Strawberry Mountain Inn: Great Western Prairies
Nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the towering Rockies lies a small village charmingly named Prairie City. Standing majestically before the imposing backdrop of Strawberry Mountain is the beautiful Bed & Breakfast owned and operated by Linda and Bill Harrington.
The surrounding atmosphere breathes the pure essence of the American West. Vast, open prairies stretch toward national parks, rustic ranches herd thousands of cattle, and dense mountain forests remain home to deer, squirrels, and black bears. It is the perfect sanctuary for a week-long escape, offering countless hiking trails and pristine rivers teeming with trout and salmon—waters that still occasionally attract hopeful gold prospectors.
Linda is always eager to share stories of her beloved region while you relax comfortably in her spacious living room, which features a magnificent 1934 baby grand piano. Looking through the large bay windows, the sprawling plains and dramatic mountains unfold before you—a breathtaking view best enjoyed from the balcony while gently swaying in a rocking chair.
Having arrived in the American West just two days prior, I was still fighting off the effects of jet lag. A nine-hour time difference is no small hurdle. Wide awake by 5 a.m. and knowing sleep was no longer an option, I quietly slipped out of my spacious "King-size" bedroom to take an early morning stroll around the village.
The main street is perfectly quaint, featuring a small church, a local chamber of commerce, and about twenty uniquely decorated storefronts. There is also an old-fashioned gas station where an early-rising cowboy was already fueling up his pickup truck. At this hour, the town is enveloped in a profound, peaceful stillness—a uniquely serene atmosphere that is deeply refreshing to experience. While most of the town still slept, the local bakery was already hard at work; incredibly, it stays open from 5 a.m. straight through to 8 p.m.
Peering through the bakery window, I watched the baker meticulously decorate a massive cake, custom-ordered for a local salmon fishing club of about a hundred members. True to the famously welcoming American spirit, I was warmly invited inside to enjoy my first coffee of what promised to be a very full day.
Just a few miles from Prairie City, high in the mountains, lies Lake Magone. Venture slightly further, and you might easily spot a bear or a moose wandering through this wild, untouched terrain. The area boasts numerous hiking trails perfect for half-day or full-day excursions. It is a place of such captivating natural beauty that one could easily linger for days just to fully absorb the surrounding wilderness.
Back at the Bed & Breakfast, I spent time with Linda, Bill, and Aneta, a young Polish student who had been living with them for three months. Aneta had come to the United States through an exchange program that allows Eastern European students to spend several months working and traveling in North America. Armed with a temporary work permit, she was here to perfect her English and gain invaluable life experience. Dynamic, deeply motivated, and full of ambitious plans, she perfectly embodied the renewed energy and uninhibited forward momentum of Poland following its entry into the European Union.
Linda’s good friend, Judith, also runs a local B&B, albeit a highly exclusive one with only two guest rooms. Her husband, Alan, is the quintessential cowboy: sporting a large belt buckle, a wide, rugged smile, and a classic Marlboro aesthetic. He is the effortlessly cool, stylish cowboy straight out of a Western film. We had the pleasure of meeting him the previous evening at a local country restaurant in John Day, a bustling small town about eight miles west of Prairie City.
The steaks at the 'Snafflebit' restaurant are absolutely enormous, and the salads are equally colossal! The clientele consists entirely of locals: tough, hardworking cowboys, firefighters, police officers, and seasoned hunters. Despite their rugged exteriors, the atmosphere inside is incredibly warm and convivial. Alan’s broad smile perfectly captures the infectious joy of these rural folks who fully embrace their great outdoors culture.
At 7:30 the next morning, we met at a large cattle corral along the road to Boise, Idaho. The weather was spectacular, just as it had been since my arrival. A light morning mist blanketed the prairie, pierced beautifully by the first golden rays of the sun. In the distance, near the mountain base, a dark, moving mass steadily approached; it was a herd of young cattle, expertly driven by cowboys, ready to be shipped to new pastures.
"Hi Philippe!" shouted Jim, Alan’s son, waving cheerfully from atop his horse. Jim is a genuinely kind and deeply attentive man. Despite his imposing build and rugged cowboy look, he never takes himself too seriously. Always relaxed and quick to smile—long live the American spirit! Five massive transport trucks were scheduled to load approximately 250 cattle, arriving one after another with perfect precision. Out here, everyone knows everyone: Bill, Jim, Alan, Brian, and old Jack, complete with his loyal cattle dog and a hat still carrying a bit of mud from the previous season. It was an entirely male crew, and the loading process was executed with smooth, quiet efficiency. Truckers and cowboys meticulously counted the herd, trading tallied numbers on small scraps of paper. We were truly in the heart of cowboy country!
That evening, we met Jim Woomer at the 'Shoshoni Winds', Prairie City's local saloon. It boasts a remarkably long bar for such a small town, with walls proudly decorated with dozens of stuffed deer, bear, and elk heads—the ultimate gathering spot for local hunters. Jim greeted us with a wide smile and generously shared his extensive knowledge of the area, providing invaluable information to enrich the Strawberry Mountain Inn's website. As an avid outdoorsman and the proud owner of a top-tier mountain bike, Jim is the local authority on the region's best cycling trails.
Over rounds of local draft beer, conversation flowed effortlessly between Bill (the B&B host), Jim (the outdoor expert), Aneta (the Polish student), and myself (an amateur reporter for eight months of the year, and a guesthouse owner for the remaining four). Every time I find myself in these situations, I realize that this is the true school of life—the kind of immersive learning that deeply motivates me. That evening, Jim was our willing professor.
"Have you heard of Larry McGraw from Hancockville?" Jim asked. "He lives entirely alone in a prefabricated cabin that you can order two weeks in advance and have delivered by truck. Larry is perfectly content right where he is. He’s in his seventies—a part-time photographer, avid gardener, and a bit of a researcher—but he is best known for his phenomenal homemade apple juice." Served simply in metal cups, Larry’s juice is a carefully crafted blend from various apple varieties, mixed with the meticulous care of a master winemaker.
Larry is exactly the kind of fascinating character I would love to spend a week with, just to listen to his stories and adapt to his quiet rhythm. Behind his modern cabin sits an old, original pioneer shack where time has stood completely still. The wooden floorboards creak heavily, and the fading, peeling wallpaper perfectly captures the historic atmosphere of the bedroom. A classic iron stove sits in the center of the room, and vintage magazines remain within arm's reach of an old rocking chair. In the spring, nestled between the vegetable garden, the blooming apple trees, and this historic prospector’s cabin, his home must feel like a genuine slice of paradise.
On Saturday, the four of us—Linda's daughter Stacy, Stacy's son Tylor, Aneta, and myself—headed over to Judith and Alan's magnificent working ranch. Three powerful ATVs (quads) were waiting for us, and we set off across the sprawling prairies toward Strawberry Mountain. Out here, ATVs don't bother any hikers because there is simply no one else around, save for a few wandering cows that barely acknowledge our presence. These modern machines are what the cowboys now use to quickly gather their herds across the vast distances, though traditional horses remain a very present and essential part of ranch life.
On Sunday morning, Linda drove us out to a secluded hot spring hidden in a beautifully quiet valley. It featured an old, rustic spa building and a large open-air pool fed directly by steaming, sulfurous natural water. The weather remained absolutely flawless, horses grazed peacefully in the adjacent meadow, and the weathered wooden buildings transported us back to another era. We had this heavenly oasis entirely to ourselves. Surrounded by my generous hosts, I simply let time slip away. Life truly is remarkably good here!
Strawberry Mountain Inn B&B, Prairie City, Oregon, USA -
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