I've Been Enlisted

I've been enlisted. No, not into military service. But I have been enlisted to drive the feed truck this winter. In its former life, our feed truck was an Army truck. We purchased the 1991 5-ton, 6-wheel drive Army truck and had the Kelly Ryan feed wagon box added to the back in 2014.

C. Melvin Fritzemeier, 10th Infantry Division, U.S. Army

Since Randy's Dad drove an Army truck in the Korean War, there's a bit of nostalgia there, too.

It still has its Army number emblazoned on the driver's side door. That first step is a doozy. So I use my handy-dandy ladder to get into the truck.

 

 Once inside, it looks a little like mission control. 

 With the gap between the windows and the frame, it's kind of a cold ride on nippy mornings! Randy "says" there is a heater. There may be a blower, but I'm not convinced it's heating anything.

Every morning, Randy uses the loader tractor to scoop out silage from the trench silo. The silage crop was rather small this year, so the silo isn't nearly as full as it sometimes is.

It takes several scoops to get enough silage to feed the cows and the calves.

Once I get a thumbs up, it's time to get the truck turned around and headed back to the corrals.

It's kind of a tight squeeze. My least favorite part of the trip is pulling in and out of the drive and the narrow gate.

To make sure I don't end up in Peace Creek, I have to pull into a driveway past the actual entrance into the pasture, back up and then come in from the north. I make my exit in the same convoluted way.

There are no guard rails on that wooden bridge.

Once I make the trek back to the farmstead, Randy augers some grain in the truck while I follow voice commands. (I turn off the blower first so I can hear him. It doesn't seem to make much difference in the temperature in the cab anyway.)

Then I become fence opener for our neighborhood Meals on Wheels delivery.

I like the warmer days ...

... better than the frigidly cold days. 

It doesn't seem to affect our diners much. They like the meal plan - no matter the weather.

Come to think of it, the cab of the truck is warmer than the outside temperature most days.

However, until the calves get moved to a larger lot, there's a lot of maneuvering involved. So gate duty it is!

All in the Family: The Big Pasture

These two cousins have been rounding up cattle at the Big Pasture for several decades. They did it again last week.

I helped with the round-up there for the first time last week. To our knowledge, I was the first woman to help with the actual cattle work since the ground was purchased by a family member in 1904. After it was all over, I accused Randy of trying to scare me with "worst case scenario" options.

As you can tell from their smiles - and the fact that I was able to convince them to take a photo - we didn't end up with any major mishaps. It was a beautiful fall day. And Don said I was hired for next year. I told him they must have a fairly low threshold for "employment."

But as I waited with Randy and Don for the cattle trailer to return for the next load, I did hear one story that qualified in the "worst case scenario" category. One year, a cow tried to hurdle Melvin, knocked him off his 4-wheeler and a hoof hit him in the head.

Thankfully, there were no cows trying out for the Olympic team last week.

The waiting gave me an opportunity to eavesdrop on the two cousins' conversation while I pretended to read my book. (I did do some reading, too.) Later, Randy said he always enjoys that part of the day. We live halfway across the county from Don, so they don't get as many opportunities to visit. There used to be a family reunion a couple of times a year, but as the older generation passed away, those gatherings died, too.

As Randy and Don sat on the back of the pickup and talked, I thought about the family that came before them and worked to give them the opportunity to keep running cattle on this pasture on the Rattlesnake Creek.

The three brothers on the back row owned the pasture. Clarence was Randy's Grandpa; Ed was Don's dad.

Years ago, Randy's grandpa Clarence and his brother, Ed (Don's dad) owned the pasture with their brother, Harve. I used a working photo from a 1950s cattle round-up in my last blog post. This one looks like it was from a wedding anniversary celebration, and it includes their sisters, Minnie and Edna. But, even as young boys, Randy and Don got in on the family affair that the fall round-up entailed.

Undated photo - Clarence and Melvin

As our feet dangled off the back of the pickup and we ate our ham sandwiches, I thought about the previous generations who'd done the very same thing. 

Eventually, Randy's dad, Melvin, inherited the pasture from Clarence, while Don's portion was passed on to him by his dad.

Who knows? Maybe this Hereford pictured with Melvin was on the big pasture at some point. At that time, the Fritzemeiers raised horned Herefords.

Now, Randy and I also have Hereford bulls as well as Angus bulls for our crossbred herd. But we have opted for polled Herefords. 

Before this year's round-up, Randy had been bringing a pickup with hay to the pasture in hopes that they'd come running for a free buffet. However, one lonely cow was the sole curious observer when we first arrived.

Well, that's not entirely accurate. A herd on the other side of the road was curious enough to come to the fence to watch the action and to chime in with a chorus of "cattle calls."

But, eventually, all my honking had generated some interest in our pasture, too.

For the record, alfalfa doesn't give cows "minty fresh breath."

I know because a few of them had their heads practically in my window.

Once the 4-wheelers had made the circuit and had pushed the cows and their calves toward my honking pickup, we began the "parade" toward the corrals, with me leading the way and the cattle following in a cloud of dust.

Then it was time to urge them into the corrals.

While the guys made one final sweep of the pasture to look for stranglers, I sat and read my book.

Then it was time to set up panels, the loading lane and loading chute so we could get the cattle from the pens to Don's semi.

Don built the lane and chute one winter.

The two cousins (along with a couple of other helpers) sorted while I ran the gate. The guys have been doing this a long time and they seemed to know instinctively what the other was going to do. It took four semi trailer loads - two with cows and two with calves - but the job was finally done.

It was just in time. As we were getting ready to leave, the clouds covered the sun and gave us a stunning farewell sky.

We almost got everything unloaded and put away at home before the cold front blew in.

The vet will be here today to preg-check the cows from that pasture and then vaccinate the calves from both the Big Pasture and the Ninnescah. It's going to be a cold day.

But it's a good feeling to have the cattle home - even if it means I now have a daily job driving the Army truck-turned-feed truck. More on that to come.

Everything Old Is New Again: Pasture Proceedings

The frost crunched under my tennis shoes as we arrived at the Ninnescah pasture. The air seemed to shimmer, too, with the particles of frost almost hanging there to touch.

It was time to round up cows and their calves from their summer vacation spot. As Randy unloaded the 4-wheelers, I looked at the sky and contemplated life's questions: Is the sky bluer on a cold morning?

Once upon a time when I was in charge of state fair coverage for The Hutchinson News, I was stopped by an encyclopedia salesman as I walked through the Commercial Building. He was the quintessential salesman. At the time, Jill was a toddler. He asked the question, "If you don't have a set of encyclopedias at your fingertips in your home, how will you answer when your daughter asks, 'Why is the sky blue?' "

His question wasn't motivating enough to have me fork over my salary from all those overtime hours at the fair, but I've thought of that question many times in the 30 years since. Who would have thought I could eventually type a question like that in a search engine on a computer and come up with an answer more quickly than I could walk to a bookshelf and open a book?

For the record: Yes, the sky can be bluer in the colder temperatures of the fall and winter. And here's the long Google explanation as to why:

Back in the 19th century, John William Strutt (also known as Lord Rayleigh) discovered the equations governing the scattering of light by the molecules of oxygen and nitrogen in the atmosphere. To simplify his very technical equation, the intensity of Rayleigh scattering is inversely related to the wavelength. The shorter the wavelength, the more it’s scattered. And the more its scattered, the more it reaches our eyes from different directions, dictating what color we perceive the sky to be. In the autumn, the sun is no longer directly overhead and more of the sky is significantly angled away from the sun. The Rayleigh scattering directs more blue light towards your eyes while the indirect sunlight decreases the incoming levels of red and green. So the sky does appear bluer.

From https://wildcardweather.com

With the drying grasses, the cattle seemed ready for a change of scenery, too. We had brought three 4-wheelers (and three people) to gather the cattle from the 320 acres they can roam on during the summer. However, the cattle came running as Randy started to throw out bales of hay.

Randy says we probably could have accomplished the round-up part with only one 4-wheeler this time. It was  the easiest gathering I've ever experienced. I'm not complaining, even if I didn't get a scenic ride to the Ninnescah river.

Once we had the cows and calves corralled, Randy and our neighbor who was helping walked back to get the other two pickups and trailers. And I took photos. Big surprise, right?

We don't use this old loading chute any longer, but it still stands as a testament to decades of rounding up cattle on these lands. (We do still use the attached corrals.)

Even as the sun burned off the frost, the sky and the unusual clouds made for a pleasant "office."

It was a picture postcard fall scene with the leaves starting to turn and the fall colors contrasting with the bright, blue sky.

Even with three pickups and trailers, it took several trips to transport all 66 cows, 65 calves and two bulls back to the farmstead.

Those old cottonwoods at the pasture gate have witnessed a lot of cattle round-ups.

On Wednesday, we'll round up cattle at the Rattlesnake pasture - what Randy has always called "the big pasture." It's been in his family since 1900 and is owned today by Randy and his cousin Don. The ground was purchased for $4 an acre by a great-great-uncle, August Brinkman. Originally in a tract of 1,040 acres, today 560 acres of it remain in the Fritzemeier family.

It is a Farm Bureau Century Farm. Back when Randy was a child, the pasture located along the Rattlesnake Creek was owned by his grandpa Clarence, Don's dad Ed and their two brothers. Today, Randy and Don are the remaining owners.

L to R: Clarence Fritzemeier (Randy's Grandpa) Milton Giedinghagen, Ben Fritzemeyer, Melvin Fritzemeier (my father-in-law) & Harve Fritzemeier. Yes there are two different spellings on Fritzemeier - it's not a typo!

Years ago, the extended family would gather in the spring to take the cattle to pasture and then round them up in the fall. I think this undated photo would have been taken in the 1950s.

While the guys were rounding up and sorting the cattle, the women got together to make a big meal.

My mother-in-law Marie, Jean Newell Fritzemeyer & Marjorie Giedinghagen on a cattle working day back in the 1950s.

For the first time ever, there will be a woman helping with the cattle tasks on Wednesday. So if the earth stops rotating on Wednesday, you'll know it's our fault. (I think I'm just kidding.) Randy says the round-up never goes as planned "or the same way twice" at the big pasture. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement, is it?

I've been a part of round-ups at other locations for many years, so I don't know why I'm so nervous about it. (Maybe it's little tidbits from Randy like, "Oh, something always gets by someone." I just don't want it to be me!)

But I will endeavor to do my best. I suppose that's all anyone can ask. This time, the meal will have to be ham sandwiches and fixings in a cooler. (And the woman will still have to make it - just sayin'.)