PTDS

During the fall of 2013, I went to work part-time for a large-scale sheep outfit in Rio Vista, California. We’d had a germinating rain in late September, but the grass got a false start - we didn’t have any more rain until November, as I recall. After Thanksgiving, we had a cold snap in Rio Vista (I woke up one morning in my trailer without hot water or a working furnace) and a bit of snow in Auburn. And then it quit raining until late January. We fed most of our year’s supply of alfalfa hay to the sheep while they were lambing in October and November.

When I took the job, I was able to bring my own 200 +/- ewes to Rio Vista as well. Even with the rain we finally received in January 2014, feed was scarce - and so I decided that we needed to sell some of our sheep to conserve grass for the operation’s ewes. Sorting through our sheep - and deciding which ones were going to go to the auction in Escalon - was probably the most difficult agricultural decision I’ve ever had to make. And as the drought persisted, I came to a mutual agreement with the ranch I was working for. They’d had to sell sheep, too - and we all decided that they couldn’t afford to keep me employed. In mid-February 2014, I hauled our remaining flock back to Placer County - just before we started lambing. From that point forward, our sheep operation remained a part-time enterprise. And I began to work full time for the University of California.

By the following winter, I was working as the herdsman at the UC Sierra Foothill Research and Extension Center in Browns Valley. We still had our sheep, but the drought persisted. That winter, I spent much of my time moving cattle around the research ranch, chasing grass. That summer, I hauled water to the cows so that we could utilize forage in pastures that had feed but lacked stock water.

These experiences stayed with me - much of my master’s degree research focused on how California ranchers responded to our 1000-year drought. As a cooperative extension advisor since 2017, much of my program has focused on helping ranchers prepare for, respond to, and recover from drought. But this winter, I’ve confirmed that I have a condition called “Post-traumatic Drought Syndrome,” or PTDS.

The symptoms of PTDS include anxiety during extended winter dry periods. As I write this, we haven’t had any precipitation in Mountain Ranch in more than three weeks. While I know we often get dry spells like this during the winter months, the lack of rain in our 2-week forecast makes me increasingly nervous. This week, I drove to Reno and confirmed that we don’t have much snowpack in the high country, either.

I remember reading about some research from Australia during our big drought that reported Aussie farmers often kept multiple weather apps on their phones. During dry stretches, they’d check each app until they found one with a more favorable forecast. I find that I do the same thing. At the moment, all of my apps don’t show any moisture for the next 10 days. On day 11, they show a chance of rain, but that chance is always at least 11 days out.

Currently, I only have four sheep - two breeding ewes and two lambs that I’ll harvest next week. I am planning to purchase a handful of feeder lambs and goats (probably a total of 20) in March to help manage the fire danger on my property. PTDS - and the potential for summer/fall wildfire - has changed the way I look at raising sheep. For the foreseeable future, I’ll buy feeder animals in the spring, and sell them when I run out of grass. I won’t keep many sheep year-round.

I know we’ll get more rain, and I know the grass will grow. I also know that I no longer rely on these things for even a portion of my livelihood. But having managed through the Big Dry of 2012-2016, I find that I’m feel the mental and physical manifestations of anxiety. I still suffer from PTDS.