Thoughts from the road….
When I woke up this morning, I dreaded the day. I had a lot of miles ahead of me and I was inspecting two ranches. It has been so dry and windy in New Mexico, that I knew it was going to be a long day. The wind, the pollen, and the smoke from the fires were wreaking havoc on my respiratory system. Over a half of a million acres have already burned in New Mexico and our typical fire season doesn’t even start until June 1. Glumly I packed a bag, lots of water, some beef jerky, my notebook, and a camera. I set out in my little grey F150. Sometimes I think I spend more time in this truck than anywhere else.
I stopped to fuel up in Carrizozo and the wind was already so bad it blew my glasses off. Not a great start to the day. As I drove north to the first property near Corona, my mood brightened. I purposely played some 70’s rock, which always makes me feel good. You can’t help but sing along with Stevie Nicks, or tap the steering wheel along with Bob Seger’s Night Moves. I marveled at the antelope with their new babies, surviving through such harsh conditions.
As I turned off the highway to the county road, I noticed the differences in the pastures and realized these ranchers made decisions last fall to leave some forage in light of the dire precipitation forecast. I think back to the stories Grandma Thomas told of growing up in this country. Many ranches in this area are generational.
Pauline Thomas was born in Torrance County, NM- two years after statehood. The family still owns portions of the land her father homesteaded in 1909. They grew dry land pinto beans and ran cattle. In the 50’s during the drought, they sold the Hereford cattle and bought Holsteins for a dairy farm. Grandma Thomas lived through wars, years of drought and was widowed at 59. She continued to ranch and take care of the land well into her 80’s.
Thinking now of all the conveniences we have to help us do our daily chores, I’m abashed about my complaining. I can hear my grandmother’s gentle scolding about making the best of what we have. I know I have generations of strength behind me. I don’t have to get up and milk the cows before I had cream in my coffee. I have air conditioning and radio to help keep me comfortable as I flew down the road at 65 miles an hour. I have different struggles, but I won’t quit. I hope to be here when I’m 80 - spending the better part of the day out on the land I love.
