Shearing Weekend

Between trade wars and pandemics, the U.S. wool market has been in the tank - especially for the coarse wool we produce. Our 2019 wool clip sits in a warehouse in Southern California. Our 2020 clip was purchased by Fibershed, a regional nonprofit, and turned into compost in an effort to develop new markets. I have no idea whether we’ll be able to sell our 2021 clip - but shearing weekend is still one of the high points of our sheep-raising year for me.

For my cattle ranching friends, branding calves is often a combination of hard work and community. Friends and family come together; the work is hard, but so is the laughter. And that’s what shearing is for me. On top of that, shearing is one of the benchmarks in our operation - the successes and failures of our last 12 months of management is written in our wool.

We don’t have the luxury of a dedicated shearing shed in our part-time operation - nor do we have enough sheep to justify hiring a crew with a shearing trailer. For the last 16 years, our friend Derrick Adamache has sheared our sheep and put up with whatever facilities we could cobble together. For the last number of these years, we’ve converted our horse barn and paddocks to a shearing shed and corrals. Since we only own about 3 acres, this also means we conserve our springtime grass at our home place for shearing weekend.

Last Wednesday, we set up portable corrals at one of our leased places. Early Thursday morning (after irrigating our rented pastures), we brought the ewes and lambs into the corrals. Hauling the pairs took 5 trips; hauling the rams added another. Shearing weekend is the only stretch of time when all of our sheep are at home.

On Friday, we set up corrals in our horse paddocks. We also brought the pairs into a pen without feed or water - fasting the sheep helps keep them comfortable (without full bladders and rumens) and the shearer safe. Late Friday afternoon, I sorted off 24 ewes (separating them from their lambs) and put them in a holding pen inside the horse barn turned shearing shed. Keeping the first sheep to be shorn under cover overnight keeps the dew off of them - wet wool can’t be packed in sacks.

On Saturday morning, we spread canvas drop clothes under and put shade over the skirting table. We skirt our fleeces - allowing short fibers to fall through the table, and removing manure tags and other defects - to improve the value of our wool. In a nonexistent market like that we’re currently facing, skirting probably doesn’t make sense - but we always want to put up a quality product. A little before 8 a.m., Derrick arrived, and we helped him set up his gear in the shearing pen. By 8:30, we were in business.

With our makeshift facilities, we shear bullpen-style. I sort 8-9 ewes out of the holding pen and run them into the bullpen. My partner Roger catches each animal for Derrick, and then makes sure that the other sheep don’t run behind the shearing gear. Once the last animal is caught, we let the shorn sheep out of the pen - and back to their lambs. This process repeats through the morning.

At midday - as the shearer, Derrick sets the exact time - we broke for lunch. I’ve always wanted to have a home-cooked meal, but since all of us are helping with shearing, we usually order pizza. By lunchtime this year, Derrick had already shorn more than half of our 107 head of sheep. I’m always amazed by his stamina and quick recovery. After an hour’s break, he’s ready to go again.

The afternoon is always the most difficult part of shearing day. We’re all tired. As the holding pen empties, we sort more ewes from their lambs (I guess the humans are tired; the dogs are always ready to work). We stomp wool into the packs. We bring the rams in last - they’re the most difficult (and dangerous) to shear.

Once we’re done, clean-up begins. We roll wool packs into the barn. We breakdown Derrick’s shearing gear. We put the sheep back on pasture. We enjoy a beer - or two. This year, we talked baseball (Derrick is a Giants fan, too) and vaccines. Finally, everyone gets a shower.

Sheep-raising, for me, is both a part-time business and a family activity. Sami always brushes the guardian dogs on shearing day. I can usually convince one of my daughters to stomp wool. Shearing day also allows us to see the sheep underneath the wool - to evaluate their nutritional status. And this year, I have to say, our sheep are in spectacular condition, despite the drought. Maybe because of the drought; while we have less forage, what we do have is concentrated. With less moisture in the feed, the nutrients are more dense. And the ewes and lambs show it!

Ultimately, we’re in the business of turning vegetation into muscle and fiber. Wool is an amazing product in that regard - the strength and length of the wool we’ve harvested from our sheep provides a record of our year. Weak and short fibers tell a story of poor feed and poor management; strong and long wool indicates success. Similarly, skinny ewes are a result of poor nutrition; well-fleshed ewes that are nursing strong lambs are indicative of good grazing over the last 12 months. Every year presents a different challenge in this regard; 2020-21 may have been short on grass, but our sheep look great!