How does the rancher effectively balance use with available resource?
Guest post by Clemson Montana Summer Program student Brett Jenkinson
After the start of our second unit, it’s becoming increasingly evident to me that answers to problems on the plains are about as plentiful as the ponderosa pines that scarcely dot the landscape. In other words, not plentiful at all. At our first stop on Friday, June 9, professors “Bak and Jim” were extremely insightful. They emphasized that managing rangeland, wildlife, and livestock is based on resources that are finite, which may seem obvious, but I don’t think I really appreciated the scope of it before. Bak also told us that precipitation dictates almost every output that a rangeland yields, which led him to the point that every single resource on the range is going to grow a certain amount, no more. Forages aren’t as plentiful as the stars that paint the sky above them; they can be very hard to come by and precious when they become available. On the range, this can mean a lot of things. It can mean that your herd might not get the nutrition and food intake that it needs in a bad year, and unless you have stockpiled feed, there’s not much you can do about it except watch yourself lose money. It can also affect the likelihood of wildlife coming onto the a rancher’s range which will likely create additional friction between the two and another problem that ranchers don’t need.
Just after this point, Bak posed the million-dollar question that, to me, appears to be at the heart of all range management: How does the rancher effectively balance use with available resource? And the answer, I learned, is extremely carefully and painstakingly. The simplified equation he gave us to calculate carrying capacity of a range, which I was previously unaware of, takes into account space, usage, percent body weight consumption, and time spent grazing, among other factors. Like other sciences, “It isn’t perfect. It isn’t necessarily even right most of the time,” but, Bak stressed, “it’s a place to start.” And you have to start somewhere. This opened my eyes to the concept that every year is different, every month is different, and every range is different, which Jim explained well. A ranch manager can’t just use a formula and expect results. It requires rigorous trial and error with the very real possibility of failure to see which rates work for your land and your herd. As Bak articulated, “It’s really difficult as a scientist to give the answer of, ‘It depends.’ But, really, it depends.”
From this information, I gained an even greater appreciation for the ranch lifestyle. The relationship that a manager has with his land takes years to develop. It may take decades to master. And just when this apparent mastering is reached, maybe rainfall can shift to one or two less inches per year for a stretch of years. What do you do now? I’m not so sure I’d be able to come up with an answer, and I find it remarkable that ranchers can scramble to find one for the sake of their livelihoods.
Mark Peterson of the Fort Keogh USDA Research Facility further upheld this suspicion of mine. He informed us of the various issues that ranchers come to him solely about water, and the manner in which they approach it: They meet with a focus group once a year that come to the facility and propose problems that they want to be researched. I thought that this was a positive way of not only researching problems that ranchers experience first-hand, but to build and solidify the relationship between traditional ranchers and modern government research scientist, which have not always paired well.
Ranch managers stare the possibility of failure dead in the eyes every season. Every season, nothing is guaranteed. Their lifestyle could turn on them and cost them everything they’ve worked for in an extremely short period of time. But, the professors illustrated that knowing how to properly manage important aspects of a range can reduce these possibilities and increase the chances of effectively dealing with certain hardships that could arise and therefore make it through to the next year, to survive and advance to have a better following year.
In the following days after listening to the professors, even activities like driving between destinations on the highway become reflective. With this new knowledge, I feel almost obligated to ponder about the managing that goes on with every ranch we pass. Every one that we zip by now has its own owner, its own unique landscape, and its own unique yields that I can visualize in my head. I envision managers surveying their forages and researching expected rainfall amounts; I can practically feel the uncertainty at the beginning of the season. Now, Montana ranches aren’t just “the range” to me. Each is its own separate outlook, like a unique fingerprint that each rancher leaves the impression of for years to come.
After the start of our second unit, it’s becoming increasingly evident to me that answers to problems on the plains are about as plentiful as the ponderosa pines that scarcely dot the landscape. In other words, not plentiful at all. At our first stop on Friday, June 9, professors “Bak and Jim” were extremely insightful. They emphasized that managing rangeland, wildlife, and livestock is based on resources that are finite, which may seem obvious, but I don’t think I really appreciated the scope of it before. Bak also told us that precipitation dictates almost every output that a rangeland yields, which led him to the point that every single resource on the range is going to grow a certain amount, no more. Forages aren’t as plentiful as the stars that paint the sky above them; they can be very hard to come by and precious when they become available. On the range, this can mean a lot of things. It can mean that your herd might not get the nutrition and food intake that it needs in a bad year, and unless you have stockpiled feed, there’s not much you can do about it except watch yourself lose money. It can also affect the likelihood of wildlife coming onto the a rancher’s range which will likely create additional friction between the two and another problem that ranchers don’t need.
Just after this point, Bak posed the million-dollar question that, to me, appears to be at the heart of all range management: How does the rancher effectively balance use with available resource? And the answer, I learned, is extremely carefully and painstakingly. The simplified equation he gave us to calculate carrying capacity of a range, which I was previously unaware of, takes into account space, usage, percent body weight consumption, and time spent grazing, among other factors. Like other sciences, “It isn’t perfect. It isn’t necessarily even right most of the time,” but, Bak stressed, “it’s a place to start.” And you have to start somewhere. This opened my eyes to the concept that every year is different, every month is different, and every range is different, which Jim explained well. A ranch manager can’t just use a formula and expect results. It requires rigorous trial and error with the very real possibility of failure to see which rates work for your land and your herd. As Bak articulated, “It’s really difficult as a scientist to give the answer of, ‘It depends.’ But, really, it depends.”
From this information, I gained an even greater appreciation for the ranch lifestyle. The relationship that a manager has with his land takes years to develop. It may take decades to master. And just when this apparent mastering is reached, maybe rainfall can shift to one or two less inches per year for a stretch of years. What do you do now? I’m not so sure I’d be able to come up with an answer, and I find it remarkable that ranchers can scramble to find one for the sake of their livelihoods.
Mark Peterson of the Fort Keogh USDA Research Facility further upheld this suspicion of mine. He informed us of the various issues that ranchers come to him solely about water, and the manner in which they approach it: They meet with a focus group once a year that come to the facility and propose problems that they want to be researched. I thought that this was a positive way of not only researching problems that ranchers experience first-hand, but to build and solidify the relationship between traditional ranchers and modern government research scientist, which have not always paired well.
Ranch managers stare the possibility of failure dead in the eyes every season. Every season, nothing is guaranteed. Their lifestyle could turn on them and cost them everything they’ve worked for in an extremely short period of time. But, the professors illustrated that knowing how to properly manage important aspects of a range can reduce these possibilities and increase the chances of effectively dealing with certain hardships that could arise and therefore make it through to the next year, to survive and advance to have a better following year.
In the following days after listening to the professors, even activities like driving between destinations on the highway become reflective. With this new knowledge, I feel almost obligated to ponder about the managing that goes on with every ranch we pass. Every one that we zip by now has its own owner, its own unique landscape, and its own unique yields that I can visualize in my head. I envision managers surveying their forages and researching expected rainfall amounts; I can practically feel the uncertainty at the beginning of the season. Now, Montana ranches aren’t just “the range” to me. Each is its own separate outlook, like a unique fingerprint that each rancher leaves the impression of for years to come.