Ranching For Water, Ranching For Life
By Tad Cooke
Driving west from Idaho Falls, the Pioneer Mountains are an arid backdrop of sagebrush hills rising to bare talus and rock. Although it is not far as the crow flies, these hills feel far away from the Idaho that harvests 32% of the country’s barley and sells 271 million pounds of potatoes to McDonald’s every year. At first sight, it is a harsh landscape. To the south, Craters of the Moon is an open, impassible lava field, a National Monument half the size of Rhode Island. To the north is rangeland, dry fields and steppe— cattle country made arable only by mountain snowmelt that coaxes alive thousands of alfalfa fields through aging wheel lines and newer irrigation pivots.
Turn off the two-lane highway, though, and the temperature drops with each dusty, washboarded mile north. From the flat irrigated fields into the foothills, a fractal landscape of creeks and drainages unfolds ahead.
An evening sunset over the ranch.
Tad, Morgan and Brian look over a map of the grazing allotments.
This is our first glimpse at the masterwork of Lava Lake Lamb, a working ranch and conservation project in Carey, Idaho. From the back of the pickup truck, through the first gates of the home paddocks, past the lambing sheds and a restored reservoir, the ranch road winds up the drainage, a chaperone to the green ribbon of the stream. Our road soon surrenders to the sagebrush, and we continue on foot.
We are here to work with the Bean family, owners and stewards of Lava Lake Lamb for the last twenty years. Lava Lake has been working ranch land for over a century, in a landscape inhabited by indigenous people since the last ice age 12,000-14,000 years ago. Over the last two thousand years, the Shoshone and Bannock people migrated through these valleys, following deer and pronghorn, and harvesting food and medicine from many of the common plants seen at Craters of the Moon. Named for a rare open water body formed by a dam of molten lava at the south end of the property, Lava Lake has been working ranch land for over a century. Today, the ranch is over 24,000 acres of deeded land and 770,000+ acres of public grazing allotments. It extends from the Snake River Plain desert south of the ranch to the nearly 12,000 feet high peaks of the Boulder and Pioneer Mountains. With over 17,000 acres permanently protected by conservation easement and over 78,000 acres of certified organic pasture and rangelands, it is home to one of the premier 100% grass-fed wild range lamb operations in the country.
As Brian and Kathleen Bean lead us up the drainage, we see the land through their eyes. Alpine lupine is a deep, gentle plum purple against the sage. Indian paintbrush bursts out in sunset peach and bright red. Pale green horse mint brushes our boots, its sweet scent wafting around us, while the white corn lily flowers play host to their own village of ants and pollinators. A young crane calls out across the meadow, and we stop to sample wild currants, their hardy bushes readily colonizing the hardpack of a former dirt road.
Brian shares with Meriwether some of the ecological changes that the Beans have observed during their many years of managing the land with conservation grazing practices.
Unbeknownst from the highway, this land is ecologically rich and diverse. Elk and pronghorn are prolific here, and over 100 bird species have been recorded across the ranch. Keystone species are on the rise including wolf, black bear, and mountain lion.
This diversity is no mistake, nor is it commonplace. The gentle descent of the stream, shaded by alder and flanked by aspen, the ingress of successional plants, the extensive birds and pollinators – it has taken tremendous care and effort to restore these natural systems. While many large livestock herds gradually degrade riparian landscapes for their water and shade, Lava Lake shows us an alternative future. As ranchers and conservationists, the Bean's have worked tirelessly to effect this ecosystem by allowing for the regrowth of natural communities, including retiring 88,000 acres of sheep grazing allotments in early 2020 to help restore wild bighorn sheep populations. Where they operate, Lava Lake closely manages their livestock, rebuilding the riparian zones by hand if need be, and carefully introducing keystone species like the beaver to revive streams that had been reduced to a warm, muddy trickle.
We explored the ranch by foot and by bike!
In an American west parched for water, these ecological practices provide tangible returns. Restoring the meander of streams keeps water on the land longer. The wetlands created by the beavers raise the water table and allow for more riparian trees. The shade of the aspens and alders growing back over the streams cools the water, reducing both evaporation and sedimentation. As a result of these natural systems, the land is a sponge that holds more water and releases it more slowly. As climate change lowers annual precipitation, and hotter, more sudden springs release snow melt more quickly, these qualities of the restored landscape can mean the difference of a full cutting of hay, or a winters feed for a livestock operation – and in lean times, that can make or break the year.
As urban populations grow, and with them an unavoidable thirst for limited water, working ranch ecosystems that increase soil, wildlife and water can be invaluable. Ranching and urban life have often been at odds, but the landscape we see in these foothills can be a key to sustaining both ranching and human settlements in the west.
During the high heat of the day, the sheep seek shade under a canopy of trees.
We hiked back to the road after visiting a sheep band, a flock of approximately 500 sheep and their lambs. It is a cooler day, with clouds on the horizon. The sheep are enjoying the shade of a steep hillside. They have followed the seasonal green up of the hills, never grazing the same land twice, accompanied by their guard dogs and quiet, careful Peruvian herders. The sheep bands graze several kilometers each day, climbing and descending, stitching together forage and water. This year, the stream has run dry earlier than usual, and the herders are moving further to reach running water. It is not easy, ranching in a drought year.
We hike past the mosaic of sage, paintbrush and lupine. Purple vetch, a nitrogen-fixing legume, peeks out along the trail. As we approach the ridge, clouds gather to the west and the air fills with spice, sweet cinnamon and sage. It is quiet, still, and gently begins to rain.
Thank you to Brian and Kathleen Bean, our hosts, guides and land interpreters at Lava Lake Lamb.
The happy guards dogs take a break from sheep patrol to say hello.