Rancher Preaches Patience and Love of Cattle to Family
A Quiet Roundup
Bill Adrian leans forward on his mount, a 17-year-old pinto named Hawk. We're on thousands of acres of fluttering grass, rolling hills and buttes along Cut Meat Creek in south-central South Dakota, near White River.
Hawk is touching noses with a contrary Red Angus yearling determined to slip into a tree-lined draw, away from the several dozen head that Bill and his daughter, Colette Adrian Kessler, are nudging toward the ranch's main corrals.
"Tell him to get back in the bunch, Hawk," Bill says during the face-off. Within seconds, the horse steps slightly to one side, and the steer turns back into the desired direction and saunters toward the rest of the cattle.
Many of us have grown up with the movie and storybook image of cattle drives that feature the animals running and cowboys whooping and hollering amid massive clouds of dust. The reality for Bill, 87, is much more sedate, deliberate and by design.
"Anytime these animals are moving beyond their natural pace," he says, "they are burning energy and losing weight. And, weight is what you have to sell, so moving slow is the low-cost way." The result is a "roundup" that's easier on the cattle as well as the horses and riders.
BORN TO BE A COWBOY
It's hard not to take the word of a guy who's been handling cattle from a saddle for literally 84 years. At age 3, Bill saddled his Shetland pony, Ned, to help his dad go after a cow hesitant to pass through a pen gate.
"No, you get back to the side," his father, Earl, told him.
Young Billy didn't really listen. "I put the bridle on and away we went," he recalls. "I rode out there, the cow looked down at me on this little pony and then came right through the gate."
Bill Adrian has been training his own saddle horses and coaxing cattle ever since, particularly at the end of every August, when family members and friends help round up about 1,300 head that have been pasturing on the ranch since May. This past year, the family has been custom-grazing cattle owned by Nebraska-based investors.
Like a good cowboy, Bill -- and really everyone now involved in the roundup -- will patiently take the time to coax a single animal back to the desired pathway. He has emphasized quietly working cattle with his kids and grandchildren.
"It might seem to take longer to work cattle slower, more intentionally," says his daughter, "but it is better for everyone. I have seen Dad on his horse alone handle cattle more effectively than a crew of cowboys. This is like playing chess, and Dad is very good at it."
In fairness, the chess game has slowed a bit for the elder Adrian. He uses an overturned bucket to hoist himself into the saddle. Though he never lets on, spending hours in the saddle isn't easy in your 80s.
A FAMILY AFFAIR
What Bill and his wife, Donna Adrian, did -- and are still doing -- is create a place of love, support and cooperation for family and friends. Though they have careers elsewhere in the state, Colette and her daughter, Mariah Kessler, pine to get back to this ranch, this work, this life as often as possible.
"I became who I am today because of spending time out there growing up," says Mariah, the communications director for the South Dakota Soybean Association. "I've always been pulled back to it. I remember learning food production and preservation from Grandma and being sent out by horse, by yourself, to fix fence or other problems on the ranch."
Bill and Donna's son, Chuck Adrian, moved back six years ago with his wife, Bobbi, to work the ranch full time after 25 years as a car technician at a dealership in Rapid City.
"I had a good career for 25 years," Chuck says. "But, I was ready to do something different and wanted to do it while I was still young enough. My parents created an environment that people wanted to come back to. And, I wanted to help this ranch continue."
Even though both now drive about 22 miles to work (Chuck to the ranch and Bobbi to teach at a school on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in Mission), their time spent on those trips isn't any longer than their morning commutes in Rapid City.
The family has endured heartbreak. Chuck and Colette's two older brothers, Ken and Jeff, who were involved with the ranch on a regular basis have passed away, Ken from cancer three years ago and Jeff in an electrical accident on the farm 25 years ago. To this day, Jeff's wife, who lives nearby, is still a regular ranchhand.
The ranch encompasses more than 10 square miles and combines privately owned grasslands with leased land. In addition to the summer pasture rental, the family maintains a small cow/calf herd and breeds pinto horses. Their mares and colts become strong running in these wide-open spaces, training for when they'll be saddle horses capable of covering miles during work.
The family has also operated Adrian Trucking for years. Several decades ago, Bill, with the help of investments from local ranchers, established a state-certified commercial truck scale. The scale complements the trucking business and serves as a major convenience for ranchers to weigh livestock, hay, feed and grain without having to haul product miles to the next nearest scale.
The trucking business is the main reason Bill and Donna moved into White River 37 years ago -- the town offered a centrally located lot for their trucks with quick access to paved highways. Their Cut Meat Creek Cattle Co. is actually located 22 miles southwest of town on dirt-to-gravel roads.
"You don't tell a customer you can't haul their load this week because you can't get out on your ranch's muddy roads," Bill says. "We needed a better location on the highway."
COMMUNITY SERVICE
The Adrians' marriage of 62 years may be a bit shy of Bill's history as a horseman, but it's just as enduring. Donna grew up 10 miles west of White River and was attending business college in Rapid City when they met at a local dance.
"I came home on weekends because I didn't really like the city life," Donna says. "I was looking for a tall cowboy, and there was Bill at this dance."
In addition to helping manage the ranch, Donna has her own lauded history of work in the community. In 1997, her late son, Jeff, who was the county Extension agent, convinced her to sign up for the first master gardener class, ensuring there would be at least one person in attendance.
"I think we ended up with 32 people, and many of us still meet once a month," she explains. She later taught the classes herself, both in White River and on the Rosebud Reservation. She also wrote articles on gardening for area newspapers. In addition, she's volunteered for years with the Mellette County Historical Society, helping to secure a building donation for their museum.
Both Bill and Donna have served as officers in the state and national Pinto Horse Association while showing their ranch horses. Their home's trophy case is brimming with awards from when Bill was competing in halter and performance classes.
On the second day of what is generally a three-day yearling roundup, Bill and Donna are posing for photos with the expanse of their ranch in the background. A good portion of the time she is giggling as Bill tries to hug then kiss her. This is a brief respite before both go back to work.
If this were a Western movie, you'd expect the tall cowboy to mount his horse and gallop into the sunset. Not here, not now. It's early morning, and Bill Adrian and Hawk move off at an easy pace, just enough to keep the cattle walking in the right direction.
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