Mud Wrestling: A Cattle Roundup

 35 ... the number of things that went wrong as we brought cattle home from summer pasture.

Truthfully, I'm not sure that number is high enough. But, as I stood waiting on the tractor to again pull the pickup and trailer through mud and muck, it's what went through my mind. It was more like mud wrestling than farming around here this fall.

By the way, the number is really there because of the pole's former life as an electric pole. But years ago, it got a second "career" as part of a loading chute at the Ninnescah Pasture.

So, am I exaggerating about the 35? Nope. 

First of all, we were a couple weeks behind schedule. We had waited until mid-November, hoping the water on our normal route would recede after the 14-plus inches of fall rain we'd received.

We couldn't wait any longer, so we added 12 miles to each of our trips to and from the pasture, since we had to go the long way around. (We made a total of 12 trips, so that's an extra 144 miles. See? I told you 35 wasn't exaggerating!)

In fact, it rained and deposited another 2 inches or so of rain, and it snowed a couple of times for good measure, including on the night before we were supposed to round up all the cattle at the Ninnescah. 

 Brrrr! At least the sun was shining, making it seem a little warmer.

 

But it was a brisk 4-wheeler ride to find the mamas and babies and get them to cross water into the pens and corral. 

 Still, the ride over the dam on the Ninnescah River was undeniably pretty.

Of course, a few of them were "visiting" a neighbor's pasture, so it added another step to the process. 

The pasture is 320 acres, so there are plenty of places for cattle to hide out. We also had to get some of them to cross the Ninnescah River, and the extra-soggy ground didn't make that job any easier either.

More than once, we thought we'd found them all. But a few stragglers eventually joined their buddies in the corrals. 

The ground was so saturated that a 4-wheel-drive pickup couldn't pull a trailer by itself. So each trip to the pasture also necessitated hooking up the loader tractor to the pickup and pulling it back out to the road.

The mud at the gate eventually led to no traction. And no traction eventually led to wiping out a gate post and tearing up one of the trailers in the process.

At first, Randy planned to have the loaded trailer "limp" all the way home. But one of the tires was leaving a dark mark on the blacktop road, and I started campaigning for an alternative. What if the trailer totally broke down on U.S. Highway 50, a route we had to take for several miles to get back home? I was envisioning trying to transfer cattle from one trailer to another while semis whizzed by.

So, instead, we pulled over at Sylvia and made the transfer there. I was impressed with my husband's backing skills. He didn't need more than one try to get the two trailers positioned end to end.

Getting the cattle to step from one trailer to the other is usually the bigger challenge, he contended. He and his Dad had to do it a long time ago. But the mamas and babies cooperated well. (Maybe they knew we were about at the breaking point.)

We did eventually get all the mamas and babies moved back home. The mamas had their OB/GYN appointments with Dr. Figger ...

... and the babies had their "well-child" checks. 

(And, I could add more to the number of ways things went wrong during that process, too. The hired man got hurt - not badly, thankfully.  But he was out of commission for an afternoon. So I did a lot more heavy lifting than I sometimes have to do. Literally, I did heavy lifting. After we got cows or calves into the lane toward the working chute, I lifted an awkward 20-pound pipe and inserted it behind the final one to keep them in position. When you only have four or five mama cows in the lane at once, that's a lot of lifting! It's the farm version of weight training.)

But, we eventually got everyone moved to their appointed places. Some of the mamas are on sudan or corn stalks while they await the births of their new babies in February. 

The feeder calves are getting their daily rations with the feed truck.

And, for a couple of weeks, I was the feed truck driver and full-time hired hand.

 

However, this fall, we also had some excellent short-term help from a couple of other volunteers. Kinley and Brooke helped me keep the gate blocked.

 They looked over the herd with Grandpa to observe any problems. 

And they just brightened our outlook, in general.

They also helped move some of the mama cows and used their newly-developed hand motions to get them moving out of the trailer and into their winter home. Reading hand signals is an integral part of farm-girl education.

I wonder if they're free next fall?

Note:  We actually moved cattle home from summer pastures in mid-November. I never got the blog post written - visiting granddaughters, holiday preparations, personnel problems ... the list goes on and on. But I still thought we needed a record of this memorable year. And by memorable, I don't mean enjoyable ... except the granddaughters. That part was enjoyable! As I've said in the past, it's important to tell about the hard stuff, too - not just the gorgeous sunrises and sunsets but what actually went on between them.

There's No Business Like "Snow" Business

Sing along now:

There's snow business

Like snow business

Like snow business, I know!

This amalgamation of the Irving Berlin tune rattled around in my head like the trailer rattled over snowy roads yesterday morning.

Our earlier rains - 14 inches in a month - and the recent snows have slowed the timing of our annual ritual of moving cattle home from summer pastures. But we moved a group of 25 mamas to the pasture south of our house Monday morning.

Last Friday, we had a brisk morning for a visit from Dr. Figger as he preg-checked and vaccinated the 26 cows. (One was open - or not pregnant - so she had a chauffeur-escorted drive to the sale barn Monday afternoon.)

 Thankfully, we have a little windbreak at the cattle-working chute, and the job didn't take too long.

Hey, 696! Your eartag ruined my perfect line of sparkling snow.

Aw, well! I must remember my priorities!

However,  between running cattle up the lane, I took photos.

It kept my mind off my freezing fingers and toes.

The bulls probably wondered why they were arriving at this snow-covered pasture.  But, never fear: A big bale of hay had already been delivered for their rural Meals on Wheels.

And the surroundings were pretty spectacular.

I guess I wasn't too cold.

 

I wondered around the yard taking more photos after Randy dropped me off both Friday and after we moved the group Monday morning.

Ice on those remaining fall leaves was like icing on a decorated cake.

Even those leaves that had given up their hold on the branches were beautiful underfoot.

You'd think I would have had enough of the cold. But we braved frigid temperatures and an 11 AM start of the K-State vs. KU football game on Saturday.

It took me until we got to Hutchinson (2 hours after our departure) to thaw out! So I guess I really can't complain about the cold this morning as we gather pairs at the Ninnescah Pasture, then sort them and bring them home. Right? I'll try and remember that! It's going to be a long day, I'm afraid!

Crying Over Missed Milk - And Broken Cameras

There was a lot of bawling going on. Believe me, I felt like crying, right along with the mama cows.

The mamas were bawling because they were momentarily separated from their babies. I was sad because my camera flew out of my hand and met a quick demise during the first of four days of working baby calves. I should know better than to try to drive a 4-wheeler and take photos with the same hand that works the gas.

I was chasing cattle who were enticed by the green wheat that flanked the dusty road. As I came up out of the ditch, the camera flew out of my hand. I didn't run over it, but its wounds left it in critical condition. I didn't have time to worry about it. I stuck it in my sweatshirt pocket and commenced with the job at hand - getting the mamas and baby calves up to the corral.

Sadly, resuscitation efforts on the camera were unsuccessful. 

  

Back when Jill was in 4-H, one of her projects was clothing buymanship. One of the factors to consider was "cost per wear." As I tried to resurrect my camera afterwards, I thought about getting my money's worth with my camera. I use it almost every day. So my "cost per use" is pretty low. I wanted that to make me feel better. Who am I kidding? It didn't.

After we got the cows and calves in the corral, I made a detour back to our house to get an old camera so I could continue taking photos of the process. After using it for the rest of the week and viewing the photos, I remembered why I'd replaced it. It doesn't focus well, especially at a distance. And the zoom doesn't work 75 percent of the time. (But it is better than nothing.)

Randy says, as the price of farm equipment goes, my camera is a mere drop in the bucket. However, I'm still mad at myself. We took a detour to Best Buy Tuesday night before going to the musical, "Once" at Wichita's Century II. That was a nice diversion.

They didn't have what I wanted in stock, so a new camera is supposed to arrive at my door, maybe as soon as tomorrow. One of the young salesmen didn't like my choice, but, as I told him, I needed a camera that will fit in my pocket. Now, if I would have just left it in my pocket while driving a 4-wheeler, I wouldn't have had an accident and I wouldn't have been irritated with the young upstart questioning my decision.


Reunited from Kim Fritzemeier on Vimeo.

The mamas and babies had a happy ending. After the babies were done with their "appointments," they were reunited.

I'm hoping for my own happy ending soon - even if my checkbook is a little lighter.

Fall Homecoming: A Parade of Sorts

A few weeks ago, we were at K-State's fall homecoming parade. We've had "homecoming" of a different sort during the past couple of weeks on the County Line.

In Manhattan, there's a parade staging area at the mall. The organizer gets all the floats and vehicles lined up for a steady line of traffic down Poyntz Avenue. We could have used a parade marshal to organize our annual round up of cattle off the summer pasture at the Ninnescah River.

Instead of tunes to a marching band ...

... our cattle danced to the "music" of a honking pickup horn. But they definitely weren't interested in marching to a 4/4 tempo. They marched to the beat of their own drummer.

Please keep the line moving, guys!

Instead of tissue paper-packed floats to provide decor ...

the falls colors of the prairie gave the ambiance. But early in the day, the colors were faded under an overcast sky.

We do the round up in two phases:  First, we gather all the cows, bulls and calves together into a lot. 

The bull and one of the cows were glad to clean up the hay leftovers from the back of the pickup before they were herded into a smaller pen for sorting.

During our first trip to the pasture, we separate off the calves and bring them back home via farm trailers to the farmstead for weaning.

 

It takes several trips using two pickups and trailers.

After we have the calves sorted off, we turn the mama cows and the bulls back into the pasture for an extended "vacation."

We don't have enough pens at the farmstead to keep everything separate while we wait for the veterinarian's visit to work the calves which were born in February and March of this year.

You'd think that the mothers would relish a little uninterrupted grazing after they've been serving as personal milk machines during the past six-plus months.

But when they realize their babies are leaving without them, there's a parade toward the trailers.

Every return trip, I stood at the gate while the trailers came through so the mamas didn't follow the trailers out of the pasture gate.

Before going back to the farmstead, we stopped at the co-op elevator scales to get both an empty weight and a loaded weight. After doing a little math, Randy figured that the calves averaged 565 pounds per head. He was pleased with the rate of gain.

Once at the farmstead, we counted calves as they came off the trailer, then they could enjoy a plentiful silage buffet in the corrals.

Our counting revealed a problem, however. We were several several cows and calves short. So Randy and I went back to the pasture to look for them.

By that time, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful fall day.

Don't tell the boss, but it didn't seem like work to ride a 4-wheeler in a pretty setting. 

While we could use some rain now, summer rains have kept the Ninnescah River flowing this fall.

However, after we had been searching for awhile, I must admit I was getting a little nervous about finding them. We hoped they hadn't escaped to a neighboring pasture. 

But the stragglers were eventually found. Randy opted to leave them there, knowing we'd be back the next week to pick up the rest of the mama cows.

Coming up on the County Line:  A visit from the vet and the 2016 finale to the summer pasture season.