Winter has made a dramatic entrance this year! The snow totals in Colorado and New Mexico were impressive, with areas receiving up to 40-plus inches of snow. Many areas also received much needed moisture in the form of rain. Even if the timing of the moisture was not optimal, delaying weaning or setting back harvest crews, it is hard to argue the relief it brought to many areas dealing with drought and dusty fall working conditions. By the time you read this article, the northwest U.S. could find themselves in similar situations with a forecasted significant amount of snow.
As I reflect on the dramatic swings in weather the High Plains receive, I find myself reflecting on those that came before us and the resilience they exhibited settling a land roamed and ruled by the Comanches and at the mercy of Mother Nature. Historical books and movies don’t spare when it comes to depicting the conditions the High Plains dealt those in its path. S.C. Gwynne’s book, “Empire of the Summer Moon,” offers a fascinating, vivid and unique perspective of the environment and the people. It gives you a level of appreciation for those brave enough to venture into the adverse climate.
The idea that this was “the last part of the continent conquered” also speaks to the immense challenges of colonization and settlement. The High Plains were remote, difficult to navigate and hostile to the unfamiliar, making it the final frontier for settlers and the U.S. Army. It paints a picture of a rugged, wild place that even the army was reluctant to engage with until absolutely necessary.
The High Plains, where the Comanches roamed, were indeed unforgiving. The book describes it as a combination of extreme heat and droughts, followed by brutal winter storms. This created a landscape that was both challenging and often deadly. Many of the “common place” storms like the recent blizzard in eastern and southern Colorado we encounter are so uniquely extreme they have their own specific cultural identity.
The Comanches no longer pose immediate threats, and technology has allowed prosperity in areas once rugged and wild, but weather still shapes day-to-day life for those that call the High Plains home. Anyone hauling feed to unweaned calves still on the cow at summer grass, waiting for snow to thaw and mud to clear, know that Mother Nature does not read the same calendar and planner they have. It is easy to become overwhelmed, frustrated or even angry, but let us not forget hardships those before us endured with the hope that this would be the better life, the beginning of their legacy. Let us be grateful for the lessons learned from previous generations to progress forward and persevere.
Maybe we have these historical weather patterns to thank for the advancement of cattle marketing. It was out of sustainability necessity that cattle transportation evolved from cattle drives to rail cars, to trailers and semis crossing the country on interstates. Marketing from trades between neighbors to cattle yards, to auctions, to online videos and photographs. Breeding and genomic information from word of mouth to print, to magazines, to online catalogs readily and easily accessible on your cell phone for the most informed breeding choices.
Whether you live in this region by choice or chance, we can all learn from the generations before us. Hard work, perseverance and resilience passed down through generations can create a legacy of strength and character. It’s true that hardships often shape not only our survival but also our memories. When kids look back on stories of those tough winters, they might remember the challenges and snows days off school, but also the lessons of grit, determination and community. Those snowstorms are more than just weather events—they’re moments that define how people respond to adversity, and that becomes part of their identity.
In a way, the hardships we face today serve as steppingstones for future generations to learn from, as they look back on how their parents and grandparents met those challenges head-on. They might see not just the snowdrifts, but the spirit that allowed the family to thrive through them. — TY GROSHANS
