Archive for the 'Bridger' Category

You’ve Just Been Passed By A Toaster.

Tuesday, January 15th, 2008

The Sunday before Christmas, a friend and I went to Cody. As soon as I crossed the state line, I said to Nada, “I have to remember that I’m in the Cowboy State.” We were talking, and I wasn’t paying attention to the speedometer. Not long after, I saw the cruiser lights behind me. I pulled over, fumbling for my license, registration and insurance card. Actually, I couldn’t get my license out of my wallet, it was in there so tight. The police officer was very young and very serious. He asked, “Do you know why I stopped you?” I said, “How fast was I going?” Apparently 47 in a 35 is not a good thing. The officer went back to his car with my papers. I had never been pulled over before. Oh, I’ve been a passenger in vehicles that were pulled over more times that I care to admit, but I was never stopped while driving. I was wishing that I hadn’t recently viewed Super Troopers. The thought of the movie was making me laugh. When he came back to my car, he wished me a Merry Christmas and asked me to slow down. I apologized again for not paying attention, thanked him and also wished him Merry Christmas.

Not long after, Sugar and I traveled to Billings. I was just getting up to speed out of Bridger, singing along with the radio. I noticed a Carbon County sheriff vehicle make a u-turn. I was being pulled over. Once again, I got my papers together as the law enforcement vehicle sat behind me with lights blazing. Deja vu. The serious young deputy asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” I asked, “How fast was I going?” He replied, “You were going eighty, and the speed limit is seventy.” I said, “Oh. I’m sorry, I was singing with the radio, I was not paying attention to my speed, and I was only keeping up with the rest of the traffic.” He shook his head and took my documents. He sat in his vehicle behind me for what seemed like a long time. When he came back he handed me a written warning and told me sternly, “Slow down!”.

So, if you are passed by a toaster in Montana, I swear that it isn’t me. I have been re-introduced to my cruise control.

Tarred with the same brush.

Sunday, July 15th, 2007

Bye girls. . .

Goodbye to my beautiful girls and their healthy calves. Goodbye to years of selective breeding. Goodbye to another thing that Allan and I struggled to build.

They’re calling this herd tainted. A misleading headline. The Morgans have six cows considered positive. Three of those are home raised, bangs vaccinated cows with healthy calves. The other three are Corriente cows that weren’t vaccinated before they purchased them. Those longhorns also have healthy calves on them. These six have been segregated since the test results.

We’ve been called “welfare ranchers”. The USDA budgeted 22% for Farm and Commodity programs in 2003 - 2006. 11% went to Conservation and Forestry. 6% was for Research, Inspection and Administration. 2% went to the Rural Development Program. 3% was for International Programs. The Domestic Food Assistance Programs took 56%.

We’ve been told that we should be happy, that the government is giving us money for our diseased animals. These cows are no more diseased than the brucellosis exposed bison which are permitted to live and return to Yellowstone Park. These cows are our private property that the government is taking.

These cattle are considered “exposed” to brucellosis. Federal law requires brucellosis exposed livestock to be slaughtered. Federal law does not require “exposed” wildlife to be slaughtered. How is this a scientific solution to the eradication of brucellosis? People were crying over moms and babies. That slaughter did not happen. Ranchers have been vilified as rabid, evil, wildlife haters. Maybe there are some extremist ranchers, but most ranchers enjoy all animals. I don’t appreciate having hundreds of deer in my haystacks, especially knowing that they are relatively recent arrivals to this part of the Clark’s Fork Valley. It makes me wonder about the free all you can eat wildlife buffet being served here.

How did all of this happen? Even with CSI Montana, it is doubtful the actual source will be found.

The original “hot cow” would have been on the Emigrant ranch at the time she contracted the brucella abortus organism. This was not from a bovine source, but another ungulate - elk. How did the elk get this? Probably from the bison.

I understand the history of brucellosis. I am well aware that this is a cattle disease, transmitted from livestock to wildlife. History repeats and reverses itself. Brucellosis is now transmitted from the bison to other wildlife. Every recent case of brucellosis in cattle in the Yellowstone area has had a common denominator - elk.

The writing was on the wall from Day One. We knew that our cattle were going to slaughter. If there was a procedure in place, it should have been followed. We should have been kept abreast of what was happening. I know that Montana has not gone through this in years. I understand that the focus was shifted from our livelihood to the icon of Yellowstone National Park.

We were left in the dark. We apparently were not on a “need to know” basis. My heifers were headed for slaughter. I was getting more information from the Billings Gazette than the agencies involved. I had to call the Feds, not the other way around. I took in the speculation and rumors. I read utter nonsense. We heard from folks crying about “what we were doing to the industry”. My father-in-law was yelled at by a “neighbor” complaining about what I was doing. He didn’t call me. The Industry didn’t come to anyone’s rescue. We were in the middle of political posturing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I too, requested a sit down with the Executive Branch.

The slaughter of Jim and Sandy’s herd is not going to eradicate brucellosis. This is a political solution, not a scientific solution. A buffer zone around YNP is not going to solve the problem either. It would create new problems. Political problems, reaching far beyond the borders of the United States, not simply the “buffer zone”.

What is the solution? I don’t know, but I would like to see all parties involved putting their heads together to work toward trying to eradicate this disease. We need to protect and respect all of our resources. Farmers and ranchers make up a very small part of the United States population. Most of us would not be doing this if we didn’t love it. I know that these are beef cattle. I may not be a third generation Montanan like my late husband, but I understand that I am producing food. These cows were not for sale now. My heifers should have produced nine or ten more calves. Only then should they have been considered beef headed for slaughter. These calves should not be going to slaughter at this young age. They needed to continue getting their mother’s milk for quite some time. It isn’t going to happen.

Personally, I’d like to thank everyone who has been supportive the last few weeks. Your calls, messages, comments and emails have helped. Many of you didn’t understand what was going on. Don’t feel bad, neither did we. We’re all getting an education.

There are scarier things than disease:
Ignorance and arrogance
Taxes and capital gains

Stay tuned.

Busy days

Saturday, March 31st, 2007

I braved the blizzard to go to Bridger yesterday. Picked up groceries and a tractor tube. When I stopped in Town & Country Supply, this caused me to pause and pull my camera out:

What the heck?

Apparently, they’re dyed in the egg. I’d never heard of such a thing, but of course I was able to google it. I’m sure that these birds aren’t from the farm in Alaska - but someone is using the same method. Very strange. I asked if I could bring Sugar in to see them, but they begged me not to.

An update:

Instructions to dye your own. Why you’d want to, I don’t know.

Yes, you read that right

Tuesday, July 12th, 2005

Yes, you read that right
Originally uploaded by moos.

I keep thinking of Buster Poindexter.

How you feeling?

(Hot, hot, hot.)

Full lyrics here.

Latest Acquisition

Wednesday, September 22nd, 2004


Here’s a great old card.
There’s no publisher information.
It was postmarked from Bridger, Montana - but the date is unclear.

It was sent to Mr. W Hellwig, Cortlandt St., No Tarrytown, New York.
It reads:
Say Kid.
How does this look to you I spent a cupple of hrs here.
Regards Jack
Billings Montana

Go Boss….

Tuesday, August 17th, 2004

Yesterday, most of the knuckleheads had moved. Back to where I had moved them from. I went all the way up to the high water well, anyhow. As I approached the solar panels, I noticed was that the pump wasn’t pumping. Oh, no… Got out, looked at the pump motor - well done - melted wires and all. Couldn’t have been that way too long though, the water tank was full. I stood there for a moment, listening to the batteries cooking, hissing, spitting, sputtering and splashing acid. Hmmm… Here goes nothing. Touched a wingnut. Well, no shock there, so I disconnected the first battery wire. Then the second. Went to the toolbox. Back to the motor. Disconnected the wires. Back to the tool box. Took the motor off the pump jack. Put it and the belt in the pickup. Looked at the batteries again. Didn’t want to mess with them, but disconnected every wire and box on the thing, and brought all of it with me.

The guys weren’t too thrilled about the burnt out motor. But they seemed glad that I had taken it home.

Worked on the books this morning. Had half a dozen things to do before I could run to Billings to have the motor fixed again. This is the same motor that was repaired earlier this summer. I didn’t get “to town” until after noon. When I left, I noticed the baler was stopped in the field. So I drove over to check if it was something major (NO) or if I’d need to stop for parts for it, too (YES). Dropped off a couple of things in Bridger, stopped at the bank and the Post Office - then hit the road. There’s construction at Rockvale, but still made decent time.

The work on the motor won’t be started until tomorrow, so I’ll be back in Billings before the week is out. What I really need to do is get in the garden and try to locate my vegetables. Most of the weeds are taller than me, since I haven’t found five minutes to work in the garden in the past month.