10/21/2026
WE WILL DIE FOR OUR LIVESTOCK!
Until today, Carmen was the only person who had ever seen these videos. They've sat on my phone for almost eight years, and I've never shared them publicly. Even now, watching them brings back emotions I haven't forgotten.
October 18th, 2018. I got a call that no rancher or farmer ever wants to receive. My pasture was on fire.
That pasture was 30 minutes away. I had two small kids in the truck, so I drove 140 km/h to get them to my parents' place, dropped them off, and raced down the grid roads at 160 km/h to get to my cattle.
In that moment, all I could think about was getting my animals out alive. When I got into the pasture, I realized my cattle were scattered across nearly 1,000 acres. I started racing across the pasture, desperately trying to gather them before the fire reached them.
Cattle were running through flames. One of my bulls had actually caught fire. I called my dad, knowing there was no way he could get there fast enough to help, but I needed to hear his voice. I was scared. I remember crying on the phone, telling him I didn't know if I could get them out. That I might lose everything.
I managed to push the herd away from the flames toward an open gate, hoping I could get them into a neighbour's field. But when I swung back to gather a few stragglers, I drove my truck into a hollow and got hung up on a log.
That's when it hit me. It wasn't just the cattle that might not make it out. I might not either.
I'd spent years stockpiling grass because I knew drought was coming. That meant there was an incredible amount of fuel for that fire, and it was moving fast. The smoke was so thick I could barely see, but somehow I managed to get my truck unstuck and get the remaining cattle through the gate, with flames practically eating the back of my truck.
I remember seeing the local volunteer fire department watching from the road. There was nothing they could do at that point. When I finally got out, the fire chief tore a strip off me.
"Why the hell would you risk your life for cattle?"
I've thought about that question a lot over the years.
Because to us, they're not just cattle. They're animals we've raised, cared for, and taken responsibility for. They depend on us, and when things go wrong, we're the ones who have to be there.
As ranchers, we're stewards of the land and the livestock entrusted to our care. That responsibility doesn't disappear when things get dangerous.
Would I ever recommend someone put themselves in that position? Absolutely not. Looking back, I know how close I came to not making it home to my kids.
But that day, all I could think about was saving my cattle.
And I think that's something people who have never raised livestock might have a hard time understanding.
