The Start of Havano Ranch

All my life, I've always wanted horses and horse property. I spent my early years in the horse country of northern Virginia, taking lessons and hanging around at some of the best facilities that were there at the time (sadly, most of them are now housing developments). After I moved to Tucson in the late 1960's, I continued my equine education as much as possible, being around horses at every opportunity, learning to ride from old ranchers, vaqueros and ranch managers that needed an "extra" hand counting cows (I don't know how much of a hand I was, but I always enjoyed the ride!). I wrangled rides at just about every stable in town, mucked stalls, and did whatever else had to be done.

Am I an expert on horses? I know a lot, but I don't know squat. I am not, nor will I ever be an expert. Anyone who thinks they are is sadly mistaken. Now don't get me wrong—I would LOVE to spend equal quality time with Richard Shrake, Pat Parelli, John Lyons, Monty Roberts and Dennis Reis (to name a few) and I have several friends that I'll run to in a heartbeat if I have a problem with any of my horses—and others, although I love them dearly, I will run away from. But no matter how much you know, there's always going to be a horse that will teach you something new. Or someone who will say, "You know, this is what works for me....", or, "I know it's a homemade concoction, but you saw how that wound on my horse healed..." Yes, you need to be a little leary sometimes. But you also need to keep an open mind. If you have so much as a grain of doubt, CALL A VET!

Somewhere along the line, "Dennis" and I found each other. He was my tall, lanky, handsome, spoiled-rotten Palomino. We never did any kind of competition—other than against the forces of gravity—just took trail rides, long walks and enjoyed each other's company. When we moved to Elfrida, he self-appointed himself as the ranch manager. The riding became less—we both developed knee, hip and shoulder problems. But he was always a joy to be around...even when he made a game of sneaking up behind the cat while she was balanced on the edge of the water bucket and pushing her in with one of his famous nose nudges!

In the meantime, I acquired a second horse, Baldy. He's a six year-old Thoroughbred, who really buddied up to everyone. I bought him to race. He has yet to run—other than out the front gate and down the road! Baldy is now residing somewhere in Safford.

So just how did Havano Ranch get started? I'm almost ashamed to say that it more or less started as a joke one dark night a few Februarys ago. I was sitting at home doing two things I don't normally do...sipping (yes—sipping) a shot of whiskey and watching Jay Leno. He was doing a segment on the strange things that people buy on eBay. At the time, there was a piece of toast that was going for a thousand or so dollars. Being a seller on eBay, I found this highly amusing and realized I was trying to sell the wrong things.

On my way out the door the next morning to go see "The Boys" (they were at a boarding stable at the time), I nearly tripped over a box of used horseshoes that I had in the carport. Not suffering too much brain damage from stubbing my toe, an idea came to me. Saint Patrick's Day was coming up. What better "Luck of the Irish" than to have a green horseshoe?

So I painted a bunch of the horseshoes green, made up a malarkey story about how the Leprechauns rode their Palominos thoughout the countryside, the horses had shoes made of special green iron and so forth. I listed the shoes on eBay for Saint Patrick's Day. Everyone at the boarding stable laughed at me. Then the shoes started selling. Everyone at the boarding stable quit laughing.

Now the wheels were spinning and a trip to the hobby shop gave me ideas and I began to put the conchos and beads on them. Next I had to design a package flap....

I took photos of Dennis and Baldy and put them on the back of the flap. They were still at the boarding stable at the time, so in the background you could see white fences and horse trailers. Someone who saw the photos made a comment to me, "Gee you have a nice ranch". I then had to explain to them that while The Boys lived on a "ranch", I still lived in the city. Therefore, I have-a-no ranch. And the name stuck.

As circumstances prevailed, I had to move The Boys to a self-care place. It was a wonderful place in a nice, quiet, secluded area. However, after a year of the self-care, I got fed up with "civilization" (such as it is) and tired of driving back and forth twice a day to feed, ride and see my horses, so I started looking around for one or two acres of horse property in the Tucson area. At the price of Tucson real estate, what property I could afford would have to be burned to the ground and rebuilt from scratch. Since I didn't have a "real job", I realized that it didn't matter where we lived and expanded my search to the Benson area. I found two places online that had good possibilities—one on three acres and the other on five—that were in my price range and they were both listed by the same real estate company. I jotted down the real estate company's phone number, figuring that after I finished feeding and cleaning up after The Boys in the morning, I would give them a call.

Just before I left the house the next morning, I decided to go online and look at the two Benson places again to make sure they were still active. They were, and a third place popped up. I looked at the price and the acreage. Surely one or the other had to be a misprint! After I finished with The Boys, I called the real estate company and got Kellie. I gave her the listing numbers. She told me that the two places in Benson had just been pulled off the market by the sellers, but the third one was still available. A little over an hour later, I was walking into her office. Kellie took me to look at the property and then had to use a lasso and duct tape to get me back into her car. It was just one of those things you "knew" was right the first time you saw it. Two hours later, we were starting the mountains of paperwork.

As fate (and God) would have it, I ended up buying 30 acres about four miles north of Elfrida, Arizona and Havano Ranch became a real ranch in March 2006. It's not quite the Edge Of The Earth, but I can see it from the back patio. I love being out in the middle of nowhere! Dennis and Baldy loved it, too. They had to live in the back yard the first month we were here while a barn was built for them. The first two weeks they were here, they would stand in the back yard and just gaze out at the big empty space all around them. No traffic, no sirens, no ATV's trying to sneak up behind us, no police helicopters, no neighbors...it's great!

So what do we do with 30 acres of mostly tumbleweed? The possibilities are endless, but the first thing that popped into my mind was "horse rescue". Nothing on a large scale—just a Safe Haven where unwanted, neglected, abused and/or forgotten horses can come to be loved and have a better life.

I also would like to see my place develop into a horse-oriented facility and be able to host over-night travelers with horses, weekend seminars and clinics. Right now, I'd settle for someone with a tractor that can help me clear a few acres. I know it won't happen overnight, but everything I make on my sales goes toward my horses, achieving that dream and reaching my goals.

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