A reason to stay… How rural bars keep small towns alive

- Aaron Stuckel

A right-hand turn off highway two in south central Saskatchewan takes me down a dusty gravel road heading east toward god-knows-where. The loose stones slip under my wheels as I take another right towards my first stop: the bar in Ardill, Saskatchewan.

            An embankment hides the meagre village of Ardill from the highway. With scattered, rusted old cars and a couple of ancient buildings, it’s an unlikely place for a successful business. But beneath the rubble and overgrown grass, Ardill has a surprising history.
           Once a thriving rural town, it supported many local businesses, including three grain elevators.  But in 1985, CN Railroad ripped up their tracks and Ardill’s population has dropped ever since. It now has a population of just one person.

The Ardill Hotel. Phote By Aaron Stuckel

          One of the very few things that keep Ardill alive is its bar, one of just three buildings in the near ghost town. Having the first liquor license ever distributed in Saskatchewan, the Ardill bar is unique compared to others like it. People come from miles around to eat wings and drink into the night, sacrificing a small drive out of town for a comfortable place to spend an evening. With a weather-beaten, paint-less wooden exterior and a rusted metal door, the 100-year-old bar welcomes me with a creak of the hinges.

   
            Amber Eisen, 19, sits at the back-right corner seemingly surprised to have a customer so early. It’s about 11:30 am on a crisp, autumn Monday. Not exactly happy hour for a place like this. With nobody else around, we sit and chat about a general day in Ardill Bar.

“I come in at 11. I open everything and just kind of hang out until I get someone who comes in. You get the drink order, and their food order. Then we have to cook their food there in the back,” she says, nonchalantly, as if playing both cook and server isn’t a big deal. “They have to haul water from Mossbank. (Sometimes it happens) where it starts to get low and you have to get Marlo out here, or their sons, to make sure they get water out here in time.”

She’s talking about the owner, Marlo Krauss. He and his wife Angie bought the Ardill bar seven years ago. Since then, the Krauss family has turned one of Saskatchewan’s oldest liquor vendors into a hotspot for local farmers and rural teenagers.
A pool table, shuffleboard and arcade game are scattered about the bar room floor.  On the walls, cattle brands have been imprinted on the walls, part of a fundraising activity put on by the Krausses. This place exemplifies small town hospitality.

After finishing my drink and fries, I walk out of the bar and step onto the front porch. Cigarette butts and chewing gum litter the floor, and I am reminded of the trouble rural hotels have been having just to stay alive.

In 2005, the province of Saskatchewan issued a smoking ban in all enclosed spaces. Sales in drinking establishments subsequently dropped from $7.5 million in 2004 to $4.5 million 12 months afterwards. Sales are getting back to normal now, but the ban isn’t the only problem that threatens rural hotels. In 2010, a study done in Manitoba threatened to ban VLT’s from all bars, a lifeline for many rural establishments. The provincial government did not go through with the ban, but many small town bars continue to struggle.

These types of problems have me questioning the sanity of the Krauss family as I get in my car to leave Ardill. While many across Saskatchewan are quitting the small town bar business, the Krausses are purchasing a second one in nearby Mossbank.

I get back on highway 2, heading deeper into southern Saskatchewan with the sun high in the sky. Just south of Old Wives Lake, I arrive in Mossbank, a town of nearly 500 people, according to recent health region counts. Though its population has grown in recent years, Main Street shows few signs of life as I slide through town in search of the Empress Hotel.

            At the corner of Fourth and Main, The Empress Hotel sits in its modest glory. The mural on the south side of the building pays homage to all that is Mossbank: a grain elevator, a blacksmith shop, a bird sanctuary, CP trains, and Snowbird fighter jets. Above the front entrance is a busted Coke sign that bears the name of the hotel. A cracked cement pad acts as a front stoop and the front door resembles that of the Ardill bar: rusted metal, chipped paint and creaky hinges.

            The front entrance of the hotel is cramped. The worn carpets have come unglued from the backing, creating small waves in the floor. On my left is a rickety staircase with a roll of stained carpeting lying in a heap on the way up. The sound of a blunt metal object striking metal can be heard above.

            Occupying the majority of the main floor is the hotel bar. The floors are new, faintly reflecting the morning sun that streams through a window on my right. In the centre of the main area is a pay-per-game pool table. The green baise top is spotted and wet from leaky pipes in the ceiling. The banging heard above is apparently an attempt to mend the building’s plumbing problems. At the back right corner is a small bar, standing about shoulder high and extending roughly 12 feet in length. Bottles of liquor stand atop the shelves behind and two big cooler doors lined with fake brown leather mimic the décor of the ‘70s style bar room.

            Behind the bar counter stands a woman of average height. Wearing blue jeans and a black sweater, Jennifer Krauss greets me with a cheery smile. She’s the oldest daughter of Angie and Marlo and has been managing the Ardill bar for over seven years. Now she’s helping open up the hotel here in Mossbank.

 It becomes clear right away why the Krauss family reputation as bar owners has the town of Mossbank excited about the hotel's future. Krauss has a way of making a city slicker like me feel at ease, even in a small town like Mossbank. Before I know it, she has me lips-deep in a cold beer.

“The owners that were here, they weren’t here for the people. And we are.” 

            We sit down to discuss her family’s acquisition of the bar, and whether or not her dad is crazy for purchasing a business that hasn’t exactly been profitable in over a decade. This is the third time the hotel has changed hands in less than two years.

“The owners that were here, they weren’t here for the people. And we are,” says Krauss. “Like dad said, if we can make enough to keep our employees paid and our customers happy, that’s all we want. We don’t want to make a profit, we want somewhere where people can go for fun.”

            A group of American hunters sits at a table near the bar sipping on cool Budweisers, only half- heartedly paying attention to the rugby game playing on the brand-new flat screen above their heads. Krauss serves them intermittently as we talk.
          This is Mossbank’s tourist demographic. The bird population around Mossbank brings hunters from down south into town during the fall for a week or two of hunting ducks or geese. Although it does help local businesses, it doesn’t necessarily keep them alive either.

 “Everything needs a good facelift. Keep it looking old style, but fix it up a little,” says Krauss.

The ongoing renovations are stalling with the discovery of the plumbing problems and a leaky roof. Krauss takes me upstairs to the hotel section of the building. There are eight doors in the hallway, each opening to a small cramped room. Many have brown stains on the walls where water has leaked in. One door in the hallway houses the only bathroom on the floor. A few of the rooms have brand new laminate flooring, but there is still a lot of work to be done. I snap a few pictures and ask Jen who she thinks will fill the rooms when they are done.

“We’re not really sure because it’s been such a long time since rooms have been appealing. We’re hoping to get people who are coming home for the holidays. Hopefully we’ll hit a little bit of everybody, but we know for sure it will be the hunters,” she says. That’s not much to bank on considering the hunting season consists of only four months during the fall.

After the tour, I say goodbye to Krauss and head toward the coffee shop. I begin to think about the state of rural hotels. They have, in fact, been doing much better in Saskatchewan in the last few years. The province's economic boom has increased cash flow in small communities, and this has increased spending in small town bars.

“I would say a majority of them are doing fairly well with the way the economy is,” says Tom Mullin, president of the Saskatchewan Hotels and Hospitality Association. “I think the issue is they are competing head-on with government liquor stores and franchises. They don’t have the same pricing structure in place, so they can’t compete adequately.”

Private liquor vendors must pay a 10 per cent tax on all alcohol purchases, which increases their product prices. This allows government liquor stores to undercut private stores, according to Mullin.

            The people of Mossbank don’t seem to be too worried about pricing structures. They are just happy to have their hotel back in the hands of a local who knows the community’s values. It helps that the Krausses have the Ardill bar on their resume. It’s a popular drinking establishment among Mossbank residents.

 “It’s quite an undertaking they’ve taken on, but they’re the perfect couple to run a bar in a small town.”

People in Mossbank are excited about the hotel’s future.

“It’s quite an undertaking they’ve taken on, but they’re the perfect couple to run a bar in a small town,” says Joy Silzer, a long-time Mossbank community member.

As we sit in the coffee shop talking about the re-opening of the hotel, Joy explains what it means for the town. “It gives the same quality of life in a small town as you get in a larger city. It means that people will socialize more in their own town. And any time there (are) more dollars rotating in a small town, it’s good for the whole community.”

            After our brief visit, I jump in my car and hit the highway. With the sun falling and the prairie sky changing colours, the cool wind rushes through my window, keeping me alert as I head home.

All of my life I have lived in cities and could never quite understand what kept small towns alive. With urbanization increasing every day, towns like Mossbank constantly battle extinction. This is where people like the Krausses turn from regular people into unsung heroes. Though they sacrifice profits and financial gain to keep these rural bars and hotels open, they unknowingly give people a reason to stay in small towns and allow their community to survive. Every time their doors open, that’s one more person that hasn’t left town.  And if the success in Ardill is any indication of the Krausses' future in Mossbank, the doors of the Empress will remain open for a long time to come.