The travels in the life of a farmer...

As a person growing up and living on the family farm and then deciding to carry on the tradition it is hard to move away from it.  Unfortunately I had no choice, I may have been forced from my family farm, but I refused to give up my roots in agriculture.  I am a generation detached from Ag, meaning my parents were not farmers but my grandparents on my mother’s side were.  We lived on the farm and being the only grandchild for five years I was taken under the wing of my grandpa Frank.  I walked in those big footsteps and learned with every step I took.  My parents supported me but it was my venture to do.  I started early on with a couple sheep that my grandpa gave me.  I slowly grew my flock reinvesting every penny I made into buying more stock.  I eventually went out on a limb and got a loan at the ripe old age of 12.  I purchased a large commercial flock and a few purebred Polled Dorset ewes.  I continued to grow and work hard while going to school, I would get up at 4AM and go feed my stock come home eat breakfast and crawl on the school bus for the almost 2 hour ride to school.  My grandpa would graciously check on my sheep during the day if they were lambing or need check for any reason while I was in school.  Once I got home in the evening I would rush in change my clothes and off to the barn for my chores.  After coming home eating my dinner and doing schoolwork I would go check them once again before bed.  I done this all the way through middle and high school.  It wasn’t until I went onto college that I had to enlist more help from my aunt Mary and my mother, to take care of the flock.  I got my degrees in Pre-Veterinary Medicine and was even accepted to attend Tuskegee School of Veterinary Medicine.  But at that point I made a decision no one expected, I declined the acceptance and pursued a career as a West Virginia State Trooper.  My family was extremely disappointed but I felt it in my heart that was not what I wanted.  I had weighed the options and felt that with my financial burden of schooling I would be married to my job with no way to know if it was what I really wanted day in and day out.  It was hard for everyone to accept but I pursed it and applied to the West Virginia State Police.  I appeared for my first physical test along with 1200 other applicants in January 2004.  Over the next 7 months I would undergo many tests, interviews, and evaluations.  In July 2004 I was notified that I along with 40 other men and women was to report to the West Virginia State Police Academy to begin my career as a West Virginia Trooper.  I completed the 28 weeks of rigorous, mind boggling, physical, and mental anguish along with top notch education on Law Enforcement to graduate as a fully accredited State Trooper on August 2, 2005.  During this time I had relied on my family to support me and keep my passion at home alive.  I was stationed in Charles Town, WV which was nowhere close to home, and was there for almost three years.  But my life was about to be flipped upside-down.  I was transferred to Moorefield, WV detachment which was still 2 hours from home but closer.  My best friend and the man responsible for my wisdom and ever so pursuant attitude in agriculture, my grandpa, was diagnosed with cancer.  My life would change forever, I drove every single day 2 hours to work and two hours home so I could spend every ounce of time and enjoy our moments on the farm with the cows, sheep and everything else I had grown up with him doing.  It was my turn to help him.  The cancer had taken its toll and paralyzed him from the waist down.  I would make sure he made it to and from his cancer treatments on time and in a cheerful mood.  Not once do I remember him frowning when we went but a severely optimistic strong man that I had always knew, telling stories and asking what I was doing in my job as a trooper.  My granddad was failing fast, and for the second time in my life I saw him cry and tell me he was scared. I will never forget the day…I was fully dressed in my State Police Uniform and getting ready to head out for my night duty when he pulled me over and said Ben, I’m scared, I’m going to die soon and I don’t want to…  Well at that moment no matter what any instructor had ever drilled into my head about maintaining a strong prominent figure, this Trooper cried and cried hard, because I to now understood the days were few.  Anyone that ever knew my grandpa knows that he lived for the West Virginia State Fair, and to my knowledge had not missed one since his kids were young.  He looked up from his bed and said I don’t guess I’ll get to go to the fair this year will I?  That was not an option in my eyes, and I immediately assured him that whatever it took we would go to the fair.  I had already asked in advance for vacation from the State Police so I was prepared.  In the weeks coming my Sergeant pulled me into his office and informed me he was canceling my vacation because a superior officer wanted those days off.  Well it didn’t take me long to inform him that I would be taking those days off with or without a badge.  I know that seems insubordinate but I knew what it meant to my grandfather and that I would never get to spend another ‘fair” with him.  The agreed to let me continue my scheduled vacation.  When the 2005 West Virginia State Fair began me and my grandpa and Grandma were there.  On August 20^th 2006 we returned home to the farm from what would be the last fair I would ever get to enjoy with him.  During the next few days his health failed quickly.  On the night of August 25^th 2005 my mother called and said please come see grandpa.  When I arrived which was just across the field he was hanging on with all he had.  I sat there along with the rest of my family and prepared for what we had all dreaded would come.  I walked over to my grandfather’s side, tears rolling down my cheeks, leaned down and whispered into his ear.  I said grandpa we are all here and it’s time to let go and end this fight we will all be okay and know we all love you with every ounce of our hearts, go to peace and be with god, please don’t suffer anymore.  Within moments literally a couple minutes he was gone, my best friend, my mentor, and my grandfather was gone.  I would never get to ask those questions of advice or feel the grip of his stern hand anymore.  All I had was a legacy to continue and everlasting memories to hold close to my heart.  Within a few days after he was laid to rest on the farm he struggled and worked so hard to keep for us, I made a decision to carry on his everlasting legacy as the man he wanted me to be.  My grandfather was a cattleman through and through, and the next life decision I was going to make was one with so many bittersweet emotions.   Grandpa in the last couple years had tried and tried to get me to sell the sheep and move onto the cattle business and follow right along with him.  Being the hard head I was and not wanting to give up the nationwide success I had worked so hard to garner with the sheep, along with 11 years of hard work, blood, sweat and tears I wouldn’t do it.  But as I sat there alone and wondering where my life would go I was approached by a fellow from Arkansas who offered to buy the flock in its entirety.  The struggle was long and hard fought but a deal was made and the Wilfong Dorset Flock would now reside with new ownership in Arkansas.  I couldn’t just bank the money and move on, so I went and purchased 120 bred cows and began renting land around the county to build what is now Mountain Top Angus.  Shortly after my grandfather’s passing I was informed I would not be able to stay on the family farm because there was no room for me and that my uncle would have it all.  Not my choice but I had to move on from what I grew up to know and love.  I had nothing to do but go out and borrow money for everything I have.  Nothing was given to me, if I wanted it I had to work for it, all I had was the money I had gotten from the sale of my flock of sheep.  I went to the bank and began a new journey and went into debt over my eyes just so I could carry on a lifestyle I know and love.  After leaving the State Police to come home and be with my family I began Mountain Top Angus and have had to rely on landowners in the area to provide me rental land to keep my cows in both the summer and winter.  With this comes never ending headaches and added expenses.  I have to contend with corporate farmers who farm with money instead of for money, land grabbing farmers who want every available piece of land they can get, and the millionaires who just want to rent a piece of land so the don’t run their car though a pile of manure to get to their $350,000.00 getaway cabin.  As of today I have close to 200 cows and calves and summer pasture cattle on pastures literally stretching from one end of the county to the other.  This winter I have been forced to split the cows up into three different location with the closest location being 8 miles away. A normal day starts early and I jump in the farm truck and go get hay from one of the many places I have to keep it, for one of the farms usually 3-4 bales.  I travel to the farthest farm which is 18 miles away get there check on cattle, return to the hay stack and load the truck once again to feed the other two locations.  I travel back 8 miles to that location and drop off one bale and then turn around and backtrack to the last farm which is 14 miles away.  I do this 100% by myself like I mentioned before my parents do not farm, my sister does not farm, my girlfriend is not from an ag background, and I have no other reliable family left out there that I can trust.  The expenses and income have made it practically impossible to hire any help, even if you can find someone that is reliable and trustworthy.  As you can only imagine the responsibilities and stress is overwhelming when something goes wrong.  The farms in which the cattle are located this winter area all rentals and have little to no pens or working facilities, and none of them have barns.  I had made a decision last winter to switch calving to early fall calving trying to alleviate death loss due to cold and ease some stress and work from my winter schedule.  During the spring months all the cows were kept separate from any bulls to my knowledge.  As the last few weeks have approached I noticed several cows showing signs of calving, of which I had obviously not prepared for.  Come to find out a bull was put in with my cows for a couple weeks during the late spring.  But to make matters worse I had no preparations for calving this winter and the last two weeks have been proof of why I made my decision to move calving times.  So after discovering several cows in the fall calving groups showing signs of calving soon (due to the negligence of my help keeping bulls away in the spring), I was surprised by a calf of which was killed by coyotes (they ran her into a large patch of briar and the little gal had no chance), then I find a cow with a 3 day old retained placenta in an area where there was no chute so the procedure had to be done in the field using a lariat rope. After getting drug through the mud for quite some time I finally subdued the 1600lb cow and completed the rotten removal. If that wasn't enough the mud just got worse and as the temps got warmer the cows decided to roam to the top of the summer pasture. While bringing them home unbeknown to me my wallet fell out in the middle of a large thorn patch (after driving home and hours of on foot searching I recovered it). Home for the evening and the starter decides to quit on the farm truck so in the mud I go to become a mechanic and replace the starter. After using a flashlight and several pound of mud, dirt, and grime falling into my eyes, ears and, mouth I was able to get the old one off and low and behold the parts store sent the wrong one. Wish the weekend meant something to me but in the farm world it is just another two days of work.  On Sunday as I rushed to get feeding done in time for church I was unable to find one of the heifers a t he farm farthest away.  After walking the pasture for about 2 hours I finally found her wedged in between two trees.  Just like she walked up and decided this looks like a nice place to lay down and have a calf! 400 acres and she chooses to wedge herself in between two trees beside a creek and straight down over a 200 foot hillside, where you cannot get anything in to help other than bare hands. I did get her out alive, the calf was halfway out but it had died during her stupid stunt. Now she is partially paralyzed and stuck where I can't get to her to get her out.  After exhausting every ounce of energy I had I started home.  On my way there I saw a cow singled out at the farm closest to home so that meant I had to stop and take a hike to see what was going on.  As I approached her I was happy to see a healthy calf up and nursing.  Now I could head home for some rest.  Upon arriving at home I grabbed a quick lunch but decided to load the 4 wheeler up and head back to check on the injured cow.  So I made the 18 mile trek back to the farm to keep her as comfortable as possible.  Upon arriving she was showing signs of improvement and looked promising.  On Tuesday another welcome discovery of two healthy calves at the farm 14 miles away, kind of helped ease the pain of the last couple days.  As I went to work with the injured cow I discovered she wasn’t any better but wasn’t any worse.  I had decided to let her rest and hopefully she would recover in a few days.  The weather had been great for a change in the mid 60’s and sunny but was about to change the next couple days.  As the sun rose on Wednesday morning it was off to tackle another day.  Again I go first to check on the injured cow, and much to my unwanted belief she was in bad condition.  She had given up and was very much labored breathing and would not eat, drink, or sit upright.  After a long hard decision she was put down to relieve her struggle and pain.  The day after that was uneventful until the temps began to fall, rain quickly changed to snow and the wind began blowing with gust of upwards to 50 miles per hour.  When I awoke on Thursday morning the temps had fallen from near 60 on Wednesday to 10 degrees with wind chills near -30 below.  The normal travels began and upon arriving at the heifers I saw a small black dot among the heifers in the snow.  One of the heifers had calved earlier and the calf was all but froze with little life left in it.  The wind was blowing snow all around and the temperature was in the neighborhood of -15 degrees.  I grabbed up the chilled calf and put it in the floorboard with the heat cranked up.  As I looked over the heifers I discovered another in distress.  With no chutes or pens on that particular farm I had to cowboy up and lasso her and secure her to a tree.  I returned to the truck and dug out another lariat rope and made loops to put around the calf’s legs.  All I had to use to pull with was a ratchet strap so using my common sense ingenuity that my grandfather had instilled into me I began the pull.  Not expecting a live calf out it came but hip locked and then the struggle was on.  The calf had life but only a little.  Time was crucial for his survival.  Within a few seconds I managed to manipulate the calf the rest of the way out and he was alive.  I immediately loosened up the lasso so the cow could begin her motherly duties of cleaning up her new born.  She began licking and then jumped up and ran the opposite way and never looked back.  Now it was my duty to take care of him.  I had come to realize I was in a desperate situation tow calves struggling for life, frigid temperatures, no barn, no cover, and 18 miles away from home.  I called upon a friend who lived close to look after the calves until I could return with my trailer to transport them to a barn.  I rushed home to get the trailer and arrived back in about an hour and a half.  I was met by my friend who struggled to pass on the news that the chilled calf did not make it, he invited me into his home and living area where he showed me the little bull calf I had pulled was showing good signs.  I immediately fixed up some warm colostrum and got his belly full.  Within a few minutes he was on his feet and doing well.  I made the decision to leave him at my friends house for the night to insure every chance of survival in the warm comfort of his home.  As I made my way home I emotionally beat myself up over the what ifs and what I could’ve done different.  It seems that the struggles of these days bring me to my knees to search my soul and ask myself if this is where I need to be.  Or is this a profession driven towards those with endless bank accounts that can afford every comfort and device.  I find myself asking these questions more and more and wonder if it is time that I move on and know that I have gave it my all and tried as hard as I possibly can.  As I began I never thought I could drag my Ag roots away but sometimes I feel that I am getting nowhere and that I am causing my life too much stress and worry.  A question I’m not sure I can even answer....