Hello to all of you. Well. Here we are. To paraphrase one of my all-time favorite literary works, we have turned another page… and have come to the end.

In this, our last column together, I was sorely tempted to try and pack all my ideas in here as a last hurrah. But, oi. It got so unwieldy even I didn’t want to read it.

So instead, I decided to give myself a little gift: revisiting my all-time favorite thing I wrote about, and trotting it out (literally) again in the hopes it might just catch on this time and become a real thing: farm-to-farm trails.

No, don’t walk away disappointed. Stick with me here. It has it all. I promise.

The idea first came to me as I was reading a book that captured my mind entirely – in a way that is rare. It was called, “The Last of the Saddle Tramps,” by Mesannie (Annie) Wilkins.

Way back in 1953, Mesannie was living a hardscrabble life on the family farm where she was born in Minot, Maine. When doctors gave her a short while left to live because of cancer, she opted not to weep, or take their advice and live out what time she had left quietly. Instead, Messanie bought herself an old camp horse and, although she had never ridden before, took off for California with only what she could fit on her saddle.

She made it, and lived many, many years more.

In taking this journey, Messanie from Minot had joined a group of folks out there known as “the long riders,” people who ride some serious distances. There are plenty of others and their rides cover the globe.

The moment I read Messanie’s story, followed by other long ride accounts, I knew I had finally found my thing. I want to long ride. But, and this is a big “but,” these stories all have a common thread apart from the miles themselves: It is, let’s just say, not uncommon for the voyage to be completed on a different horse than the one who set out at the start. It’s not neglect or anything, it’s the nature of a long ride. They are dangerous.

I want to long ride, but not that badly.

Fundamentally, at the end of the day, I want to have my horse safe and sound. I want to do the trail together. For me, that is kind of the point of the trip. I started thinking about ways around it all, and at the same time, I realized that all my newsletters from MOFGA, Maine Farmland Trust, Maine Coast Heritage Trust, and Maine Huts and Trails… well, there seemed to me a flash of possibility there.

So, picture it.

Farms, which are always in need of some extra income, could join a group, similar to Airbnb or Vrbo. But instead of a “room” or a house, they would offer a safe and secure turnout and shelter as well as a place for a person to camp.

This might be your own little barn with a sleeping loft, or it might be a three-sided shelter and tent platform. Rates would vary accordingly. The only rule is that the visitors would have to be apart enough from the working farm animals to not worry the farmers over quarantine.

Included in the rate would be a “turn-in” service, with each farmer transporting feed and supplies to the next overnight farm so that when the horse and rider arrive, their stuff is waiting for them.

I have the details (vets on call, etc.) in a file – and will gladly share with anyone willing to make this thing happen. I don’t want to run it. I want to ride it. But here we have: community building, outdoor adventure, time away from screens, connection, revenue for farms and new tourism opportunities tailor-made for “the way life should be.”

I honestly don’t know what comes next. For any of us. But I do know there are a lot of us here, together, who want to make a peaceful, joyous world. I read your emails, and I treasure them. You restore my faith.

So. I bid you a fond, grateful farewell from here – and hope that our paths cross in real life, ideally as we settle in around a campfire after many long and happy hours on a trail in this magical place we call home. Be well.