Fort Benton, Montana - Last year 25 percent of our crew went to Montana. This year 75 percent of our crew went to Montana to harvest winter wheat, spring wheat, chick peas and lentils. They have been there for about ten days and have been harvesting full blast nearly every day.
The winter wheat has been averaging over 60 bushels an acre, 62 pounds and 13-14 percent protein. Sounds good to me! It took the crew three days to get all of the equipment from Western Nebraska up to Montana, so I hope they have the best of luck there and continue getting in some big days of harvesting!
Hardin, Montana - Things can get pretty dry in Montana in the summer. That doesn't sound like that unusual because a lot of places get dry. However, it takes on a different meaning when you're dealing with some of the desolate areas that make up the state. There aren't always the square north/south or east/west roads every mile or so like you find in some parts of the plains. If lightning strikes, and a fire starts, it's not always very easy to fight because of the very remote, and often rough terrain. Same can be true for a fire started by harvest equipment. The fields in the part of the world can be very large, I'm talking 1000+ acres. If a fire starts and blows through a field, the consequences can be devastating and extremely difficult to fight. Crews are often driven from the field for rain, but at this stop, the crews have been asked to shut down when the fire risk seems especially high, which is completely understandable. There are disastrous fires currently burning in the state.
Eastern Colorado - Due to a lack of urban centers, I'm guessing a lot of people would deem where we're currently cutting the middle of nowhere. It is true we are miles and miles from the nearest village or town, but despite all that, "I" would say we're in the middle of somewhere. That somewhere is beautiful. Brave little houses and farmsteads dot the landscape -- those few still willing to take on the unpredictable windswept prairie. Signs of days gone by are here too. I see the abandoned one-room school house and the occasional forgotten skeleton of a house that was once a happy home. Who were these people that once inhabited these spots, and what became of them? Song birds flutter on the breeze. The swish-swish of wheat and grass can be heard, and in the words of Louis Lamar, "The wind, always the wind." Cattle peacefully chew the grass. And the view... one can see for miles.
It's out here that there are few distractions. One can think out here, breathe out here, and just be. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky that I am to see these places that most rarely, if ever do. I have to think that a lot of the world's problems could be overcome if we just took a little R&R on the prairie to clear the air in our souls and minds.