Cowgirl Up!

From horseback riding to grilling my own ribeye, three days in Bandera brought out my inner Dale Evans.
The Dixie Dude Ranch has been hosting city slickers like me since 1937. My horse, Fred, is back there somewhere.
Photograph by Sarah Lim

DAY 1

Get in here,” my friend Leigh hollers to me. “The dresser’s wearing boots!” I haul my luggage into our rustic cabin at the Dixie Dude Ranch (833 Dixie Dude Ranch Rd., 830-796-7771), in Bandera, and immediately feel like a kid who’s lucked into the coolest room at camp: our beds are wrapped in woolen Navajo blankets, a mirror is framed by a giant horseshoe hanging from two deer hooves on the wall, and the dresser’s feet are carved to look like Luccheses. Out the windows I can see horses grazing in a pasture. Over the next few days, I intend to saddle up one of those horses, eat chicken-fried

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