Ten Reasons I Ranch

A contest becomes a statement

Ten Reasons I Ranch

The immensity of this life

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

 

           You could hear them before you could see them emerging from the willow thicket.

            Both of them wore the mark of summer with fresh straw hats. They were real and you could discern their stature by their economy of noise. Gathering pairs with calves to be branded, they weren’t whooping and hollering for the purpose of any exposé of cowboy image. They used only enough stimuli to move the pairs. Louder for energy and softer for positive responses, they emerged from the brush into full view.

            For 125 years their predecessors had jingled horses at or before sunup to perform the same springtime ritual in that same setting. The cattle that were herded out of the brush had been gathered in the previous days into the naturally sub-irrigated bottom for the purpose of having them at hand for the branding. That could take place only when enough crew was available. It was Saturday morning, and the crew that came for the purpose of the work that day toiled at other careers during the week. It was only on weekends that they could return to a way of life that many of their families had lived for generations.

            It was a homecoming of sorts.

            Mounted on a local Tom McCauley bred gelding, the resident rancher, Dusty Hunt, was my life long friend. He and I had started to kindergarten together, and we had graduated from college together. We shared many things not the least of which was our journey to the title of rancher. Neither of us inherited a thing. We have struggled with entries of accumulated risk and way too much debt.

            I have told him more than once that his determination has always given me encouragement and reinforced hope … I am extremely proud of him and his success.

            The Methods

 Every ranch is different.

That day, now some years ago, Dusty had mounted Kenny Brown to rope and drag calves as soon as we got the cattle penned. That method was exactly what we would have done down the creek at my cousin’s 45 years ago, but my granddad would have sorted the calves off and thrown them into a smaller pen when we branded in the same bottom and 150 yards from the corral that Dusty now uses.

The latter method has become my preferred method. As a kid, I just never enjoyed having those horned Hereford cows on the hook and blowing snot on me as I flanked and held their calves in the same pen as we branded.

At home, our practice is to sort and brand calves separate from their mothers. It takes more time at the onset, but I believe it results in less overall stress in the branding pen. That doesn’t mean it is best for any other circumstance, though.

Dusty and I also have different cattle at least in color. On a steady march toward stronger Angus influences, he has gone black and I have gone red. I like the reds and he likes the blacks. The greater market may demonstrate preference for his color, but, for our situation, I like red.

We both rotate our cattle. Both approaches are predicated on accumulated animal unit months. We also retain our own heifers. For many reasons, it may not be the best economic choice, but we have concluded we want our own breeding philosophies extended over time in our herds. I don’t like the actual mechanics of retaining those replacements, though, and I have grown very interested in handling those calves separately and completely remote from the rest of the herd. That alternative is not yet possible, but perhaps someday that will change.

The end result in both approaches is to wean and sell enough calf crops to achieve success. That is the essence of ranching. That is our goal.

The contest

 As I sifted through the industry emails on a recent morning, I saw where Beef Magazine was promoting a contest to be judged on the basis of the best 10 reasons a rancher ranches. Initially, I wasn’t interested, but I saw where the winner was going to get a custom made Greeley Hat Works hat.

Whoa!

I thought about it several times during the day, and, after I got home, I reread the announcement.

“What the heck,” was my reaction. “I’ll give this a shot.”

The more I contemplated the rationale, the more complex the task became. It was natural to start with those who had influence on me, but, when I got into that reasoning, I checked the word count and it was already at 700 words and I wasn’t anywhere near a conclusion. Since the contest was limited to 300 words, my whole approach had to be altered.

By the next morning, I was ready to scrap the whole thing and go to the ranch and forget about it. I had better things to do.

Like a song that couldn’t be shed from my mind, though, the issue became a tedious predilection. I was challenged to find honest words that reflected my choices and my life. It was difficult and too many iterations were concluded before anything felt right. The words eventually became:

          I ranch because I want to be a rancher.

I am predestined to being a rancher. I ranch because of the curiosity of this life as seen and described by those who came before me. They bestowed their views upon and within me.

I ranch because I love the immensity and purity of the sensory revelations created by grass, cattle, cowboys, horses, and summer rains.

The patterns of life are timeless. I ranch because I am humbled being a participant in the continuum of life.

I ranch because I am fascinated by the completion of tasks and the horizons that are then recreated. Nothing is perfect and nothing is final.

I ranch because I like weather. I’m reconciled to every aspect of it. Hot, cold, dry, wet, still or windy all imply something that must take place to trigger a shift in the cycle. My dress allows me to deal with it.

Few recognize the immensity of the mental, physical and skill detail of ranching. Every ranch is different and every ranch cannot be run exactly the same. My conclusions are layered and applied. I ranch because I savor that freedom.

I don’t believe ranching and spirituality can be mutually exclusive. I am a member of the grandest church. I am in the midst of its sanctuary daily, and I am awed by its creator. That is why I ranch.

I ranch because I want to pass the extraordinary passion of this life to some young person who does not yet know he or she will be a rancher much less what it means.

I ranch because I can unabashedly wear the hat of my being without pretension or hesitation.

I am … a rancher.

Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “Yes, that is the way I feel about this life that has blessed my being. I am awed by this whole journey.”