When the dust settles, Ranchers wrapping up fall work post-fire
Friends and family help sort calves at the Long ranch on Oct. 21. After they were gathered, sorted and weighed, the calves were trucked to Nebraska. Photo by Tanishka Poal, Buffalo Bulletin.
BUFFALO — A mid-October cattle shipping day is often windy, snowy or muddy, but this year, the temperature gauge read around 35 degrees as eight cowboys set off on horseback to gather livestock on the Long Ranch.
At 7 a.m. in some of the most remote reaches of the Powder River Basin, all was quiet, save for the groaning protests of cattle being driven toward the sorting pens. About an hour later, on the ranchers’ return, activity commenced, as the Nebraska-bound semi truck was due in another hour.
The hot breath of steers, heifers and cows visible in the cool morning air; the flurry of flags flying and gates opening and closing; the din of hooves on metal as the cattle mount the scale for weigh-in. While the specifics may vary, this – cattle shipping – is a familiar routine that unofficially marks the end of the year in agriculture.
Once the truck hauling 55,000 pounds of cattle pulled away, Andy Stevens, when asked how he felt, breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.
After the House Draw fire burned 174,547 acres in eastern Johnson County at the end of August, nearly three dozen landowners – many of whom, like Stevens, raise livestock for a living – are having to adjust their operations to account for their losses. Once-green pastures are now black, and 590 total miles of expensive fencing was destroyed, along with some lost animals or outbuildings.
“There were a lot of emotions going,” Stevens said of the days immediately following the fire. “You work really hard to grow grass and cultivate grass and manage the grass, and to just see everything burn up in a matter of minutes, it was a huge mix of emotions.”
While ranchers have known fire in the dry expanses of Johnson County, the scale and speed of this fire were unprecedented. The fire scorched 163,000 acres of grassland in a day. The burn scar measures a little larger in square mileage than the areas of Salt Lake City and Denver combined.
Stevens said that in the days afterward, he was consumed with thinking through next steps and rebuilding while still in a state of shock.
“We were only two months from shipping and four months from winter,” Stevens said. “We had a lot of things to get figured out.”
Such was the case for Megan and Ian Welles, who now are in the process of rebuilding roughly 98 miles of fence before they ship their cattle in the second week of November.
Under the atypical circumstances, they will ship all of their livestock except their horses. Their operation relies heavily on the grass that burned up in the fire.
“Generally, through the winter, we save our grass and we leave them on whatever grass is out there and we’ll supplement with some protein lick tubs and try not to feed them unless there’s a really bad storm or something of that nature,” Megan Welles said. “This really put us in a bind, because we don’t have any grass to feed during the winter.”
Landowner John Hepp estimates that he lost roughly 60% of his grass in the House Draw fire, from which he counts himself relatively lucky. His focus in the past two months has been on replacing 13 miles of fencing to separate pastures.
“We’re about the only grazing in this area,” Hepp said. “Most of the people down the creek from us got completely burned out.”
In addition to their regular work, these ranching families have participated in several meetings with federal, state and local agencies that are trying to grasp the challenges producers are facing after the state’s largest recorded wildfire.
Welles, in particular, has testified to the Wyoming Legislature’s agriculture subcommittee, and her husband has answered questions of agency officials on a panel about obstacles that lay ahead, including livestock health concerns, invasive vegetation control and fence repair. And now that the U.S. Department of Agriculture has issued a disaster declaration for Johnson County, producers can apply for various Natural Resources Conservation Service and Farm Service Agency programs.
Ultimately, that engagement has been worth it, Welles said. Between governmental support and privatized relief efforts, “the amount of kindness out there has just been overwhelming,” she said.
“It just really speaks to the kind of community that we live in, that when this kind of disaster strikes, that there’s so many people who want to volunteer, to come help, there’s so many organizations that want to pitch in where they can,” Welles said.
The Johnson County Fire Relief Fund organized itself in a matter of days after the fire to coordinate fundraising that has, to date, resulted in $181,000 and counting available to producers who submit an application for assistance. A downtown fundraising dinner, alone, raised more than $81,000.
Meg Scales has been at the forefront of these relief efforts, though she and her family also lost land to the House Draw fire. The primary goal of the relief fund, she said, is to connect affected ranchers with the right people and resources, which means a lot of conversations with her neighbors.
The greatest need, at this point, is fencing, Scales said. Beyond that, it’s unique to each operation.
“Ranchers are considering this thoughtfully as it’s a long-range game when it comes to ranching,” she said. “Some are shipping cattle out of Johnson County or out of state for a prolonged period to give a chance for the grass to rest and for infrastructure projects like fencing. Others are using pasture they usually don’t, and still others are considering how to make sure they are adequately balancing their herd numbers in consideration with feed available.”
The consequences of the fire, for many, are still uncertain. Stevens realized on weighing the animals he shipped last week that they’re lighter than he expected. As his cattle climbed the ramp into the truck, he noted that this was the fifth time they’d been in a truck this year.
Despite the challenges, Bill Long, a rancher and Stevens’ father-in-law, said after a morning of cattle wrangling that he, like a lot of people in this profession, relies on a “glass half full” mindset.
“In this business, you’ve got to have it,” he said. “Or you’re not going to make it, one way or another.”
The positives: the Long ranch didn’t lose any livestock in the blaze. Long and Stevens were able to bring cattle to pastures spared by the fire. Markets are more favorable than they have been in years past.
Post-shipping, after a celebratory Modelo and lunch, it was right back to work for Stevens and Long. The next day was devoted to pregnancy checks, which will start the calf-raising cycle over again.
For Welles, as crews erect a carefully chosen fireproof steel fence on their property, it comes with the hope that her family never has to live through something like this again. What’s been difficult, yet essential, she said, is avoiding overworking and maintaining a sense of normalcy, especially for her kids.
“You know, someday, we’ll look back and talk about the fire of ’24,” Welles said. “But you take a group of people who are already workaholics and have put their blood, sweat and tears into what they do, and you add a natural disaster on top of it, and it has kind of put everything into overdrive.”
This story was published on October 31, 2024.
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