Twenty years since I've seen the place and it's hardly changed a bit. Oh, sure, there's a masseuse now, and Wi-Fi everywhere.
But the mountains still jut up to the south, the horses still whinny in their corrals, and the dudes still saddle up.
About the only thing that has changed at the White Stallion Ranch northwest of Tucson is the salt and pepper hairs on the head of co-owner Russell True.
That and the fact that White Stallion is the only true dude ranch left on this side of town. Long gone are competitors such as the Saddle and Surrey and the Wild Horse Ranch.
While changing vacation habits and encroaching civilization may have done in other dude ranches, White Stallion, located at 9251 W. Twin Peaks Road, continues to thrive — in part because of its wide open spaces.
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Considered by some as "too far out" when True's late parents, Allen and Cynthia True, bought the 200-acre ranch in 1965, White Stallion now sprawls across 3,000 acres.
"Little by little, my parents bought up, at great sacrifice, the surrounding 3,000 acres," says True, 48, who co-owns the place with his brother Michael, 43. "They felt it was not a genuine ranch if you could see rooftops."
Besides its own spread, White Stallion also shares two miles of fence line with Saguaro National Park's west unit, where the dudes can also ride.
White Stallion also continues to run its own cattle — about 100 head. "It's for credibility," says True, who also uses the cattle for weekly rodeos. "People like to ride and see the cows and calves and longhorns out there."
Besides, adds True, cattle have been home on the range here for more than a century.
Homesteaded in the 1930s, the whole thing was sold to Chicago liquor store owner Max Zimmerman in 1940. "He started the dude ranch," says True. "He had six buildings built, mainly for family and friends."
In 1948, Zimmerman sold the ranch to two sisters, who ran it for 10 years. "There were long-term rentals, and Marana Air Base officers would rent here," says True. "Glenn Close was one of the guests here as a kid."
In 1958, the sisters sold the ranch to Brew and Marge Towne. "He wanted to name it the Black Stallion, after the classic book," says True. "But then a bola tie was made for Brew with the initials. He was horrified and changed it to White Stallion."
Anxious to escape Denver winters, oilman Allen True and his wife, Cynthia, bought the ranch in 1965. "Dad was searching for a new life," says True.
The couple scouted out five dude ranches for sale in Tucson. Never mind their zero experience in running such a place.
"My mother reluctantly agreed to do this," says True, who grew up on the ranch.
It was, he says, a 24/7 job. "My dad ran the ranch and my mother ran the office, did all the reservations. At that time, people mailed them in."
A big part of dude ranch management then, he adds, was "socializing and hosting the guest."
"My parents played cards and chatted with the guests and hosted parties. They did this every day until the last dog had died," says True. "A large part of the dude ranch is horses, hospitality and hats." Then and now.
Today, White Stallion can accommodate about 100 guests in 45 rooms scattered about the ranch core, which includes everything from a lodge, bar and dining room to corporate meeting rooms.
There's a fitness center, gift shop, heated pool and hot tub, movie theater, lighted sports and tennis courts, even a petting zoo.
Evening entertainment ranges from cowboy poetry to star gazing to line dancing. And while Wi-Fi is "everywhere," says True, not so for television.
"If you have TV, you tend to stay in your room. We want our guests out here, socializing and enjoying the experience. "TV will draw away what makes a dude ranch special."
Food, overseen by a cook who's been at the ranch 44 years, is both buffet and plated, depending upon time of day. There's also plenty of sunset barbecues.
But it's horses that make White Stallion a true dude ranch. "Each person is assigned a horse depending on skill level," says True. And, yes, everyone must sign a liability agreement.
"We are so safety-conscious, but we will still have spontaneous dismounts," says True. "They are stunned. It is real. But that's what makes it special. It's not a virtual experience. It's with a real horse."
Sixty percent of their guests are repeat business, ranging from cops and firemen to doctors and attorneys.
"We get loads of single women and groups of women," adds True. "They like the cowboys, love the horses. And it's safe. Nobody's hitting on them."
Donald Franklin, 66, and his wife, Joyce, 65, are repeat business — though it took them 35 years to get back to White Stallion a few weeks ago.
"The first time we had a very good time. It was my first ranch, first time to Tucson," says Franklin, who lives in Chicago.
Both he and Joyce have visited other dude ranches in the interval, many in the mountains.
This time, says Donald, "We really enjoyed the riding, walking in the desert." And, he adds, "I purposely left my computer at home."
With guests coming from all 50 states and 53 foreign countries, White Stallion is trying something new for the summer of 2010: It's going year-round. Europeans, along with price-conscious Americans, will help fill up the place, hopes True.
"We won't make any money on it, but it's a way to keep the staff on the facility going."
Rates range this time of year from $224 to $297 a day and include everything but liquor and massage therapy. And, yes, the sour economy is hurting, says True, who estimates business is down 10 to 20 percent.
Still, he has no plans to sell what is clearly a way of life.
When his father rebuffed an offer from a developer back in 1987, he was asked, "Mr. True, do you have any idea how much money this is?"
"My dad said, 'Yes. But if I had it, would I live any better?' "
"Little by little, my parents bought up, at great sacrifice, the surrounding 3,000 acres. They felt it was not a genuine ranch if you could see rooftops."
Russell True
Co-owner of White Stallion Ranch

