My Quad

I remember the excitement the day our two bikes arrived; Chris’s two-wheeler and my four-wheeler (Quad). We wheeled them off the trailer and started them up. I figured it was just what you needed to do at 50 – learn a new skill.

After Chris took me through the basics we set out on our first run up Spring Creek Road to our other property, Cambren. We rode abreast and talked a bit as we putted along. We picked up speed as I grew a bit more confident. I remember Chris yelling to me laughing, “Where are the kids? Oh that’s right, they’re not around anymore. Ha!” We had to hold on to our hats as we zoomed along.

It was like we were teenagers again on a new adventure. We felt a new found freedom and tearing along on our new bikes was liberating.

At first I just wanted to ride on the road but gradually I ventured onto the tracks. We have tracks all over our 10,000 acres. They range from being suitable for a two-wheel drive vehicle in places to being almost indistinguishable amongst the re-growth and washed out gullies.

Creek crossings are the scariest, probably mostly because I stacked the two-wheeler early on trying to cross a shallow stream. I was going too fast and once out of control it climbed up the bank and into a tree. I sustained only minor cuts and bruises thank goodness. I remember Chris being really cross because I broke the headlight. But you should see his bike now – there isn’t much left of the original paraphernalia. Chris has stacked it too many times to count.

Sometimes I might be on the bike pretty much all day when we are mustering. We have such large paddocks and once you start a muster you can’t really stop until you have secured the stock. It can be a long way to the yards even up to 10ks.

You would laugh if you saw me get off the bike after being on it all day. I can hardly walk. It looks like I’ve just got off a horse, which I guess in a way, I have.

Though I mightn’t be able to do fish tails like Neal or burnouts like Michelle, I’m pretty confident on it now and can go pretty much anywhere. Though I’m at my bravest when a recalcitrant cow or calf takes off in the wrong direction. I become fearless, tearing across the paddock bouncing over rocks and logs to halt its escape.

But mostly when you are mustering, you are just putting along in 1st or 2nd gear. We use it to run water checks, stock checks, put on pumps, get the mail and of course it provides endless entertainment for some of our guests.

It does a lot of work my Quad but for me it will always somehow be a symbol of the new found freedom I have with my life on the land. I love it.

An extra visitor

It was a pleasant spring afternoon. The family (visiting for the week) were enjoying the cross-breeze and relaxing on the verandah in the early afternoon.

It was fun watching Michelle’s puppy, Gregorii, socialising with our three feral piglets. Though the pigs were small, they felt confident in their territory and numbers and thought it great sport to terrorise Gregorii. They would charge at her snorting and grunting before safely retreating under the house. Gregorii could only nudge her head under the bearers and stare and growl at them, waiting for them to come out and charge her again. It was great entertainment.

When Michelle noticed Gregorii’s barking turn a little frenetic she was quick to respond. Gregorii had discovered a big brown snake stretched out on the garden bed – another playmate!

“Oh my god! It’s a snake,” Michelle yelled and scooped up Gregorii and held her safe. The chit chat on the verandah came to an abrupt halt. Everyone jumped up to get a better view, peering into the garden from a safe distance.

I knew just what to do. Pulling on my gum boots I retrieved the rake and spade from the garden shed. Not that I’d ever killed a snake before, but I thought I could handle it.

Lauren stood bravely near the garden bed, watching the snake in case it moved. We needed to chop off its head. I wasn’t sure which weapon to use first but decided on the rake – if I wasn’t successful in piercing his neck with one of the teeth, I felt confident I could pin him down at least.

Everyone was quiet, watching. I suppose they assumed I was experienced at this sort of thing.

Careful to get my footing secure, I aimed the rake. I paused holding it like a sword ready to pierce. I wanted my thrust to be powerful and sure. I meant business. Taking a deep breath, I rammed the rake down on his head. His body reacted to my attack, writhing. The rake’s teeth had not pierced him but I managed to hold him pinned.

“Here, Lauren. Chop off his head with the spade while I hold him.” I passed the spade to her with my free hand and leaned my chest into the rake, holding him firm. Lauren lifted the spade and brought it down hard on his head. “I got him,” she said.

“Don’t let him go,” yelled Grandma her voice tort with anxiety. “Hold him, hold him! He mightn’t be dead yet.”

Lauren lifted the spade gingerly. Still holding him tight with the rake, we leaned forward to inspect the damage. To our horror, his head moved. It looked a bit flattened and he was stunned but he was definitely still alive!

“Here, you take the rake and hold him.” Lauren took over the rake, holding him pinned. His body was writhing fighting to get free. I took the spade and raised it ready to strike.

Something happened at that moment. I’m not quite sure what. I think the vision of our beautiful bull lying dead, a few weeks earlier filled my mind. Had a snake got him? I was pretty mad about that. Something came over me as I brought that spade down. I attacked yelling, “You f…ing mongrel! You f…ing mongrel!” I was as one possessed.

But no matter how many times or how hard I struck, I couldn’t get that head off. He was tough. We moved him onto a rock to provide some resistance to my strikes. That helped. We succeeded. His head was off. He was dead. All heaved a sigh of relief.

But he didn’t look dead. His torso continued to writhe and slither in graceful purpose. It was eerie. In fact it was quite horrifying. I kept looking back at the separated head. He must be dead. We must be safe. But his body just kept moving – creepy.

Sure that the intruder was dead, Grandma came into the garden. “Now look here,” she said to me, the experienced snake defender. “This is what I do.” Taking the spade from me, she demonstrated bringing the spade down on the snake’s neck in one sure strike. “Then you hold it there. Hold it there as long as you have to. Hold it until you are sure that it is dead.”

NOW I knew what to do. The adrenalin subsided, the excitement passed. The chit chat started up again.

We are never sure when the next visitor will pop up out of nowhere. My eyes scan the garden every day, just in case.

The grief that drought brings...

The Shrinking Dams

We are in damage control. What do we do with our stock when there is no water and no feed? We had opened every gate to every paddock to give the stock access to all the water holes and any feed left on the block. Then we had to close them again. The thick mud in some of the dams is too much of a hazard. We have to keep the stock out.

Too late to save

I found another cow stuck in the mud while out on a muster She was nearly spent poor soul. She must have been trapped for a couple of days. Even her head was stuck as she lay on her side. She couldn't even lift it up. Actually, she looked dead. But I watched carefully for a while and saw her ear flicker. It was alarming to see her still clinging hopelessly to life with no hope of relief. She couldn't be pulled out, she was past it.

Chris shot off two rounds to give her some peace. The blood was surprisingly bright as it oozed into the dam.

Saving the cow

Chris had found yet another cow a few kilometres away in a similar predicament but she was in better shape. We decided to attempt to pull her out.

Chris backed up the Patrol as close as possible over the dam wall. We tied a strap around her neck and tied the other end to the tow bar. Her front quarters were buried up to the base of her neck. She must have been thrashing around for a while but only succeeded in burying herself deeper, like quicksand. But her head was up and she looked alert. She was aware we were there to help her.

Chris got in the car ready to drag her out. I stood watch to tell him how it was going as he couldn't see the old girl. Pulling a 400-500 kilo beast out by the neck isn't pretty. I kept stopping Chris as I was worried he would break her neck.

"I Just have to try to pull her out. There is nothing else I can do," he said as he got back in the car for the last time determined. He didn't stop this time. I just stood and watched as the Patrol heaved and eventually "popped" her out of the mud hole. She didn't even try to help herself

We rushed over to get the strap off and to coax her to stand up. She didn't look well. In fact, she looked worse. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She was really in distress

I couldn't stop the tears any longer. It was so upsetting to see her in such a state when we were trying to help her, to save her.

"Just like Ross said," Chris cursed. "If the mud doesn't kill them you really fuck them up when you pull them out." But what else could we do? We couldn't just leave her there to die. We had to try.

We decided to let her recover. She might stand up of her own accord. I had to walk away from the car to try to compose myself. The tears wouldn't stop, the impact of the drought crushing down on me. We were failing in our duty of care to look after these animals.

There was no hope. We couldn't save her. A few hours later Chris put six bullets in her head. She kept moving and I wanted her out of her misery to so he kept shooting till finally she gave out her last breath.

The drought is such an emotional battle. How do you remain positive when you have to deal with such grief? It was a tough day.

Poddy Calf

There was one positive out of the tragic event. We were able to eventually run down her calf. Now I have my first poddy calf. I'm calling him "Muddy". At least we saved him.

Its funny, but having a calf to bottle feed twice a day is making me feel like I really am a grazier.

Trauma up the back paddock

The day starts as normal

We set off pretty early on our planned day’s activity: Chris clearing scrub on the dozer, me poisoning some regrowth. I did my own thing on the quad bike and we agreed to meet for morning tea at the dozer.

I was working away, lost in my thoughts when he turned up unexpectedly in the car and talked to me through the window, “I found a dead cow at the dam. She was stuck in the mud. There was another old girl stuck as well. I pulled her out but she didn’t get up. Don’t know how she’ll go.”

It was bad news, the impact of the drought. The shrinking dams were turning into death traps with too much exposed mud. It wasn’t a good start to the day. Chris set off to check all the dams.

The Recovery

My work done, I fired up the quad to meet Chris as arranged. As I reached the dozer, I saw him approaching unexpectedly on foot from the opposite direction. I wondered where the car was.

“I got dry-bogged.” He informed me. “I’ll have to get the dozer down there to pull it out.” He had walked a long way from the car with no water. It was fortunate we arrived at the dozer at the same time.

The recovery operation swung into gear when we got to the bog site.

The Patrol’s right wheels were almost buried in the dust and she was leaning rather alarmingly. It’d faltered trying to pull the trailer up a steep bank, coming out of the gully. The trailer was jack knifing behind at an awkward angle.

“You’ll have to steer the car,” Chris said. I could feel my heart racing in my chest immediately.

With the snatchy strap in place I opened the driver’s door gingerly, hoping that wouldn’t tip it over. It was awkward to climb in but I managed. With the dozer purring, Chris inched forward to take up the slack on the snatchy. He gently tugged the car with the dozer. But instead of the car moving forward, it sunk further on it’s lean to the right! Chris stopped immediately.

I was panicking now, my hands trembling and my chest in pain. I didn’t want to be in that car if it rolled over! We got out and circled the situation again - inspected and re-inspected the predicament. It took a bit of doing but we managed to unhook the trailer.
Its moments like these I hate living in the bush - facing harsh realities with no one around to help. You have to rely on your own ingenuity - ingenuity I don’t feel confident I have. But you can’t walk away either though I wanted to just ride home and have a cup of tea. We had to get the car and trailer out and Chris needed my help to do it. I had to dig deep.

I faced my worst fear – the car might roll over. What would happen to me if it did? Probably not much as it would just stop on its side. I climbed back into the car and wound up the window. At least it would provide some meager protection. The seatbelt was locked due to the lean so I couldn’t put it on. I couldn’t really say I was calmer but I was determined.

We tried again with Chris pulling from a different angle. I worked hard to keep those wheels turned in the right direction. My heart was in my mouth. Success! Now that it was no longer weighed down by the trailer, the dozer was able to gently drag the car to firmer ground without tipping it over. Phew!

I feel sick in the tummy just thinking about it even now.

By the time we had pulled out the trailer as well, re-hooked it to the Patrol, and driven them to surer ground, our day was over. I felt rather exhausted. It was good to get home and have a glass of wine. You just never know how your day will turn out when you are out in the bush!

Bulletin 17

We lost one of our Bulls

A tragic loss

We had a bad experience this week while bringing the main herd in for a bit of a checkup.

We were out mustering and getting close to the laneway when I came upon one of the bulls, Investigator. He was down on the ground. He didn’t look very well. His eyes were bulging a little and his tongue was hanging out. His legs stuck out in front of him like four pins. They looked stiff and awkward. Our other bull, Injector, was circling him, nudging his back and trying to push him to his feet. It was distressing to watch. It made me feel quite upset.

I called Chris on the two way radio. We decided to push the herd into the laneway and then go back to see what we could do. It was probably about 10 minutes before we returned. When we got there, he was stone cold dead. Just like that, gone.

Injector was still circling and nudging his mate. We had to wait for him to move away before we could get a closer look at the dead bull. He hadn’t put up much of a fight. We’ve had cows go down before and they usually thrash about. Investigator hadn’t really moved.

We invest a lot of money in our bulls. You need to put a good bull over your cows if you want to breed prime beef. They are quite majestic beasts weighing in around 600 kilos. They have a presence of their own. I can only really muster them because they want to follow the cows. If they are on their own they’ll just stand and look at me, not moving no matter how much I beep the horn.

Investigator wasn’t looking very majestic today. It was a sad day and a substantial loss. We needed to consider the possibilities.

Why did he die?

Had he starved? No, he wasn’t looking poorly with his huge girth still protruding from his side as he lay dead. That couldn’t be it.

Had he been overworked? We are short one bull. You normally have about 1 bull to 30-40 cows. We had two bulls with about 130 cows. But if he had been overworked you would think he would have been looking poorly. That couldn’t be it.

Had he eaten something poisonous? We don’t know of any poisonous feed on our property and he didn’t seem to have gone through a struggle. He had basically just dropped dead. But I guess it’s possible.

Had he been bitten by a snake? The snakes are mean this time of year. This thought freaked me out a bit. If a snake bite can drop a beast this size, what could it do to me? (I’ve been looking out so carefully since then.) I guess a snake bite is possible. But why did it have to bite our bull!

Well I guess we will never know for sure.

An Aside

While Investigator was down on the ground I was able to inspect him closely – more closely than you ever could if he was on his feet. I was intrigued to notice that he had a couple of nipples at the top of his scrotum. Apparently this is normal. I guess guys have nipples that don’t serve any specific purpose, but I hadn’t considered bulls had them as well. They were funny looking things. They didn’t really look like they belonged.

Well, I have to say, you do seem to learn something new everyday on the farm!

Bulletin 16

September, 2009

What am I good at now?

Instead of persuading executives and coworkers to change their perceptions and work differently, I’m now pretty good at persuading cattle to go where I want them.

I’m great at zooming around the countryside on the Quad bike and love it. There isn’t a creek I can’t cross (though I might have to search for a bit to find a place I’m prepared to tackle). Even the hills are easier on my new quad bike.

I’ve also learnt to read the cattle and understand where I need to position myself to get them to move in the right direction. I’m more alert when one is about to charge off in the wrong direction. I can anticipate them somewhat. I also know the naughty ones by sight.

When we first started, the cows would always bunch up in the corner as we struggled to get them moving through yards. Now, somehow our expectations have changed so that doesn’t really happen. There is only the odd recalcitrant that needs a sterner voice.

I can work a fence line confidently. I have a set of tasks that are well within my capability, so no more standing around waiting for something to do or just watching. It is great exercise and very satisfying to look back along the fence as it is erected. I’m even good a sighting in the posts – a very responsible job. The fence just has to be dead straight!

What am I still working on?

I still don’t like being in the yards with the Brahmans. They charge and snort at you. I don’t like them. They make me nervous.

Coping with the isolation is ongoing but the internet helps a lot as do frequent visits to town.

My tennis game is still sadly lacking. The district has a monthly tennis day. It is a great social event and has really helped us integrate. They all love a drink, well lots of drinks actually, so they are always memorable events. I just wish I could hit the ball into the right place a little more frequently.

The anxiety when we are waiting for rain is tiring. It is such a relief when it does rain but the waiting is frustrating and saps your energy. We seem to be waiting a lot.

Baby Piglets

We were out mustering the other day and came across a family of wild pigs. The sow had a big litter – about 12. Chris ran them down and managed to catch three. We brought them home on the bike. They are so cute. We called them Greasy, Pork and Chop. This is to make sure we don’t get too attached to them before we eat them. We will grow them out for about six months. They are getting fatter already. So we have pigs as well as cows to look after now.