the view in Here

October 2, 2005
Rocky Mountain Dry
By PAM HOUSTON
Creede, Colo.
HEW HALLOCK, the editor of The Valley Courier in Alamosa, Colo., comes from a long line of cattlemen who have grazed their stock near Springfield, out on the state's eastern plains. After two years of drought that forced some ranchers to send their cattle to Oklahoma and others to simply sell out, 2005 has been a good year: plenty of rain and high beef prices have allowed for at least temporary sighs of relief.
But increased gas prices are already affecting where Hew's family can afford to run their cattle and how they market them. "We can't sustain the current rate of growth in the San Luis Valley and still provide the water people need, and it is agriculture that will pay the price for overuse," he told me. "A hundred and fifty years ago our ancestors came out to Colorado and found a new way to live, and I suppose that is what we'll have to do."
Seven thousand feet above sea level, Colorado's San Luis Valley is one of the largest high-desert valleys in the world. Enclosed by the Sangre de Cristo mountains to the east and the San Juans to the west, the valley is home to a community of ranchers and farmers working to preserve a lifestyle threatened by diminishing water tables and rising land and fuel costs.
A little farther down valley, Colin and Karen Henderson own and operate El Sagrado Farm outside La Jara. On their 300 acres they grow grains, oats, barley, wheat, alfalfa and 20 kinds of certified organic vegetables. "We are an old-fashioned diversified farm," Colin said. "We are focused on sustainability, on taking care of the land." El Sagrado is off the grid, relying on solar, wind, bio-diesel (made from used cooking oil) and horsepower (in the form of two giant Belgians). For 17 weeks each summer the Hendersons feed 43 families as part of a community-supported agriculture farm-share program.
"Farmers have always had to use their ingenuity to survive, maybe now it is just a little bit worse," he told me. "We don't want to be separate in our self-sufficiency, we want to be integral; that is the true definition of community."
About 200 miles northwest of La Jara, near Montrose, Bob Hasse is raising yaks. "It is impossible for a ranching family to survive without debt from generation to generation in commodity farming, without borrowing from the future on their land," Bob told me. He believes that if ranching is to survive in Colorado it will be with high-end exotics: elk, bison, American Kobe beef and (in his opinion) the far superior yak. He sells yak hides for clothing and furniture, yak skulls to local artists, and yak meat (as low in fat as elk and bison, but higher in omega-3's) to the health-conscious crowd.
Bob secured his own financial future by working for years in the business world, but he is concerned for his children and grandchildren: "To get started in life without help is harder and harder. Even though we are making some money now, I can't afford to hire my kids at a rate of pay they would be interested in; hopefully in the next few years that will be possible."
I met Banjo Joe at a fruit stand on the side of the road in Palisade. He said it was a beautiful year for peaches; mostly, he thought, because of prayer. Joe's boss, Peter Forte of Forte Farms, had a dream that there were bees crawling all over him, and after that, Joe said, they knew it would be a bumper crop.
Banjo Joe, whose real name is Dan, has been picking peaches in the Grand Valley (nestled between the Book Cliffs and the Grand Mesa, the largest flat-top mountain in the world) since 1972. He identifies himself as the if-it's-broke-then-fix-it guy. Joe doesn't spend too much time thinking about his future or financial security.
"Customers are blessings," he said, "and I try not to let finances blind my eyes. I love peaches. I even wrote a song about them. If we freeze out early in the year I have to prune people's yards all winter just to live. Being a farmer is like going to Vegas. You either win or you have a lot of time to play the banjo."
Pam Houston is the author, most recently, of "Sight Hound."