to the wooden walkways than ran the length of the town. That was both to get the full Old West experience (really needed some spurs) and to avoid all of the horse poop in the street.
I have to admit, with all the horses tied up along the hitching rails, the authentic weathered clapboard buildings, and dirt street (no grass like Dodge City) full of horse poop, it felt just like the real deal. Especially with all of the horses tied up outside the General Store. Much more Little Big Man than Gunsmoke.
After we walked to the other end of town and checked out the walking/biking/riding trails. We momentarily entertained the idea of a hike, but opted against it since we still hadn't had lunch and it was already getting close to 3:00.
We found the saloon across the street, steered ourselves around the big pile of poop in front of the steps, and went inside to check it out. The Western theme didn't carry as much inside. It looked more like the biker bar in Pee-wee's Big Adventure. I was game, but Marsha said she "wasn't feeling it," so we ventured further down the walk to the General Store & Cafe. The windows were all covered up with stickers and flyers to where we couldn't even get a glimpse inside. Neither one of us were feeling it there, so we decided we'd spent enough time in Love Valley. We'd spent a grand total of about twenty minutes there. So much for suggesting it to Lynn.
After we got back in the car and hit the road for Statesville to eat there (which ended up not working out either, since almost everything was closed for Labor Day weekend), Marsha perfectly summed up why we hadn't taken to Love Valley. It was like we'd walked in on a party to which we hadn't been invited. The magazine had billed it as a tourist attraction, but it's really more of a club for people who own and ride horses. Not really geared towards tourists at all (hence the absence of signs pointing us in the right direction). But we still had a good time checking it out and having an excursion together. Even trips that don't exactly work out can make for fun memories.
No comments:
Post a Comment