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"Inside this Livingston watering hole, cowboys in sun‑faded denim and leather boots sit shoulder‑to‑shoulder with out‑of‑towners tucking into charred steak and fries, while the air smells faintly of woodsmoke and beer. Locals are protective of the place, wary of it being turned into “the new Aspen,” yet the bar still feels like a true community hub where people bond over sports and local gossip as Willie Nelson drifts from the jukebox. When a sudden rain shower blows in, everyone lingers a little longer, and it’s the kind of spot where the bartender knows most of the room by name, including visitors staying only a few nights who feel lucky just to soak it all in." - Jessica Chapel