Three generations of Hudsons rule the roost at Broadleaf Guest Ranch—at least for now

JOYCE HUDSON stood in the kitchen of the old farmhouse and stared at the dirty green wall… green that matched every room in the house except the living room. Raindrops rolled down the windows and all was silent, save a dripping faucet inside, and an unhappy dog howling outside.

“Will I ever call this home?” she wondered to herself. It was May 1953. She and her husband, Vernon, had just purchased the 400-acre Albert County, NB, farm he had long dreamed of owning. They had two small children, Edward and Donna, and Joyce was six months pregnant with their third, Kathy.

Sixty years later, she is the mother of seven, grandmother of 17 and great-grandmother of 22. Her first and only love, Vernon, has been gone 12 years.

The rundown farmhouse with the green walls has become Broadleaf Guest Ranch, one of the largest independent tourism operators in southeast New Brunswick, and is owned by the seven children. The 700-acre all-season business, with a mountain chalet, three log cabins, licensed restaurant, adventure barn and riding stable, caters to corporate conferences, group retreats, weddings, youth adventure camps and family vacations, employing upwards of 40 people each summer.

Daughters Wendy and Kathy, and Kathy’s husband, Darrell, are the day-to-day decision-makers; Wendy looks after the adventure programs, Kathy manages the food service and accommodations, and Darrell is in charge of maintenance. The rest are arms’ length directors, providing objectivity, while third and fourth generation children help with labour.

Accustomed to change

Joyce is making plans for her 90th birthday this July—she wants to rappel down the cliffs at Cape Enrage with Rick Mercer.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” says daughter Kathy, with a smile.

Joyce first rappelled on her 80th birthday, and again on six subsequent years, stopping only after doctors gave her a pacemaker. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles like she has a Plan B.

People of her age are accustomed to riding out change and challenge. During the early years of her marriage, while she taught school, Vernon operated two general stores, maintained a farm, delivered groceries and feed, worked at T. Eaton Co., had a meat cart on the road, worked the marshes and forests, managed a garage and owned and operated a sawmill.

They bought the farm as a legacy for their children, but the financial burden nearly drove them under. They raised beef cattle and had a 200 cow-calf operation at one point, along with 500 hogs. The horses were pets. All revenue sources were funnelled back into the farm.

“Those years [the 50s and 60s]were worrisome,” says Joyce, “but I never felt like giving up. Vernon did once; thought about moving away and starting over, but it was a short thought. I had more confidence in him than he had in himself. He was just into too many different things. Farming was really his life. I knew this was important…and I knew we would find a way.”

During that period, Joyce took in boarders and gave birth to Bobby, the fourth child. Vernon worked where he could and soon, they could focus on the farm, which they named Broadleaf after a common grass found on the nearby marshes. Gradually, Vernon bought more land—a bit of marshland here, a few acres there.

“Whenever Dad went to the marsh, he walked,” says Kathy. “It wasn’t about doing a job, but seeing the animals. He knew the facial characteristics of each cow. He had a relationship with every animal.”

Three more Hudson children arrived to round out the stable crew: Danny, Wendy and Douglas. Vernon bought the farm’s first brood mare and they began raising colts. While all the children loved horses, Danny, in particular, was smitten. When he was four, his dad snuck a new pony into the living room to surprise him on Christmas morning. (Years later, Danny did the same for his own son, Justin; however they were not so fortunate and had a mess to clean up afterwards.)

Trail rides $1

In 1966, Vernon told the children he had to sell the horses that were not earning their keep. Upset, Donna and a friend bought a piece of Bristol board at the general store and wrote on it: Trail Rides $1. They nailed it to a tree and that summer, earned enough to purchase horse feed for the winter.

The next year, Vernon built a lean-to for the horses and a vegetable stand for Joyce. Always one to chat up a visitor with local lore, Joyce began offering refreshments on the front porch; the refreshments soon advanced to full country meals on offer.

Having read about farm vacations in a magazine, she fixed up the spare room for those who wished to stay longer.

“Dad used to say, ‘Come on kids, let’s get to bed before your mother rents our bed out’,” notes Kathy. Broadleaf Guest Ranch began to take shape.

Although Vernon also bred hogs, his children didn’t share his passion for the squealing, smelly animals. “You couldn’t build a relationship with a pig,” notes Kathy. One day when she came home from school the farrowing barn was on fire—they would renovate the hog barn, initially for receptions and catering, then later into a 280-seat restaurant.

Joyce and Vernon encouraged each of their children to leave the farm, rationalizing that if they came back, it was because they wanted to. They also believed in growing their business to conform to the interests of the children.

“But you can’t just do something because you like it,” says Kathy. “You have to find a way to make it sustainable. This led us to become diversified into things that complement the other. We didn’t just sell a trail ride, we sold a meal and accommodation. We knew our product had to be all encompassing.”

The work is lifestyle

By 1983, Joyce and Vernon were tired—the family business had grown to more than they wanted to handle. The children bought the farm and built them a retirement home, which Joyce ran as a B&B for many years.

The siblings had already learned to work together on the farm, but running a family business was a challenge. “It took us a long time to sit around a board table and make business decisions that would affect a brother or sister in an emotional way, then share a meal together as a family,” says Kathy. “That is still hard today. But you put processes in place and you bring people into the discussion.”

For Wendy, the ranch is home and the work is lifestyle. She studied horse training in West Virginia, returning home to start summer riding camps for children. Subsequent studies helped her create an equine-assisted learning program, which she and Kathy deliver. She says horses have valuable lessons to teach about honesty because they are so forthright in their response. Her work has been tremendously rewarding—many children come back, year after year, first as campers, then to work on the ranch.

“We are relationship people,” says Kathy. “You have to have a good ear to listen and to understand. It’s not the ride on the horse, but the experience. That experience of awe may come on the back of a horse, with a home-cooked meal, or on the deck of a cabin overlooking the marsh.”

In 1995, they embarked on a large expansion, adding the chalet, log cabins and dormitory that would allow them to operate year round.

Letting it go

In 2000, Bob moved home from Ontario for a few years and brought a fresh perspective, financial acumen, and an element of risk-taking to the farm. He led the team into creating a commercial kitchen, turning the catering hall into a full-service restaurant and giving the ranch a face-lift.

A year later, their dad was gone at the age of 76. Estate planners advised the family to put the ranch up for sale… not for the purpose of selling per se, but for letting go. “

We’ve gone through phases since,” says Kathy, admitting she probably has the strongest attachment. “First, we didn’t want anyone to know it was for sale, and for a few years we just patched things up, rather than repair them. Then we had a few years of fixing things. Now we are into operating it again, because we want to.”

Joyce recalls a family meeting in 1997, when the children spoke about what the farm meant to them. “We always thought it was just a place to work, but it all tied into the values of growing up as a family working together.”

“That was the greatest day of our life, realizing that what you put into being a family is so important.”

Having said that, “if a buyer came along we are okay with letting it go now,” adds Kathy.