There are few words to describe The Flying U. My mother and her family had made trips here when she was a small child, the middle child of three, her father being the instigating factor in what were described to me as epic journeys, instilling her love of horses which she later immediately passed on to me in a more pressing fashion. I was first brought to the U at age 4, 1986 was the year, and having sat on a horse previously at age 2 or so was quickly assessed by Robert Fremlin, owner at that time, and handed a tiny leopard spotted grey pony with a white mane and tail called Trigger. I was besotted. My mother, in vain, uttered her last words to me that day: "DON"T CANTER!" Fat chance. Trigger and I had gallops after gallops and I famously challenged an older boy to a race when he sniffed at Trigger's 12 hands or so and proceeded to throw up dust in the face of his much larger horse. The U is magical. The sleeps in the log cabins are some of the best I have ever had. Nights are starry and wild. You can bring snacks if you like, from Clinton, or the now nearby general store at 70 mile, but when the dinner bell sounds one can't help but salivate like a Pavlovian dog and the conversation around the tables is endlessly pleasant... "What horse are you riding?" being the gateway question, or "Where did you ride today?" ... "What animals did you see?" Could be Deer, Coyotes, Groundhogs, A Moose... Or a Bear! Trade stories of trails, 8 am for breakfast was never better even if you piss it up at the Saloon. Which you should... Because your kids can watch a movie. Hay rides are fun even for jaded riders like me. The Flying U is the most special place in the world for me, I'm 34, my mother is 63. I remember the names of every horse I have ever ridden there, and willing to bet most guests do too. Regardless of whether you are a serious rider, in which case this is paradise, or a beginner with a young family, I couldn't urge you more to choose the "U" over any other option.

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