Every since my very good friend Dale in Pickford Michigan passed on and left Kiesha, my daughter and I have been looking for a farm. Seems a little strange to own horses and live downtown. We have looked constantly for the past 5 years and never found the right on. Until a year and a half ago. We were driving east of town past the menonites and behind Bruce Mines. We came upon a little town called Rydall Bank. There really isn't anything in the town anymore except a town hall. It used to be a little mining town. We saw a real estate sign so we followed those signs. Drove down this windy dirt road which was very scenic. We passed a beautiful lake and then righton the other side of the lake there was a road and the for sale sign. The property for sale was a huge hill with no buildings. Pretty but not what we needed. But it was so pretty down that road, West Road, being the west end of the lake I thought, that we started driving down it to just look around. That is pretty much how we have looked for our farm, just driving around to see what feels good. We crossed over a bridge over a fairly large river and I knew I was where I wanted to be. I stopped the car in the middle of the road. It is not like there was any traffic on this little road. Ends up there are only 7 houses on it. I jumped out and said, "This is it!!! This is where I want to live!! There was a house close by so I walked up the driveway and knocked on the door. A woman came limping to the door. I said I was sorry to disturb her and she said, Oh don't worry, I just have a bad hip"

Of course, I replied, "I may be able to help you with that. I am a massage therapist", and proceeded to show her some stretches to do. There we are out on her deck doing therapy. Kiesha is in the car shaking her head. I then asked who owned the property across the street. It is a beautiful huge pasture that has the river on one side of it and it overlooks the lake. She said "Oh that property goes with the little house up the hill there". And there sat my future home. There was a "Who lives there?" I asked. little house, double car garage, a barn, chicken coup, 300 foot metal building. "Who lives there?" I asked. "No one." she replied. "It belongs to a guy from Austria, but he just comes over every few years for a day and walks around."