ROLLING THUNDER

At roughly 3 p.m. today, the orange seat on the back of the roller snapped clean off.

This sundering set off a series of events strange and fearsome. (And, since no one got hurt, I can say this enthusiastically, awesome.)

It started with Farmer Ian, who was working behind two horses out in a distant field. Ian was seated on the back of the roller, crushing clumps of soil. The roller was hitched to Bill and Jess, a cumulative 3,500 pounds of beast.

The seat broke, and Ian hit the ground, falling backwards. Simultaneously, the horses spooked and took off at a breakaway gallop, running faster than I ever thought they could. The roller, still attached to the horses, thundered behind them, urging them on with its noise and momentum.

I watched this runaway train take off from several hundred yards away. The other interns and I were down near the barn, just about ready to call it a day. We all started running in the general direction of the horses, each to the place we thought they might be headed.

As I ran up the trail from the barn towards the visitor center, I watched the horses streak past and enter the parking lot area. Then I couldn't see them anymore for a half minute, but I could hear them as they and the roller smashed across the gravel.

Suddenly the horses reappeared, still sprinting hard and wild. Maybe 50 yards from me now, they turned and continued their charge directly toward me. I was on one side of the small stream that runs through the farm, and they were quickly approaching on the other side. The rumbling was growing louder, and it sounded to me like a movie soundtrack getting ready for something dramatic. No one else was anywhere near yet. I threw my hands up in the air and shouted "Whoa!" hoping this and the natural barrier of water might convince the horses to stop.

With about 25 yards left between them and I, the horses showed no signs of pulling up. I decided to sidestep a few yards up onto the narrow footbridge that crosses over the stream. The amazing thing that happened next is that as the horses reached the stream, which they cross nearly every day, they turned instead for the bridge, which they never cross. In the second I realized that I still wasn't safe, I jumped to the side. The horses crashed onto the wooden planks. SLAMMO!!! The bridge wasn't wide enough for the roller, and the side rails of the bridge ripped off during the collision.

Finally, as the horses reached the end of the bridge, their momentum ran out and they stopped suddenly as the roller became wedged in a jumble of broken wood. I was the first to reach the horses after that. I grabbed Jess's halter just in case, although I don't think those horses were going anywhere at this point. Within 30 seconds the others farmers arrived. They helped hold the horses and started to unhitch them.

No one was hurt, neither Ian nor the horses. The only causalities were two of the vehicles parked in the parking lot, which the horses sideswiped with the roller during their rampage. One of the vehicles was Ian's brand new pickup truck, which ended up with a few small dents. The other was my '93 Camry, a real classic. It's got a smashed rear breaklight, smashed rear blinker, and a cracked bumper.

That sucks. But I like the story.

"Dude, what did you do to your car?"

"Oh, runaway horses."


PICTURES:

Picture one was taken on a cell phone shortly after the horses crashed onto the bridge. That's me in blue.

Picture two gives you an idea of my view right before the horses decide to try to cross.

Picture three is the orange seat that broke.

Picture four is my broken car.

No-Till Farming?

John McCain gave a big speech on global warming and energy policy today. Here's an AP article if you missed it:

http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5g1lnDN47XfRwq7TtD30hwUCcb6JgD90K6AGO0

Joseph Romm, one of the climate/energy policy bloggers I read on the subject, had this critique:

"McCain’s cost-containment strategy for his climate policy is a fraud. It substitutes a huge amount of low cost, phony emissions reductions both here and abroad — called offsets — for actual domestic emissions reductions."

One of the offsets that McCain touts is something called "no-till farming." I have to admit, I don't know a lot about no-till farming, yet, but rest assured the subject will be at the top of the agenda during coffee break tomorrow morning.

In the interim, I consulted my trusted advisor, Wikipedia. She tells me right away that no-till farming was once called "chemical farming," which doesn't sound especially wholesome:

"Some farmers [use] a 'burn-down' herbicide such as Glyphosate in lieu of tillage for seedbed preparation, and because of this, no-till is often associated with increased chemical use in comparison to traditional tillage based methods of crop production."

Glyphosate, if you're not familiar with it, is the generic name for Roundup, manufactured by argibusiness giant Monsanto. Roundup has come up in conversation on the farm at least a few times. Farmer Jeremy used to work at a job in which he had to spray the stuff. He says that when it first came out, everyone told him it was safe and non-toxic, no worries. But a few years later, that changed – a few studies found that apparently it's not-so non-toxic. (A quick Googling reveals that the safety of Roundup is still very much up for debate.)

Anyhow, I also have no idea whether no-till farming reduces carbon emmisions. But here is the abstract of an article in Agriculture, Ecosystems and Environment, which Romm cites in his post:

It is widely believed that soil disturbance by tillage was a primary cause of the historical loss of soil organic carbon (SOC) in North America, and that substantial SOC sequestration can be accomplished by changing from conventional plowing to less intensive methods known as conservation tillage. This is based on experiments where changes in carbon storage have been estimated through soil sampling of tillage trials. However, sampling protocol may have biased the results. In essentially all cases where conservation tillage was found to sequester C, soils were only sampled to a depth of 30 cm or less, even though crop roots often extend much deeper. In the few studies where sampling extended deeper than 30 cm, conservation tillage has shown no consistent accrual of SOC, instead showing a difference in the distribution of SOC, with higher concentrations near the surface in conservation tillage and higher concentrations in deeper layers under conventional tillage. These contrasting results may be due to tillage-induced differences in thermal and physical conditions that affect root growth and distribution. Long-term, continuous gas exchange measurements have also been unable to detect C gain due to reduced tillage. Though there are other good reasons to use conservation tillage, evidence that it promotes C sequestration is not compelling.

THE KNACK

In the past week I've been exposed to some high technology of yesteryear that works without the aid of electricity. One example was a sound powered telephone that converts sound waves into a signal that can be heard on the other end without amplification. Another was a crystal radio, which picks up radio stations and plays the signal through headphones, again without electricity. Tomorrow is "Back to the Future" day at Howell, during which some of these gadgets will be on display.

I recently tried building my own crystal radio from a kit designed for 10 year olds. My efforts have thus far been unsuccessful. Everything's connected, but no sound.

Something I've realized from my time at the farm is that some people here have "The Knack." Farmer Jim, especially, has The Knack. This means that he sees something mechanical or electrical, understands after a little observation and trial and error how it works or should work, and is then able to fix it.

I seem to lack The Knack, unfortunately. In third grade I won the school invention contest, which involved designing a simple machine from a shoebox and like materials that could dispense any three objects of your choosing (I used marbles). My machine was simple, sleek, and devastatingly effective. My secret was using levers made out of plastic spoons.

That was the pinnacle of my mechanical career. Since then, I've bolted a few things together, but that's about it. The Knack is weak in me. In the same way some folks see a machine and understand it, I see a machine and think, "Black Magic." I thought maybe my mechanical aptitude would improve with a little practice, and I think maybe it could if I keep at it, but for the most part I think Great Fixers are born, not made.

On the upshot, I do seem to possess a certain gift for hooking together TVs, DVD players, satellite receivers, cable boxes, cameras, computers, and other similar technology. So at least I'll always be entertained.

THE WHEAT IS ALWAYS GREENER

I saw something interesting today in the wheat field.

The wheat has grown by now to a height of about 8 inches, and the whole field is green. But within this sea of green, two narrow strips of darker emerald span the entire length of the field.

Farmer Jeremy was there with me, and he explained what had happened:

The entire field was sprayed some time ago with synthetic nitrogen fertilizer. During the process of doing laps back and forth across the field in a tractor, however, it worked out that two strips ended up getting a double dose of nitrogen. The result was these two extra-green lanes of wheat that appear unmistakably healthier than the rest of the crop.

If you've been reading the blog these past several weeks, you know I've written several times about the benefits and drawbacks of nitrogen fertilizer. But this is my first real look at the power of the stuff. My first-glace conclusion: Yeah, it works, and apparently doubling the amount you use works even better.

THE HISTORY FAIR

I spent my Saturday at Washington Crossing State Park. This was for the annual New Jersey State History Fair. I was there to represent Howell Farm, along with two of the horses and a handful of farming colleagues.

I was bedecked in the clothes of a late nineteenth century farmer, meaning I was wearing pants with suspenders that pulled up to about my belly button, maybe higher. All around me were a mash of historical figures – Revolutionary War soldiers, Civil War soldiers, singing pirates, and pretty ladies in those Victorian dresses that make their waists look like toothpicks.

One impression I was left with was that that children's games of yesteryear were poor at best. At the games exhibition, kids were left to beat a hula-hoop-shaped ring with a stick to see how far they could get it to roll. That was it; that was the game.

At another exhibit, however, kids could get their hands on a wooden rifle and go through drills with a Continental officer, everything from fake loading to fake firing to fake charging the enemy. Comparing these good times to the hula-hoop game, I understand now why the Continentals were so eager for a fight.

I think Howell had a good showing as well. Out in a nearby field, kids lined up behind the horses and took turns steering the plow for a few yards. I think the best moment was when Abraham Lincoln himself walked up and showed us peasants how it's done.

A FARMER FROM NEPAL

Ramachandran, a Nepalese farmer, is the newest intern to start at the farm. He is scheduled to be here for the next 8 months.

First, a short briefing on his homeland:

Wikipedia tells me that 8 of the world's 10 highest mountains are located within Nepal, including Mt. Everest. The country is bordered by Tibet on the north and India on all other sides. Until 2006, Hinduism was Nepal's official religion. Buddhism also has a strong presence in the country. The birthplace of Buddha Siddhartha Gautama is located in southern Nepal.

Rama lives within 5 kilometers of Pokhara, the second largest city in Nepal. This region is known for getting a lot of rain, and for its sharply rising elevation. According to Wikipedia, which has never led me astray, "In no other place do mountains rise so quickly." Rama says many foreign tourists come to his corner of the world for "rafting and enjoying."

Rama is about 30 years old and already owns his own farm. He grows vegetables, including cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes, and radishes. He is married and has two children, ages 5 and 2. While he's gone, his two brothers will work his farm and keep everything going.

I don't know yet exactly why Rama has decided to come to the United States. His English is limited. But I do know that he came through a program called "Multinational Exchange for Sustainable Agriculture," which is sponsoring him. He will learn to work with oxen in more efficient ways (as well as other sustainable farming methods), with the goal that he will be able to return to his country and spread the knowledge.

In my first, difficult conversations with Rama, I've been able to ascertain one reason why he and the farmers he lives near don't use tractors. The hills are so steep that oxen work much better. He's the first farmer I've met for whom draft power isn't a luxury but a necessity, which makes me reappreciate a lot of what I've been learning these past few months.

I also learned that Rama rides a motorcycle. That's cool.

VIDEO: LAMB CAM

FARM READING PART II

One aspect of old-timey farming I haven't been able to get into is old-timey reading. The farmhouse has bookshelves lined with dusty tomes (tombs, really) on every imaginable farming discipline, most published decades ago.

During coffee breaks of the past week, I noticed Intern Tom was eagerly devouring the pages of an old, thick book devoted entirely to the topic of feeding horses. That guy's going to be a great farmer. Meanwhile, I was flipping through the latest issues of Wired and Popular Mechanics, which I smuggled into the nineteenth century as contraband.

For some people it's the nutrition of horses, for others it's American Idol, but the subject I've been crushing on these past months is the technology of alternative energy. I think energy, like food, is one of the elemental human commodities. The acquisition, production, and use of energy is again and again at the core of big issues, no matter what point in history you're looking at.

Big changes to the way we make and consume energy are now looming because of peak oil and global warming. I'm endlessly interested to read the latest article that claims to know what's going to happen next, or what new technology will be the one to rise up and save us. I find it all fascinating, just as good as following the Yankees.

Plus, this stuff is important. The ripple effects of our energy dilemma are already starting to crash on distant shores. Skyrocketing food prices around the world – there have been riots because of them from Haiti to Bangladesh – are largely attributable to American farmers growing more corn for ethanol fuel and less crops for food. Another contributing factor to the food crisis is recent droughts around the world, which many scientists say are made worse by global climate change, which, in turn, is largely caused by the release of carbon in the atmosphere from the burning of fossil fuels. It's all connected in its own weird, complicated way.

In my ongoing, informal survey of the American media as it writes about alternative energy technologies, I've read many articles that seem pretty impressed by one particular technology, and then the next week another, and then the next week another. I think the best writers point out that it will probably be a cocktail of technologies that will help us produce renewable energy in the near future, and that no technology has yet seen the big, game-changing breakthrough needed to compete on cost with coal and oil.

More recently, though, I've noticed a few large trends -- adjustments in the conventional thinking of the amorphous, floating blob that is the collective consciousness of the people who write about renewable energy for major publications:

- Corn ethanol is on the outs. Many writers now seem to be in on to the idea that corn as fuel does more harm everywhere than good.

- Hydrogen cars vs. electric cars used to be a debate, but now most writers seem to have come to the understanding that hydrogen is a long way off. Many articles in the past year or so have touted plug-in hybrid vehicles as shaping up to be a really good near-term solution to our transportation needs. Even though these vehicles haven't even arrived yet, they're already starting to feel like old news.

- Newest on the mass media's radar seems to be solar thermal power. In just the past two months or so, it seems to me that this technology has gone from being considered just another good idea to maybe THE great idea that will actually help us wean off coal.

Time magazine references it on page 44 this week, and here's an article from Salon.com which comes close to declaring the world saved:

http://www.salon.com/news/feature/2008/04/14/solar_electric_thermal/

- For other clues on what might be the next big thing, I simply look at whatever Google has embraced. They're already supporting solar thermal, which has just recently gone mass media mainstream, but you might have a few second left to get in early of high-altitude wind energy:

http://www.google.com/corporate/green/energy/

POTATO

Saturday was a day of potato planting.

In order to grow potatoes, you are going to need a potato. Take you knife and cut your potato in half and then half again. Walk your four potato chucks to the nearest fresh-plowed furrow. Place your first chunk, skin-side up, into the furrow. Now, place your second chunk about 10 inches away down the furrow. Repeat this process with your third and forth chunks. Now repeat the whole process about a hundred billion times.

The following types of potatos are now resting peacefully in the soils of Howell, waiting with the oats for some rain: Green Mountain, Russet, and Yukon Gold. I'm told the Russets make the best French fries.

One successfully planted chunk will sprout as many as five or six new potatoes. They should be ready to harvest in September.

VIDEO: WEEDING OATS

In this latest masterpiece of cinéma-vérité, Tom weeds a field of young oats.

EATING HAS NEVER SEEMED SO COMPLICATED

Intern Tom and I have been making the rounds after work to the small farms of Central New Jersey – several organic vegetable farms, an orchard, and two grass-raised cattle ranches among them.

I've enjoyed our trips. They've reminded me what a beautiful place my home state remains to be in its most pastoral pockets. I've been all across the country and I think its green hills and fields are outshone by none.

These visits (in addition to my recent reading, and the natural observations that come with living on a farm for the first time) have also caused me to think more about the food I consume.

I've never been a vegetarian, and I doubt I ever will be, but I don't really like the alternative either – continuing to eat meat from cows, pigs, and chickens that live unhealthy lives in factory-like conditions. I bought my first pound of grass-fed ground beef a few weeks ago from a local cattle farmer, and this is what I think I purchased:

- The knowledge that the cow I was eating lived in a way that seems decent to me. It roamed a pasture eating grass, which is exactly what a cow will do when it is left to do as it pleases.

- The hope that the beef I was eating was healthier than the beef I would get from a cow raised in a feedlot and forced to gorge on corn and often worse.

- The further knowledge that my money was going to support a local farmer, whose farm might otherwise become a cement factory or something other than the beautiful natural vista it currently is.

In my idealized future, I'd like all the meat I consume to come from local, organic farmers who raise their animals humanely. Maybe one day I will follow through on this. But even in the last week, I've eaten many servings of the "other" meat. Why would I do this?

Two of the biggest reasons are certainly cost and convenience. The pound of ground beef I purchased fetched about $6. That's expensive, especially on an intern's salary. I could afford it if I was dearly committed to the notion of eating Good, but so far the temptations of Cheap have won out. The other factor is Easy. Meat that comes from factory-raised animals is nearly ubiquitous. Especially when I feel like grabbing a quick bite at a restaurant, or I have the option to eat a free sandwich lying around the farm, the convenience of just shoving the food in my mouth and chewing often wins out over some vague moral misgivings floating around the old Superego.

So, clearly, I'll be need to make a decision one of these days either to man up and eat only Moral Meat, or else strike some sort of balance that may at least be better than nothing.

Some of the same eating dilemmas trouble me as I browse the fruit and vegetable aisle of the supermarket these days. I know that the cheapest vegetables are often the ones grown with the aid of chemical fertilizers and pesticides. This produce is then shipped across the country, sometimes the world, in order to reach my supermarket -- using up valuable fossil fuels and contributing to global warming. The local organic stuff? Once again, it's often the most expensive. I've heard that subscriptions to some local CSAs run more than $700 a year.

I'm still trying to figure out what is the most responsible yet reasonable way to make my food-buying choices. There are many variables to consider, and economics is certainly one of them. I was talking to Tom today about this, and the ideology he's arrived at is roughly this:

Buying local does the most good. Organic local is best. Falling short of that, when choosing between local non-organic, and non-local organic, go with the locally grown food.

That sounds reasonable to me.

Better yet, if you can: Tend your own garden.

One other thought that didn't seem to fit anywhere else: The pigs we are raising on the farm seem so friendly and doglike to me that I might just have to give up pork altogether.