In the pioneer days, outdoor meetings were common. One of the more famous examples is at Independence Rock in central Wyoming, a landmark and way-station on the old Oregon Trail. The rock was the first meeting place for Freemasons in what was to become the State of Wyoming. There’s a similar site in Montana at the summit of Mullan Pass, where a stone altar and officer’s stations mark the first recorded meeting place of Freemasons there in 1862. Even longer ago, Masons met wherever they could find seclusion, whether in a flat above a pub or in a quiet meadow.

Now, however, the opportunity to experience an outdoor degree is rare enough to draw a crowd—this year’s degree ceremony is expected to attract well over 100 sideliners. “I think people appreciate the throwback nature of it,” English says. “Sideliners and officers get to experience something that directly ties them to Masonic experiences from hundreds of years ago.”

Aside from the turnout, the biggest difference between this degree and most others is, of course, environmental. In place of the checkerboard floor and blue walls are a dirt-packed stretch of ground roughly 70 feet by 30 feet and a grove of trees outlining the space. The day of the event, officers walk the grounds raking up leaves and packing down the dirt. In the center of the open space stands a large boulder, which they use for their altar. Every other piece of paraphernalia is stored in a shipping container on site. “This isn’t an easy thing to put on, by any means,” says Tim Tagget, the Junior Warden of the lodge. Tagget was raised a Master Mason at the ranch in 2016.

Both English and Tagget say the extra work of preparing the outdoor degree is well worth it. Being out in nature, they say, enhances the experience for all who attend, and has a special impact on candidates. Having gone through two degrees inside the lodge, Master Mason candidates appreciate the change of scenery. “When you’re inside the lodge, you have the AC cranking or the heater on,” Tagget says. That sense of comfort and familiarity changes when a candidate suddenly finds himself in unfamiliar territory.

At the Liefer Ranch, the gentle breeze filtering through the cordon of ancient oaks carries with it more than just the smell of late-blooming lupine and thistle sage. It carries the ineffable joy of the outdoors. “There’s just something about feeling the air and the elements against your face,” English says. “Not being confined—it’s really freeing.” 
As Tagget explains it, all those elements—the motes of dust caught mid-air by the light streaming through the trees, the harsh scrape of boots against the earth, the bellowing of a bull in the distance—keeps a candidate’s mind on the task at hand. “It forces you to really be in the moment and notice all the little things,” he says.

In the end, the memories of the outdoor degrees bring a special meaning to all involved—and helps bind the lodge together. “As a fraternity we always try to instill a sense of trust among each other, but during the outdoor degree, where everything is new and the sun is beating down on you and the ground is uneven, you really do have to trust your brothers even more than usual.”