The T Bar J 5K Had Quite A Finish
Well, apparently 1,850 pounds of hay is more interesting than we realized.
Last Friday, I asked you to guess the weight of one of our big alfalfa bales. And you did.
The guesses started coming into my inbox before we ever asked the question on Facebook or Instagram.
Thank you to everyone who sent me a guess. You were the ones who got this whole thing started, and Al and I had a lot of fun reading your answers.
Then Saturday night we let everybody else have a try.
And apparently you started something. 😄
The "make a guess video" has now been watched nearly 14,000 times on Facebook, and the video with the scale showing the weight has passed 117,000 views on Facebook and 30,000 on Instagram.
We've heard from ranchers, farmers, and folks who have probably never stood beside a big round bale in their lives.
One fellow even asked what it looks like when we actually feed a bale that big.
I told him I'd show him.
So sometime this winter, when we unroll that 1,850-pound bale for the cows, you'll get to come along.
Something that's an ordinary day's work to us may be something you've never seen before.
And thanks to all of you who played along first.
We'll keep bringing you along.
Then Sunday night, things got a little TOO interesting.
A big thunderstorm rolled across the ranch.
One lightning strike was so close that the flash and the boom seemed to happen at the same time.
And then... Nothing. No internet. No telephone.
And since we don't have cell service here at the ranch, that meant no communication at all.
Monday was a holiday, which made finding help particularly interesting.
I drove to the neighbors' three different times so I could use their phone and keep trying to get someone headed our way.
Meanwhile, I had beef orders to get ready, shipping labels to print, and Tuesday's Cut of the Week to finish.
Finally, late that afternoon, Miles arrived.
He'd driven about three hours to get here.
The lightning had done a pretty good job on us. Our power box and battery backup had to be replaced, and the router was fried too.
Miles got everything working again.
Then, before he could head to his next repair east of Molt, he had to sit here and use our newly restored Wi-Fi to get his next instructions.
Cell service gets pretty scarce out here —which became particularly important that Monday.
Molt Montana is about 20 miles northwest of Billings, and we live about 8 miles past there.
Anyway, after all that, I figured the least we could do was send him down the road with three T Bar J beef sticks—Ghost Pepper, Jalapeño, and Teriyaki.
Apparently they didn't make it very far.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Delicious!
“Stopped by to work on the phone and internet. After I finished, I was sent on my way with some snack sticks. Ghost pepper, jalapeño, and teriyaki. All 3 flavors were delicious. I think I only made it about 5 miles down the road before I ate them all.”
— Miles McKay
Five miles. Three beef sticks. 😂
Miles, if you're reading this, thank you again for making that long drive and getting us connected to the outside world.
Annual T Bar J 5K
Tuesday was the Annual T Bar J 5K.
Not for Al and me. For the cows.
It was windier than all get out. I had to cinch my hat up another notch to keep it on.
The cows and calves had about a three-mile walk to their next pasture. Like any challenging 5K, this course has two hills.
In fact, this move takes them to Rattlesnake Butte, where the snakes den up for the winter.
And just like any good 5K, apparently they were saving something for the finish.
Once they came over the last hill and spotted that water tank... it was time to start their kick.
👆 Tap the picture to watch the T Bar J 5K!
About 160 cows and calves came charging down the hill. Dust was flying, tails were in the air, and everybody seemed to have something to say about it.
Most of them handled the finishing kick pretty well.
One didn't.
She tripped.
She wrecked.
She got right back up.
And kept going. 😂
Before long, there were 15 or 16 heads crowded around the big tire tank getting a well-earned drink.
Three miles into that wind will do that to you.
And then came the best news of our week.
Ayla got to ring the bell.
After her bone marrow transplant and being in her hospital room since August 2, her numbers had improved enough that she was able to leave the hospital and move into the apartment at Brent's Place with her mom and dad.
She still has to remain in isolation, but after more than a month in that hospital room, getting to live in her family's apartment was a pretty big deal.
And Ayla was very happy.
We are hoping she can be home in Rapid City before Christmas.
She did everything they asked of her—walking when she needed to walk, trying to eat when she needed to eat, and being one tough little 10-year-old patient.
We're awfully proud of her.
And we're thankful for every one of you who has kept Ayla and our family in your thoughts and prayers.
Last week we were delivering half a T Bar J beef to Brent's Place to help with the meals they serve families staying there.
This week, our own family gets to be together there.
We're pretty grateful for that.
Now we're watching the sky again.
Sunday is September 13th — 90 days since our foggy, rainy June 13th.
90-day Fog Storm.
And wouldn't you know it...
They're calling for rain.
We'll see if Farmer Weather gets this one right.
Stay tuned. 😊
And while we're watching the sky and the cows, we'll be looking for Cory, our UPS driver.
We picked up another load of meat yesterday. Monday, we'll start shipping pork orders, and after that, T Bar J beef starts heading out again.
Shipping season is here. That and deliveries are my favorites.
Getting to see, or at least talk with, our customers and friends.
Thanks for spending this Friday with us on the ranch.
And you didn't even need your work gloves. Well, maybe next week.
Whether you're here for the beef, the cows, the weather—or apparently very large bales of hay—we're glad you're here.
Amber, Al & Fritzie
Molt, Montana
P.S. If that 90-day weather sign is right, I'll report back. If it's wrong, we'll probably keep watching the sky anyway. That's what ranchers do.
