Foster Road Ranch

On 2/20/26, the horse world lost 75+ years of experience and horse wisdom when my dad, Roy Winemiller, moved on to wait for us in heaven.

In true Roy story telling fashion, I’ll tell you about him and why we are named Foster Road Ranch.

On Foster Road in Washington Illinois, my dad and his family raised and trained ponies and horses for decades as a part of their family farm. 80 acres dedicated to hogs, cattle, ranch ponies and more. Like many farmers, my Grandfather had a job (Caterpillar) and a farm business in anything that could make money and support his family. The children and some of the grandchildren carried this on for a good number of years.

You can imagine the stories and long line heritage that comes from a place like that. I know many of you can relate ❤️.

My dad found his way from the farm to two tours in Vietnam, a President of the company my grandfather founded, a chamber of commerce President and even a beauty pageant judge in Russia one time:). He was a voracious reader and never could understand the value to tv entertainment. Anyone who knew him, was cautious to debate him on farm, aircraft or gun topics 😉.

Dad came to stay with us 5 years ago as he needed to be close to the VA to fight colon cancer. He beat it 🙂. While he was here he soaked in pride over his two granddaughters love for riding and mine too. He proudly took pictures to share on his Facebook and stood by with an old horseman’s eye as he saw me navigate a large riding program over the weeks he was able to be there. He never got to see Foster Road as it is today but often gave me advice and enjoyed hours talking about it and the photos I’d send.

I remember lamenting over my little old tractor and my dad, not one for excuses, said ‘Your grandpa and I built this whole place with a 30hp tractor and a few implements. Poor people have poor people ways Molly. You’ll figure out how to do it with what you have.’ He was right…I’m still out here with my little old tractor figuring it out.

I saw this time as an opportunity to remember the horsemen in our lives who never won a ribbon. Who passed down real hands on knowledge built on a thousand horses through their hands. They made wonderful horses for the people they sold them to. Horses that were model citizens by the time they left. True horsemen.

I know the pride that comes from watching your children take on this love for the horse and this skill. I see it in my own. I hope we do him proud. He was one of the strongest, smartest men I’ve ever known. A giant of a man in many ways. He deserves to be remembered as the talented rider he was and how much he loved these animals. He is a huge reason I am here and Foster Road exists ❤️.