Distinctly Montana Magazine

104 D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A M A G A Z I N E • S U M M E R 2 0 2 4 Every year, starting in 1999 and ending with the Covid-19 pan- demic, Philip Morris would invite about 350 people out to Mon- tana for a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Travel costs, lodging, meals—everything was paid for. Dubbed the "Disneyland for smokers," a better analogy for the Marlboro Ranch experience might be 1971's Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, starring Gene Wilder in the titular role. Unlike Yellowstone Club, where exclusivity depends on net worth, Marlboro Ranch didn't come with any financial stipulations. You didn't have to be rich or fa- mous or know anybody to get in. For Philip Morris, the ranch's exclusivity equated to brand loyalty. Like in the original Gene Wilder film, the only way to gain access was by invitation. Which meant only the recipients of a Golden Ticket—five were hidden in Wonka's namesake chocolate bars—got a chance to tour his magical factory. Wonka's stroke of genius was his viral marketing plan. To im- prove their chances at a Golden Ticket, children around the world were encouraged to eat as many Wonka bars as possible. Likewise, for Philip Morris, each Marlboro pack you smoked increased the likelihood of you receiving an invitation to Marlboro Ranch, what be- came a lifelong goal for many customers of the brand. Although the Wonka-like sweep- stakes wasn't the only way to get to Marl- boro Country, how Philip Morris determined their most brand loyal has always remained a mystery. But why a dude ranch for smokers, and more importantly, why here in Montana? Forty-five years in the making, Marlboro Ranch was the final iteration, the logical conclusion of Philip Morris' iconic Marl- boro Man ad campaign that started in 1954. To fully realize the Marlboro Country that had only existed on TV and billboards for customers, they had to leave a good first impression. Philip Morris, who knew advertising better than just about anyone in the business, didn't disappoint. For the lucky and chosen few, it was the adventure of a lifetime. As soon as you land in Bozeman, your motley crew of city slick- ers would motorcoach the short way to Clyde Park. Even before you arrive at the ranch, look out your window and you might glimpse several men riding flank, galloping alongside your mo- torcoach in full cowboy regalia, head to toe, in all their glory, like epic riders of a John Ford western. Chances are, the theme to The Magnificent Seven soundtracks the whole surreal scene to Marl- boro Ranch; in the 1960s, Philip Morris had licensed the song as part of their Marlboro Country ad campaign. During the wallpaper-licking scene in Willy Wonka & the Choc- olate Factory, Veruca Salt, one of the Golden Ticket winners, tells Wonka that nobody's heard of a "snozzberry," implying that Wonka just made that up. Wonka leans forward, lowers his voice, and responds with the cryptic line: "We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams." Wonka knows what Veruca Salt doesn't—that this guided group tour she and the others are on has little to do with "snozzberries," or even them, the Golden Ticket winners, and everything to do with Wonka himself and the success of the Wonka brand. Until its closure, the reason Marlboro Ranch existed at all was because of brand loyalists, and

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