Our two horses came slowly down the steep trail that led out of the woods and into an open field, picking their way in earth beginning to firm in the late autumn chill.
We held our reins loosely so the horses could navigate on their own. They broke into a trot as they cleared the woods. We drew them up and looked ahead at a long, gently sloping field with short-cropped grass.
The land appeared to be settling down before a season of retreat. The cropland lay vacant, only tufts of dry leaves remained on the trees and the visible world was empty at that moment of all man`s activities but our own.
Jeff Lampe, my guide, and I were of the same mind; without talk we wheeled the horses and drove them into a swift canter across the grassy slope. The world speeded up. Trees and fence posts moved swiftly by. Clots of turf popped up behind the horses. As their hooves beat a subdued thunder, the horses began to snort jets of steam at each stride.
It was several more miles back to the house, the Prairie Hill barn/bed-and-breakfast inn, on a trail that meandered through more woods and fields and along roadways. Three deer raised their white flags in a harvested cornfield and headed for the safety of timber. A red-tailed hawk, highly visible in a perch in a barren oak tree, dropped off at our approach and glided noiselessly away.
”Now I know why I drove 17 hours yesterday to get here,” said Lampe, who had just driven in from California.
We walked the horses across the lawn in front of the house, an early 19th Century home, now an architectural landmark, built by Brown Searl, one of four brothers who came to this area of rolling farmland near the Illinois River in 1834 and who became a successful farming baron.
The house, six miles southeast of Princeton, is a two-hour drive from Chicago. Searl descendants still live down the road.
The house was unusual for its day and remains so now. It`s one of the oldest farmhouses left in Illinois and one of the first grand ones ever built. The exact construction date hasn`t been unearthed despite historical investigations by subsequent owners, but it probably was built between 1834 and 1850.
It`s more a city home than a farmhouse, with 10 columns supporting a handsome porch and broad wings of equal size emanating from a central structure that would make a fair-sized farmhouse on its own. The exterior has changed little since original construction, according to local records.
The current owner, Janine Klayman, who works for the Leo Burnett advertising agency in Chicago, bought the place in 1991 while looking for a rest home for her mare, Odessa, after veterinarians recommended the horse be
”put down” due to a mysterious lameness. Klayman disagreed. So did Odessa, who recovered.
The house and eight adjoining acres were more than even a favorite mare required, but Klayman, who spent a summer searching for an appropriate spot, was taken by the place.
Behind the house, situated on what is called Searl Ridge, the land drops into a broad ravine where Klayman and friends have constructed a cross-country horse trail with 25 permanent jumps. She has rented an additional 22 acres and may develop that area for jumping as well.
Klayman and friends have introduced the disciplines of English riding and jumping to the area, where Western pleasure riding is the standard. So far it hasn`t scared off all the natives.
One neighbor saw what Klayman and company were up to and drove by to offer a load of old telephone poles, which became another permanent jump. Another resident, Kathi Torri, became general manager as the place grew from a weekend retreat to a commercial operation. Torri also escorts trail rides.
There now are five horses permanently stabled at Prairie Hill, though most guests bring their own by trailer.
Klayman also organizes clinics with international caliber instructors. This past summer`s coaches included Michael Page, Chef d`Equipe of the last three U.S. Olympic equestrian teams; Maj. Paul Lindsay, the 1981 Irish National Show jumping champion (on his third visit to Prairie Hill); and Karen Stives, an individual silver and team gold medal winner for the U.S. in the 1984 Olympics.
Riding lessons, flat and jumping, also are available by arrangement.
The house has six bedrooms which can be rented by the night or week. Klayman started the commercial enterprise in June and is experimenting with being open in winter. (An improvement for all seasons would be a few road signs; even with detailed directions it`s tricky finding the place.)
In late afternoons and evenings, after a day of horses and fresh air, many guests congregate-collapse would be a more appropriate word-in what is known as the ”comatose room,” the parlor, where a wood-burning stove turns human flesh to warm, sloppy jelly. A long couch allows one person to go supine, sometimes with a cat snuggled on the stomach for extra comfort. Others can drop onto rugs and into chairs.
While we were there, we had four big dogs at the place ranging in size from 75-pound Jake (a mixed German shorthair pointer and Rottweiler belonging to Janine) to 115-pound Gentle Ben (a giant schnauzer belonging to Jeff). Dogs are welcome only by special arrangement and must be confined. Insurance forbids them accompanying riders.
My wife, Frances, and I got dispensation to bring ours, a chocolate Labrador retriever named Robert, a winsome soul who made enough friends to gain house privileges. We also added a new cat during the weekend, replacing a dearly departed one, when Frances sweet-talked a neighboring stable owner into giving us the last of a litter, whom Frances named Thomas Cat. Used to drafty barns and flashing hooves, Thomas slept the weekend away in the comatose room. It made quite a sight in the evening with splayed-out human forms surrounded by equally comatose dogs and cats: A weekend for the dogolotrous, the horse-stricken and the catnapped. The only thing missing was James Herriott, the beloved Scottish vet and .
Janine had warned us that domestic arts are not her strong suit, but breakfast the next morning was fine-fresh fruit salad, store-bought muffins, cold cereal and the usual assortment of breakfast drinks. Guests are welcome to bring their own groceries and use the refrigerator and freezer as long as no cooking is required. Insurance companies frown on guests bending over stoves as well as on dogs spooking horses.
There are plenty of good restaurants nearby, though nothing Michelin would go starry-eyed over. We had dinner a few miles from Prairie Hill at the Ranch House, which does much better than expected for such a rural community with chops, fish, a wine list and a country-and-western singer. You won`t leave hungry, deaf or broke.
The nearby town of Princeton has an assortment of restaurants. It also has a surprising number of handsome old Victorian homes and an antiques row. As the seat of Bureau County, Princeton has an extensive fairgrounds which hosts some event or other most weekends, including a crafts fair even during our out-of-season weekend.
There are plenty of optional activities, including cross-country skiing and Starved Rock State Park. But Prairie Hill means horses.
