MAGRUDER RANCH OFFERING SUPPORT
Donations of grass-fed beef made to local nonprofits
Her great- great grandfather, Charles Haven, purchased the land in Potter Valley over 100 years ago to raise sheep and today, as a fifth- generation rancher on the Magruder Ranch, Grace Farmer, marketing, business and communications manager, is deeply appreciative to the community in which she and her family live and work raising organic beef, lamb and pork.
Mendolake Food Hub project coordinator Kelly Hansen contacted Grace some weeks ago saying they had money from a grant and wanted to purchase some ground beef from the Magruder Ranch to send to the senior center in Fort Bragg.
They were, at the time, processing beef, from which they would send 150 pounds of
ground beef to Plowshares.
They then matched what the Food Hub was purchasing with a donation of 75 pounds of their own ground beef to provide the senior center with a combined
total of 150 pounds.
They also wrote a check for $500 to the Food Bank in Ukiah.
“As we process more animals and move them through the system, we may be able to do more,” she says.
T he family- owned business raises grass fed beef with smaller seasonal programs of grass-finished lamb and pastured pigs selling directly to Ukiah Natural Foods Co- op and Harvest Market in Fort Bragg, to butcher shops and restaurants locally and in the Bay Area and to individuals who buy a quarter, half or whole beef throughout the year.
The cattle are grazed on the 2,400- acre home ranch plus 6,000 to 8,000 acres of leased land throughout the county.
“We are spread out all over but it all happens right here in Mendocino where all the animals are under our care; there’s always land that’s being grazed and there’s always land that’s being rested,” says Grace’s husband, Kyle Farmer, infrastructure operating officer.
He just returned from a day on the Willits grade where he was checking fences to make sure they were secure for the arrival of a herd of cattle and explains that although goals are created as to when the animals will be brought on and taken off, these plans are regularly adjusted in accordance with the overriding reality of how much rain has occurred, how much the grass has grown, how much the sun is shining and the fertility of the cows.
In terms of how many cows they end up rising— that amount is constantly being determined in a holistic manner rather than what they might wish it to be or push it to be.
During the fires of 2017, they lost 45 pregnant cows.
“Things like that change your production,” says Grace’s dad, Mac Magruder, the ranch’s head honcho. “We have to compensate for events like that and fill in.”
Production is also dependent on how old the mother cows are (some produce for as many as 15 years) and how many calves are born, with a yearly average of 200 to 250 pregnant cows and 180 to 220 yearlings.
“It’s always in flux; we raise anywhere from 500 to 750 heartbeats in any given year,” says Kyle.
The calves stay with their mother for up to about 240 days, again depending on the weather and grass production, are moved into the yearling operation and finally into the grass-finished program after which they are marketed.
“These are three separate stages—all part of our program, always under our control,” says Magruder.
They constantly work to match each herd’s nutritional requirements to the ground they are grazing.
As an example, Kyle explains that a steer intended for immediate sale will not put on enough weight if left out on a rangeland hill while a mother cow left on irrigated pastures will get too fat to remain healthy.
At any one time they have between 8 and 10 bulls that provide natural service for the cows and Farmer says “there’s a lot of strategizing for the bulls.”
Their age, their condition and their knowledge of the land—where the water trough is, where the salt licks are, the bull’s individual temperaments—all come into play when determining where they will go.
Cows calve in the spring and in the fall, allowing the ranch to market their beef year-round.
After about nine months the calves are moved to pasture, again depending on how well the calf is growing, how the mother is doing and how much grass is available. If the hills are drying up and the mother cows have no milk, the calves will be brought down to graze on greengrowing grass
“We will keep the calf with its mother for as long as possible,” says Kyle.
During the month of February, cattle are fed hay that is raised and harvested on their property.
Prior to marketing the animals are weighed, with an average live weight of 1,150 pounds, and the heavier ones are corralled.
“We circle them and talk about their bodies. This is one of Mac’s areas of expertise; he looks at them from a sculptural perspective.”
As arbiter of animal
health—magruder has seen everything in his decades of working with the cattle—it is always about the health of the animal.
The quantitative measurement of weight is not enough to judge beef cattle, and the customer always come into play; a restaurant might appreciate a smaller animal while a butcher shop might want a fatter one.
“It has to do with finish; some buyers like leaner animals and some like them as fat as you can get them; we play around with that,” says Kyle.
The animals are driven by truck, five to eight at a time, to the Redwood Meat Company, a family- owned slaughtering facility in Eureka, and the carcasses are delivered to Golden Gate Meats in Santa Rosa, another family- owned business, where the meat is cut and wrapped.
“Once the live animal is gone, we are no longer part of the hands- on process,” says Grace.
Their intimate connection to their customers allows them to get direct feedback providing them with information to integrate into their learning loop.
During C OVID, the ranch lost its restaurant business within the county and in the Bay Area—about 25 percent of their sales— and the family became concerned for the future of their business.
“We realized how much this was affecting jobs and the economy. How much were people going to be interested in continuing to buy local food when they could go to the Costco and get beef from a Venezuelan dairy cow?” says Kyle.
Then, sales to individuals skyrocketed with an increasing demand from the Co- op and Harvest Market and they were faced with rationing their meat and figuring out how to pace themselves so they could serve as many people as possible
“We thought we would fall off the map but instead discovered we were something vital to the community, a really beautiful thing to realize,” says Grace.
It was an amazing confirmation; most people contacting them were close to home.
“We changed from a feeling of being afloat to one of being acknowledged, recognized for what we do.
“Our community donations are more in the context of the great love we feel for this community, especially this year; going through the trials of COVID has left us feeling so much more connected to the community, feeling empowered and supported.
“This is the least we can do to give back, to say thank you and to continue to get this very important resource to those who appreciate it.”