Chapter 4: Highland House Farm Stay

“One of your calves was just hit on Route 16. There might have been two of them. I thought you would want to know.” 

2,400 vehicles drive past our Greensboro Bend farm on Route 16, a long, straight stretch where cars travel at high rates of speed. It was 9:45 PM in Plainfield when the call came in from one of Ray’s fellow Greensboro volunteer firefighters. Just preparing to go to bed, Ray and I were forty-five minutes away from the reported accident. 

Hastily throwing on sweatshirts and grabbing flashlights, we ran full tilt for the pickup. The pitch-dark, rainy ride from Plainfield to Greensboro seemed endless, filled mostly with a sickened silence, occasionally punctuated by anxiety-filled verbalizations. 

“Whose calf do you think it was?” 

“How could it get down onto Route 16?”

“Will we be able to find it in the dark?”

Adding, with dread, “Do you think the anyone got hurt?” 

With two farms forty miles apart, something was always in the wrong place. If we needed the cattle trailer to move steers from Greensboro to Plainfield, the trailer was in Plainfield. If we needed to cut hay in Plainfield before it went by, the haying equipment was in Greensboro. If the power went out in Greensboro and we needed to check the water, we were in Plainfield. If a cow was calving in Plainfield and Ray was in Greensboro feeding cattle, he needed to hurry home, in case the cow needed assistance. If a paddock fence was down in Greensboro, we had to rush from Plainfield to Greensboro to repair it before an animal got out.

And if a motorist hit one of our calves on a dark, rainy night in Greensboro, we were way too far away to be of any use to man nor beast.  

We knew once we arrived in Greensboro it was going to be a long night of locating the deceased calf and being sure it no longer caused a hazard in the road,  dealing with police reports, finding out which cow had lost her calf, getting momma secured in the barn so that, searching for her baby, she would not repeat the same deadly trip onto Route 16, finding and repairing the broken fence where the escapee had gotten out, finally ending with an even more silent ride home.

Even though Ray drove the 40 miles each way to the Greensboro farm daily--sometimes twice daily--when dealing with animals, it is very hard to be offsite and intervene proactively rather than reactively.  During the twenty years we have been operating two farm properties, there have been far too many hasty jacket donning, faster than should be drives between the two farms, and elevated stress and anxiety taking a toll on our health and quality of life. On the way home, we were mostly silent, agonizing over the calf that had been killed and hoping it had not suffered when struck by the car. We were grateful that even though the car was totaled, the driver and her toddler, securely buckled into a car seat, were not seriously injured. 

The silence was broken when I blurted out what we both already knew, “We can’t keep having two farms so far apart.” 

There were complex logistical issues to address. How would we support 170 head of cattle on a property with one-sixth the acreage of the Greensboro farm? How would we replace income generated by the beef cattle on the Greensboro farm? What about the land we used in Greensboro to mow, rake, bale and wrap our winter feed?

There were emotional issues to address. Ray’s parents had created and lived out their dream of raising Highland cattle on that farm. Ray built a log cabin home across the road from that farm, raised his children there, later moving in with his parents to care for them and their Highlands. With our determination and work, the Greensboro farm had been the backbone to building our business and brand and allowed us to keep Ray’s promise to his dad to preserve his ancient Highland genetics. That farm had paid off the bankruptcy note incurred by Carroll and Leona. It paid off the loan to build a new 68’ gated barn, calving pens, a tack room, and scales for weighing cattle. It paid off the loans on two cabbed tractors, two trailers and our entire cadre of haying equipment.  And though the Greensboro farm is a workhorse of a property, it is also beautiful. With Highlands dotting the hilly, rugged terrain, you feel as if you are in Scotland. 

Carroll Shatney purchased the Greensboro Bend property in 1964 to supplement the larger home farm in North Greensboro. Shortly after purchasing the farm, Carroll hired the County bulldozer to clear a twenty-nine-acre field of trees, stumps, and stones, at a cost of $7.00/hour--for both machine and operator.  Carroll worked alongside the massive County bulldozer with his smaller farm dozer. Stone piles were discovered throughout the field; on every pile rested a rusted milk can, horse or cow skull left behind from generations past. When clearing the land, Carroll left softwood havens for the cattle to loaf in, for protection and shade. There is a young sugar wood ripe to be tapped, and clear, cold babbling brooks and streams that run all year long. 

Carroll’s Ayrshire dairy replacement heifers had moved to the barn in the Bend, built so close to the road it now sat in the Town’s right of way. No cattle had resided in that barn for two decades, but at one time three thousand square bales of hay were stored in its expansive loft. In 1980, Carroll gave the North Greensboro farm to his son Leo, built a house at the farm in the Bend and moved himself, wife Leona, and his Highland cattle there. When Carroll asked Ray to save the farm and his parents’ home from bankruptcy in 2001, there were 30 Highlands on the farm. 

Carroll spent countless hours at the kitchen table, studying his Highlands grazing on the hillside. There were always two pairs of binoculars on the kitchen windowsill. The joke was that if one of the pairs overheated from prolonged use, a backup pair would be cooling nearby. Carroll’s favorite bull, Lance of Gordon’s Fold, is buried on the Greensboro farm. Carroll’s ashes, as he requested, are sprinkled atop the now eternally resting Lance on the hillside Carroll spent so many gazing up at.

And now we needed to sell that hallowed ground.

It was important to Ray that the land continue to be utilized for farming. The purchaser needed to appreciate the gift of the land, the work and money Ray and I had put in to improve the soils, and the infrastructure we added to ensure farming success. We needed to develop alternate sources of income to replace our beef business. Pivoting to selling more breeding stock and less beef, most of our registered Highland mommas would be moved to Plainfield and bred to our registered Highland bull, producing offspring for our breeding stock enterprise. Selling Highland weanling calves, we downsized by not keeping replacements and aging out older cows when their time came.  Some Highland/Shorthorn steers were sold for others to raise, some Highland/Shorthorn heifers for breeding stock. We continue to sell beef, but rather than processing an animal every other week, it was one animal per month. 

Ray always referred to the Plainfield property as the “Fluffy Farm.” Because our Highland bull was kept in Plainfield, calves produced there were of the fluffy variety. Mostly, however, the designation stemmed from the two-acre manicured lawn and flower gardens, the gentler, rolling terrain, the newer buildings and the million-dollar view. Whenever people wanted to visit or tour the farm, it was the Plainfield property they were invited to. 

As when I was teaching, our faming required monitoring and adjusting.

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“Would you like us to meet you at the Farm Stay or would you prefer self-check in? We can leave the key in the outlet box outside the door, and you can let yourself in whenever you get here. Just text us when you would like us to stop down and say hello. We are just up the road.”

Highland House Farm Stay is a dream come true. A brand new, sleeps six, two story house with three bedrooms (master bedroom and ensuite bath on the first floor), 2.5 baths, all new appliances, propane fireplace, full basement with ping pong and foosball tables. Situated on our property, it is a few hundred from our house. From the Farm Stay’s dining room double doors or spacious deck, guests gaze at Vermont’s Green Mountains and New York’s Adirondacks--and directly into the barn at the top of the hill. When guests are present in winter Ray feeds hay outside the deck, in summer cattle graze in the adjacent paddock. As soon as a booking is confirmed, I email our Highland House Handbook. A few days prior to arrival I email Highland House Activities that guests can participate in daily if they choose. Cow and calf combing, apple and banana feeding to Ray’s massive Highland twin pet steers, or riding in the tractor are all options. 

We welcomed our first guests in October 2022. Every guest who reserved a stay at Highland House Farm Stay said they chose our venue over others because of the opportunity to meet, comb and commune with Highland cattle. All have been incredibly respectful of the home offered and eager to learn about the history of our fold, farming, and what makes Highlands special. We have met the kindest, most gracious guests from throughout the world. We never expecting out lives to be so enriched by the people who choose to stay at Highland House. It will take time to increase clientele to fully cover Highland House loan payments, but occupancy has been steady. And when the Greensboro farm is sold, we will use some of that income to pay down the Farm Stay debt.

“Look at them!” “They are so cute!” “I’ve never seen anything like them!” “Can we get closer?” “They are amazing!” “Can I touch one?”

Without fail, as guests approach the barn and see Highland cows and calves, eyes open wide, big grins spread across faces, and phones come out to start snapping pictures. Visitors are soon surrounded by Highland heifer and bull calves vying to be combed and caressed. Our guests help our calves be successful at their new homes, socializing and ensuring they will be comfortable with a variety of people. True, becoming innkeepers has added work to our already busy lives. Correspondence, laundry, stripping and making beds, keeping pantry well stocked are additional tasks I have taken on. Plowing and sanding another driveway, ensuring there are kindling and dry logs for the firepit, shoveling off the deck are new jobs for Ray. But working with the cattle is something we do anyway. Having appreciative guests from all over the world joining us in that work has been a gift that keeps giving. 

Selling the Greensboro Bend farm, consolidating our fold to the Plainfield property, and building Highland House Farm Stay has allowed us to share our gorgeous vista, our beloved heritage Shat Acres Highland cattle, the opportunity to help educate guests about humanely raised beef, sustainable and regenerative farming, and improved our quality of life. 

Highland cattle always bring good people together. The Grand Ol’ Breed has done it again!

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Chapter 3: Samantha: The History of Shat Acres Highland Cattle

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Greenfield Highland Beef Short Ribs