Photography By Kirsten Beckerman
Paco’s braying woke me up from my catnap on the porch, but my daughter, Jessie, was delighted. I’d say if the farm sounds of a donkey, occasional bleats from the goats, and chirping birds are the worst things to happen on a lazy afternoon, then this is the place to be.
This is Tailwinds Farm, in North East, Md., our inn for the night, and home to JoAnn and Ted Dawson and their brood. Besides the aforenamed donkey, there are goats Jeepers and Sweetie; farm dogs Jack, Goldie, and Possum; Lily the Siamese cat; a bunny, flocks of chickens and homing pigeons, and fifty horses I won’t bother to name. Sons Zach, nineteen, and Nick, fifteen, have found their own places in this menagerie (when Zach’s not off at college), helping out with the business of the farm and the summer camp.
Jessie and I were excited to meet them all when we arrived this morning; our suburban life doesn’t have room for lovable farm animals. So after settling into our room, decorated with a subtle country touch in shades of cornflower blue and butter, we set out with JoAnn to make the rounds. Possum, the border collie puppy, is hard on our heels.
This morning, students are taking jumping lessons in the impressive “indoor” ring, actually a large open-air white dome stretched over a crisscross of aluminum trusses, which Ted put up himself. (They host horse shows here regularly). Next door, campers are watering horses, or brushing them down, or cleaning the stalls.
We get a surprising look at JoAnn’s other self, the actress, in pictures posted on the barn bulletin board: an undead burn victim in The Sixth Sense, a colonist in Beloved (they also provided the horses and carriages for the movie). She’s also sold a yet-to-be-filmed screenplay and written a couple of novels for preteens. And she cooks a mean breakfast (French toast with fresh eggs, fresh strawberries, all served up on china in the formal plum dining room).
The Dawsons, who met at the University of Delaware, run both the stables here at the farm and the riding concession nearby at Fair Hill State Park. The couple has been at this for a while, having run stables in Wilmington, Del., for more than a dozen years. About five years ago, they struck out on their own.
“Coincidentally, I visited this farm, and told my friend ‘someday we’ll have a place like this.’” says JoAnn. As it happened, the farm went into foreclosure, and they put in a bid. Undaunted by the farmhouse’s broken pipes, sagging floors, and holes in the ceiling, they renovated the house and moved their herd of horses into the stables. “They were in much better shape than the house,” she adds, noting that it had been home to racehorses and a dairy farm. It took a year before they could open it up to the public.
Now it’s one of the few spots on the East Coast where you and your horse can bed down for the night on the same site, though you get much better digs. Guests include polo players traveling to matches, competitors riding over at Fair Hill, or just plain folks like us, looking for a rare rural experience.
Jessie and I are happy to hear the history, but we’re both champing at the bit to get to our trail ride. We head over on our own to Fair Hill, just ten minutes away, to meet our mounts, Nugget and Hoppy. An eleven-year-old girl and a horse is always a match made in heaven; today the sun and well-behaved horses cooperate to make it even better. After a sedate walk in the woods, negotiating some muddy trails, two creeks, and at least one roadblock, we pick it up to a trot. Bouncing atop the hills and meadows next to the Fair Hill steeplechase course is a thrill for us amateurs, even if tame to our guides. The heat of the day and all this exercise wear us greenhorns out.
Though Jessie would like to ride all day, she’s happy to hang out with the animals back at the farm, where JoAnn and Ted are hustling about with the duties of the day— cutting the hay, fixing the jumps, feeding the bunny, getting the carriages ready for tomorrow’s weddings. We set a spell in the farmhouse, in the updated country kitchen, then put our feet up and look at photo albums in the comfy living room.
There are just two bedrooms for guests: the “hunt room” follows in the horsey tradition in colors of hunter green and maroon, with a canopy bed and black-and-white traditional tiled bathroom. Our room features a roomy bath with clawfoot tub and antique dressing table. If you’re looking for high-end formal and fancy, keep on going. This place is homey, and comfortable, and totally relaxing.
Which is just the right tone for my afternoon sojourn on the porch. The view, through the wisteria and purple torenia, is pastures on one side and a pond on the other, down the hill from the barn and its pens. That’s where the goats hang out, and where Paco lives, the talkative donkey in soft taupe and cream that Jessie couldn’t resist. She spends most of the afternoon checking out the chicken coop and getting the goats and horses to eat from her hand. Children love it here, and she is no exception, probably because JoAnn and Ted do so much to make them welcome. Children’s parties don’t stop at horse fun; the kids feed the goats, take a hayride, go fishing, release the homing pigeons from the banks of the pond.
We strike out on our own for dinner, passing over the nearby Fair Hill Inn, with its historic ambience and gourmet fare, for the variety of shops and restaurants in North East, just five miles south. I couldn’t resist the crab cake at Woody’s, the popular Chesapeake crabhouse on the main street.
The next morning breaks breezy and beautiful as Jessie and I set out to gather our eggs for breakfast. Then JoAnn calls the horses back from the pasture for their own meal. We stand back in awe as they gallop single file around the barn into the stables (except for Shamrock, the gray gelding, who loves to take a jaunt around before heading home). It’s a lovely sight.
Tailwinds Farm
41 Tailwinds Ln.
North East, Md.
410-658-8187 or http://www.fairwindsstables.com.
Rates: $75 per night. $25 per stall.
