Grab Hold of History

Look around this vast, open North Country and it seems so empty.  But wide swaths of open spaces belie a hidden inter-connectivity of people, place, and history, braided into the rope of ongoing story.  Out here, that rope is thick and rough, but has been touched, pulled, and knotted by many people over a long time.  On a warm, windy October Monday afternoon, we found ourselves in the corrals, adding another knot on our local story rope.

 

Jeff and Tom had spent the morning rounding up the herd of cattle and calves, driving them home into the corrals from pasture.  That afternoon they would be joined by Carol and me, and our neighbor Brett. We sorted calves from their mamas and prepared to run them through the chute.  They would be receiving fall vaccines and we would also select from the heifers those who would join our herd permanently.

Separated from each other, even for this brief period, the cows and calves were unnerved.  We worked in a cacophony of cow bellows and calf hollers, cows and their big babies yelling to each other across the holding pens. The wind blew dust all around, even through and around the protective wooden fence walls, swirling onto our skin and sticking to our sweat, lodging in wrinkles of clothing and finding its way under our sunglasses and into our eyes.  Despite the warmth of the day, many of us kept our long sleeve shirts and vests on throughout the afternoon as another layer of protection. It was windy and it was loud.

We began the vaccination process.  The calves, most all of whom were born less than 100 pounds in March and April had grown significantly. By now, most have them have reached or exceeded their shipping weight of just under 900 pounds for a steer. They had spent the summer on milk from mama cows with free access to high protein native grasses and plants.  To work them through the chute, a process they are not familiar with, can be a challenge. It is definitely hard work.

Just as we were beginning, some neighbors arrived. Dan and his son John had come to pick up two of their calves who had managed to escape their herd and join ours.  Since we were working our herd today it was an ideal day for them to pick up their two strays.  Dan and John are the real deal. Dan wears a cowboy had and sports a mustache, and not ironically. 

This is when past and present intertwined.  Dan and Tom are roughly the same age.  Both grew up in the area, farming and ranching with their own families.  Carol mentioned that in time gone by, their fathers, Lloyd and Kenneth, respectively, had done ranch work together. Likely they sorted and worked cows in these same corrals, Dan and Tom, as youngsters watching on, themselves helping as they grew up. Today, they worked together again. This time, their own sons and wives helping; the work of farming and ranching passing through another generation.  A similar history is true of Jeff and Brett as Brett’s family has worked with ours over the years as well.  It is likely that again, one day, our own kids will be watching or working along side us. 

 

So few occupations are passed through family members and generations like farming and ranching tend to be. Perhaps that is why Montanans are so proud to say what generation they are.  Jeff is a fourth generation Montanan, he and I carrying on the tradition began over one hundred years ago when his great-grandmother, Laura, homesteaded this land. I wonder if she could have had an inkling of what the future would hold. People have come and gone from this place over time, but some families have remained, toughing out the harsh weather and landscape as farming and ranching conditions have fluctuated over the years. As new generations come along, the elders of the community hand the knotted rope off. We grab hold of the history and add our own stories.