There have been times in my young life when I have been faced with rare and exciting opportunities. For example: the summer after graduating high school, I was granted the extremely mind-blowing opportunity to spend two weeks in Provence, France, living in a stone cottage, dining on freshly slaughtered home raised lamb (if you're a foodie this might sound a little more appealing. Or maybe not...) and fine wine and cheese. The possibilities were endless--open markets, the immersion into an entirely new culture; even Google showed me images of fields of purple flowers cascading over rolling hillsides. It was all the beauty that my brain could imagine; everything that I was drawn to (except for the slaughtered sheep) condensed into one region of the earth. And I was invited. And I was all set and ready to go. But wait! I had a boyfriend...and he was just leaving for college...and so were all my friends...and I was stupid and in love and therein lies the rub. And so being that, there have also been times in my young life when I have turned down the best offers in the world, and discovered to my dismay that what I'd done was a horrible mistake--and this was one of those times.
But of course I learned from that mistake, and what I learned led me into accepting one of the most amazing and life-changing offers I have ever received in my life. After turning down my offer for France, I decided to take a year off before going to college, got a job, blahdyblahdyblahdy.
After I had finally entered college and the year was almost over, my dad called me to tell me that one of his clients, whom I'd often baked apple pies for,wanted me to work at his ranch in Creede, Colorado for the summer. This tiny proposition shook the foundation that is Megan Sargent. I had less time than I wanted to decide, and I would be doing my thing there for two months. I would be living and working for Broadacres Ranch, a fly fishing ranch smack dab in the middle of a southwestern Colorado oasis, chock full o' cowboys, deer and geologic wonders. After the allotted time had passed, I hesitatingly made my decision, and it was done. I was going. I was spending my summer absent from my homeland, the longest distance and longest amount of time I have ever been away.
I want to take a moment to revisit the quote on the picture above. From one of my favorite stories, this quote perfectly encapsulates the emotions overwhelming my entire body the day I stepped onto the airplane and waved goodbye, with tears in my eyes, to my mother, who woke up at 5am to drive her wary-eyed daughter to the airport. I've traveled beyond the state line of Vermont, I've even traveled beyond the realm of this country, but this was different for some reason.
The sights and experiences ahead of me hadn't even been formed yet. Maybe in the universe somewhere they were floating around as little particles, mixing and matching until they found the perfect combination. And I think they did splendidly.
Over the summer I literally (and figuratively) climbed hills, blazed mountain trails (the Continental Divide on the 4th of July), attended my first (and second) rodeo, watched the original True Grit in the truest grittiest place imaginable, found peace and a tidbit of fear when asked to drive (for the first time in 1.5 months) a mustang convertible to the airport to pick up some lost luggage, found fossils up the whonanny, tried my hand at jewelry making/spent $40 on beads that I never really did anything with, saw waterfalls, rabbits and herons, and perhaps met some of the most amazing people I will ever cross paths with.I've always believed in destiny, but mostly destiny in the context of human relationships and chance...meaning I believe that we meet the people we meet for a reason. I mean, there are 7 billion people on the planet and we only meet and connect with a select few.
Tyler was my boss, my big sister, and my mentor. She came all the way from Washington D.C. after working for the restaurant Birch and Barley once she finished college at Georgetown. She was put in charge of all the food at Broadacres and I was her sidekick. Over the two months Tyler taught me the word "tittyballz" and guided me in the baking of CRAP TONS of pretty tasty cookies and desserts and little breakfast foods while she cooked up some of the most delicious foods I have ever eaten in my life, hands down. Baba Ganoush. Freaking amazing steaks. Risottos. Freaking amazing fish. Salads that made me die of taste attacks. Pastas that brought me back to life. With her creations, she expanded my palate farther than I knew was possible. Along with all this new food came tons of new knowledge and information. New techniques and flavor combinations. I learned more about food than I have ever learned before.When I began feeling homesick, Tyler was always there to listen to me whimper, and hug me when the tears started welling up in my eyes. I couldn't have asked for anyone better to learn with side by side.
I spent my days living with two Dartmouth students named Jill and Laura. From the second I met them I knew we would get along extremely well, and time strengthened my relationship with both of them until they too were like my big sisters. We set out to have the time of our lives. We stayed in some crappy hotel in Monte Christo after successfully generating a healthy batch of Sangria for an upcoming rodeo.I will never forget the night we all stayed up talking in our living room, close to the time I left. There was no T.V. in the house. There were no computers in our laps to drown out the sound of our talking or to disrupt the fluidity of our thoughts. It was just us and this new place we had grown accustomed to. It was me saying a long and early goodbye to the two girls I saw the most.
I didn't know what I was in for when I agreed to accept this opportunity, and I think that was the most important part of this whole trip. The unknown is such a vast thing that when juxtaposed with the known it's frightfulness seems overwhelming and unstoppable. I find it to be the most intimidating thing on the earth. But if I had withdrawn at the last second or even turned this down altogether, I never would have seen the things I did, nor would I have formed the relationships I cherish so dearly now, or developed the passions that came so easily with my surroundings. What we do in our lives shapes our souls, and I will forever remember the day I took that step furthest from home, out of my own comfort zone, to start my life as a young woman with an open mind and a heart full of love.
When my time at the ranch came to an end, I received a beautiful handmade necklace made of agate and silver from my wonderful manager, Mary. Mary and I shared a 1.5 hour car ride towards the end of my stay because we needed to find the nearest evidence of civilization, and on that car ride I learned more about her late husband, an incredible Geologist who was widely respected among the town. It was touching. I still wear the necklace she gave me to this day and swear I can close my eyes and imagine I'm back in Creede. I hold the cloudy purple stone up to the light and I see everything that reminds me of those days. I see pesky muskrats peeping from beneath a thin veil of water in the nearby ponds, and feel the pieces of volcanic rock cracking beneath my feet as I search for a fossil to bring home and brag about. I see the mines all the way in the distance beyond the Hercules Pillars, the giant rocks that frame the outskirts of Creede. I see Chuck and Susan, the beautiful couple that worked on the ranch with us. I feel Susan's comforting hugs and I still hear Chuck picking the banjo late at night while Susan and I softly croon Dolly Parton and John Prine. I see my manager Ray's mustache and the time he ingested gasoline while trying to siphon gas from a lawn mower.I remember Jill and Laura standing in front of me in the kitchen the night before I left, when I hugged them goodbye and turned away before they could see me cry. I remember barely keeping my eyes open as Tyler drove me to the airport this time at 5am. How she gave me one of my favorite cookbooks of hers before I boarded the plane, and thinking how embarrassing it was when the security guard asked me how my day was going with tears streaming down my face, and then immediately answered my question for me. It was bittersweet. But I was leaving on a jet plane, and going back to the Shire, never again afraid to accept the gifts life hands me with open arms.
