From the Fields

We graze on a combination of Forest Service allotments and private timberland leases. From the beginning, we were monitoring the Dixie Fire to try to get a handle on the direction, try to stay ahead, but the fire blew up. At first it affected neighbors of ours to the west. Then all of a sudden it was coming our way at a rapid pace, and we had to scramble. We had cattle scattered all over the very northern part of that fire east of Lassen Volcanic National Park in Plumas and Lassen counties.

Aug. 2 is when we knew it was coming our way. My husband, Wally, has been out in the fire since last week. He's out every day driving through fire trying to gather cattle. Some of the cattle that he couldn't bring out were in a really nice meadow that the fire had already gone past, because it was wet enough and the grass was green and tall enough that it didn't bother the cattle at all. There's been no harm to the cattle. The good thing is we didn't wait. We were looking ahead.

The good thing about this fire that's on our land—which is so different than what other people experienced—is that most of it has been what we call good fire. It's cleaning up the crud—all the down trees and the brush—and so far no crown fires, none of that highly destructive stuff. That doesn't mean it couldn't change on a dime, but right now, the good thing about where we are is there was enough thinning. We have some private timber people up above us that keep their land cleared and in better shape. All the Forest Service land is so thick and so ridden with down trees that have been there for decades that you can't get through there with a horse; you can't get through there with a four-wheeler. Those are the places that burn the hottest.

Wally will be in the fires for at least another week. He's keeping an eye on the cattle, figuring out where they're going. We already got three and a half loads down. I think there's about a load and a half out there. When they're scattered all over 60,000 acres, they're not real easy to find.

When he brings them home, I have to feed them. Because of the drought, we sent only half of our cattle up to the mountains to begin with. We're experiencing the worst year we've had since the '76 drought. It's very dry up there.

Down here, it looks a bit like a ballpark. We saved some feed down here for fall when the cattle come down. They're existing on what I give them. I have to buy hay. Right now, I'm blowing through $14,000 a week, and the cost is going to get a lot higher.

It's a problem for everybody in this market not being able to sell their cattle. We'll make our decision sometime, but for right now, we're going to keep our cattle and keep feeding them as long as we can find feed. They are in good condition. We're very lucky. A lot of times we wouldn't turn the cattle out on the meadow because the wolves were everywhere, and they ruined our grazing. They made it so we couldn't use the allotments. This year we had no choice because we had no feed, so Wally started taking little bunches at a time up in these areas that are now burning, where the feed was just spectacular. Those areas have not been grazed for at least three years because the wolves kept the cattle out.