This is a good book.
“The Ride of Her Life” by Elizabeth Letts is the Estes Valley Library’s One Book One Valley title for 2025.
It is the true story of 63-year-old Annie Wilkins who set off on horseback from her barren farm in Maine in 1954 with the idea of seeing the Pacific Ocean before she died. She did that and more.
Letts tells two stories in the book. The first is the factual account of the woman’s journey, told in part by the diaries she kept en route. The second is a sociological/cultural look at the way car travel and the interstate system has changed the United States since the 1950s.
And if you like, a third thread runs through the book – call it spiritual – the absolute belief in and commitment to a happy ending based entirely on the good will and kindness of the American people.
And here I would like to add a plug for my profession – newspapering. Almost from the moment Annie Wilkins mounted her horse Tarzan and set off down the road with her dog, Depeche Toi — French for “hurry up” – local, small-town papers across the country carried her story. And for the record, Annie was not the kind of person to give her dog a French name. French neighbors in Maine named the dog.
The Associated Press national wire service also followed her trail, and it seems to me that she could not have made the journey had good people not read about her.
Small town residents anticipated her travel plans. She almost always had a bed to sleep in and a stable for her horse (later two horses). Once a woman found Annie on the road and gave her a haircut on the spot.
Outside Norton, Kan., a woman pulled up in her car with a card table and two folding chairs in the trunk. She served Annie a hot tuna casserole for dinner.
And another nod goes to local police departments in towns across the country. I did not know that many stations would put a traveler up for the night for free. In the late 1800s, it was common for homeless men to seek shelter in jails. If the jail was empty and a cot was available, why not? It would be up to the discretion of the chief, of course, but Annie took advantage of this kindness more than once.
She called herself the last of the saddle tramps and she probably was. She left Maine after selling her farm for $54.36 in back taxes. She was not married, she had no children, and she was just about broke. She was in poor health and her country doctor gave her two years to live. Why not take destiny into her own hands?
Her timing was good. Cars were becoming more and more commonplace, and freeways were being built at a rapid pace, but small-town America was thriving in 1955. She could find stables, cheap diners, and friendly folks who were not afraid to open their doors to a stranger. Had she delayed her journey by a few years, things would have been different.
One upside to the car boom in the 1950s has already become obsolete: maps. Gas stations used to give them out for free. And when Annie set out on her journey, she had no idea of how to get to where she was going. The free maps helped.
She left Maine in November and by May was Little Rock, Ark. When she picked up her mail, there was an invitation from the organizers of Frontier Days inviting her to join the rodeo parade if she could make it to Cheyenne by late July.
From Arkansas she headed north through Missouri and then turned west crossing Kansas. She entered Northern Colorado heading west toward Greeley and then north. She made it to Cheyenne in time for the parade.
The band played “California, Here I Come” as she marched down the street.
Annie never asked anyone for anything. She made money along the way by selling 10-cent post cards of herself on horseback. She had no sponsorships. Again, the kindness of strangers made her journey possible including the gift of her second horse, Rex, in Kentucky.
Over the course of her 18-month journey covering nearly 5,000 miles Annie became a minor celebrity, speaking at Rotary Clubs, churches, schools and town hall meetings.
But she must have dearly loved the sparsely populated open spaces when it was just her and her beloved animal companions, her best friends. They had been through storms, both rain and snow, a flash flood, and a near-poisoning.
The lowest point of the journey came when Rex died following an accident. Annie almost gave up the trip, only 180 miles short of her destination, Hollywood.
She was listless, sad and once again broke. But she realized that she was carrying the hopes and good wishes of everyone who had helped her along the way.
“She had one thing left to offer,” wrote Betts. “She could refuse to quit.”
Annie didn’t have much but what she did have was more than enough. Courage, love, loyalty. Friends throughout the country. Wonderful animals. And a belief in the future. These were Annie’s attributes that caught the country’s imagination and respect. She kept going.
And on April 15, 1956, Annie appeared on Art Linkletter’s TV game show “People are Funny.”
She and Tarzan traveled from North Hollywood to Long Beach where she rode him along the Pacific Ocean shore accompanied by the Long Beach Mounted Patrol. She had done it.
She never rode long-distance on horseback again and returned to Maine with Depeche Toi. She took the bus. She died in 1980 in Maine at age 88, long after she had been given two
years to live.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Copies of the book “The Ride of Her Life” are available at the Estes Valley Library. In January, themed One Book One Valley programs will take place including a visit from author Elizabeth Letts.