"How Do I Get to SYL Ranch?"
by William Stone III <
[email protected]>
http://www.wrstone.com
Copyright (c) 1965-2065 William Stone III
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Paradoxically, SYL Ranch doesn't really exist.
However, since the 1930s, the "SYL" livestock brand has been in use in South
Dakota. Owned by Sylvia Davis Stone, the stylized SYL has appeared on cattle
raised on the banks of the Cheyenne River, some fifty miles north of Wall,
South Dakota for nearly three quarters of a century.
Sylvia Davis Stone was born and raised on a small homestead on the Cheyenne
River in South Dakota. Originally registered when she was a girl, the brand
appeared on her cattle in this area. She married my grandfather, William
Stone, Sr. The couple ultimately moved to Pedro, South Dakota, some seven
miles from where Sylvia grew up. Together, they ran a cow-calf ranching
operation from the 1940s until their retirement in the early 1990s. These
cattle all bore the brand SYL.
Technically speaking, Pedro, South Dakota isn't a town. Rather, it is the
remains of a town. The majority of Pedro burned in a fire in the latter part
of the 1800s. There are, however, a number of historical buildings, including
a fairly well-maintained log cabin still standing on the property.
William and Sylvia had four sons and a daughter, as well as numerous
grandchildren and great-grandchildren. These include myself
(William Stone III) and my daughters, Katherine Sylvia Stone and Lisa Eileen
Stone.
From age five to fifteen, I spent two weeks to a month nearly every summer
on my grandparents ranch. I would help Granddad with things like running and
repairing fences, checking and herding cattle, and the various chores
involved with running a cattle ranch. This typically left plenty of time for
yard work with "Nanny" (my family's nickname for Sylvia), walking along the
banks of the Cheyenne River, and horseback riding.
Understand that at no time was my grandparents ranch ever referred to as
"SYL Ranch." It was generally called "Pedro." When her father died, Sylvia
Stone and her siblings each received a portion of their father's land.
Sylvia, in turn, deeded her portion to each of her five children. This land,
which holds a small cabin among other things, has come to be referred to as
"Pedro" by those of us who care to visit it.
The Pedro property is extraordinarily remote given the degree of development
in America's megalopoli. When I attempt to explain it to urbanites, I often
get a blank stare accompanied by outright disbelief that such a place could
exist in the 21st century. I have occasionally given thought to the viability
of photo-safaris or an authentic "dude ranch" for the children of wealthy
urban dwellers. Fortunately, it's not even remotely viable.
The nearest road is a pair of ruts through the property. The nearest gravel
road is several miles away; the nearest paved more than thirty. In periods of
inclement weather involving any sort of precipitation, the grade of the
breaks into the river valley makes the property utterly inaccessible. If you
have the misfortune to be present when a blizzard hits, you may well be there
until the spring thaw. One of the major jobs in the near future is to
convince a neighbor to allow us to construct a bridge on his property tha
would allow access virtually year-round.
The property hosts a small, nominally two-room cabin. There are few modern
amenities: it was only in 2000 when a bathroom and plumbing came to the
house. Heat is provided by a wood burning stove and air conditioning
consists of a window air conditioner and a series of manually-placed fans.
In short, it is one of the most peaceful places on planet Earth. I treasure
my brief, infrequent visits to the property, the one place in the world where
the stress of 21st century life simply does not exist.
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