Enough area farmers are steering their operations into beef that Otsego, Delaware and Chenango counties remain among the top-ranked producers in the state.
While the dairy industry remains the overwhelming producer of agriculture revenues in the area, several officials said that for a growing number of farmers, beef has its advantages.
The tri-county region has been among the top 10 since at least the 1990s, with herd numbers showing a notable increase between 2006 and 2007, the last year when state statistics were available.
In Otsego, the herd went to 3,600 from 2,500; Delaware rose to 3,500 from 2,500; and Chenango rose to 2,900 from 2,600. Though dairy herds are about five times the size of beef herds in those counties, they do not rank among the top counties in terms of milk production.
There were a number of
reasons cited by farmers and industry officials as to why beef is a growing trend.
When the barn on Gordon Fletcher's Walton farm burned down in 1995, the 55-year-old farmer said that he decided it was time to get out of the dairy business.
"I wasn't going to farm (that way) forever," he said. "It's hard on your knees and everything else."
Along with his wife, Karin, he said, "We decided to try something new."
He went right to beef, building up a herd of cross-breeds using Simmental bulls. He said that this made the stock, which totals about 70, healthier.
"Its not a big money-maker," he said about being a beef farmer, but "the business makes enough to keep farming."
And because the cattle spend eight months each year in the pasture, he can tend to them on his own, an important consideration with the shortage of labor in agriculture.
The average age of farmers in the state is about 56, said Janet Pfromm, an educator with Chenango County Cornell Cooperative Extension. For retiring dairy farmers, beef can provide an option because without twice-a-day milkings, it is not as labor-intensive, she said. Otherwise, the operations are similar.
Another farmer making the transition is Doris Moennich, 62, and her husband, Werner, 71, of Seefeld Farm in Butternuts.
"We were dairy farmers," she said. "We knew eventually we would not be able to milk cows anymore."
So the two, who were already raising belted Galloways, sold their herd of about 100 Holsteins in 2001.
"It's worked out really well," she said about the switch to all beef. They have had as many as 60 cattle over years, selling breeding stock around the country, as well as some for the freezer.
"We just wish we were younger and were able to do more," she said.
Among the advantages she cited were: not being as tied to the farm, and the price not being regulated by a governmental agency, as it is with milk.
There are about 70 different breeds of beef cattle, and about 10 to 15 are used in this area, said Cornell University beef specialist Mike Baker. This part of the country is known as pasture region because grass generally doesn't slow down in the summer. There is also a lot of land not suitable to crop production, but it produces good forage for ruminants such as beef use.
It co-exists very well with the dairy industry, he said.
As many hillside dairy operations relocated over the years, he said, this left plenty of land conducive to beef farming.
Area groups respond to trends'
Delaware County Cooperative Extension, along with the Watershed Agricultural Council, sponsored a beef tour Friday at the Davenport farm of Taylor Calhoun, said educator Mariane Kiraly. This is the sixth year such an event has given information on how to succeed in the business.
"We respond to trends," she said, and people are always asking for more information about how to get into the industry. There are some who are converting from dairy, while others want to use the land in a way that is not as demanding as dairy farming.
But there are challenges, she said, including fencing animals that are not as docile as dairy cows, and learning about breeding and genetics. Dairy and beef are not competitors, she said. Instead, they together help support the agricultural infrastructure, including equipment manufacturers and feed companies.
"Economically, we need each other," she said.
The trend has been aided by "a steady demand for locally grown beef," Kiraly said. "More and more consumers want to know where their food is coming from."
Much of the meat that goes into fast-food hamburgers comes from cows culled out of the dairy herds, she said. But meat that is in the grocery store, or cuts of meat at a restaurant, largely come from beef animals.
Calhoun, 29, has about 120 head, mostly Black Angus. The Angus Association has done a good job marketing, he said, and the breed tends to be worth more.
He is a fourth-generation farmer, he said. When his father died in 1988, the family sold its herd of 60 Holstein. An uncle got the farm started with beef in 1990, and Calhoun said he has been working full-time for 31/2 years.
"I wanted to stay in farming and this made sense," he said. "There is always a market."
He wasn't interested in going back into dairy, because with the machinery required for such things as milking and other costs, "it would require too large an investment."
The biggest advantage to beef, he said, is being able to choose where and when you sell your product, unlike with milk, which is perishable.
But like Baker and Kiraly, Calhoun said the two industries are not in competition.
"There is enough land for everyone," he said.
Local farmers, different origins
Chris Harmon, recently named executive director of the Center for Agricultural Development and Entrepreneurship, said he has been raising belted Galloways on a hilltop farm in Oneonta for about seven years.
"It was easier than dairy," he said.
Because the animals are largely grass fed, you don't have to work with them every day, he said. This allows a farmer to pursue other interests.
With the long winters in this area, he said, it's very difficult to compete against farms in warmer climates, or with those with lusher grasslands. The hilltop soils are better for raising ruminants than field crops, he said.
"What we have going for us is the growing demand for local and regional food," he said, as customers are willing to pay more for the grass-fed beef that's humanely raised.
Regarding developments the area industry needs, he cited more U.S. Department of Agriculture-inspected slaughterhouses, which are required if beef is going to be resold to restaurants or retail outlets.
If a customer wants a side of beef, that can be done through a custom processor, he said.
Julie Stannard of Stannard's Maple Farm in Cherry Valley said her father, Warren, converted from a Holstein operation about 40 years ago, after her grandfather died.
"(My father) couldn't milk the cows by himself," she said.
The operation has 28 Simmentals and sells breed stock as well as meat for the freezer. Although costs have gone up, "it's a little easier to recover them" than from milk.
Breeding stock can go from $500 to more than $1,000 for calves depending on age and genetics. A steer can weigh 800 to 1,000 on the hoof, which translates to 500 to 600 pounds when dressed. This can bring about $1.50 a pound, with prices trending up, she said.
Lonny Smith, 25, said raising beef cattle fits in well with his lifestyle, which includes involvement in a number of businesses in Deposit. His family runs a 60 Holstein dairy farm.
But working with a brother, he has developed a herd of Simmental-Angus crosses he markets through the Catskill Cattle Company.
The 2007 graduate of Cornell University said that they are the most efficient breed.
The company ships about one-to-two dozen high-quality grass-fed beef to specialty markets in the New York metropolitan area. He has been developing the business since he was 14.
"The only way to get added value (prices ) is to retain ownership from birth to market," he said. "We direct-market our meat" using a local butcher.
It is perfect for people who want to know where their food comes from, he said.
"They can come to the farm and pick out their steer."
{"Headline36"/}Custom Meat Processing
Sal's Traditional Meats in Bloomville is one of the custom meat processors in the area that works with beef farmers.
Owner Sal Sicari has been a butcher since the 1960s and bought the store in 2005.
He said he kills the animals on the farm _ often with a bolt gun that renders them unconscious, before slitting their throats. After starting the process on the farm, he brings the carcass back to the store, where it is weighed, aged and processed before being placed in the freezer.
Custom processors are prevented by law from reselling the meat, he said. That requires a USDA-inspected slaughterhouse.
Business has been increasing over the years, but he said he was unsure why. Most of the animals he processes are culled dairy cows, he said, though customers include the Fletchers in Walton, a beef farm.
