“Hey, do you wanna go to Farm Progress Days?” says he.
Inside murmuring. Ah, not really.
After a moment’s hesitation, I brightly suggested, “Can we take the side-by-side?”
I figured if I was going to be forced to walk around acres of uneven territory (harvested alfalfa fields), I’d have some fun getting there.
“Sure.”
It was set. Because four-wheelers aren’t allowed on numbered highways — just lettered county roads — we meandered, taking our time getting there just before noon on that first day.
Progress Days this year was held at the Clinton Farms in Bear Creek, which is why my husband wanted to check it out. It holds no real fascination to me, as these huge farms are so out of our league.
Back in the day when we were still in the throes of farming, we visited a Farm Progress Days event held close to us. Getting there, we browsed through the tents, stopping here and there. Coming up on a calf operation system, we paused. They had a bottle feeding structure set up in place. The representative was animated, discussing all the pros to this great system and of course, trying to pitch a sale.
A bit into the conversation, he inquired casually, “How many calves you guys feeding right now?”
Looking at my husband, we figured in our heads. I was feeding about five right then, all on the bottle, which for our small farm was a handful.
“About five.”
He looked at us for a hot second. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head that these people in front of him were feeding five calves. It’s like he almost visibly dismissed us — in actuality, he really did — stopped pitching and looked right past our shoulder for the next viable customer. He had in mind a farmer needing a calf-feeding system at least 10 times five.
Laughing together as we moved along, we really couldn’t blame the young man. His time is money, and we were definitely not in the market.
So this year after getting parked, I remembered the experience from years earlier and putting it in perspective, went about simply enjoying the casual walk with my husband.
We started perusing the tents and displays and realized this year was much like others. We had been just too small. While it was interesting to see, we realized these displays and offerings were for much larger farms. Spotting a gigantic manure spreader, I looked around realizing every piece of equipment on display was enormous.
Many versatile booths were exhibited, offering animal care products and services, buildings and structure ideas, dairy supplies, feeding and fertilizer equipment, electrical advice and offers, manure-handling options, livestock services, seed and agronomy products. It was endless and mind-boggling, to be honest.
We did have some nice conversations with folks. Farmers, no matter the size of their farm, are always extremely sociable. Talking to a very nice couple who happened to own a deer farm, we were shown some amazing bucks. My husband’s blue eyes sparkled a little deeper.
Going on, we stopped to converse with a pleasant couple who were members of the Wisconsin Hereford Association. Discussing the pros and cons of raising Black Angus beef cattle, we talked about our personal experience with them. Rehashing the fact that one had sent me to the emergency room brought back the solid reason why we decided not to continue that endeavor.
Later, to sit a bit, we decided to go on a wagon-ride tour of the massive farm. They had separate, large and very clean barns for each phase of development from small calves to bred heifers, to dry cows, to finally cows currently in their milking stage.
Every barn was equipped with a drive-through feeding area as well as numerous large fans to keep air circulating. Cow comfort was evidently considered first and foremost. A happy, rested, well-tended cow produces milk. We lived that fact firsthand for over 40 years.
Our tour guide explained each barn’s purpose and a bit of the history of the family farm, as well as interesting facts regarding the animals and upkeep. The farm boasts a 7 million gallon liquid manure pit, which was built to accommodate the ever-growing animal population.
Estimating approximately 2,500 livestock (calves, heifers and cows) residing there, the family raises all their own calves and averages about three newborns per day. They have a rotating milking parlor that holds 50 milking cows at a time. It takes the workers about 3 1/2 hours to milk 860 cows, with milking three times a day. Scheduled breaks are mandatory for cleaning purposes.
To put it in perspective, my husband had milked our 48 cows twice daily via pipeline. It took him about two hours, working with four claw-milkers.
The buildings and surrounding areas were very well-kept. It was evident the Clintons, while owning a mega farm, cared deeply about their animals’ welfare. It echoed a small-farm mentality, which deeply resonated with me, a small-farm country girl.
(“A righteous man has regard for the life of his animal …” Proverbs 12:10a)
Kay Reminger was born and raised on a dairy farm, and she married her high school sweetheart, who happened to farm for a living in Leopolis. Writing for quite a few years, she remains focused on the blessings of living the ups and downs of rural life from a farm wife’s perspective.