Newcomers don't like the smells
Life has grown hard for cowboys and cattlemen in Arizona
GEORGE WILLIAMS, one of Scottsdale's last remaining cowboys, has been raising horses and cattle on his 120 acres for 20 years. The cattle go to the slaughterhouse, the horses to rodeos. But Mr Williams is stomping mad.
His problems began last year when dishonest neighbours started to steal his cattle. Then other neighbours, most of them newcomers, took offence at his horses roaming on their properties. Arizona is an open-range state: livestock have the right of way and there is no fine for trespassing. This has been on the law books since 1913. Mr Williams, who is elderly and in poor health, is angry that he has to spend so much of his time fielding complaints and retrieving stolen cattle.
Such grumbles are common in Arizona. The most recent Department of Agriculture census shows that 1,213 of Arizona's 8,507 farms closed down between 1997 and 2002. Many cattlemen are moving out to more remote parts of the state. Arable farmers are struggling, too. Norman Knox, a respected grain farmer in Gilbert, recently learned that the owner of his rented land wants to build condos. Mr Knox is 72 and has to move. He reckons that 50-70% of the farmland in Gilbert has been sold for development in the past two years.
This affects not only cowboys and farmers, but small businessmen too. For 20 years, Gary Young, owner of Gilbert's Higley Feed, sold range blocks and cubes to cattlemen who fed them to cattle during the droughts. But 18 months ago he switched to selling pet food and baby chicks to new home-owners.
Doc Lane is an executive at the Arizona Cattlemen's Association, a trade group. He says Arizona's larger ranch owners are making decent profits from selling. It is the smaller players who are the victims of rising land values, higher mortgages and stiffer city council rules. What happens all too often is that people move in next to a farm because they think the land pretty. But soon they start complaining to the council. In Mr Williams's case it was the horses that annoyed them. Other newcomers don't like the noise, the pesticides and the smell of manure.
Locals worry about the precious, dwindling cowboy culture. Arizona's tourism boards like to promote a steady interest in all things cowboy and western. Last year more British and German tourists came than usual, and many of them were looking precisely for that. Arizona's Dude Ranch Association fills its $350-a-night luxury ranches most of the year; roughly a third of the guests are European.
Many of the ranchers themselves see all this tourism as a cheeky attempt to commercialise a real and vanishing culture. In Prescott, estate agents promote "American Ranch-style" homes with posters of backlit horse riders. On the other side of the street is Whiskey Row, a famous strip of historic cowboy bars. But in Matt's Saloon on Saturday night, real cattlemen could not be found.
Farm folk like Mr Knox and Mr Williams are weighing up their options. Many will migrate to remoter places where land is cheaper and not crowded with city people. Younger ones take on side-jobs as contractors and are cattlehands part-time. Older cowboys aren't sure what to do.
The Arizona Cowboy College in Scottsdale, which trains cattlehands, conducts the school for profit but also for maintaining the cowboy culture. The six-day courses include cattle-herding, rustling and ranch-survival skills. The owner, herself a rancher, says the courses are popular, especially with retired businessmen.
Economist
GEORGE WILLIAMS, one of Scottsdale's last remaining cowboys, has been raising horses and cattle on his 120 acres for 20 years. The cattle go to the slaughterhouse, the horses to rodeos. But Mr Williams is stomping mad.
His problems began last year when dishonest neighbours started to steal his cattle. Then other neighbours, most of them newcomers, took offence at his horses roaming on their properties. Arizona is an open-range state: livestock have the right of way and there is no fine for trespassing. This has been on the law books since 1913. Mr Williams, who is elderly and in poor health, is angry that he has to spend so much of his time fielding complaints and retrieving stolen cattle.
Such grumbles are common in Arizona. The most recent Department of Agriculture census shows that 1,213 of Arizona's 8,507 farms closed down between 1997 and 2002. Many cattlemen are moving out to more remote parts of the state. Arable farmers are struggling, too. Norman Knox, a respected grain farmer in Gilbert, recently learned that the owner of his rented land wants to build condos. Mr Knox is 72 and has to move. He reckons that 50-70% of the farmland in Gilbert has been sold for development in the past two years.
This affects not only cowboys and farmers, but small businessmen too. For 20 years, Gary Young, owner of Gilbert's Higley Feed, sold range blocks and cubes to cattlemen who fed them to cattle during the droughts. But 18 months ago he switched to selling pet food and baby chicks to new home-owners.
Doc Lane is an executive at the Arizona Cattlemen's Association, a trade group. He says Arizona's larger ranch owners are making decent profits from selling. It is the smaller players who are the victims of rising land values, higher mortgages and stiffer city council rules. What happens all too often is that people move in next to a farm because they think the land pretty. But soon they start complaining to the council. In Mr Williams's case it was the horses that annoyed them. Other newcomers don't like the noise, the pesticides and the smell of manure.
Locals worry about the precious, dwindling cowboy culture. Arizona's tourism boards like to promote a steady interest in all things cowboy and western. Last year more British and German tourists came than usual, and many of them were looking precisely for that. Arizona's Dude Ranch Association fills its $350-a-night luxury ranches most of the year; roughly a third of the guests are European.
Many of the ranchers themselves see all this tourism as a cheeky attempt to commercialise a real and vanishing culture. In Prescott, estate agents promote "American Ranch-style" homes with posters of backlit horse riders. On the other side of the street is Whiskey Row, a famous strip of historic cowboy bars. But in Matt's Saloon on Saturday night, real cattlemen could not be found.
Farm folk like Mr Knox and Mr Williams are weighing up their options. Many will migrate to remoter places where land is cheaper and not crowded with city people. Younger ones take on side-jobs as contractors and are cattlehands part-time. Older cowboys aren't sure what to do.
The Arizona Cowboy College in Scottsdale, which trains cattlehands, conducts the school for profit but also for maintaining the cowboy culture. The six-day courses include cattle-herding, rustling and ranch-survival skills. The owner, herself a rancher, says the courses are popular, especially with retired businessmen.
Economist
posted by Eddy Brown at 12:03 PM
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