Five generations, 6,500 acres, and one critical decision
I sat across from a Montana rancher last week in his own restaurant, eating beef from his own land, and it struck me: this is what we're fighting for. Not just good food, but the connection between the people who raise it and the people who eat it.
Back in the spring, I wrote to you about the farmland crisis keeping me up at night - how 40% of America's farmland is owned by folks over 65, and corporations are circling like vultures ready to swoop in. I just spent a week in Montana and Idaho visiting the ranchers who refuse to surrender.
I met families who've been on the same land since 1904 - five generations who said no to the highest bidder. I rode shotgun with a couple in their mid-70s who are meticulously planning how to pass their 6,500 acres to someone who'll actually farm it. I watched a young family who came back to the ranch, betting their future on grass and soil instead of steady paychecks. I spent an afternoon with them adjusting gates in their flood irrigation system while they shared five generations of land history - stories about drought challenges overcome, and why they're determined to keep it going.
As a first-generation farmer, I'll admit - there were moments I felt a twinge of envy. Andrea and I don't have five generations of legacy behind us. We started with borrowed land because we couldn't afford to buy. But here's the thing: these families aren't just protecting their past. They're fighting for everyone's future.
And what really struck me? Every single ranch is finding creative ways to get closer to the people eating their beef.
It was powerful visiting our friends at The Union by Old Salt in Montana. They’re bringing locally raised meats and produce straight to their community. When you shop local, you help ranchers connect with people who truly care about how their food is raised.
Most of their beef still goes through regional cooperatives and conventional channels - that's what keeps the operation running today. But one started a farmers market stand. Another opened a restaurant and burger shop in town. The older couple sells beef to neighbors right from the ranch.
They're building relationships, one customer at a time, because they've figured out something crucial: when you build relationships with the people you feed, you've created the best defense against losing your land - a community who'll fight to keep you farming.
They're building relationships, one customer at a time, because they've figured out something crucial: when you build relationships with the people you feed, you've created the best defense against losing your land - a community who'll fight to keep you farming.
Here's what a hedge fund sees when they look at these ranches: yield projections, appreciation rates, and return on investment.
Here's what you see: decades of building healthy soil, protecting wildlife habitat, and raising animals with dignity. Proof that regenerative agriculture works.
And that difference? That's everything.
Every purchase from a family farm is a vote for a future where farming stays local, ethical, and sustainable.
When ranchers can build relationships with people who actually care about how their food is raised, suddenly there's a reason to keep farming instead of cashing out. Suddenly succession planning makes sense. Suddenly there's hope that farm kids - and first-generation dreamers like Andrea and I once were - can afford to get started.
Your fork is more powerful than you think.
Every time you choose to buy directly from family farms - whether it's us, those Montana ranchers, or farmers at your local market - you're proving there's a viable alternative to the corporate consolidation swallowing American agriculture. You're showing the next generation that family farming has a future worth fighting for.
The farmland crisis I wrote about in spring? It's still here, getting worse every day. But after this trip, I'm convinced we can win this fight - if enough of us vote with our forks.
Your farmer (inspired and ready to fight),
Cody
Cody