The Blue Rock: A Hidden Sanctuary in Hamilton County When Nancy and her husband Rick—affectionately known as “the ranch-hand”—graduated from Purdue and settled in Hamilton County, it was still small-town Indiana with just 58,000 residents. Today, it has grown to over 400,000. Development has erased much of the open land, but Nancy had other plans. In 2000, she discovered 51 acres that looked like southern Indiana’s Brown County—hilly, untouched, and scallped by Hinkle Creek. “This would make a great horse ranch,” she told Rick. He wasn’t eager to leave lake life, but later admitted, “I liked the lake, but I liked being married more.” The property had never been farmed and hadn’t run cattle since 1974. Nature had reclaimed it—meadows grew into forests, creek bottoms bloomed with wildflowers, and wildlife moved in. Developers had already marked it for a 12-home subdivision. Stakes were in the ground, approval imminent. Nancy yanked them out and declared, “Nope.” She and Rick bought the land, cleared three miles of trails, built a barn, and fenced pastures board by board. During the 2008 recession, they built their house, modeled after an award-winning Portland design. Rick and local carpenters hand-crafted the hickory trim and doors in a makeshift garage workshop. The home was built backwards—its “front” turned away from the road so Nancy’s windows faced the pastures and woods. The trails gained names when visitors kept getting lost. Rick built signs for Bluebird, Big Buck, Tin Pan, Pup, Grapevine, Gopher, Creekside, Ridge, and the East and West Loops. Lost guests now call for rescue: “I’m at Big Buck and Fenceline. Help!” Rick heads out with a grin. Today, the Blue Rock teems with wildlife—deer, coyotes, rabbits, squirrels, and dozens of bird species. Some rarer creatures roam too, though Nancy keeps those sightings private. In 2025, the Blue Rock is less project than way of life. Nancy tends flowers, Rick mows trails and maintains fences, and together they protect what may be one of the last wild pocket of Hamilton County. What could have been a cul-de-sac became a sanctuary. The Blue Rock proves that sometimes the best way to grow is to hold still—to let the land breathe and listen to the voices of creek water, wind, hooves, and wings. It stands as a living patch of Indiana wilderness, preserved not by chance, but by choice.