Cow Road Trip "Up North!"

"Up North." Words that strike fear through the hearts of the Gordy's and Babes throughout the world.They know what we do; it's just a nicey nice  way of saying "off to the butcher, for YOU!" to a meat animal.

We don't raise pigs, since we don't eat any pork other than bacon. We do raise cattle. If I happened to know of any famous cows I'd have used them as an example so cut me some slack! ;p

Anyways: I just uploaded a video of our adventure. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqJ6YaycgPA

We're hobby farmers, remember. And a little bit Redneckish.  So we make do with whats we gots. In our case, that's a makeshift corral using tube gates that are not intended for crowing or herding large animals, and an old rickety horse trailer that could REALLY use a new coat of paint.

The video shows Mr. Redneck Hillbillies wielding the "Cow Taser" or "Shocker!" like a crazy lunatic, but that's not exactly the case. While the cattle prod did come in handy, it was used as a last resort when gentle tapping wasn't quite effective in giving the cows the message to "GIT in the Tray-Ler!" 

They had a short life, but a good life. Grazing on lush green pasture with almost daily treats from our vegetable garden. We treated them as gently and humanely as possible, right up to that last road trip.

They once were four.  Now they are hundreds of little brown packages.

Yummy... Yummy little brown packages.

Beef cattle = Expensive Lawnmowers.

Beef. We have no illusions about small farming. We now understand clearly why old time farmers are walking away from it. We don't do it to make money, which is a good thing because there isn't any money whatsoever to be made. Not doing it honestly anyways.  Our intentions were to put some lawnmowers on the field and sell what we could to end up with good quality meat for our freezer either free or at least much cheaper than what we could buy it for from SuperStore.

This year, we had to sell one whole animal, and three quarters of another animal just to cover the butchering costs. That doesn't include the milk replacer, the vaccinations,  the hay we had to buy when the field was looking lean or the molasses we used to encourage them to "eat up!"

Each year we take them in to be packaged we are shocked when it's time to go pick up our order. We look at three or four boxes with neatly wrapped steaks and roasts and one pound portions of ground beef and wonder how on God's green earth that big animal we had grazing in the backyard ended up looking like so little meat!

For the last couple of years we have sold our hormone free, grass fed, ultra-lean, baby beef by the 1/4 to friends who wanted some. Practically veal! It's premium meat, we figure. About as healthy as red meat can get, some of it is so pink it's nearly white like pork. 

Definately better than the old retired dairy cows they grind up and sell in the grocery store. Don't believe me? Go sit in on an auction and watch who buys the skin and bones animals that can barely walk - They'll grind it up, douse it in breading or wrap it in bacon, or drown it in marinade, put it in a pretty box, and market it as a "quick and easy meal" to harried housewives. Anyways, back to what I was saying.


 Each year  we agonize over whether the people buying from us will recognize the deal or feel ripped off.  The stress is almost not worth the hassle. These are great people that we have known for years and have  respect for. Surely they know we are honest people and that we do this almost as a favor to them. Yet still, we fret. We worry. We agonize.

Sigh. Next year maybe we'll do two small cattle in the front yard and try our hand at raising turkeys in the back instead.  Skip this whole selling beef by the side altogether and just throw whatever meat we grow in our own freezers. Who knows?

MMMeat!

If you've been reading any of my previous posts, you already know that we raise a few cattle on our pasture each year that end up in the freezer.  We recently emptied our pastures of the four small holstein calves and took them "up north" to cow heaven. Friday was the lucky day that our order was ready for pickup at the butcher's, and the day we got our first taste of our own farm raised steak in quite some time.

This is what they look like when they come back home. Two small animals came home in 8 cardboard boxes like this one. We've been using the same butcher each year and have been very happy with how the meat is processed and packaged.

Beef. MMMMeeat as we like to call it. We eat a TON of beef. Ok, so I exaggerate. But not by much!

There is nothing as tasty as baby beef steaks. Flash seared in a heavy cast iron pan with a little olive oil and montreal steak spice, and then oven roasted for a few minutes until it just has a hint of pink in the center. At least that's how we eat it. Whoever tells you meat from a dairy breed like a holstein is garbage is completely out to lunch.  Sure, maybe if it's a 6 yr old retired dairy cow after a hard life in a milking parlour like the majority of grocery store meat out there. Not when it comes to young calves less than a year old - it's practically veal.

We were warned that we'd have to slow cook it in a crockpot or it would be like gnawing on an old piece of shoe leather. Horse Puckey! (or rather... Cow Patties!) Those first few mouthfuls of round steak were fabulous - and tender as all get out.

Bon Apetit!

Empty Pastures

The last two cattle were loaded easily onto the trailer this morning, and the field is empty. The biggest brute "Oatmeal", and the smallest little heifer "Sassy" are happily munching away on hay and leaves from the brussel sprout plants in the trailer, completely unaware.

Just in time too - we have only 1/2 a bale of hay left and snow is dusting the mountaintops already. Winter is knocking on the door much too early this year!

We no longer have to doublecheck that the gate has been closed. I'm notorious for driving away and having to come back because I'm not entirely sure if it was latched properly. 9.9 times out of 10, it's perfectly fine. Some people worry about the coffee pot - I worry about the cattle gate. Trust me - seeing a few large animals wandering down the driveway  is enough to make anyone want to doublecheck. Triple check, even. 

Plus, now we can bring out our big boy motor toys and play on the dry days - the field makes a great motocross track as long as we don't tear it up and ruin next year's feeding ground.

Bye Bye Oatmeal and Sassy - Hello empty pasture!

"Up North!"

 Up north.

That's where we took "Ivan" and "Doug" this morning.

This was not our first trip to the abbatoire.  And it won't be our last.

Say it with me.... "Abbatoire"
 (Doesn't that make it sound romantic?)

They were loaded into the trailer, taken on a short drive down a sunny, meandering road, and unloaded into a holding pen where they await their fate tomorrow morning.  It is a day of mixed emotions for me. A mixture of sadness, anxiety, anticipation, and thankfulness for the sacrifice they do not realize they will be making.

  For 8 months we have watched them grow from playful little calves that sucked on our fingers learning how to drink from a bucket, to big lumbering oafs with no desire to move even a step or two more than is absolutely necessary. They entertained us and calmed us by just being there for us to watch from the comfort of our livingroom. They grew little horn buds, developed curly hairs on the tops of their heads, bulged and widened before our eyes to look less like cute calves and more like  "cows".  They sniffed and snuffled at us, and mooed  impatiently while we filled up their feed bins.

 There are times every now and then that I wonder why I am not a vegetarian. A day like today is one of them.  And then I bite into a juicy bbq'd steak and I remember why I am not.

  Each time is a little easier, but we're still faced with the knowledge that these animals give their lives so that we can fill our freezers and stuff our gullets with premium, lean, grass fed, hormone free young baby beef. 

Mmmm. Beef.

It's what's for dinner.

Last few meals

It's nearly time to send the first two cattle "up north". We're not entirely sure which two will take the trip first - more than likely the two larger steers: Ivan and Doug. They are the two with the white bands on thier shoulders. The small little heifer calf that never grew (Sassy) and the bull calf that we didn't steer (undescended testicle) will probably be the two given an extra week. Who knows. That could all change depending on how easily they are corralled and loaded into the trailer!


Yes, we name our cattle. Is that strange? "Blackie" was our first attempt at raising our own meat, and to be honest, I don't think I ever finished a meal without choking down the last few bites or handing it to the dogs. You go into this KNOWING they aren't pets, but the first few were still hard. Then we had White Foot, Black Foot, Lollipop, BJ, Stringboy, and Bucky. While we are learning what works and what doesn't, it really does help to know which ones were small, which ones had certain characteristics, steers/bulls/heifers etc. Each year we are given different challenges to deal with and sometimes the stress and anxiety of trying to save a calf is difficult. So far, we haven't lost a single animal, and the reward of knowing exactly what we are eating is worth it.





So it's nearly time to say goodbye to these fine cattle. The timing couldn't be better though, really. Our meat freezer is nearly empty and our supply of hay is dwindling. The pastures aren't doing so well after a very long, dry summer and with the cold weather coming it's time for the big mooheads to move on.

We tried to overwinter animals a few years back and it was definately NOT worth the hassle. Frozen water lines, cracking ice in the water bin when the heater couldn't keep up, trudging through snow on bitter cold mornings and brisk evenings to feed them day in and day out. I bet they didn't gain a pound despite our best efforts that winter - infact, I imagine they actually fell backwards so we were just throwing away money on feed and adding to our daily chores for nothing, really.

Our hearts grow heavy knowing their time is nearly up on this great green earth, since we've nurtured them for months now. At least they have had a truly exceptional life (though short) with plenty of pasture, treats of molasses, apples and garden produce, free of hormones, and spared the unneccessary pain of dehorning. To Ivan, Doug, Oatmeal and Sassy, we are thankful.