Last weekend, I returned to Simi Valley, California—and the
Big Sky movie ranch—to celebrate the 50th Anniversary of the
Little House on the Prairie television series.
Since my sister and I were allowed to watch pretty much all the TV wanted—but weren't allowed to do much else, especially out in the "real world"—my memories of the show, and the books, have informed some of my adult travels and adventures.
I still haven't made it to South Dakota, Kansas, or Missouri. And even though I've already crossed Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Iowa off my list (as well as Malone, New York, home of the Almanzo Wilder Farm), it feels like I'm always trying to get back to the prairie.
That happened—at least, in a Hollywood magic kind of way—this past weekend during the Little House festival, which included meet and greets and photo ops with most of the living stars of the show, as well as a bus tour of the old filming location from the 1970s and '80s.
But it almost didn't.
At first, I'd only bought a single-day ticket for Saturday of the three-day festival—and then as more and more stars got confirmed (including Melissa Gilbert, who never does these things), and panels got scheduled, I started to worry I wouldn't have enough time. So I upgraded to a weekend pass, knowing I probably wouldn't be able to break away from work for the Friday but having the peace of mind that I'd get all day Saturday and Sunday.
I arrived under threatening skies—and, soon, rain—on Saturday morning around 10 a.m., not having to wait in a long entry line because I had a multi-day pass. I enjoyed the festival atmosphere for a bit (stay tuned for my blog post on that) before ambling over to the bus tour check-in.
The morning rain had canceled all the buses that morning until at least 2 p.m.—and when I returned at 2 to try to ride standby later that day, the bad news was that the roads were still too muddy and unsafe, though the rain had ceased.
That meant returning the next morning, Sunday, by 7:30 a.m. to try to squeeze an empty seat out of one of the buses that day, which would start running at 8 a.m. But that meant counting on the fact that a Sunday bus ticketholder might not show up, or turn up late, since all the spots for the tour had sold out in advance months before.
After waiting in line for over three hours, I asked one of the event organizers what to do so as not to miss my professional photos with Melissa Gilbert (Laura Ingalls) and Dean Butler (Almanzo Wilder), which I'd also paid for in advance and whose time slots were narrow and immoveable. "You won't make it," the organizer said. "Go over there now and enjoy yourself."
Here's the only thing that made it work out in the end: The people behind me in line agreed to save my place and let me come back three hours later, without having to start over again at the back of the line.
Upon my return, we only had to wait about another 20 or 30 minutes before we found ourselves on a bus, everyone cheering, "We made it!"
Sure,
I'd been to Big Sky Ranch once before—but that was eight years ago, and
this year, the festival had erected smaller-scale, painted façades to replicate the original sets, in the exact places where they once stood.
