Have you ever wondered about the offstage world of a professional musician? Every month in this column, bluegrass now will provide a glimpse into the lives of some of your favorite bluegrass stars. To see captions, just move your cursor over the photos!

No wonder Ron Thomason never wants to leave his Colorado home.

From his back door, Ron can see nineteen mountains whose snowy crests rise 14,000 feet in the air. To the north are the spectacular Collegiate Peaks. He looks west, and there's the Sangre De Cristo range. Between all that lie the Seven Sisters, and more pure wilderness than many of us see in an entire lifetime.

“It's a pretty awesome place! I ski at Monarch, one of the highest passes in the United States. It's a wilderness area, so we don't have any lights or glitz. Fortunately, we haven't been discovered by Hollywood. I like to go fast, through the trees, get some air . . .” Ron Thomason laughs like Huck Finn might have laughed, his slow Ohio drawl soft as a featherbed. “I really like the danger of skiing, tell you the truth. I go when I'm home and the snow's powdery, about five days a week. I spend so much time in the mountains. I like it here.”

Just 80 miles from Pike's Peak, Ron's home is out in the middle of nowhere. “All the ranches around here are real large, and there's very few houses.” The neighboring county has 2,500 people, and it's two-thirds the size of Connecticut! “I had a lot of bears this summer. I've got elk in the lower pasture. Every morning when I walk down to the barn, I got 20, 25 mule deer kinda eyein' me.”

A devoted hiker, Ron has had several interesting encounters with some of his wilder neighbors. Once, while hiking, he was tracked by a mountain lion. “I was lost in the mountains and coming down in the snow. I didn't notice when it started. I found my own track and was following it back. Eventually I noticed there were lion prints in the bottom of my track. I didn't know it at the time, but I found out later that's how they stalk you. So I started carrying a Glock 10MM in the wilderness.” Ron swears he'd never shoot a critter. “But I figure that if a lion started to eat me, maybe I could shoot myself, put me out of my misery!”

Married for many years to another equestrian, Ron is now a cheerfully eligible bachelor. “I think I have the supreme bachelor pad!” he chuckles. “It's about 5,000 square feet, three stories, and it's totally in the wilderness. Every once in a while, a nice single lady likes to visit me here!” Ron's son, Chace, is 22. “I always told him I'd rather he was a happy fiddler than a frustrated engineer. He called me on September 12, 2001, in his last semester at Cornell and said, 'I'm mad; I've got to do something! I've got to join the Navy.'” Ron's been supportive of his son's decision to enlist. “He says he'll finish college, and I believe it. I just think he really needed to do this. He's in Spain now. I hope to go over there, although I swore I'd never go out of the country again about the same time I moved to Colorado!”

For a guy who loves his home as much as Ron Thomason, leaving doesn't make a lot of sense. “Everybody's so friendly and supportive here. And I've got my horses. Only six now! I've ridden and trained horses professionally for many years. They're Arabians, and they all were champions of one kind or another.” Here's something many fans don't know about Ron: he's a championship endurance racer. “I did a lot of distance racing on horseback, and that can be fairly dangerous. There's a lot of adventure in an eighty-mile race!”

He doesn't like getting hurt, but is resigned to injury as an inevitable side dish with all those tasty helpings of adventure. “How you deal with pain ends up being part of it. When I broke my hip, training a neighbor's horse a few years ago, the neighbors came out and the horse had been draggin' me through the cactus. They said, 'What can we do?!?' I said, 'Well, you've gotta take care of this horse!'” Thomason knew the animal would get lost in the wilderness if he escaped. “But they were afraid. Eventually, just to save his life, I had to get up and walk him to the paddock, on that broken leg! In normal circumstances, I couldn't have done that. But to save the horse's life, I did.” Thomason pauses for a moment. “Then, I passed out,” he drawls, with a big grin.

When he goes up into the mountains, Ron rarely packs a cell phone. He never takes rope; sometimes he doesn't even take food. “I really like to face it that way. There's a thrill in being 58 years old, running six miles a day, taking off a couple times a week and climbing a vertical mile, getting out and clinging on the rocks. Back when I was married, my wife insisted toward the end that I carry a cell, because I'd been stuck out so many times at night, and I'd been in trouble several times. There's a book called Don't Die On The Mountain, and the first sentence says once you decide to go alone, you've already made the most critical decision. You can't afford to make any bad decisions. About 98% of the time, I go alone. You can't let down; you have to concentrate at all times. That's what I like!”

At 58, Ron is in remarkable shape. He spreads the gospel of health and fitness as much as he can, but it's a challenge. “I just did the seminar on weight management at IBMA. Unfortunately, more people are interested in how to get a record contract than how to take care of themselves. I'm not certain the two issues aren't closely related.”

His concern is motivated by the long friendships he has with the bluegrass community. “See, I love all these people. And I love their music. It's made me sad to watch so many of our elders pass away prematurely. One thing inspires me: look at Dr. Ralph! Cuts his weight down, eats small portions, works on the farm. Same thing with Monroe. He was a sucker for sweets, like a lot of us hillbillies . . . but he worked and worked. Those guys have got endurance.”

Thomason cites recent studies that show fats and sweets actually prevent the brain from getting the signal that the body is full. “If you cut out fat meats and sweets for a day or two, you'll start getting the signal that will keep you from overeating. Once you get it, you'll be cognizant of when it's gone. I've seen people in bluegrass that eat until they're uncomfortable! You can be comfortable and healthy if you can just get started.”

His second piece of advice for musicians is simple. “Find every single possible thing to burn up energy. Never take the elevator. Always carry your case. Always walk. For God's sake, don't park next to the stage! That irritates the audience. Nobody wants to hear your bus motor running!”

This month, Dry Branch Fire Squad will tour in Canada, California, Oregon, Washington, Montana, Colorado, and Missouri. A live project from shows recorded in November 2002 is scheduled for summer release. Look for Ron on July 11-13, 2003, at the first High Mountain Hay Fever Bluegrass Festival in Westcliffe, CO, and at his beloved Grey Fox Bluegrass in Ancramdale, NY in July. “It's just a great big time!” he says happily.

THE BIG QUESTION

Caroline: So you're a bachelor. Are you, um, on the market?

Ron: Yeah, I don't think I'm good at living alone. I'd like to find the perfect companion!

Caroline: Okay, if you were going to write a personal ad, what kind of lady would you be looking for? We can use this opportunity to find you the woman of your dreams!

Ron (laughing uproariously): Well, I've had a couple of what I call prospects! I'm a member of Defenders of Wildlife. I believe in the Nature Conservancy. I believe in land conservancy. I'm so hardcore-conservative that people call me liberal, with good reason: I think that the very terms have been turned around, to where people who call themselves conservative are really liberal, and vice-versa. I'd like somebody that has a real true conservative view, somebody who doesn't think the government ought to be in our doctor's office with us. Or our bedroom. I would like somebody that likes to hike, climb and ski, and likes bluegrass music. I need somebody that's self-sufficient, and they'd have to be somebody that didn't expect me to cook for them. I tell you! Most of my recipes start with the words 'MICROWAVE INSTRUCTIONS'.

Wow, it's great to see Ron doing so well in Colorado. He was my 9th grade English teacher in Ohio in the 1980s. He was quite a character. One day, he brought a mandolin to class. After the students arrived each period, he'd have a puzzled look on his face as he picked up the instrument and spoke aloud: "I wonder if I can play this contraption?" Of course, he then proceeded to belt out about two minutes of flawless musicianship with lightning-fast fingers, impressing the heck out of the assembled 14 & 15 year-olds, most of whom had never heard bluegrass performed live, if at all. "Well, what do you know, I can!" he exclaimed, sounding very surprised each time.

One piece of advice if you ever run into Ron again: Do not challenge him to a game of chess. He will beat you very badly. Spare yourself the humiliation.