...15 min of your time to get to know YOU!
You don’t need that
You need a place to connect with friends and family
A place that recharges your soul.
I almost let another year slip by.
Another year of talking about doing something, while life kept pulling me in a hundred other directions.
But not this time.
This time, I pulled the trigger.
Now, when I need a reset, when I need to get away from the madness and just breathe, I know exactly where to go.
This isn’t a vacation. It’s not a rental. It’s a legacy,
One my family will carry forward for generations.
And if you’ve ever felt that pull back to the wild, if you’ve ever thought, someday, I’ll make this happen, maybe this is your time too.
I grew up outside.
Not in some metaphorical “we spent summers camping” way. I mean really outside, barefoot in the dirt, climbing trees, building forts, fishing at sunrise, and falling asleep to the sound of crickets. My parents made sure of that. Nature wasn’t a vacation; it was part of who we were.
Then life happened.
Somewhere between scaling a business, endless meetings, and keeping up with all the things, the wild got pushed to the background. I’d catch myself daydreaming about those long hikes, the smell of campfire smoke clinging to my clothes, the feeling of standing on an open ridge line with nothing but sky above me
We kept talking about getting back to nature.
Taking the kids on more adventures. Hell, maybe even buying a ranch. But let’s be real, running a business is enough of a commitment. The last thing I needed was another full-time job managing land, dealing with upkeep, or figuring out how to run cattle.
What I wanted—what my family needed—was the experience, not the responsibility.
It wasn’t just a timeshare in the woods. It wasn’t a resort trying to manufacture “rustic charm.” It was the real damn thing
A place where we could be part of something authentic, without the baggage that comes with owning a property outright.
Now?
✔ The kids get to roam free, just like I did growing up.
✔ We get real time together; no distractions, no schedules, just wide-open space.
✔ Mornings start with coffee on the porch, watching elk move through the valley.
✔ Afternoons are for riding horses, fishing the river, and learning what it means to actually live off the land.
✔ Evenings end with whiskey by the fire, swapping stories under a sky full of stars.
And the best part? I don’t have to lift a damn finger to maintain it. No logistics. No upkeep. No hidden headaches that turn a dream into a chore.
And if you’ve ever felt that pull back to the wild,
if you’ve ever thought, someday, I’ll make this happen, maybe this is your time too.
One my family will carry forward for generations.
This isn’t a vacation. It’s not a rental. It’s a legacy,
I know exactly where to go.
Now, when I need a reset, when I need to get away from the madness and just breathe,
This time, I pulled the trigger.
But not this time.
while life kept pulling me in a hundred other directions.
Another year of talking about doing something,I almost let another year slip by.
This is your chance to say:
“I didn’t just own land, I helped it thrive, I helped it stay wild.
I passed it on.”
This is your invitation to join the story
Help shape the future of Land, Wildlife, and The American West
We’re not developers. Not real estate brokers.
We’re stewards, and we’re not here to build condos, sell out to the highest bidder, or start another land-use shouting match.
We built the Wild Lands Legacy Club to protect what matters most,
by inviting the right people to be part of something real.
Yes, conservation orgs and government agencies are trying.
But they're stuck in gridlock, red tape, and underfunded mandates.
One that can move fast. Scale with integrity. Adapt.
A model built by doers and humble innovators
That’s what we’re building, starting with this ranch.
And not stopping there.
Because wild places don’t just deserve protection.
It deserves innovation and impactful collaboration.
I grew up outside.
Not in some metaphorical “we spent summers camping” way. I mean really outside, barefoot in the dirt, climbing trees, building forts, fishing at sunrise, and falling asleep to the sound of crickets. My parents made sure of that. Nature wasn’t a vacation; it was part of who we were.
Then life happened.
Somewhere between scaling a business, endless meetings, and keeping up with all the things, the wild got pushed to the background. I’d catch myself daydreaming about those long hikes, the smell of campfire smoke clinging to my clothes, the feeling of standing on an open ridge line with nothing but sky above me
We kept talking about getting back to nature.
Taking the kids on more adventures. Hell, maybe even buying a ranch. But let’s be real, running a business is enough of a commitment. The last thing I needed was another full-time job managing land, dealing with upkeep, or figuring out how to run cattle.
What I wanted—what my family needed—was the experience, not the responsibility.
It wasn’t just a timeshare in the woods. It wasn’t a resort trying to manufacture “rustic charm.” It was the real damn thing
A place where we could be part of something authentic, without the baggage that comes with owning a property outright.
Now?
✔ The kids get to roam free, just like I did growing up.
✔ We get real time together; no distractions, no schedules, just wide-open space.
✔ Mornings start with coffee on the porch, watching elk move through the valley.
✔ Afternoons are for riding horses, fishing the river, and learning what it means to actually live off the land.
✔ Evenings end with whiskey by the fire, swapping stories under a sky full of stars.
And the best part? I don’t have to lift a damn finger to maintain it. No logistics. No upkeep. No hidden headaches that turn a dream into a chore.
And if you’ve ever felt that pull back to the wild,
if you’ve ever thought, someday, I’ll make this happen, maybe this is your time too.
One my family will carry forward for generations.
This isn’t a vacation. It’s not a rental. It’s a legacy,
I know exactly where to go.
Now, when I need a reset, when I need to get away from the madness and just breathe,
This time, I pulled the trigger.
But not this time.
while life kept pulling me in a hundred other directions.
Another year of talking about doing something,I almost let another year slip by.