As we wound our way back home along Interstate 10 after visiting The Owl Bar and Manny’s Buckhorn for an article that was published in ¡Sabroso!, Russell started making noise as we approached Truth or Consequences. “Hey,” he chimed, “hop off at the Williamsburg exit and I’ll show you that cactus ranch.”
Wow, I thought, cacti in the desert; what an ingenious concept. And people actually pay for this? Maybe I just have to see this wondrous cactus ranch for myself.
Well, we found Buffalo Bill’s Exotic Cactus Ranch that day, and I guess this is where I apologize for not believing that a so-called “cactus ranch” is worth a few pages in our magazine. What I saw the day I met David Lamb and George Lambert is nothing short of paradise.
Buffalo Bill’s is easy to blow by if you’re headed into downtown T or C, towards the only stoplight in town. A sign that bears a large woolen buffalo head tells you you’ve found it. Once inside, your eyes dance from one gorgeous bloom to another. Yes, we live in a desert, and yes, we have more cacti than we know what to do with, but the hypnotic plants inside Buffalo Bill’s are more than just prickly pears and barrel cactus; these arid tenants of the desert are like nothing you’ve seen before.
“We were in the cable TV business out in the Pacific northwest,” co-owner Lamb begins the story of how he and Lambert ended up running a cactus business in the middle of the desert. “We wanted to get out of the rat race; slow down in a small town and find something we enjoyed.”
He talks as he works, continually snipping away at wilted blooms. His tool is a hemostat, a surgical instrument that is used to stop blood flow. In the hands of Lamb, it is like a paintbrush in the hands of an artist; when he is finished, a plant is a work of art. Clearly, he enjoys this.
The soft smile of Lambert is testimony that she too enjoys tending to her prickly inventory, although both admit the retail end of the business is a double-edged sword.
“Retail can be rough, but we’ve met some really nice people, and we like the laid-back atmosphere of T or C.”
Visitors and patrons of the Cactus Ranch include people along the I-10 corridor, from Santa Fe to Las Cruces and beyond. Some have come from as far as San Antonio, Houston, California and all across the Midwest. Their business includes not only the show-stopping foliage of exotic cactus, but ornate and unusual Mexican pottery, some houseplants and if you venture inside the main building, you’ll find breathtaking photography by Lamb himself. The main attraction, still, are the cacti.
“This is where most of the blooming ones are,” Lambert says, gesturing towards the large greenhouse that sits adjacent to the main building, which used to be a motel. We walked past the large cacti that stood poised in their wooden containers. “This one,” Lambert points out, “will grow a foot-and-a-half a year, and will produce its ‘arms’ much sooner.” She is referring to the South American Saguaro, which is the exotic version of its Saguaro cousin in Arizona. The difference between the native Arizona variety and the South American version can be seen in a matter of months, she adds. On our right were dozens of Mexican pots that I told myself I would come back to in a minute. I was in search of exotic cacti.
The double doors leading inside the greenhouse were partially open, and at first glance the airy room is bursting with color. Several aisles are impeccably arranged according to color and/or species. Toward the back a table overflowing with Mexican Rainbow cactus begged our attention. Its spiny fuchsia blooms burst from its base in an explosion of bright pink. One in particular is so large it would take three grown men to carry it to your car.
Just past the Rainbows are another unique discovery. Lamb makes an informal introduction. “Those are the Blue Myrtles,” he says with a smile. It’s obvious he is fond of this delinquent bunch. So uncharacteristic from the rest of the room, Blue Myrtles, with their almost unattractive abnormal growth, look like something you would find underwater. After a few seconds of gazing at their round, rippled appendages, you start to fall in love. Some are clustered together, some grow in a tall, cylindrical fashion, but all bear the same distinctive gray blue skin. If there were an Elephant Man among cacti, the blue myrtle would be it.
No matter how simple or complex, ugly, unique or unusual, there are many treasures inside this side-of-the-road cactus superstore. For me, the last kind gesture from Dave and George was a treasure of my own: a small grouping of fuzzy cactus mounds dotted with bright orange blooms to remind me of my trip to arid paradise. I guess there are some treasures you create, and other treasures that are simply left to the eye of the beholder.
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