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Located in the most beautiful part of the celebrated Sonoma Valley, Indian Springs Ranch is a family heritage property in the sought-after Kenwood community. This stunning 48-acre ranch is a safe and secluded family home yet is only an hour from San Francisco.
Approximately, thirty acres are planted to vineyards… A trophy case full of Gold Medals for wines made from the grapes grown on Indian Springs Ranch testify to the richness and productive potential of the terroir. The remaining acreage boasts a family orchard of apples, cherries, figs and pears plus areas of oak woodland where thousands of daffodils, narcissus, and pink ladies bloom seasonally.
Unique is the ranch’s access to water. Bordered on one side by the year-round Sonoma Creek, an established on-site reservoir, a productive well, and multiple shares in the local municipal water district to ensure water security for both agricultural and domestic uses for your family compound. In addition, four potential building sites provide for family growth, revenue generation, or secure exit strategy.
For the past four decades, under the ownership of George and Greta MacLeod and their four children, Indian Springs Ranch has been the hub of family traditions, community celebrations, and just plain old good times.
But new generations bring new dreams. It is with great pride that George and Greta’s children offer Indian Springs Ranch to the next family. Knowing all the love, and joy, and safety, and good times that are a part of this special place, will echo for those that inhabit it next.
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George, our Dad, had a feel for land. He’d been looking for property for over 10 years, just looking for the right place to farm grapes, raise chickens, settle into his late middle years with some small projects and big dreams. Realtors just couldn’t figure out what he wanted. They showed him sturdy farms, flat and happily productive. They showed him pretty houses surrounded by tidy acres of prunes and apricots. They showed him tame, they showed him wild, damp, dry, high in the mountains, low in the valleys. No, no, no.
But when he set eyes upon the rolling Sonoma hillsides, muscular and golden in early autumn, 1974, he knew value when he saw it. This was the place. The Place.
Fresh out of college, I’d tagged along. “Dad! There’s a creek!” Miraculously, it still flowed with fresh cool water even though it was a dry year. For me, it was the creek. Tangled vines of blackberries lined the banks, and I spotted crawdads poking around the bottom of deep still pools.
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Showings by Appointment:
Mary Anne Veldkamp