Farm & Ranch
Tracks in the Sand
This morning, I walked out into my arena and noticed something that gave me pause. The roping steers had been in there the day before, and even though the ground was wide and level, the sand carried their story. Hoofprints crossed every direction, but in several spots, the same trail was pressed deeper than the rest. Twelve steers had been turned out, yet more than a few chose the exact same path, wearing it down until it stood out from all the other tracks.
Cattle are creatures of habit. Anyone who has spent time around them knows this. They like routine: the same feed, the same water trough, the same shade tree in the pasture. When they are turned loose, they rarely wander without purpose. More often than not, they move together, following the same course as the steer in front of them. There are reasons for this: efficiency, safety, instinct. Walking a beaten path conserves energy, and following the herd is their natural defense. Even in an arena with no real destination, those instincts come through. By the end of a short turnout, you will see the evidence, lines where they have chosen the easiest way to travel and stuck with it.
Out on the range, those lines last longer. Before fences and highways, cattle drives cut deep paths across the land. The Chisholm Trail, which carried herds north from Texas through Oklahoma into Kansas, was walked by millions of cattle in the late 1800s. More than a century later, faint traces of those trails remain, worn so deep by hooves and wagon wheels that the land still carries the mark. On ranches today, you can see the same effect in pastures where cattle walk the same lines between water and grazing. From the ground those trails might look like nothing more than dusty ruts, but from the air, they sometimes stand out as sharp lines winding through otherwise open fields. Cattle do not simply pass over the land; they shape it. Every step adds up.
That simple truth extends beyond livestock. We all make tracks. Our habits and routines are our trails, worn in by repetition, sometimes efficient, sometimes limiting. Like the cow paths, they can serve a purpose, keeping us steady and helping us move forward. But when repeated without thought, they risk becoming ruts, keeping us from stepping into new ground. History offers perspective here too. The old cattle trails built towns and economies, but once railroads and fences changed the landscape, those paths were no longer useful. Sticking to them would have meant going in circles. Progress required something new.
The Tracks We Leave
Standing in the arena, I thought about the kind of tracks I leave behind. Most of mine are not visible in the dirt. They are pressed into my daily life, how I work, the way I handle challenges, the example I set. Some are helpful and worth keeping. Others may have outlived their purpose. The difference comes in knowing when to stay in the track and when to step out of it.
Tomorrow I will drag the arena and smooth it all clean again. The next time the steers are turned in, they will make the same trails. That is their nature. But unlike them, I have a choice. I can decide which paths are worth walking, which ones to change, and what kind of tracks I want to leave for others who might follow.
Tracks tell a story. Sometimes they are only temporary, fading with the next rain. Other times they last for generations, reminders of where herds and people once walked. This morning, the cattle showed me again that even the smallest things on the ranch carry meaning. Their tracks in the arena were not just marks in the sand. They were a lesson: every step matters, and the paths we choose shape more than just the ground beneath our feet.
Farm & Ranch
Changing the Way We Handle Hay
Few machines have reshaped livestock operations as much as the round baler. Before its arrival, haymaking was slow, labor-intensive, and limited by the storage and handling of small square bales. The round baler mechanized the process, producing large rolls that could be handled with tractors instead of back-breaking labor. Today, those big bales are a familiar sight across Oklahoma, Texas, and much of the world, stacked along fence lines or dotting pastures.
The modern round baler traces back to the mid-20th century. While early versions of hay-rolling machines appeared in Europe in the 1940s and 1950s, it was a man from Iowa who brought the design into practical use in America. In 1971, Vermeer Corporation, led by Gary Vermeer, introduced the first large round baler that could be mass-produced and widely adopted. His design gathered hay into a chamber, rolled it into a tight cylindrical package, and then wrapped it with twine before ejecting it onto the ground.
This solved a long-standing bottleneck. Small square bales required enormous labor — lifting, stacking, hauling, and feeding by hand. One person with a tractor and round baler could do in hours what once took a crew all day. The new bales were weather-resistant, stored easily outdoors, and reduced spoilage. They also fit well with the larger scale of modern cattle operations.
By the 1980s, other manufacturers such as John Deere, New Holland, and Case IH offered their own models. Improvements included variable chamber sizes, better pickup systems, and stronger tying methods. Round balers quickly became the standard for beef and dairy producers in Oklahoma, Texas, and beyond.
Though models vary, the principle remains the same. The baler picks up cut hay from the windrow and feeds it into a chamber with belts, rollers, or chains. As the hay circulates, it rolls into a tight cylinder. Once the bale reaches the set size — often 4×5 or 5×6 feet, weighing between 800 and 1,200 pounds — the machine stops feeding, and the bale is wrapped for storage.
The result is a dense, weather-resistant package that can be moved with a tractor spear or loader. Unlike small square bales that require dry storage, round bales can be stacked outdoors, especially when wrapped correctly.
The biggest evolution in round baling since its invention has been the way bales are bound. Early machines used only twine, usually sisal or synthetic. Twine is inexpensive and reliable, but it has drawbacks. Wrapping a bale with twine can take up to two minutes, slowing production. Twine also leaves more exposed surface area, allowing moisture to penetrate and spoil hay.
Net wrap was introduced in the 1990s as a solution. Made of high-strength polyethylene, it wraps the bale quickly — usually in 10 to 20 seconds — and covers more surface area. This tighter, more uniform wrap sheds water better and reduces spoilage, especially for bales stored outside. Net-wrapped bales also hold their shape better, making them easier to stack and transport.
Producers must weigh cost against efficiency. Net wrap is more expensive than twine, both in material and in required equipment, but many ranchers find the savings in time and hay quality worth the investment. Twine remains common for operations feeding hay quickly or storing it under cover, while net wrap dominates in large-scale or commercial setups.
In recent years, bale film wrap has also entered the market. Similar to plastic used in silage, film wrap can seal bales almost completely, reducing spoilage even further. While more expensive, it is gaining ground in wet climates and dairies where feed quality is critical.
The round baler is more than a machine — it changed the rhythm of haymaking. Producers can now harvest, bale, and store hundreds of tons of hay with a fraction of the labor once required. In regions like Oklahoma and North Texas, where cattle herds are large and hay is often stored outdoors, round balers became indispensable.
The machine also influenced land use. With the ability to bale quickly and efficiently, ranchers could harvest larger fields and manage forage with precision. It also reduced dependence on hired labor during peak hay season, a major benefit as rural populations declined.
While square balers still have their place — especially for horse hay and small-scale operations — round bales remain the workhorse of modern cattle ranching.
From its introduction in the 1970s to its widespread adoption today, the round baler has proven to be one of the most influential farm inventions of the last century. It solved the labor bottleneck of haymaking, improved storage and feed efficiency, and fit seamlessly into the mechanization of modern agriculture.
Whether wrapped in twine, net, or film, those big round bales are more than just scenery on a country road. They are symbols of an innovation that continues to save time, labor, and feed across ranch country. Like the steel plow, barbed wire, and windmill, the round baler is an invention that permanently changed the way we work the land.
References
Vermeer Corporation. History of the Round Baler. https://www.vermeer.com
John Deere Equipment. Hay and Forage History. https://www.deere.com
Oklahoma State University Extension. Hay Storage and Preservation.
Texas A&M AgriLife Extension. Net Wrap vs. Twine for Round Bales.
Farm Progress. “Round Balers: The Machine That Changed Haymaking.”
Farm & Ranch
Lotebush – Nature’s Quail House
By Tony Dean
Although of little livestock grazing value, this spiny bush has a place in North Texas grazing lands. Probably the most important use of Lotebush is that it is an almost perfect “quail house”. The thorny overhead provides protection from aerial predators like hawks, but the open view at ground level allows quail to see if other predators are approaching.
Lotebush is a native perennial shrub that can grow up to seven feet in height and width. The smooth bark can have dark and light gray patches. The zigzag twigs support greenish stout spines up to three inches long with a dark sharp pointed tip. The small leaves are bluish to grayish green.
Lotebush is in the Buckhorn family and has many other common names, including Condalia, Blue-thorn, Chaparral Bush, Texas Buckthorn, Chaparral Prieto, and Abrojo. The name Condalia is derived from Antonio Condal, a Spanish physician. The roots have been used as a soap substitute, and as a treatment for wounds and sores of domestic animals.
Livestock occasionally browse on new tender growth, especially after a fire, and this sometimes results in mouth soreness in the grazing animal due to the sharp thorns on Lotebush. Lotebush provides fair browsing value for deer. Crude protein level has been tested at 18 to 24 percent in spring, 15 to 20 percent through summer and fall, and 12 to 15 percent in winter.
The small black fruit, about 3/8 inch in diameter, usually ripens in July. It is eaten by quail, turkey, coyotes, small mammals, and many song birds.
Some birds, like the Cactus Wren, will nest in this plant. The Cactus Wren is the largest wren in North America. It lives year round in drier areas of southwestern states and Northern Mexico. It is a true bird of the desert and can survive without standing water. It is very aggressive in protecting its nest.
Lotebush is adapted to clay soils and limestone soils and grows in most areas of the state except extreme East Texas. It also grows in Arizona, New Mexico, and Northern Mexico.
When it is not in dense stands, Lotebush should be protected when planning brush control as it can be a valuable part of our wildlife management efforts. It often appears on areas in the pasture where grass is rather thin, so we are not giving up much grazing production by leaving a few plants. If desired, it can be controlled mechanically or chemically with certain ground-applied chemicals.
Birds and small mammals that feed on our grazing lands often deposit seeds in their droppings from other plants under the canopy of Lotebush. If these seeds germinate, Lotebush can serve as a “protective skeleton” to prevent grazing or browsing on these new plants. Some of these protected plants might be otherwise totally grazed out of a pasture due to preference by livestock or wildlife, so at least we can preserve a seed source within the spiny protection of our Lotebush plants.
Lotebush will root sprout when top killed by fire, but it will take a decade for a plant to again become adequate cover for quail. A plant or group of plants about the size of a pickup works best for quail cover.
Farm & Ranch
Texans Love Chili
By Martha Crump
Ask any red-blooded, dyed-in-the-wool Texan what constitutes good “cool weather food,” and the top five answers will always include chili! Do not—and I will repeat this advice—do not enter into any debate regarding whether or not beans should be found in real chili (although a true connoisseur will tell you they do not!). You will get as many different points of view as there are recipes out there as to what constitutes perfect chili, and honestly, as long as those recipes don’t include fake meat or ground turkey, I’m of the opinion that you should cook it however you personally like it.
As I am writing this article for October at the end of August, it has turned a bit cooler as a very early, mild little front is moving through the area. Cooler weather always makes me look forward to those favorite recipes we can’t wait to cook. This is Texas, of course, and you never know what the weather will do through the fall. I remember seasons where it stayed hot until Christmas, and others where I observed record snowfalls in October. But I can guarantee that when the colder temps do arrive, chili will be on the menu at our house, accompanied by a steaming hot cast iron skillet of homemade cornbread. It is truly a Texas thing, y’all!
Ironically, while also attempting some decluttering, I came across an email sent to me over 20 years ago, and it was about chili. Not believing in coincidences and not one to waste an opportunity, I’m sharing a bit of old chili humor. The reason this struck home was that it reminded me of something that really happened to a dear girlfriend of mine.
I have a delightful British friend named Kyle, whom I was fortunate enough to meet while she and her husband were stationed at Shepherd AFB in Wichita Falls. As she and I were visiting my folks down in the Texas Hill Country, we had an opportunity to go to a sanctioned chili competition. This would be her first experience with a cook-off.
Being a petite blonde bombshell with a sharp wit and a killer accent, she stood right out in the redneck crowd when we were getting our tickets to sample the goods. By then I was used to everything taking extra time, as everyone wanted to hear more of her accent, so I settled in for the conversation that I knew would follow.
A good 15 minutes later it was established that not only had she never been to a chili cook-off, but that she had no preconceived expectations of what made the best chili. Apparently, judges with a clean slate and no personal chili recipes are a hot commodity. And, as luck would have it, they were short one judge.
Being a gal that seizes life by the horns (I think she was a Texan in her past life), of course she readily agreed, and our day was off to a great start! The rest I’ll leave to the imagination of the reader, but suffice it to say it was a delightful day, full of explanations regarding Texans, Texas slang, Texas customs, Texas behavior, and generally all things redneck.
Later, when I received the chili joke email from a cousin, I thought immediately of Kyle and her brief stint as a chili cook-off judge. Please note that Kyle is not a beer drinker, so as her translator, I volunteered my services. Yes, the names on the joke were changed by me, and as with so many things on the worldwide web, the author is unknown. But whoever it was, this is too true for them not to have had at least some personal insight! Who knows, they just might have witnessed a Texan and a Brit at a chili cook-off!
Notes From an Inexperienced Chili Taster Named KYLE
“Recently I was honored to be selected, as an Outstanding Famous Celebrity in Texas (an English foreigner), to be a judge at a chili cook-off. The original judge called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judges’ table asking directions to the beer wagon when the call came in. I also suspect that everyone else knew better than to volunteer. I was assured by the other two judges that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy, and besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted this as one of those fun things you endure when you’re a visitor from England.
Here are the scorecards from the cook-off:
Chili #1: Mike’s Maniac Mobster Monster Chili
JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
KYLE: Holy smokes, what is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it! Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy.
Chili #2: Arthur’s Afterburner Chili
JUDGE ONE: Smoky (barbecue?) with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeño tang.
JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
KYLE: Keep this out of reach of children! I’m not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. Shoved my way to the front of the beer line. The bartender looks like a professional wrestler after a bad night. He was so irritated over my gagging sounds that the snake tattoo under his eye started to twitch. He has arms like Popeye and a face like Winston Churchill. I will attempt to NOT offend him in any way.
Chili #3: Fred’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili
JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.
JUDGE TWO: A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.
KYLE: This has got to be a joke. Call the EPA, I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I’ve been sneezing drain cleaner. Everyone knew the routine by now and got out of my way so I could make it to the beer wagon. The bartender pounded me on the back; now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. He said his friends call him “Ted.” Probably behind his back they call him “Tank.”
Chili #4: Bubba’s Black Magic Chili
JUDGE ONE: Black beans with almost no spice, and no sign of meat. Disappointing.
JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Might be acceptable as a side dish for fish or other mild foods, but not a real chili.
KYLE: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Ted was standing behind me with fresh refills so I wouldn’t have to dash over to see him. When he winked at me his snake sort of coiled and uncoiled… My eyes are watering, but I think it’s kinda cute.
Chili #5: Linda’s Legal Lip Remover
JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
KYLE: My ears are ringing and I can no longer focus my eyes. I belched and four people in front of me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed hurt when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Ted saved my tongue by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. Sort of irritates me that one of the other judges asked me to stop screaming.
Chili #6: Vera’s Very Vegetarian Variety
(Judges’ rules state entries with no meat do not qualify; Vera is 80, so judges accommodated her by tasting. Thank you Lord! Relief from flaming meat.)
JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian chili. No meat, but good balance of spice and peppers.
JUDGE TWO: Very good flavors. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb for meatless.
KYLE: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous flames. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except Ted. I asked if he wants to go dancing later.
Chili #7: Susan’s Screaming Sensation Chili
JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
JUDGE TWO: Ho-hum. Tastes as if the cook threw in canned chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge Number 3. She appears to be in a bit of distress.
KYLE: You could put a hand grenade in my mouth and pull the pin and I wouldn’t feel it. I’ve lost the sight in one eye and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My clothes are covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth at some point. Good! At autopsy they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing. It’s too painful and I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just let it in through the hole in my stomach.
Chili #8: Helen’s Mount Saint Chili
JUDGE ONE: This final entry is a good, balanced chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge Number 3 collapsed and pulled the chili pot on top of herself.
JUDGE TWO: A perfect ending. This is a nice blend chili, safe for all, not too bold but nicely spicy enough to declare its existence.
KYLE: Mum? Is that you?!? Where am I???
Please enjoy your cold-weather chili responsibly!
The next meeting of the WFACW organization will be on October 15th at The Forum, 2120 Speedway, Wichita Falls, TX. Members attending the midday meeting are welcome to bring their lunch and enjoy eating and visiting starting at 11:30, followed by the business meeting at 12:00 noon.
September and October kick off membership recruitment for the Wichita Falls Cattlewomen. We invite anyone interested in promoting beef to please join us for the meeting. You can check us out on Facebook as well, where meeting times, events, humorous glimpses of agri-life, and industry information are constantly being posted. We are very involved in our community as well as with our state and beyond in supporting beef cattle production, and education about all things “Beef”! The best part is, you don’t even have to own cattle to be involved.
Now’s the time to check us out. And I promise, while we won’t serve you chili at the meeting, there’s always lunch afterward—where we will make fun of you if you order anything of the “fowl” variety.
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