Ranch Stories - The Idaho Rancher's Wife

Reservations and Runaway Cows

February 18, 2026 by Allison Leave a Comment

Ranch romance doesn’t always look like candlelight.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

We had Valentine’s plans…

But the cows broke through!

Boots polished, hair in place,

Dressed up for our night,

Reservations waiting

Under the city lights.

But then we saw them—

Or maybe we didn’t,

A herd of wild backsides

Slipping out of sight.

Nothing says romance

Like a runaway cow chase,

Down the winding highway,

Our hearts racing to match the pace.

Flying out of the pickup

Before it came to a stop,

I’m fairly certain

The Rancher thought I was hot.

Finally to dinner,

Out on the town,

With a hint of manure

Dusting my cowgirl gown.

Maybe this is romance,

Rough, wild, and true—

A night just for us,

Until the cows break through.

It was cloudy and starting to get dark—no surprise we were running a little later than we’d hoped for our Valentine’s night. It didn’t take long to see the cows had broken through the fence… again. And for no real reason except that they wanted more than what they already had, as cows often do.

With a curse and a grumble under his breath, The Rancher sped down the road to get around them. It didn’t take much to shift gears and get them moving the opposite direction, but with cows spilling off the road into the borrow pit, I realized I needed to hop out and chase on foot. Of course my fancy town booties were NOT the footwear of choice, but there was little to do except go regardless of tweaked ankles or scuffs.

It wasn’t long before others realized the problem and joined in, everyone feeling the frustration of a herd that never quite stays settled. Of course they wouldn’t all simply go back in the field. A large handful busted through more fences, complicating an already irksome evening. Running through tall brush and scooting through barbed wire, I prayed the nice clothes I rarely get to dress up in wouldn’t fall victim to the circumstances.

Some on foot, some on four-wheelers and motorbikes, we finally funneled the cattle through brush to find the gates and get them back where they belonged. But the truth was, if we left them there, they were just going to get out again. Not because of the hole they had just made—we had panels and wire ready to patch it—but because once they learned they could break through, they knew they could do it again.

So we adjusted the plan.

Instead of simply fixing the fence, we decided to relocate them to the corral—a sturdy metal pen far less likely to give to their unrelenting pressure. The Rancher and I headed to set gates and turn the herd while the others bright then from the pasture, not just fixing the problem for the night but hopefully creating a more long-term solution.

Once the cows were finally penned, we took a breath and admitted it could have been much worse. They got out, yes—but we caught it within minutes. We had plans, but dinner could be pushed back. It could have been a disaster.

The frustration was real.

The chaos was real.

And yet somehow, the night didn’t fall apart.

What makes these moments memorable isn’t just the humor or the absurdity—it’s how we show up for each other when it’s not easy. When things go sideways. When plans are interrupted. When the evening could easily end in frustration.

We made the best of what we had. The night was already simple—no flowers, no chocolates, no candles. Just a tired rancher trying to say “I love you,” and a ranch wife grateful for any moment together, even if the promise of no gates to open fell a little short.

Boots scuffed. Jeans dusted with sage. Hearts racing from the chase instead of the date—we handled the mess, laughed at the chaos, and eventually made it to dinner.

That’s partnership.

That’s love.

It shows up in the smell of sagebrush, in the quiet evening air, in the exhaustion, and in the decision to keep going together. We work side by side when it’s fun—but more importantly, when it’s hard.

Romance isn’t always candlelight or perfectly executed plans. Sometimes it’s teamwork in town clothes. Sometimes it’s laughter after chaos. Sometimes it’s knowing that when plans go sideways and problems appear out of nowhere, you both show up anyway.

And that kind of love?

It lasts any time of year.

More Than One Right Way

February 10, 2026 by Allison Leave a Comment

Lessons in humility, experience, and learning to mind our own operations.

I never thought I would say this, but I believe I’ve found a downside to teaching our five-year-old the ins and outs of ranching. With all his newfound knowledge, my little rancher is suddenly convinced he knows everything there is to know — and he’s more than happy to tell you all about it.

It’s adorable when he narrates his toy setup in his bedroom. It’s even endearing watching him work alongside his dad, small as he is, doing his best to keep up. But the cuteness wears thin when he’s ready to explain to everyone else how it should be done.

Living out in ranch country means we spend plenty of miles on the road, often passing someone else’s operation. And almost without fail, a commentary begins from the back seat.

“That pivot shouldn’t be off.”

“Why are those cows still there?”

I have to suppress a smile at the certainty behind such strong opinions coming from such a small person. But at the same time, it’s hard not to notice how familiar it sounds. Apparently, confidence comes early — experience follows later.

And unfortunately, this isn’t unique to my five-year-old.

It seems far too easy to jump to conclusions about how someone else runs their operation — when they irrigate, how they feed, when they move cattle, or why something looks different than we expect. Somewhere along the way, observation turns into judgment, even when we don’t have the full picture.

They say there’s more than one way to skin a cat. I’m here to say there’s more than one way to ranch.

Take haying, for example. Round bales versus square bales — one must be better than the other, right? Except both serve a purpose. Round bales can be put up sooner with a little more moisture, and net wrap protects them well in the stack. Square bales, on the other hand, shine when it comes to hauling and efficiency. One isn’t right and the other wrong. It depends on the operation.

Branding season brings its own debates. Calf tables versus roping and dragging. For us, range brandings and skilled cowboys make roping the clear choice. But for operations with fewer hands or closer corrals, a calf table might be exactly what makes sense. Different circumstances call for different tools.

Even moving cows can stir strong opinions — horses versus four-wheelers. There are cows to move either way, and as long as they get moved, the job is getting done. Though if I’m honest, if there’s a chance to saddle a horse instead of turning a key, I’ll take it every time.

Calving systems, feeding programs, grazing rotations — every ranch is a balance of land, livestock, labor, and goals. What works beautifully for one may be completely impractical for another.

The trouble comes when we forget that.

When it’s time to make decisions for an operation, there are a few things that matter more than outside opinion. First, knowing your goals — what you’re actually trying to accomplish. Second, knowing what your operation has to offer — the land, the resources, the skills, and the help available. Systems that align with both will always make the most sense.

From there, you can try new things. Not because your neighbor is doing them. Not because they’re trendy. But because they might help you do your job better.

And sometimes, they won’t.

That’s part of it too.

The older I get, the more I realize that experience has a way of softening certainty. Confidence earned through repetition looks different than confidence born from assumption. One listens more. One asks better questions.

My five-year-old will figure that out in time.

Until then, I’ll keep listening to his opinions from the back seat, smiling to myself, and reminding us both that ranching — like most things worth doing — isn’t about finding the one right way.

It’s about finding your way, being open to learning, and leaving room for the possibility that someone else might be doing it differently — and doing it just fine.

The Price of Learning on a Ranch

February 4, 2026 by Allison Leave a Comment

How a broken swather, a six-year-old on the tractor, plus a few other hard lessons taught me exactly how knowledge is earned- usually the hard way.

The little Montana town I grew up in was dotted with small family operations. Nearly every outfit welcomed extra help during the summer months while school was out, and I was lucky enough to have neighbors just down the road who took me on. I helped with everything from moving early-morning wheel lines and hand lines to pushing cows, spraying weeds, and putting up hay.

I was young and inexperienced, but willing to work hard and learn. There were plenty of growing pains — jobs I didn’t understand yet, equipment I hadn’t mastered — but at the end of the day, going home tired, dirty, and satisfied made the hard moments worth it.

With acres of hay to put up, I spent my fair share of time in the swather. My favorite was an old red International that looked rough but wouldn’t quit for anything. It did have one flaw: it wouldn’t stay cool. I remember my boss drilling it into me — keep an eye on the temperature gauge, know when to shut it down, and don’t push it past its limits.

Summer after summer, I ran that swather without incident. I stopped strategically to let it cool while moving irrigation lines, taking a quick break, or heading in for lunch. By my final summer, I was confident I had it figured out. Confident enough that I’d quietly crowned myself the queen of the hay crew.

Leaving for college was exciting, but daunting. I clung to every last moment I could spend in the fields. On my final night of work, I put off heading home, lingering in the comfort of that familiar old swather — until it sputtered, stalled, and died completely. It wouldn’t move. It wouldn’t start. Stuck in the middle of the field, I called my boss for help.

It took him only a moment to diagnose the problem. I had overheated the engine, and it had seized up. As the reality set in, I felt awful — for the cost of parts, labor, lost time, and delayed haying. Weeks later, I learned the parts were so expensive and hard to find that the swather was never fixed. The following year, they replaced it entirely.

Maybe, in the end, I did them a favor by forcing an upgrade. But I never forgot the lesson: pay attention to what you’re responsible for, and don’t let overconfidence lead the way. I would have given anything to do it again the right way. Since that wasn’t possible, all that was left was to learn — and never repeat it.

That lesson has followed me into motherhood.

Over the past few weeks, our six-year-old has been desperate for his turn to help bunch bales. He’s watched his older siblings take their place on the open-cab tractor, convinced that he, too, was big enough. Despite being told he was still too young, he didn’t give up. Eventually, his dad decided the best way for him to understand what it took was to let him try.

They headed out together. Dad explained the knobs and levers, walked him through the simple but important instructions, and then stepped back. Slowly, they moved bales into place for the trailer. The work wasn’t perfect — some bales dragged, some were crooked, and the throttle took a while to finesse. But at the end of the day, there was a tired, dusty, proud little boy climbing off the tractor. All it took was the chance to learn.

Learning looks different at every age.

Our oldest has made huge strides in his cowboying. This year, we saw his best roping yet — smooth runs, confident throws, calf after calf caught clean. Midway through branding season, during a big desert branding, it felt like he couldn’t miss. His pride was earned.

A few weeks later, cleaning up the last calves at the ranch, it was a different story. Easy shots were missed. Slack got tangled. At one point, he roped a cow while aiming for the calf beside her. The hit to his teenage ego was sharp — and necessary. It forced him to slow down, reassess, and figure out what had gone wrong. Paying with pride is painful, but sometimes it’s the most effective teacher.

He learned the same way his grandpa did.

My dad still tells stories from his early farming days, when he was certain he had everything figured out. One season, he dug irrigation furrows exactly as he thought they should be — until he turned the water on and realized water doesn’t flow uphill. Only the ends of the rows needed fixing, but they had to be redone by hand. His dad handed him a shovel and walked away. He never made that mistake again.

The fear of making mistakes can keep us from trying at all. It would be far easier for the cowboys on our operation to do everything themselves — less time, fewer breakdowns, no bent nails or bruised egos. But teaching the next generation how to work, how to pay attention, and how to recover when things go wrong is worth the cost.

On a ranch, learning is rarely free. We pay with time, energy, pride, or pocketbook. But the lessons last longer than the mistakes.

And we can only hope they’re less expensive than a new swather.

Doing Scary Things- Ranch Wife Style

February 18, 2025 by admin

The comfort zone- a place of ease, perceived control, and little stress. Let’s be honest, we all want to operate inside our comfort zone where we can keep anxiety at bay, feel confident, and know what we are doing. We fear failure so we ensure success by only doing those things we have already done. But experience teaches that the most growth and learning happens when we step outside that comfort zone. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do something everyday that scares you. These small things that make us uncomfortable help us build courage to do the work we do.”

Life on the ranch tends to give us all plenty of moments outside our comfort zone that we can either embrace and learn through or shy away from and stay stagnant. I’ll admit that embracing those moments feels especially hard when my failures are out on display for so many others to see. It’s ok for my growing children to learn from failure, but as a grown adult, I too often feel like I should just know, well… everything.

Just last week I took the opportunity to do something new and outside my comfort zone. For some, this might seem like a simple daily chore but for me, it was a whole new experience- feeding cows solo. Now I go out and help feed often, sometimes daily. I know the routine, what to feed, how much, but I’ve always been the crew that opens the gates, cuts the net wrap off and such.

What I haven’t ever done is be the guy in the tractor behind the wheel. If we had to choose between my very capable husband and myself in the seat, we choose him because we want to get the job done and move on. And, really, why should I do it when he is there?

Eventually the day rolled around when all of the usual feeding crew were gone. The roping that was supposed to get done with plenty of time for the ranchers to get home and feed, went long, lending to one of two possibilities. Either they would have to feed late after getting home or I could jump in and try to do it myself. I pulled on my big girl coveralls and jumped in the tractor seat, sure that I could feed three bales of hay without disaster striking.

There were a few things I knew I had on my side as I set out- first I had the basics of tractor mechanics down so that I could drive faster than at a snail pace and move the loader in all the necessary directions. Second, if I had questions, FaceTime put me just one phone call away from help. And third, cows don’t care how pretty the feeding is, they just want the hay out.

Getting to the stackyard I found the right hay, and through a little trial and error, managed to get a bale on the forks and grab one with the three point bale squeeze on the back. It wasn’t as smooth and easy as when the guys do it, but I was doing it. I headed up the hill to the hungry heifers, planning in my mind how I was going to go about feeding. I would set the first bale down, cut the wrap off, tip it over, send it rolling down the hill and that would keep the cows out of the way while I put the other two in bale feeders around the pasture. Easy enough.

Everything started off according to plan until it was time to send that bale rolling down the hill. What seemed like a simple little push with the forks was hardly so and because it was taking longer than usual, the cows were now starting to get in the way. To complicate things even more, it was suddenly dark outside.

I was definitely outside my comfort zone, but also so in the thick of what I was doing that there was no quitting.

Scooping up the bale I had intended to roll down the hill, I put it in the first feeder and opted to try again with the second bale, learning from my earlier mistakes. It took a little trial and error but bale number two was finally rolled out and the cows were content to leave me alone while I fed the last bale.

Heading to the feeder, I saw that it was on a hill and while I might be in a tractor, I had better be smart about how I went about getting there. Between the snow and mud, the hill was slick and in that moment, a distinct memory of a teenage girl failing to turn a tractor up a muddy hill came rushing back to me.

Putting the tractor in the low, snail pace gear, I carefully headed down the hill, making sure I had a clear plan out of there after dropping my load. All seemed well as I made my way to the feeder until I stopped the tractor to pull off the net wrap and noticed the tractor continued to slide. I quickly turned the wheels and that was enough to keep it still. I knew I could dump the bale but I wasn’t sure how I would get out of my predicament once I straightened out again.

Four wheel drive. That was the solution. I really should have thought of that before heading down the slippery hill but at least I was thinking of it now. The only problem was that of the millions of buttons, levers and switches, I had no idea which to toggle. And I was sure that the wrong one would probably make the whole tractor implode.

Mustering the courage to make that phone call that admitted a bit of failure, I called my husband and asked for help. Without laughing at my mistakes or making me feel even more dumb than I already felt, my rancher easily helped me get out of my sticky situation. I dropped the last bale, skirted around the feeder, and headed for home quite proud of what I had finally accomplished that night.

For some, this was a simple chore, something they could probably do with their eyes closed, although I don’t recommend it. They made it seem easy but as I went through the very steps they did, it seemed so complicated and almost dauntin. I hope you chuckle about this little ranch wife willing to help even when the job is outside her comfort zone. But more importantly I hope you learn a few lessons from her.

Learn that you can accomplish far more than you think you can. You just have to try. New things are hard and scary- they are supposed to be! But, trying, jumping in with both feet is the only way to grow. Learn that people are here to help you. Asking for help isn’t admitting failure, even though it feels like it. Learn that the only real confidence in life comes from conquering those moments of fear, big or small. I might not be on the “A team” when it comes to the feeding crew, but if the job needs doing, I know I can do it. Next time, I just might have to start a little earlier and find the four wheel drive a little sooner.

When You Give a Ranchkid a Pocket Knife

January 30, 2024 by Allison

Nothing is safe at our house right now. We have three little boys, ok one is a teenager and not quite so little, that have begged to have their own pocket knives like dad. Between babysitting, Christmas and birthdays, somehow they all have their own shiny multi-tool and belt toting pouch to keep them in and I’m just not so sure how we got to this point. The teenager, yes, I’m on board with outfitting him with some tools that will help him be more useful. But the recently turned five year old… we must be crazy. Before anyone falls into the state we are in, let me share a few little nuggets that we have learned when you give a ranchkid a pocket knife.

Learn From Me…

First, like I said earlier, nothing is safe. It seems that everything is begging them to try that little blade out. From just random pieces of paper to the box of your most recent packages to the first stick they see, they just have to start slicing it all up. And somehow they don’t see the trail of destruction they leave behind as annihilated boxes, paper shreds and whittling shavings mark their owner’s territory. I don’t know if it is some sort of premonition or warning but my greatest fear is finding one of my knife-toting little boys carving his name into the wooden baseboards or window trim that is just his height and so inviting.

Next, if they insist on wearing their new multi-tool in the very cool new pouch on their belt, make sure that belt is cinched up as tight as possible, for two reasons. Between the belt and the tool, those pants are going to weigh ten times as much as usual and are highly likely to sag straight off their ranchkid rears. And secondly, if that belt buckle isn’t on good and tight, it isn’t the pants that will bounce off, it will be that new little tool filled pouch.

Cheapest is best in this scenario…

Which leads me to my next lesson- if you are going to buy a forgetful, carefree, inattentive, neglectful five year old a pocket knife, make it a cheap one. It won’t be long before he sets it down somewhere or it slips out of a pocket or falls off of his belt. The loss will be much less painful for you if you haven’t put in a large investment. He will still be devastated, but at least you are somewhat prepared.

The minute you find your ranchkid digging up rocks or cutting in the dirt (or cutting the dirt…), you will be grateful you didn’t spend even an extra nickel on their shiny new knife. If they manage to not lose it right away, that fun new tool will take a beating, literally, because even though there isn’t a hammer tucked up inside there next to the can opener, it will be used like one. Trust this all too experienced mama…

Now, I still can’t decide if it was better to buy the multi-tool or if we should have just stuck with a simple, plain-Jane pocket knife. With the knife, I’m sure more things would have fallen victim to its blade, something we don’t need to tempt these already spellbound, curious little boys to. But it seems that giving them a knife and pliers and screwdrivers and the like just leaves a bigger swath of destruction. Sister’s dollhouse has screws, let’s take ‘em out with my new screwdriver! Crackers for snack time, let’s see how many I can crunch with the pliers! How many of these soup cans can we poke holes in with the can opener?! See what I mean?

After a day or two, your friends and neighbors might question if your kids have been wrestling the barn cats because I can almost guarantee that all that fun with their new knife will lead to scratches up and down their arms. No matter how many times you teach kids the boy scout knife safety rules, they will still manage to cut themselves. Here’s my advice- buy a large package of bandaids when you succumb to your insanity and buy a ranchkid a pocket knife.

Finally, expect your work to take a little bit longer now that you have equipped your little helpers with their own tools. There is no twine you can cut, screws to pull out or fences to be fixed without them jumping in to help you work. And really, that isn’t a bad thing after all. Oscar Wilde said, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” and it is in that moment of imitation that every ranch dad swells with pride as he sees his kids want to be like him.

We just might be mad for handing over wrecking gear to a kid that is sure to destroy them and everything is their path. But for the chance to help them work and be just like dad, it is worth the little bit of crazy that we will have to endure. There will be a day when a tool in their hand will be second nature and they will be able to build or fix anything. And it will all have started with that long lost little pouch and multi-tool you were sure they were too small to have.

Just Bad Luck Days on the Ranch

June 25, 2023 by admin

“If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all!” There might not be a truer phrase for a rancher to admit to than that. Some days it feels like all the stars have to align for the work to get done without any hitches, hiccups, or holdups. Whether it is Mother Nature the parts man or ornery old boss cow, someone, somewhere is cooking up a disaster to derail even the best laid plans. You can always count on the fact that in the middle of the cattle work, farm work, machinery fixing, fence fixing or anything else on the never end to-do list, something, without fail, will go wrong. And while I don’t have any research data to back me up, I’m pretty sure that the probability and the size of such a disaster goes up exponentially when its a high stakes situation, and goes up even more so when there is zero time for a breakdown and a do-over.

Okay, yes that may be an overdramatization, but you have to admit that there are days when things, not only don’t go right, but seem to go especially bad. It’s those sort of days you might have to concede the victory to fate, turn in early so nothing else can go wrong and laugh at the day to keep from crying. Looking back, we have had our fair share of bad luck days, some we can laugh at now… some that we still need a little more time.

This last winter felt like one stroke of bad luck after another. I mean, to begin with, it had to be bad luck that after years of drought and praying for moisture, it all comes pouring down in one, unending winter. Of course, we never look a gift horse in the mouth, but if I could have been in charge of the timing of said moisture, it certainly wouldn’t have come in a near record breaking winter fashion.

In a season where we really needed all the things to go right, I swear everything would go wrong, especially on the days when we were far from home and help. We put one fire out after another (not literally fires, but that surely would have warmed things up while we were freezing our fingers off). If it wasn’t the tractor door shattering (on a rented tractor, no less) to keep the work from being done, it was the blown hydraulic hose on the back. If it wasn’t the flat tire on the backhoe that kept us from feeding, it was the massive sinkhole that swallowed the newly fixed tractor. Not only did the gator break down but the snowmobile wouldn’t start either. You’ve heard of the hand Midas that turns everything that it touched to gold? We had the exact opposite. We touched it and it died, quit, or broke.

Sometimes it isn’t the hand that is cursed, it’s just the machine that refuses to stay in running condition. Our problem child of a pivot is simply dubbed “the old pivot” although it might be more accurate to call it the-leaky-run-down-dilapidated-old-pivot. As soon as one hole is plugged or fixed, a new pinhole starts gushing. Aside from its leaky bits, there are computer problems and electrical problems. You might say that running an old pivot just signs you up for breakdowns, but I think this pivot runs at a higher level of breakdowns. If we have any luck this year, it’s getting that old thing replaced… hope I didn’t just jinx it!

We might just make our own bad luck for the number of times we say things like “we are all caught up with the shop work” or “all the cows are settled.” It’s like those darn cows know when we breathe a sigh of relief and work to stir things up. If I had a dollar for everytime we think the cows are settled and then get a phone call that says the cows are out, we could pay someone else to keep them in. They are masters at finding the down wires, gates left open or just barging their way through. And with the sort of luck we run, we get those cows back in but can’t find the hole they are crawling through, so they just keep getting out.

Mother Nature especially likes to throw a wrench in our carefully planned out days. Despite knowing the old adage that you bale hay while the sun shines, it always seems we get into the wrong project for the weather. We meticulously check the forecast, make plans to best fit the conditions of the day, only to find the weatherman was wrong once again. It’s spraying weeds or cutting hay because it’s sunny for days on end to only have thunderstorms suddenly come in, day after day. Or planting fields just before the predicted storms never roll through. We move cows or plan to brand, sure it’s supposed to be a nice, sunny day, only to be caught in Idaho’s blustery wind, something we should learn to count on anyway.

Oh the luck of a rancher. It seems the ball never bounces our way. But truth be told, we are far luckier than we deserve with the great industry we have to be a part of. We have the great fortune of working the land, having the satisfaction of working as a family, and doing a work we love. There may be moments, some days more than others, that it feels like we have nothing but bad luck. But I will take these bad luck days on the ranch over any other day. Who needs luck when we live a life so blessed.

Christmas Wishes On the Ranch

December 13, 2022 by Allison

Top of the holiday traditions for excited girls and boys is making that all important Christmas wish list. Whether it’s mailed off to the North Pole, whispered to Santa in person or just shared with mom and dad, every excited child makes such a list. I’ve never seen a list with anything like “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth!” or “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas” but my ranch kids write practically the same list with just a few variations year to year, even though Santa and I do a darn good job checking things off their list each Christmas

Their Christmas lists always include tractors, cows, corral setups, trucks and other fun ranch life replicas and since you can never have enough tractors or cows, they find their way on the list again and again. All of those tractors and cows just make for more possibilities, ideas or storylines to play out. Whatever it is that they come up with that day, there is one thing for sure,…

It’s usually pretty easy to know what sort of stuff dad is doing out on the ranch because from the sand pile to the living room, the kids are recreating the same set up with their miniature versions. When it’s haying season, they have their own hay to bale and stack. When it’s branding season they gather in their little herds to put brands on all the new calves. I wish I could remember all of their different storylines over the years, but there are some that standout that I will never forget.

Throughout the summer months we have a herd of heifers we haul around to various roping and sorting events. After seeing dad take his cattle on the road, my little ranchers often do the same. They load up their toy bull wagon to their freshly erected rodeo arena for a day’s worth of roping, riding and rodeo fun. Their setup includes the littlest details like the watering trough, the various sorting pens and even seats for their spectators. To truly capture complete reproduction of such a day, they even borrowed a few Barbie kitchen snacks and toys because no day at the arena is complete without mom packing a cooler of snacks and a bag of toys.

During the fall months of weaning, preg checking and prepping to sell each year’s set of calves, we spend a lot of time at the squeeze chute. In fact, we have coined our own term such work- squeeze chuting. At the end of a long day squeeze-chuting with dad, the littles come in and squeeze chute their own cows. They aren’t even afraid to get in there and do the preg checking, just like dad does.

Now replicating some of those days at the squeeze can be a little dicey. Like when we pretend to squeeze chute the day we semen test the bulls. I vividly remember sitting at the counter as my son set up his alley and chute and then proceeded to line up the bulls. He was very specific to not include any cows or steers, just the bulls. After putting a few bulls through the chute he looked at me with his curious eyes and his wheels turning, trying to figure out just what we are doing when we bring the bulls through the chute. Let’s just say that day’s play was a great conversation starter for the birds and the bees sort of talk.

Even the simple day to day chores make for fun memories as the kids work to haul hay to the corrals to feed, whether it’s in the mud or the rain or the snow. There is always something new they add like the horses sneaking out as the tractor came in, putting mineral in the bunks or checking the water. I’ve even heard a few of their dad’s favorite phrases about those darn cows and pray they don’t repeat EVERYTHING dad says.

Make believe ranching isn’t a new ranch kid past time. Generations share some of the same stories with their own little spin on them. My mom used to talk about what a gamble it was to walk through the living room minefield of invisible cow pies. She was never sure where to step but very sure it would always land right in the poop and she would be told about it. My husband remembers not letting anyone in grandma’s family room as he was midharvest. No one was going to mess up that cutting!

It’s always exciting to see just what toys end up under the Christmas tree, but I’m pretty confident that there will be some sort of ranch life replica under there. And not long after the wrapping paper is gone, the creativity will take over and a new ranch will come to life. It will have some new fun and flare with the new toys but it will always point back to the life we live on the ranch, because truth be told, nothing is better than the real, deal every day life on the ranch.

The Rancher’s Wife Bloopers

February 25, 2021 by Allison

If there was a reel for this ranch wife’s time spent on the ranch, there would 100%, hands down, for sure be a bloopers cut at the end. One that was dedicated to all of the blonde moments, huh-ohs and flops that add a little excitement to our ranch life. Now don’t worry, the ranch is still standing, our marriage is still solid and nothing that had to be undone, couldn’t be done. Truth be told, once I moved passed the shame of my failures, some of them were actually pretty humorand added a little humor that we can use a bit more of.

Not a Chicken-Herder

I’ve said it before and will likely say it again and again, but I don’t like chickens. Like, really don’t like chickens. I don’t do chickens. And even less so with the herd (flock?) of chickens that we have now. These chickens apparently don’t have a personal bubble and aren’t afraid of anything because they like to get all up in my business. Anymore I don’t gather eggs or check chickens without someone to protect me, like my kids.

Super impressed with my mothering, right?

I feel like I have been plenty patient with these hens wanting to peck my hands and toes and try to fly up in my face but when they had me cornered in the coop I decided this was no longer a one mom job. Someone walking past might have thought the scared screeches and squawks were coming from the chickens, not the other way around. These days I brave the chickens with my courageous four year old taking the lead, boldly shooing away the chickens as we walk across the coop to the nesting boxes. Then I hoist him up to gather the eggs as fast as he can while I keep watch. Every time I wonder if this is the day I will have to call retreat and leave the eggs in order get out of there in one piece.

I know. Its ridiculous. They are just chickens and it only takes a few minutes to gather those eggs. I should totally be up to the task but when it comes to the chickens I have a faint heart and fall short.

Backing up is Just Like Going Forward, Just in Reverse.

The science of backing up a horse trailer is beyond brain surgery and rocket science. Ok, not really, but when it comes to this rancher’s wife there is a lot of room for improvement. The Rancher just laughs at my deficiency and reminds me over and over the backing up is just like going forward, but in reverse.

Genius.

I understand the principles of it but applying it can be a little challenging. If I’m lined up with a straight shot and all tires are straight and I’m praying really hard I can usually pull it off. Or if someone is there to tell me which way to go and shake their head when I turned the wheel the wrong way I can manage to get backed in where we need. (Why someone would let me back up instead of kicking me out of the driver’s seat kinda blows my mind…) But if I’m on my own it can be somewhat problematic.

Like the day we decided to move a group of heifers on our way home. The Rancher hopped on his horse and asked us to drive the truck and trailer around to open the gate. Sure. Easy. I am a professional gate opener. So we get there, open the gate and wait. Unfortunately the heifers weren’t having anything to do with the truck and trailer there by the gate and wouldn’t go through. That meant I had to roll up my sleeves and back ‘er up. I was doing so good, backing up with the trailer heading where I wanted it and then I turned too much this way and that and before I knew and I was taking up the whole road. Traffic isn’t all the busy down our road so I wasn’t too worried but one glance up and down the road proved me wrong and I couldn’t just wait for The Rancher to bail me out as he has done more times than I would like to admit.

Don’t worry. Common sense prevailed and I just pulled ahead enough to be out of the way of traffic and the heifers and all ended well. Something I probably should have done to start with. But my rancher’s wife ego took a serious blow. I mean what kind of ranch raised cattlewomen has such a handicap?

From Hero to Zero

Its not very often that The Rancher calls me to save the day to help him out of a pickle and I relish the chance to be the hero. More often than I would like, there are those days that my triumphant moment turns to a flop.

One of these days stands out in my mind so distinctly because I quickly turned from rescuer to rescuee in a hurry. It was a cold January morning, The Rancher was out feeding cows and was pushing to get done quickly. The ground was covered in snow and the intense wind had blown drifts in some places and bare ground in others. The Rancher had thought he would be safe to drive through some snow but realized too late that he had just sunk the truck into a well disguised drift. He gave a good effort to get out to find that he was too stuck to get out alone.

With no one else around to help, The Rancher called me to bring our truck down to see we could get him moving again. I come charging in to save the day, beaming with pride that he would call me to help (pretending that it was do more to my skill than to his desperation). I pulled up to him to get my set of directions- pull around in front so we can yank the truck out. I put the truck in gear and start to go around where I was so sure The Rancher had told me to go. Seconds later I realized that was NOT the way I should have gone and sunk my truck up to its axels in snow.

What a rescue…

I’m sure The Rancher was kind and patient and understanding at my less than helpful efforts. Maybe not, but we can’t help but be sympathetic to his situation of having not one, but two trucks to pull out when we were already running behind…

With true stick-to-it determination, The Rancher managed to first dig his own truck out, and then pull mine out. He has been brave enough to call for help again, but jumps in the drivers seat before things go from bad to worse.

Helping in the Wrong Direction

While I love every opportunity to jump in and help, I realize that there is some amount of time that I am going to need to get caught up to whatever the guys are working on. Sometimes it takes just a second and I’m ready to roll. Then there are those days that I am rolling in the opposite direction.

Literally.

On the hot summer evenings, I think that moving wheel lines is a great way to end the day. We load the kids up, enjoy riding across the field and cooling off in the sprinklers. Its refreshing, even fun! Having my own pipe-moving-experience I have no problem jumping in to help. I consider it one of the perks of marrying me, that The Rancher got a wife willing to do a little irrigation.

On occasion, he just might think otherwise.

After a few irrigating oopses, there are always two things The Rancher is sure to tell me before I head off to move any lines on my own. First which direction the wheel line is moving and second, how many turns I need to go. Even as I’m writing this I’m second guessing how many we should do. To be fair to me, it can be hard to notice which direction you are moving across the field. Sure you may go the same direction year after year and it isn’t that difficult to see what is wet versus dry. But when the alfalfa is tall, the kids are distracting and you are just trying to get the work done, you just start moving and its entirely possible you are rolling in the wrong direction.

Maybe this sort of sub par help is why we have gotten rid of most of our wheel lines for pivots. Hhmmm…

I hate to admit that some of my out on the ranch skills have gotten a little rusty. Don’t get me wrong, I am helpful, more often than not. But in all honesty, I have my days that I just can’t win. Part of my charm has to be helping the rest of the crew look good. I’m sure that if all of my time and energy was dedicated to just the ranch, I would sail along, no problem, day after day. But its not and so I will take the ranch wife flops and laughs along the way. They always say, “laughter is the best medicine.”

Photos by the great Kendra Bird at kendrabirdphotography.com

The Rancher’s Rules of Feeding

March 18, 2019 by Allison

Over the years of getting out and feeding cows in the winter, I have come to learn that The Rancher has some particular ways of feeding hay. Usually this guy is super easy going and just flows with what is happening around him, but once in a while there things that HAVE to be done a certain way- his way. I will admit, his “Rules of Feeding” are good. It doesn’t take long to see the common sense in his thinking (which has to be one of his strongest traits/skills…) and that following his rules will make feeding go a little smoother and faster.

Here are the rules…

The first rule The Rancher follows is actually well before feeding time, during the haying season. You see, making a bale just right is all the difference in having it roll out nice and easy or it falling apart in one clump or not coming apart at all. When you have several bales of hay to roll out each day, those extra minutes it takes to get the bale to unroll can sure add up. The best way to ensure this is to make sure that the hay is baled at just the right time, with just the right amount of moisture.

Rules two (and a half… or we could say three… Ya, they are good enough to be their own rules.) The Rancher tries to keep a stack of hay close to the different fields we feed in. Rather than making one stack of hay in the summer while we are putting up hay, he will haul the hay straight to the winter feed yards to make it ready to go. Of course it is hard to estimate exactly how many bales we will need each year and most of the time we will have to haul more hay down. So to keep from having too many extra trips, The Rancher has another simple feeding rule he lives by. He loads up with bales every morning he goes to feed. And not just one extra, but all the extras he can carry. If the feed truck is going down, so is a bunch of hay. Why not? It saves work down the road, for sure!

Next, when day one comes to start putting the feed down, don’t start right inside the gate. The Rancher grumbles every day he has a rough drive over bumpy, hard, and frozen cow pies. To avoid this he starts feeding the cows as far away from the gate as possible and then works his way to the gate, day by day. Yes, there will be some poop scattered all around the field, but the majority of it will be where the feed is because that is where the cows are spending all their time eating. And pooping. And hopefully, not where he is going to be driving.

See… they make sense. So simple, yet so brilliant.

This next rule The Rancher follows I think is pretty clever and pretty darn observant. On our net wrap, there is a little yellow strip that goes down only one side of the bale. If he picks up the bale with the strip on the left, the bale unrolls just right. Every. Time. mostly… Ya know, like toilet paper.

If you pick up the bale with the strip on the right, you have to roll out the bale driving backwards. The Rancher handles it just fine, but the combination of driving backwards and feeding hay all at the same time just doesn’t work out too good for some of the rest of us. If The Rancher can manage it, he will even stack and line up the bales with that yellow strip all on the same side. So organized. So efficient. So beautiful.

The Rancher has a handful of other tips more than rules when it comes to feeding. Tips like how you should always have a sharp knife ready to go and to first bust off the snow and ice off the bale as best you can. Of course the best tip he lives by is to always bring a buddy along to open the gates and cut off the net wrap so you can stay in the nice warm feed truck!

Try out The Rancher’s “Rules of Feeding”. I would bet they will help you out too! What are your rules of feeding?

The Cattle Raised the Family While the Family Raised the Cattle

February 20, 2019 by Allison

Every once in a while I have the chance to do a little freelance writing. While I love these opportunities, I always get a little nervous because I’m writing for someone else… and what if what I write isn’t good?! Lucky for me, my subject this time was my own family- the Eliason’s. The February issue of the Line Rider, the magazine put out by the Idaho Cattle Association, was their Cow-Calf feature and they wanted our operation to be their cover story.

Situated in the Curlew Grasslands of southeastern Idaho sits the Eliason Livestock ranch, a ranch that through the generations has developed a high quality operation of land and cattle. Over the years, each generation has worked to not only maintain what has come before them, but to make their own improvements to the business. Through the work that they have done, the hardships they have encountered, and the advancements they have achieved, they have found success. And while the success on the ranch has been their ultimate goal, the success in their families- raising up the next generation- has been their greatest accomplishment. Fortunately, these successes came hand in hand- while the family raised the cattle, the cattle helped raise the family.

The Eliason ranch found its start in the early 1890s when August Eliason found an opportunity to make his own start. After leaving his home at 14, August found work with the Bar M Ranch, eventually becoming a herd foreman, running thousands of cattle along the railroad through Northern Utah and Southern Idaho. Poor grazing practices and a devastating winter compelled the owner, a railroad baron, to abandon what little cattle had survived. August and others that had worked for the Bar M Ranch were able to lay claim to the abandoned cattle and use them to make a start of their own. August new the land well after working over it for so many years and developed a similar operation of trailing the cows north during the spring and summer months to Holbrook, Idaho and back to Locomotive Springs in Utah for the winter. Within a short time August was able to homestead a few acres in Stone, Idaho and establish a headquarters for his ranch.

It was a lot of work, but August’s cattle operation began to prosper. His success can be contributed to several factors. First, the land, if managed well, provided a hearty and healthy place to raise cattle. The summers in Idaho had good feed and fair weather and the winters in Utah were more mild and ideal for calving. Second, running his cattle on the open range meant that they grazed with cattle of other ranches. This enabled the ranchers to pool their resources, time and energy to collectively care for their cattle. Third, August had a drive and a desire to be successful. It pushed him to work hard, long hours, to adapt and find new ways to go about the work, and to instill a passion for the work in his sons.

At 45 years old August fell ill and passed away leaving the operation to his sons, Chester and Bert. Although they were quite young, the boys were able to keep the ranch operating and running smoothly, evidence of August’s success as both a rancher and father. Over time the brothers acquired their own homestead land to add to the ranch, built their own homes and began their own families. They had worked hard to build up the ranch from what their father had left them, thriving with their herd of Hereford cattle and small herd of wild horses.

Chester and Bert faced their own challenges and hardships as cattlemen. 1929 was a particularly hard year. That winter a blizzard blew through Locomotive that caused the herd to wander more than 50 miles around the west side of the Great Salt Lake. Eventually the men found the cattle and began the long and cold trek back to Locomotive. Several of the cows were too weak to make the journey as a result Bert arranged a railroad car to take them back. It was that same year that they struggled to sell their cattle due to the Great Depression. In an attempt to keep things afloat, the Eliason brothers participated in the Agriculture Adjustment Act, the government’s effort to subsidize the cattle market. Chester and Bert sold 40 cows at $14 a head that were simply killed to reduce the surplus.

Shortly after the Great Depression, Chester chose to take his part of the operation and expand north into Holbrook, Idaho. For years he had his eye on a particular piece of ground, the Rockhouse Ranch, and finally had the opportunity to buy it for himself. His uncle, Dave Dille, owned the ranch and had first offered Bert the chance to buy the cattle and land. With Bert declining the offer, it was Chester’s for the taking. He jumped at the chance and moved his family the 14 miles north in a horse drawn wagon and went to work. The ranch came with a few modest buildings, fences, cows, hay lands and was the new beginning Chester had dreamed of. The combination of his new land, the original homestead, and his share of the range permits provided a solid foundation for the beginning his own small cattle enterprise.

Chester got to work improving the ranch and making it his own. He began by salvaging the better existing buildings, getting together a team of horses and ditcher to clean out the ditch that had only previously been cleaned by a hand shovel, employing the help of his neighbors to build a new barn, and trading a saddle horse for their first tractor. Often he would hire men to help with the work, especially during the summer to help put up hay, but his most reliable hands were his two sons that learned to work by his side.

While Chester made significant changes and improvements to what his father had begun, he stayed true to so many things that were at the core of the father’s success in ranching. He continued to run cattle on the range with the neighboring ranches. They found a collective strength in working and running cattle together. It provided the means, resources, energy, support and man power to get the work done, but it also allowed them the autonomy to run their own operations how they wanted. Not only did he continue to run his operation in a similar manner as his father, but he did so with those same values of hard work, honesty, responsibility, and drive that were fundamental at keeping the ranch not only running, but successful. And again, these traditions and values were something that Chester instilled in his children.

For years, Chester worked with his sons, Ray and Don, but eventually it was Don that took over the operation. With the innovations of the times, there were several areas that Don could make improvements at the ranch. For quite a while they had been moving cattle from Locomotive to Black Pine in two 2-ton trucks. While this was faster than the 10 day cattle drive they had done for years, it was still slow and hard. In 1982 Don took the plunge to buy a semi and cattle trailer to haul the cattle (ironically buying the trailer before the truck- literally the cart before the horse!). Not long after that, he purchased their first round bailer which transformed their haying operation after putting up loose hay for nearly 100 years.

Don improved their irrigation system by moving from flood irrigating to hand lines and then again upgrading to wheel lines. New buildings and sheds were erected to better maintain and care for the equipment. He slowly grew the herd by keeping more cows each year, and grew it to a sizeable number only rarely supplementing by purchasing cows. In that time he also moved from a Hereford operation to Black Angus.

Eventually both of Don’s sons, Ken and Ron, returned to the ranch after finishing college. They worked as partners for years, each bringing new ways to maintain and improve the ranch. In some of his college courses, Ken had learned how to preg check cows and was one of the first in the area to begin using that practice for better herd management. He admitted that in the beginning he was inexperienced but over time he became more proficient and his talent became quite an asset for the ranch. No longer were they keeping and feeding open cows that were not profitable or having calves born late into the fall every year. Preg checking allowed them to have a clearer picture of their herd- what cows were profitable, what needed to be culled as well as more easily manage each year’s calf crop.

As they were fine tuning their herd management, they were also improving their herd genetics. The cattle already had strong genetics to thrive on the rough range. Ron focused on finding genetics that would produce larger calves through AI-ing and the new herd bulls purchased every year.

As opportunities arose, the men would purchase or lease land that would allow them to expand their operation. They purchased more land locally that provided the space and hay land to manage a growing herd. Eventually the hay acreage was sold to facilitate buying more land in Locomotive, which continued to be an ideal place to have the cattle during the calving season. For a few years they leased acreage on the Gamble/Wine Cup Ranch in Nevada where they ran several hundred cows year round. Having some of the cattle in Nevada worked well because of the good feed and its low maintenance but eventually the distance became too much and the cows came home.

It has been important to the Eliason’s that as they tried to improve where they could, to continue using those practices that had proved successful over the years. To this end, the men continued to run cattle in Locomotive and in the association with several other ranchers formed so many years ago. The benefits that August and Chester had found still serve the current cattlemen well. There is also some amount of pride in continuing the heritage of calving, riding, roping, branding and weaning out on the open range like the cowboys did so long ago.

Eventually Ron and his family chose to leave the ranch to chase their own adventures. Don and Ken continued to work side by side but with Don ageing, the business of the ranch was turned to Ken. Through the ups and downs of ranching, Ken has continued to see the progress and growth of the ranch. He recalls how they used to keep and feed their weaned calves through the winter to sell in the spring. But now, they are able to sell heavier calves months earlier, a success he attributes to their continual striving to make the operation better. A clear example of just how notable their cattle operation has become is in the ICA Annual Grass Futurity Contest. The Eliason’s have entered a calf each year for the last three years and have been one of the top three finishers for two of those years. In 2018 their calf not only won the contest, but was the heavy gainer two of the four months.

In looking to the future Ken has some very clear goals. First, he wants to pass on the ranch to his sons as had been done for so many generations. There is a legacy and heritage found in the family ranch that he is honored to pass on to his sons. His second goal is simply to keep and maintain what they have. Ken’s final goal is to carefully manage the growth and financial affairs of the ranch. Over so many years and generations they have developed an impressive operation and while he wants to expand, he isn’t willing to risk losing what they already have.

Ken is proud of their family’s ranch. Proud of the work that was done before him, proud of what he has been able to do, and proud of the future the ranch will have in his own children. He and his wife Kristy have raised their five sons, Brayden, Clayton, Nathan, Quinn, and Eric, on the ranch and they largely attribute their living and working on the ranch to shaping them into the men they are today. They learned well the lessons of hard work, responsibility and accountability. They learned how to run cattle, work with horses, use and maintain equipment, and harvest what they sow. Ken talks about how great it was having their boys to work with him as they were growing up. “They loved the work and always wanted to be involved in whatever we were doing. The hardest thing was always finding enough horses or saddles or whatever to go around for them all!”

Their life on the ranch set the stage for each of their futures. As they attended college they all studied ranch and ag related degrees. Their passion for the industry and their individual talents has made for some great opportunities for the ranch and in their own lives. The boys all admit that they would all love a chance to come back to live and work on the ranch but understand that that is unlikely. For now they take whatever time they can to come and help and still be part of what is happening on the ranch.

Currently, two of the sons, Brayden and Nathan, have returned to the ranch with their families. With their return they have brought with them new ideas and dreams for the ranch- pivots to replace the wheel lines, a drone and cameras to more easily watch and check the herd, more advanced haying equipment, and better herd health and nutrition.

The ranch isn’t the only place that has benefitted from the hard working family. The Eliasons feel strongly in being involved and serving in their community. Throughout the generations, they have been involved in their local volunteer ambulance, fire department, search and rescue, fair board, church, and community rodeo. Several of the Eliasons have even served on the ICA Board of Directors. When it comes to service, Brayden says, “If not me then who, and if not now, when?”

The Eliason ranch has changed in so many ways over so many years, but so many things have stayed the same. Each day is filled with the men doing their best to improve upon the day before while holding close the heritage and values that the ranch had been founded on. Ken says, “We have raised a lot of cattle through the years, but our best crop has always been our kids.” It is evident that through the legacy of hard work not only has a successful cattle operation flourished, but more impressive are the successful generations of a hard working ranch family. The family raised the cattle, but the cattle also raised the family.