Eight autumns. That’s how many seasons I’ve had the joy of gathering women at the ranch along the Taylor Fork, watching the aspens catch fire, and feeling that familiar mixture of laughter and tears rise up as we ride into the bright gold at the Nine Quarter Circle Ranch. This year was my last Montana retreat with Dare to Detour, and I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful and wild goodbye.

From the moment the Darlings arrived, you could feel the hum. Nerves give way to excitement, and this group of strangers becomes wonderfully connected by the end of the week. Mornings started slow and intentional with Nico’s grounding movement and meditations. She was spot on every day, and I loved the way she quietly invited each of us to come home to our bodies before our days under the big Montana sky began.

The horses, as always, were our greatest mirrors. Sydney of Honor Equine guided both large-group sessions and intimate round pen work that was deeply moving. Her closing exercise—a “letter to the horse”—still gives me goosebumps. Prompts like “what I admire most about you is…” and “what I always want to remember is…” asked us to speak honestly to the beings who carried us all week. Simple, powerful, unforgettable.

We rode through color so vivid it felt unreal this year. Galloping into the aspens, I was crying and laughing at the same time. On the final day, wrangler Luke took us off-trail in true Western style, and I just kept thinking, I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to do this for eight years. The stars at night were infinite with the clear skies, reminding us how small and infinite we all are.

This final year, I made sure there were many sweet extras woven into the days. Kameron opened the barn with a ranch welcome that set the tone beautifully for the rest of our week. Hilary Honadel led us through screen printing lessons that used embroidery hoops and Mod Podge and turned picnic tables into a creative studio. Many of the women were nervous to try—afraid to “do it wrong.” Here’s why I’ll always champion these practices: there’s so much science showing that art helps us integrate new learning by engaging both sides of the brain. When we’re brave enough to make something, we anchor what we’re discovering about ourselves. It’s not about perfect; it’s about presence.

Bozeman’s infamous Kate and Molly of Fawn & Co. popped up with their upcycled cowboy jeans and vintage wear for the 5th year in a row and brought something extra to the lodge Tuesday night. Showcasing women-owned small businesses from Montana is something I am especially proud of incorporating into every week I’ve Detoured at the ranch.

One afternoon, we snuck away for some fly fishing, and S ara Saxton made magic with her portraits of each Darling in attendance.

There were massages for everyone and plenty of sauna time, compliments of Whitney Truscott and her healing hands. The food? Delicious. And I’ll admit it—I was absolutely jacked on coffee all week thanks to the ranch’s new machine. Happy hours were a ritual. Montana Mules and ranch margs are the Nine Quarter’s signature. (Maybe we can get the recipe?!) And Lindsay Pearl’s music floated across the valley, adding the perfect touch of “vibes.”

For play, we brought back the Ranch Olympics, enthusiastically led by Taylor Lawn. Competing for the Golden Horseshoe brought out our competitive, hilarious sides...complete with bandanas, glitter, and giggles. Several of the women commented on how they couldn’t remember the last time they had actually played like that, which was exactly the point. Mission accomplished! Congrats to Whitney’s team (a.k.a. “Cowgirls Don’t Cry”) on taking home the Golden Horseshoe!

And then there was line dancing. Oh my. Off. The. Hook. Every single woman danced—something I haven’t always seen—and the wranglers were ringers. It got so enthusiastic I joked I’d re-torn my ACL. Whitney even turned her ankle mid–Dirty Dancing leap into Luke’s arms. We laughed until we cried, then danced some more. That kind of collective joy? It’s medicine. The last night was my favorite. Many thanks to Suzi of Western Roots Country Dancing for teaching us all how to line dance with abandon!

Also, one of my favorite surprises was welcoming chainsaw artist Abby Casey. She blew us away and left a carved gift for the Kelleys. It was a beautiful way to say thank you to a family that has opened their home and hearts to us for years.

By our last morning, coffee in hand, I felt the closure I needed. A couple of women were surprised to learn this was the last retreat, and I get it. When something feels this good, we want it to go on forever. But Dare to Detour has always been about listening to the nudge, taking the detour, and trusting what comes next.

Over the years I’ve learned so much about what women in this season of life are seeking: safe ways to travel on their own, experiences that speak to their souls (even if the rest of the family doesn’t share those interests), and the confidence to articulate what we want and need—and to champion those desires in each other. Creating that kind of container has been one of the great privileges of my life.

What’s next for me is a natural evolution. I announced last month that I’m stepping away from hosting Dare retreats so I can focus my energy on giving back in new ways. Two weekends ago, I facilitated my first retreat for the Montana Cancer Support Community—the same community that held me through my own cancer journey. It feels deeply meaningful to use what I’ve learned to support the organizations that have supported me, and to help guide experiences for communities that need it most.

To the wranglers, staff, artists, and practitioners who helped shape this final week: Sorrell, Ried, Luke, Ben, Hanna, Jarrett, Hartley, Taylor, Sydney, Nico, Hilary, Sara, Whitney, Lindsay, Jessie, Suzi, Abby, Molly, Kate, the entire Kelsey Family, and every hand behind the scenes - thank you. To the Darlings who showed up bravely, rode hard, danced harder, and wrote your letters to the horses: you are why I do this.

The trail is wide. The stars are bright. I’m excited for what’s ahead, and I’m endlessly grateful for what we’ve shared.

With love from Bozeman,
Sheryl