… and it’s not just the heat. In this catastrophic summer of 2012 a rancher’s mind races like an antelope trapped in a highway median. Sure, the unprecedented lack of rain and the record heat is an act of God, but that does not let you completely off the hook. You entered into a relationship with this land and you knew what you were getting into.
We have always taken pride in the management of this ranch and have gone to great efforts to show the land, the buffalo, and our management to anyone who is truly interested. But this summer the joy has gone out of those tours. By actual surveys, the population of ground nesting birds is a fraction of what it has been in the proceeding few years. This year, the fresh water springs that have run out of our hillsides for eons show only a hint of green. The lawn is wasted with brow grass and invasive weeds. The fruit trees droop and the garden just can’t grow with rationed well water. In the fields where we planted expensive native grasses, the tiny shoots lay dormant. And, the prairie dog towns blow dust when the hot wind blows.
By the end of August, Jill and I decided to stop the ranch tours for two reasons. First, the dryness creates a constant fire danger, and the second reason (and perhaps the bigger of the two), is that the condition of the ranch is depressing, an embarrassment for those of us who have invested so much in making it a laboratory for restoration.
Except for one, the summer pastures are used up. I was saving that one for the sharp-tailed grouse to use this winter for hunting with my falcon. But it looks like the grouse will have to winter in the the river bottoms and feed off the cottonwood buds. They will survive, and likely thrive as they always have.
The buffalo too will thrive. They look much better than the land and after they have used up that last pasture, they will move out onto the National Grasslands where the grass is still good. The cattle that summer on the Grasslands drifted out of the hills a couple of months ago to be near the river where they could get water during that string of days when the temperature rose far above a hundred degrees. The highlands are practically untouched and the buffalo will revel in the grass that nature has stored for any animal with the capacity to travel for their water. Life will go on naturally for the inhabitants of this land who have evolved to handle such hardships. The rest of us will have to learn.
Learning is the point of our little ranch tours and that is why, when a group of interested and influential people contacted us for a September tour we felt torn. These were the kind of people whose understanding of our land could be important. Helping them to see the beauty of the Plains, the ecological importance of the biome, the value of old and new human cultures, was something that we very much wanted to do. We wanted to shine a favorable light on the Northern Great Plains but there had never been a more difficult time to find the beauty. We delayed getting back to them. As we lamented the lost opportunity we talked about the drought and admitted that it was hardly unprecedented. Beginning with the very earliest historical records, the ravages of dryness are well documented. From tree ring studies, to Lakota winter counts, to the conclusions of John Wesley Powell, to the chronicles of the Dust Bowl, climatic swings have been recognized as part of this eco-system. We try to believe that the birds will again return to nest on our ranch, and we are determined that we will be here to greet them when they do.
Jill and I talked for two days about the unpredictability of this land. We recalled the soggy Mays and Junes when we took great pride in the grasses and the proliferation of wildlife. Many times we have taken people through lush pastures and joked about the Cheyenne River bottom looking like the Shannon River drainage in Ireland. When our discussion turned to those magic days, we looked at each other and realized that we were contributing to the myth – that the Northern Great Plains could be just like Europe. Suddenly we realized that despite our best intentions, to stop touring our ranch when the rains ceased, boarded on a lie. This is our land. This is what we live with. This year it is like an early morning spouse with the flu. Not at its best, but still your land. Love persists, on the good days and the bad.
So we decided to give that last tour. To move across our land and point out what is happening here. It will be honest. And part of that honesty is to understand this biome as a whole: to point out and celebrate the natural strategies for surviving the climatic vagaries that are an integral part of this land. To search for a way for humans to find their place in the complex, spatial mosaic of the Great Plains. Perhaps a tiny tour around this droughty little ranch will help us to better understand that our relationship to this land is a metaphor for our relationship to the greater eco-system of Earth herself.
Good on you guys.
Dan, nice post. Had the opportunity to talk to Leonard Reynolds on the eve of his land auction, and walk a bit of that property. Pretty dry. Also drove on down to Scenic to see what the old town looked like after Twila sold it. Talked to a fella there at Tatanka who said he’d worked with you. Didn’t realize your ranch was that close. Glad you are still doing the tours, even with the grass as dry and the wind so hot as it has been. Had the thought that I’d like to see your ranch one of these days, maybe make some photographs. Best of luck as the seasons change.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
“This is my own, my native land”?
Never forget what you’ve accomplished in that land that is both beautiful and unforgiving.
Glad you gave the tour. It is important for people to see the dry as well as the austere and the opulent and seeing them separately enhances the understanding of each. There is always next year….the bison keep going…today’s crunch, tomorrows squish, at least we hope.
So glad you gave the tour. Living in the plains never has been about lush, lovely summers. It’s about living with what nature provides you with at this day and time. And appreciating what this particular season brings. Like you said…….not at its best, but still yours and still the Great Plains.
I passed through your beautiful land Labor day weekend, and yes it was dry, but I appreciate what you’re doing with your ranch and it shows. Dry times test a person as you have shared, but rain will come.The bison are a beautiful animals! Keep up the good work!
Here in south Florida we are hot and humid and of late happily receiving the rains which in the past were often. The birds coming to visit me are now numbering maybe twenty where before many scores came on my balcony for seed, grapes and peanuts. I began this feeding, which I really don’t approve of, when the bushes and trees in my area could no longer sustain wildlife. Here people seem to feel “trimmed neatness” is the answer. I am so happy that you and Jill decided to continue tours. People need to see what is happening to our earth. I love reading your accounts of the land of the plains. They touch my soul. Thank you. Someday I will come. Please be there.
It is all part of nature’s cycle, and your whole ranch is just as good as ever. There are the seasons, and there are the cycles of too much and too little water as well. All of them are part of what the land actually is, and has always been. Your job is just to love the land for all that it is, and in all the parts of nature’s cycle. This time is just as important and interesting as the rest of the cycle, and the good times will return as they always have. May you have God’s blessings in the good times, and the lean times too. What you are doing is truly beautiful, and I appreciate all of you on the ranch very much for sure. Hang in there guys and girls, and things will get better again.
I put you all in God’s hands.
May the blessings be.
Love, Don
Well, I am drawn to the Great Plains for a lot of reasons but a lush green summer prairie isn’t one of them. I spent late July this summer touring the Grasslands and Black Hills on the motorcycle and specifically sought out the primitive Sage Creek campground in the N. Badlands just for the arid desert climate and landscape. I expected to be the only guy out there, so was surprised (and a little miffed) to find the campground three-quarters full of fellow desert wilderness-seekers: single campers, couples, even a family with little kids.
Anyway. I love you guys and the ranch no matter what color it is, what the bird count is, or what mood the climate is in. Kind of like staying in relationship with my teenage daughters, maybe.
Hi Dan,Hi Jill,
Well all your rain poured onto New Zealand, we just had the two wettest winter months of the last 6 years. I hope things will get better for you guys next year.
Nicolas
The choices you and Jill confronted were very difficult but I think you made the right decision to allow the tour. I agree with you and the other posters here that the Great Plains biome is highly cyclic over the long term, and to not “share” it when it is less than “beautiful” would be to deny a significant part of its reality. Ironically, the fact that your land is highly stressed right now but your buffalo herds will survive by doing what they do naturally–roaming and grazing elsewhere–is a perfect validation of your decision to raise buffalo instead of cattle. Good luck to you as another hard winter approaches.
Hello Dan,
Seeing your promised land suffer so much from this severe drought must be heartbreaking. However, I agree with the other posters : hiding the truth would not have been a way to make people understand.
Besides, I am amazed – and happy ! – to read that the buffalo are quite OK. How can large, heavy and fur-covered creatures stand such heat…while it was so hard to me when I was hiking in Utah two months ago, wearing only a T-shirt and shorts ?
Keep going Dan…And take care.
Dan: I agree with those who urged you to continue the tours to show the reality of what is taking place and, hopefully, learn about the implications of that. I personally know its hard to face that but necessary. Hang in there! Jim Herrick
Dan, I was born in 1933 in Aberdeen. My Mother said I learned to walk in my crib. She could not put me on the floor because of the dust that came in
even though towels were stuffed along the window sills and rugs rolled up to push against the doors. The flowers of my childhood were dandelions, lilac and hollyhock which did not need much water. Our neighborhood was full of cottonwood tress; their roots go deep to find the water and fill up sewer peipes. Yes, South Dakota has always had weather cycles but now the entire world is having that same thing. Michigan was extremely hot and dry this summer. The fruit crops where we live, peaches, cherries, apples
(this computer has a mind of its own) Thje fruit crops——-apples, were virtually wiped out by an unusually warm spring followed by severe frost.
Please continue your tours. This is what we are living with in many areas and maybe people will wake up to the fact of global warming when they see it first hand and the devastating effect on the lives of real people.
I am concerned too! Check out this organization…. I joined in July for my grandchildren. Just give it a look and if If makes sense to you…we’re starting a souTh Dakota chapter in oct.
I admit to never having been to your part of the U.S, though my ancestors on my mother’s side hale from South Dakota. Here in Nevada, people want to believe we are all desert and that desert is ugly. Having come from nthrn CA 31 years ago I originally shared that view. But living in Reno has taught me that although the land is large, the view sometimes needs to be small, as our climate is both fickle and stingy at times. I now take pleasure in the small. The flowers that you see when you really look; the birds that you see when you are still; the view of the beautiful clouds – always changing. Although the expanse is beautiful, maybe its time for you to go small also? Its hard to accept what nature hands out at times. When we learn the lesson of resiliancy – like that of your buffalo – we can keep going. Thinking good thoughts for you and your ranch.
Dan, The extreme drought has affected so many of my friends and family that make their living off the bounty of the land. All the advice this old rock picker can give you is “hang in there – rain and renewal of nature will occur in our makers time. I am going to come out to the ranch in early October to visit Erney and you folks – I have a strong itch to hunt rocks!
Jim, “The rugged rock picker of the plains”
I’m glad you folks decided to go ahead and give the tour. I grew up on a farm and my family still farms; there were years when things looked pretty grim, and others when things were lush. Years of too much rain, and years like this, of too little rain. This is the reality of farming. You have to make do with whatever the weather brings. You are honestly doing the best you can do, by the land, the animals and the people. Be proud of that and show it off.
Bravo !!! So glad you gave the tour…. We, too have been suffering in rural Arkansas and in my home state of Texas. Keep plugging along. As you said it is ecological change and people need to see this. Love your metaphor about your wife and the flu. Thick and thin, good or bad, its about commitment and knowing that in your heart of hearts. All the best.
Roxanna Rushing
Branch, Arkansas
Your humanity leaves me with tears in my eyes. Your writing is compelling and delicious. I so look forward to hearing about your land and your love.
Many thanks from a friend in Seattle.
Margaret
I think Margaret Birdsall summed it up briefly and perfectly…
Mike
Thank you for your work and sharing.
To get the bounty of the land sometimes the land and spirits test you. There are countless tales of how beings have had to prove their worthiness. You and your project, sir, seem to be in the middle of being tested for tenacity, faith and loyalty, all of which are very important to the spirits of the land. The same spirits that will bring you bountiful years, as well as more tests. I was always taught that the greater the test, the greater the reward. Keep strong and remain fortified, the land needs you to be.