April has been and remains highly variable, if nothing else. Although there was plenty else, and so for a change we could have no end of gossip, news, and perhaps even hot tips!

Except I've given up attempting to predict the future. Well maybe not altogether, but it's been one surprise after another here lately so you roll with it, right?

One recent surprise quite literally cropped up in our fields. I know, some people think farming is dull, but not long after tax day we became aware we had a heck of a stand of camelina going. This was on the stuff where it "failed" last year. But lo and behold, it didn't quite fail completely, but seeded itself back to a near-perfect stand which recently emerged when the glacier melted. But then the ice age returned, and melted again, exposing the baby camelina to 15 degree temperatures, which accounts for some of the yellowish leaves in the photo, but it's pretty tough stuff it seems.

It's really a heck of a deal. My horses had access to a field destined for summerfallow (or so I thought). Thirty year old Bo, the last of my Blackfoot Indian horses and not quite retired yet, seemed taken with something growing there in brief intervals between snowstorms. I'd interseeded red clover last year, for a nitrogen boost. It'd taken hold, is set to get serious this year, and is known to not be good for horses. But still, the clover was just tiny, and there was all this other little green stuff which I initially thought was fanweed, the prior resident winter annual.

But no, the plants grew like mad during the couple of days of sunshine and warm temps inbetween blizzards, and we discovered it was camelina! Old Bo clearly has good taste, or knows a healthy snack on sight.

To our flaggergastment, the Montana Department of Agriculture isn't so sure. In fact, instead of approving camelina oil and meal for human or animal consumption, they've put the brakes on. Temporarily, one hopes. Because yes, there is evidence that too much of a good thing can be bad.

No...! Oh, gosh, the possibilities...

So this matter is being researched. Speaking of researchers, this camelina fluke of ours is sufficiently unusual that one of the best came out today, Alice Pilgeram. She's co-director of the Biobased Institute at MSU. In yet more small-world circles it turns out she grew up adjacent to our old Hi-Line haunts. So she's been around Bo's type before, and thinks the old-timer probably knows enough not to eat too much. He does just kind of snack on it for a bit, is still quite taken with the full diet of hay he gets, and I swear, a big part of the reason he's lived this long is anticipation of his daily winter ration of pellets or grain. He may have a refined palate, but he's a tough old codger, only recently bumped down to #2 in the pecking order, and remains the only one of my horses who's bucked me off. Twice.

The most recent was only a couple of summers ago, and still gives me a grin. I've had Bo since he was eight. A Morgan/Quarter cross, he already had a good bit of packing and mountain experience due to time spent with the best outfitter in those parts, who later tragically died in a horse wreck. At least since I've known him, Bo has viewed humans with suspicion at best. That's not unheard of with horses, some have never forgiven us for "domesticating" them.

Bo's getting to be an old man, though, and while I'd never describe him as friendly I'd like to think he'd at least give me a positive review. So it was a nice summer afternoon, I wanted to gather up the horses for some reason, and came on Bo first who was uncharacteristically separated from the others. Not only that he didn't even attempt to evade me, or at least made only a token effort. Catching a horse is usually a mental chess game to some degree.

I'd never been tempted to ride him bareback before, but here I had him caught, he was being so docile, and it'd be fun to ride the old boy & gather the others. He even stood there while I grabbed a handful of mane and momentarily psyched up for the leap aboard. I made it, too, for at least a couple of seconds before he hit the eject button! And then, the old boy only ran off about twenty yards and stopped. I swear, he was almost contrite, and everything about him said "nothing personal, but that's over the line".

I may even have to put a bit of camelina meal in with his dessert. Of course as it stands that might be illegal, except I'm not selling it for such a purpose, it's my own production and Bo is, shall we say, not destined for consumption. No, he gets to live out his days here. Besides, it appears camelina meal is kind of self-limiting in a diet, as if animals get too much they tend to go off their feed. That's right, it might be viewed as a natural appetite suppressant!

Hmmm...

Plenty of things are bad for you if consumed in excess, but it appears we already have some pretty good numbers on camelina, and so one would hope the wheels of bureaucracy wouldn't lock up and slide us into the ditch, or at least the slow lane.

Recent experience runs contrary, though. This has been an intense week so far, but in seemingly unrelated exchanges I've ran into FIVE separate instances where bureaucratic administration is stalemating progress. Good grief, if I wrote all that down it'd probably ensure I could never work in this state again!

On the other hand you have people like Alice, down in the trenches as it were doing just incredible work on agricultural alternatives for Montana, discovering new uses for alternative crops that could create huge new markets, so I'm not painting with too broad of brush here, but come on guys, it's time to get out the (red) tape cutters.

Aside from that, at least here in the Gallatin spring has barely teased us, and in fact we woke up to several inches of white again this morning. We're back to green by sunset, but I doubt anyone's sunbathing out there. We did a bit of grass seeding a couple of days ago, and stuck the air seeder in the ground yesterday far enough to verify it was still borderline mud. Otherwise I don't think anyone's turned a wheel in the immediate neighborhood, and now likely won't again for a bit. Makes "volunteer" camelina look even better!

Global warming seemed like a dubious concept here in the “Valley of the Flowers” this morning, when we awoke to a thermometer reading of 9 degrees. Even that was perhaps balmy in comparison to our old digs up in Cut Bank, where they recorded a daunting +1. There’s a winter storm watch for tonight and tomorrow, so I guess we’ll see if March goes out like a lion. Feels more like a penguin to me.
In spite of all that, I’ve had the farming bug for a while now. We’re planning to raise camelina again, which should be seeded the earlier the better. Last year I definitely got it in way too late, and suffered a pretty visible crop failure as a result. Oh, well... If you mess with alternative crops that kind of thing will happen. It wasn’t my first wreck, and while my generally positive outlook almost prevents me from saying so, it probably won’t be the last. Anyway, early seeding is a moot concept at the moment, in our case at least, as the fields are still covered with something resembling an ice cap, and even though it’s technically spring, the outlook for this week is downright wintry.
At least now we have machinery that will allow us to cover the acres hasta pronto when it does warm up. Besides camelina, we’re planning on putting in lentils and golden flax, and yes, maybe even some wheat and barley. I’d like to plant some mustard also, but am having a bit of a time tracking down seed. In my previous incarnation as a Hi-Line farmer we raised mustard a few times, and usually got seed out of Canada. Now my son’s the only family member with a passport, due to his recent trip to Mexico, but his other commitments likely preclude him joining me on a trip to the north country this week. Fortunately my other seed connections may be able to come through, so we’ll see…
Seed availability is extremely tight this spring (except for camelina and flax, in our case). A lot of winter wheat went in last fall around Montana, and its survival prospects are still up in the air. If substantial amounts have to be re-seeded to spring crops, things might get really interesting, as from all indications the seed just isn’t out there. Not many farmers could resist prices of $10-12/bushel, and emptied their bins. That was before it went to $20, though, and I recently ran into the Belgrade elevator manager who told me they even hit $24 for a time! Mind-boggling… Especially since Belgrade is not exactly one of the modern 100+ car shuttle loading facilities the railroads insist on anymore. No, they still load railroad cars the old-fashioned one-at-a-time method, with some of the lowest freight rates in the state in spite of it.
Incomprehensible as it’s been in my lifetime, it appears that stratospheric ag commodity prices just might become the norm in the foreseeable future. Stocks of most commodities are extremely tight worldwide, with just no margin for error or weather related production problems. Hahahaha! Sorry, I can’t help but laugh at that statement. Weather issues are a given, in my experience. Plus, it appears quite a bit of investment funds are flowing into commodity markets. I suppose that’s predictable enough. Let’s see, in recent memory… when the tech boom went bust those funds went into the stock market, and then more recently real estate, and now they’re looking for the next big thing.
I was intrigued with commodity futures markets in my college days, and dabbled in them a bit after graduation before I quickly realized they make poker look like a sure thing. I don’t recall the stats offhand, but even the “experts” lose more often than they win, quickly learn to rapidly bail on losing positions, and maximize their winners. I doubt your average investor has that kind of knowledge or discipline, and various shark analogies come to mind.
No, I believe I’ll continue to avoid the futures markets, as the actual tangible commodity markets should be plenty interesting. With relatively foolproof crops like corn, wheat, and soybeans at record price levels there’s not a great deal of interest in planting oddball alternative crops. One of my favorite market analysts, John Duvenaud of the Wild Oats Grain Market Advisory says stocks of most alternative crops are already extremely tight, to the point they make wheat look plentiful, and if any production blips come down the pike (a given, IMO); look out!
In any case, I’d like to think we’re on the verge of the sort of ag profitability not seen since the 70’s, when my parents were able to sock away a small fortune. Of course, production expenses are astronomically higher now. Unless… you’re making your own fuel and getting your nitrogen fertilizer out of the air via legumes, versus out of the ground via “natural” gas. Of course, with alternative crops you don’t just haul it to the elevator and collect a check, you have to hustle your own markets. Our ongoing packaging and labeling projects are getting there, though, we’ve recently become aware of some extremely promising uses for the byproducts like camelina meal, and I remain incurably optimistic.

On a completely different note, at least this lingering wintry weather has had an upside besides the welcome moisture prospects. I finally got around to breaking out my Randonee ski gear for a couple of backcountry ventures, more or less in our back yard here in the Bridgers. As I’ve mentioned off and on, over the past couple of years I’d scrounged some decent Alpine Touring gear, where you can free-heel on the way up, and lock down for the descent. First I scored an irresistible bargain on some high end Scarpa Denali boots. Bindings took longer, though. I don’t know whether to blame my frugal homesteader ancestry or just what, but I seldom pay full retail, and find the idea of shelling out $400 or more just for a pair of bindings somewhat offensive. I was beginning to wonder, as a couple of winters monitoring eBay hadn’t produced anything approaching a bargain on something like a pair of Fritschi Freerides, so I eventually settled for their predecessors, some Swiss military surplus versions. Aside from being a real pain to put back on in deep snow if you biff it and eject, they suffice nicely. Skis were the easy part, and I’m pleased with my ski swap score; some apparently one-of-a-kind Hart all-mountain skis constructed of honeycomb aluminum, like the old Hexcel’s I used in my ski patrol days. They’re light as feathers, and ideally suited to off-trail backcountry touring. Chained up with a set of climbing skins, you can all but climb trees with them!
I’ve long been wanting to ski one of my favorite places here on the west slope, my sure-fire deer spot. Before I learned to find elk on a consistent basis, a particular bowl I’d stumbled into on an exploratory hike in the early 80’s produced a significant portion of our protein diet. True to form, on the descent I discovered the very well-hidden trail that provides practical access. It crosses a bit of private land, and I’m told I was the only person who ever requested access permission. I believe to this day it’s not widely known, especially since now you have to draw a special tag to hunt buck deer in the Bridgers and hunting pressure is greatly reduced. This would not appear to bear on backcountry skiing, except now it seems I all but have my own private ski area!! Yes, I believe the boards will be seeing more use in coming winters. I’d kind of maxed on resort skiing, in fact I recall firmly planting foot in mouth yet again with a couple of buffalo clients on this issue. We were discussing skiing while skinning their buffalo, and I compared resort skiing to masturbation. I thought this was a hilarious analogy, but then they mentioned they ski pretty much daily at a resort in Idaho, and oops…
Bad jokes aside, I skied so much at Bridger Bowl back in the day that I just can’t get excited about it, and shelling out most of a C-note for a lift ticket at Big Sky runs counter to these tightwad tendencies I keep mentioning, but now…! My “secret” bowl offers about a 2200’ vertical drop, with no end of possible lines. Thus far I’ve only skied the “trail” down, the same route I use going up. I packed so many deer out of there on horseback, not to mention hiking it, that flying along on a pair of skis is beyond exhilarating, and I literally laughed out loud from sheer joy a few times! It’s been a while since that happened at a resort. Not least, I’d venture the avalanche danger is all but nil. The trail is mostly timbered, not doghair stuff, just nicely spaced old growth. The bowl itself has a mostly southern exposure, and consequent sunshine tends to solidify the snowpack. Not to mention, it has just enough scattered timber, and a nice stand of sagebrush. I seriously doubt it’s ever slid, certainly not since we’ve lived here. I know, never say never, but avalanche conditions would have to be just off the scale. I’m not completely stupid in these matters, even though I do press the envelope a bit with solo ventures. None of my buds have AT gear, although I about have Cody talked into snowshoeing up, a necessity for snowboarders (unless they have a split board).
The only downside is I’ve discovered my own private ski area just in time for spring, disregarding this week’s forecast. Next year…
Hmmm, that’s a recurrent theme in farming too. That’s OK. A fella needs something to look forward to, right?