Winter time. The cold time. The time when snow can cover up absolutely everything, including me. When everything can freeze and not work and the animals depending on you are left standing out there waiting. Most every day, first thing when I get up, I look ahead on my weather app, monitoring the north for the storm that will one day come.
Several such storms visited us when we first came to the Paintrock Canyon Ranch in 2020. It stayed under minus twenty degrees for over a week at two different points in the winter, and the rest of the time it wasn’t much warmer. The storms dropped multiple feet of snow, more than I had ever lived with before. Frankly, every morning when I headed out the door barely able to move with all my clothes and big insulated boots on, I was a tad bit nervous. Sometimes very nervous.
Will the tractor fail to start because diesel or something else froze? Will the water pipe be frozen? Was I going to bust my ass on the sheet of ice outside the shop door, like yesterday? No matter what we do in preparation, the hardship multiplies by factors when these storms come. Its effect on livestock water hangs like a gigantic icicle about to drop on your head. And hurt it. That winter, the water in the water troughs would freeze four or five inches thick and the piles of ice that we cut and forked out, if you weren’t careful, would grow so big they would encroach on the space needed for the cattle to drink. The concrete apron around it would become a dangerous ice rink if too much water splashed out while cutting the ice with an axe.
Last year, it snowed six inches in early October and soon after melted. Then another four or five inches later in the month, which also soon melted. But then it stayed clear. We didn’t feed a single mouthful of hay the entire winter, which surprised me at this northern latitude. So far this winter, it hasn’t really snowed, and it's already mid-December. The creek is open where the afternoon sun hits it. We went fishing the other day and didn’t even have to wear coats.
The irony is that if we get too much snow, the expense column gets big, but if we don’t get enough snow, it also gets big. Not enough water means we don’t grow the feed in the irrigated fields or the uplands, and beyond that, it affects the wildlife, the fish in Paint Rock Creek – everything living in the ecosystem. Balance is key.
The day before yesterday, I woke up to an unexpected inch of snow that was not forecasted. It wasn’t cold enough to affect the infrastructure or machinery, but my mind went straight to the 800 calves in the office field that Duke IV has been shipping up from Texas and Colorado. Any time cattle are shipped long distances on semi trucks, they are stressed and consequently are more susceptible to sickness. Not only susceptible, but they can succumb to it. (As in die.) It is not necessarily extreme conditions that knocks them over, but rapid or sudden changes in the weather. Not only temperature differences between night and day, and between where they come from and where they have arrived, but the change in their new surroundings: new food, new water, new management, new social hierarchy.
I love my job. The extremes are part of it, and I love those as well. (As long as they don’t come too often!) I wouldn’t do anything else. Being out in the extreme cold when it comes, nursing these fragile calves, balancing the needs of wildlife with the needs of our cattle are part of living out here and making it all work.
It's 5:30 a.m. and I’m heading out the door. It's 28 degrees with a forecasted 42 degree high this afternoon. I’m going to enjoy this warm sunny day while I can.
Several such storms visited us when we first came to the Paintrock Canyon Ranch in 2020. It stayed under minus twenty degrees for over a week at two different points in the winter, and the rest of the time it wasn’t much warmer. The storms dropped multiple feet of snow, more than I had ever lived with before. Frankly, every morning when I headed out the door barely able to move with all my clothes and big insulated boots on, I was a tad bit nervous. Sometimes very nervous.
Will the tractor fail to start because diesel or something else froze? Will the water pipe be frozen? Was I going to bust my ass on the sheet of ice outside the shop door, like yesterday? No matter what we do in preparation, the hardship multiplies by factors when these storms come. Its effect on livestock water hangs like a gigantic icicle about to drop on your head. And hurt it. That winter, the water in the water troughs would freeze four or five inches thick and the piles of ice that we cut and forked out, if you weren’t careful, would grow so big they would encroach on the space needed for the cattle to drink. The concrete apron around it would become a dangerous ice rink if too much water splashed out while cutting the ice with an axe.
Last year, it snowed six inches in early October and soon after melted. Then another four or five inches later in the month, which also soon melted. But then it stayed clear. We didn’t feed a single mouthful of hay the entire winter, which surprised me at this northern latitude. So far this winter, it hasn’t really snowed, and it's already mid-December. The creek is open where the afternoon sun hits it. We went fishing the other day and didn’t even have to wear coats.
The irony is that if we get too much snow, the expense column gets big, but if we don’t get enough snow, it also gets big. Not enough water means we don’t grow the feed in the irrigated fields or the uplands, and beyond that, it affects the wildlife, the fish in Paint Rock Creek – everything living in the ecosystem. Balance is key.
The day before yesterday, I woke up to an unexpected inch of snow that was not forecasted. It wasn’t cold enough to affect the infrastructure or machinery, but my mind went straight to the 800 calves in the office field that Duke IV has been shipping up from Texas and Colorado. Any time cattle are shipped long distances on semi trucks, they are stressed and consequently are more susceptible to sickness. Not only susceptible, but they can succumb to it. (As in die.) It is not necessarily extreme conditions that knocks them over, but rapid or sudden changes in the weather. Not only temperature differences between night and day, and between where they come from and where they have arrived, but the change in their new surroundings: new food, new water, new management, new social hierarchy.
I love my job. The extremes are part of it, and I love those as well. (As long as they don’t come too often!) I wouldn’t do anything else. Being out in the extreme cold when it comes, nursing these fragile calves, balancing the needs of wildlife with the needs of our cattle are part of living out here and making it all work.
It's 5:30 a.m. and I’m heading out the door. It's 28 degrees with a forecasted 42 degree high this afternoon. I’m going to enjoy this warm sunny day while I can.
10 comments
Good morning, Duke. Wishing you and your cows safety through all these winters ahead. Reading about your experiences caring for livestock brought back memories of when we helped a friend care for her Percheron herd, along with a Fresian and a mule. Those icy winter mornings were tough—treacherous and frustrating at times.
Thankfully, she had trough heaters, but we still had to break ice from the buckets, cracking more than a few in their stalls. Plastic and ice just don’t mix well! Despite the cold and discomfort, it was such a rewarding experience. There was something therapeutic about mucking stalls, hauling hay, and giving them fresh water—not to mention the amazing workout.
We miss those frosty mornings together. It’s become one of our favorite core memories as a couple. Keep up the incredible work you’re doing. Wishing you and yours a happy holiday season!
Duke, Thank you for the insight. I myself have a few back yard horses and I used to raise goats and sheep. I remember those days when lambs came to early in the season. Or their mom’s were not the best and we needed to hand feed in feed in 20 degree weather . I also live in a northern climate and I think of guys like you when we get hit with some crazy vortex! Than you! Thank you for your stewardship of this land and for putting food on my table. I know it’s hard and 99% of the public have no idea . Thank you Pard!
Duke, Thank you for the insight. I myself have a few back yard horses and I used to raise goats and sheep. I remember those days when lambs came to early in the season. Or their mom’s were not the best and we needed to hand feed in feed in 20 degree weather . I also live in a northern climate and I think of guys like you when we get hit with some crazy vortex! Than you! Thank you for your stewardship of this land and for putting food on my table. I know it’s hard and 99% of the public have no idea . Thank you Pard!
Hello Duke, I enjoyed readind your December update, especially your comments about hard winters. I grew up in North Dakota and enjoyed my 12 years of flying rescue helicopters in Alaska. Those long cold winters can really test ones metal.
I appreciate your concerns about weather extremes, very evident during our three weeks chasing elk this year in the Paint Rock drainage. Mostly hunted in tee shirt weather and therefore working small groups of local elk. I was surprised on the abundance of grass up there. It didn’t appear to be over grazed.
We really got to know your two cowboys working out of the cow camp cabin, Jack and Oliver. Two first rate young men that stopped in several nights well after sunset. We shared many stories and lots of laughs.
Sorry I missed you this year, always enjoy any opportunity to talk face to face. Looking forward to future Ranchlands updates and newsletters. Wishing you and your family a wonderful holiday season and maybe just enough snow to keep the Big Horns in balance.
Merry Christmas to you and yours!
Leave a comment