Final Reflections
November 2024

My goal for my apprenticeship was to learn about ranching from someone who was thinking about the future of the land, to get a solid ranching education from good land stewards, and see if I wanted to do it long term. I wanted to acquire skills that would be useful to me and any future endeavor I might undertake. I have been exposed to a lot — flood irrigating, fence maintenance, rotational grazing, moving and doctoring cattle, but I have learned much more within and outside of those tasks. 

It took me so long to learn this place — the names of the fields, how to get around in them, where the ditches are, the safe places to cross the bottomless streams in the hills, how to compensate for the shape of the loading wedge for the chute, which gates you actually can’t open on horseback, which headgates I need to bring a pry bar for, how to get every truck to start, where the big pothole is on the drive home from the hills, the names of these roads and the other ranches, the subtle accent the families in this area have, the local politics. Who is in favor of the windmills, who is against the mine, who owns that backhoe, oh the boys that hit my mailbox? They live up the street and work for the neighbor. I met a gentleman by the name of HW Boozer at the B Bar B shop and talked about him being a bouncer in Miami and how I loved clubbing when I lived there, and wouldn’t you know he used to work cows with the Pratts, he loved teasing Wendy about getting off her horse and walking behind the calves. He told me he sold his horses two years ago and couldn’t ride anymore and I think that is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard a man say. A few weeks later he had a heart attack and the Pratts went to his funeral. I learned the names of everyone’s dog and their style working cows (I also learned that if I keep cowboying, I’m gonna want my own dog, but I also learned that I can’t casually have a border collie least we drive each other insane). I befriended Myrtle (or “Myrt”), the shy young border collie that Mark and Wendy were working on. She went from running away from me for weeks to plastering herself to my legs when I let her out until I gave her a good scratch. I learned which neighbors to absolutely avoid talking to at all costs, and which ones were really nice.

I’ve learned how to use a wood stove, how I really don’t have the motivation to mow my own lawn. I learned how to wash my dishes sooner, and to accept that good food means dishes. I’ve realized how much ranchers can achieve because they have a partner at home supporting them, and how hard it is to go through this life without that. I’ve learned how to skin a calf and how to sweet talk a heifer into letting her calf suck. I’ve learned that happy cows taste great, that they beeline for bindweed when you open up the next section of polywire, that they’ll groom each other, that sometimes they remember one human kindness as a fresh calf and decide to become friendly, that Mark’s old cows are really quite something and know where every gate is, and the proper order of their pasture rotation. I’ve learned that it is easier to let nature clean a skull than trying to do it myself. I’ve learned how to avoid getting stuck in barbwire, that I really should lift my leg higher crossing it especially when I am wearing my expensive irrigating boots, that I need to keep my hair out of the way or I’ll lose it closing that one gate between the calving field and Mark and Wendy’s field. I’ve become familiar with my shovel, I figured out how to use it to carry one arm and the right angle to hold it at to catch the lip of the tin under the murky water. I learned which horses shouldn’t be next to each other in the trailer, that Jane will always calculate the perfect jump, that sometimes I need to give them their head and hold on. I learned that I should’ve held on harder to the tack room door on the trailer on that windy day but on second thought there should’ve been a bumper to keep it from breaking the window. I learned that my young horse was easy to start because of her nonchalant attitude, but will be hard to finish for the same reason. I witnessed how much fire is too much when it comes to burning ditch, how the wind is both a friend and an enemy. I learned how heavy tumbleweeds are when they are wet, and how horrible unplugging an irrigation pipe full of them is. I have gone on missions to eradicate houndstongue, rush skeletonweed, knapweed, scotch thistle, puncturevine, leafy spurge; I’ve felt overwhelmed by how entrenched they are in this ecosystem and no matter how hard we fight, if the neighbors don’t do anything too we will keep being infested. 

I learned that it takes a lifetime to learn everything, and yet I feel like I’ve started too late. It’s all so rooted in the context of the place, and I don’t know where my place is yet. So much is only relevant to this ranch, but the experiences will carry me onwards to be built upon. As Mark would say, “experience is cheap, no matter the cost” (or, typically said when handing me a piece of rusty wire he’s picked up from the ground, “this will be useful when you start your own ranch one day!”) 

I think the biggest highlight of my apprenticeship was trailing our herd of cows and calves to the hills for the summer, some 40 odd miles away from the valley land over the course of a week. We navigated houses, cyclists, semi-trucks, the temptations of grain fields; I dodged pivot sprinklers, jumped so much sage (thanks Charlie Horse!), scaled some sketchy hills, skirted canyon edges, and flushed calves from the aspen groves. It took a village to get butts in saddles, calves going uphill for the last push of the day, meals in tummies, and to keep the horse trailers leapfrogging along behind us. This was usually accomplished with a toddler in one hand by some incredible and inspiring ranch women! 

A big challenge for me was living alone. I’ve always had roommates (besides the occasional month-long house sitting stint), and the quiet of my house was frequently too much for me. The switch to cattle ranching from the communal and constantly buzzing service industry was a bit shocking. To compensate I was either constantly playing a podcast or video chatting my family and friends, which I am extremely grateful is a possibility with modern technology; but I think I would’ve felt more settled with another living being in my house. (Perhaps it is time for me to get a dog!) Although I was lonely, I did not feel alone, the weekly unwind calls hosted by a rotating cast of NAP staff helped me feel connected to my peers and know that most of us were feeling the same way. My cohort is filled by amazing people that inspire me and reassure me, and it was nice to laugh about silly, small things, commiserate over our failures, compare the different ranches’ methodologies, and help each other fill in the gaps in our education.

Regarding my next steps, I am hopefully heading to Tyler, Texas this winter to spend some time living with friends, recharging my soul, and rebuilding my bank account. I don’t have any plans for next year yet, but I want to keep learning from a variety of sources and get more exposure to different types of ranching. 

How did you get interested in agriculture? And what are you hoping to gain from your apprenticeship?
May 2024

I didn’t grow up in a family that was very interested in agriculture, but it was all around us. I think my gateway into agriculture was a fierce obsession with horses by the time I was two. My love of horses evolved into a love of all animals when I attended a Monterssori style farm camp. I rode my whole life, but I always loved farms and being around animals. I thought I wanted to be a vet, so I went to college and realized that I am not cut out for science classes. I switched my major to Environmental Studies, and during a 101 class, we took a field trip to a dairy farm, where I spent the whole trip convincing my friends to pet the calves and try milking the cows. The owner offered me a job, and I ended up working as a calf feeder for three years. The disconnect between what I saw from the farmer I worked with and what we were learning in class really got me interested in learning more about how the agricultural system works in our world. I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to live for a semester in Montespertoli, Italy, where we visited a multitude of farms while studying UN Ag policy and the history of Italian agriculture. After I graduated, I wanted to have one fun summer before I got my life together, so I ended up working on a guest ranch in Jackson Hole as a wrangler. One summer turned into 5, and I ended up managing the horse herd my last season. My experience in Wyoming brought me to love the mountain west, but made me very aware of how much I needed to learn about ranching!

I started thinking more about my future and had been having a strong urge to live in one place for longer than six months, so when I found the NAP Program I was overjoyed – here is an opportunity to build my skills and my knowledge from someone that cares about the planet and their animals! I have many hopes for my apprenticeship. I am hoping to grow my toolbox for my marketability, but also for my own personal life and my future home. I am hoping to grow my confidence in myself so I get less “start paralysis” when faced with new challenges (and I am already seeing that!) I hope to learn more about grass, vetting, stockmanship, horsemanship, how cattle drives work, challenges of rangeland grazing, and so much more. I want to be considerably more fluent in cattle (I am at the point when I can immediately feel that I messed up communicating with them but I would like to skip that step in the future). I’m looking forward to learning about the things I don’t even know exist yet! I am also hoping that I am always able to find the fun in daily tasks.

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