One of the things those of us who ranch often hear is that we were born a hundred years too late. I’m not sure if that is really true; but there is no doubt that our way of life is less convenient than many of the choices that are available in today’s world.
Recently, many of us lost an old friend (Ed Machado) in a car accident. Ed was a man who lived his life where and how he wanted to. Quick with a joke, funniest guy in the room, handy as all get out, good camp cook, friend to all. He was one of the lucky ones. After Fred passed, Ed reached out to offer his help; but, also with a serious message for me. He reminded me that this was my life too, and not to listen to anyone but myself when it came to whether or not to give it all up. His call came only a few weeks after Fred passed and I’d only met Ed a few times before, so the call was a surprise, but it resonated with me.
I’ll bet I’ve thought back to his phone call fifty times in the past four and a half years, usually when things were tough and getting tougher. Nothing like the soulful sound of a real deal old buckaroo reminding you to stay strong.
So today, when reason tells me it’s less work to buy my beef in town, I still butcher my own. When I’m tired from spring farming, I still plant a big garden. When it’s easier to eat a frozen pizza for supper, we still go out, make a sage brush fire in the backyard and cook steaks or a Dutch oven stew. Same goes for keeping and using our own sourdough. Butterfly hotcakes out of a box or a loaf from the store are easier, but you can’t even compare them with homemade sourdoughs.
It would always be faster to run calves through a chute to brand; but, where’s the fun and romance in that. Ranching, particularly in a place like the Great Basin, was a tough business a hundred years ago, and it may be even tougher today. I guess the bottom line is, it’s all about how and where you want to live. What you want to wake up to each morning and what kind of lessons you want to teach your kids and theirs.
Most of American and indeed, most of the first world, don’t really even comprehend how people like us live. Heck, parts of my own family see me as an eclectic anomaly in today’s world. I have good friends in Winnemucca who I know get a kick out of coming 45 miles out of town for an occasional trip back in time. That’s all okay.
I laugh out loud at articles on “farm to table”, “community agriculture” and “locally sourced produce”. Today’s greenies think they’ve invented something new. Last year I had a visit from one of our farm services technicians. They were interested in my crop selection and frequency and type of fertilizer application. I noted that I rotate or over seed crops to improve soil health and that I drag meadows to break up and spread the manure my cows leave over the winter months. Nothing else. I mention that it’s worked for 160 years and that we gravitate toward grasses and crops that work together and while not always strictly native, work like they are. We also think it’s important not to push Mother Nature beyond natural limits if we want to survive and thrive long term…my comments were greeted with a couple knowing nods and questions about whether I’m taking a page from the latest holistic farming practices. Nope, I say, just watching and listening to what has worked for the four generations before me. This was greeted with blank stares. So, were we born a hundred years too late? Maybe and maybe not. Our lives might have seemed more mainstream back then; but, never ever have our lives and lifestyle been more important to maintaining balance and reality in a crazy off-balance world than they are today. So here’s to 21st century buckaroos and ranchers. Keeping the faith and living the dream in real time.
Well, to quote my old friend Ed Machado, that’s all the “random stupid stuff” I have for today, I wonder what the poor folks are eating tonight?
Kris Stewart is a rancher in Paradise Valley, Nevada.