It was exactly 40 years ago this summer that a young land management student from the Lake District found himself doing a summer grain harvest on the Southern Cotswolds, a world away from the hill farming he had been brought up with.
Cotswold Brash isn’t really soil. It’s a mix of organic matter, and rock shards ripped from the Jurassic limestone but a few inches below. It may be very rich and good at growing grain crops, but it is very stony and very thin!
Talking of the 80’s this was the time of increasingly bouffant permed hair for the lady and the original “Gerald” mullet for the gentleman. Bring it back I say! And talking of Clarkson’s Farm brings me nicely round to the harvest. All those mistakes that the big man made during his first harvest working with Kaleb, well that was me and my boss Bob! I couldn’t line the trailer up under the Combine pipe, kept undershooting then overshooting. The air was blue from Bob on the walkie talkie. Finally in utter exasperation as another hundred-weight of barley went over the back of the trailer, he said in his thick West Country burr,
“Oi’ll tell you what we shall do. Oi’ll stop the Combine, have me self a smoke, and even you won’t miss the pipe” before adding, “hopefully”. And that is how we worked, just the two of us, for it was a small family farm. Day after day, up and down the roads of Crudwell, carting back to the farm in the summer of 86.
One day I arrived back at the storage barn with my 10-tonne trailer, tipped it up and next to nothing came out. Somehow, I had not secured the trailer door correctly. I had successfully deposited a layer of winter barley deep and crisp and even, along the A429. I got a severe West Country cussing for that one.
With harvest done, we moved on to cultivations. Bob set me off to plough but carefully selected a field over the hill and away from any road. “I’m not having anyone see the mess you’re going to make, they might think it was me”. The very words spoken by Caleb when he set Clarkson off 35 years later. How I laughed.
Up and down those fields I went, day after day, stopping only to stretch my legs at 11am every morning and listen to Simon Bates Love Song on Radio 1. You remember the theme music don’t you? “Do Do Do Do”……..
After ploughing it was disc harrowing, the worst job ever, bouncing across the unforgiving brash. It gave me piles. Too much information? By September my work was done with only two days off in nearly three months. But I had earned enough to be able to enjoy my final year at college to the limit. In fact, I’ve never been as well off since.
How times change. I came across Bob’s eulogy a couple of years ago. He had sold the farm in the late 1980’s. He probably got sick of awful student labour! Working there taught me a basic premise for life “The harder you work, the luckier you get”. It also made me realise that my future lay back home in Cumbria. How fortunate I was to get back home and spend my working life with farming families, their sheep and their cattle, across the Lake District and the Pennines? I have been blessed.
Recently I sat in the kitchen of a hill farming family. They had spent the last two days gathering hefted sheep from the fell. They were exhausted. With a few thousand sheep from various farms now having been removed from this common alone, under environmental de-stocking schemes, their ancient hefts all but destroyed.
It had taken two days to find their sheep further down the fells, in different valleys, among steep and dangerous crags many miles from home. With visible emotion they described how they and their dogs had almost worked themselves to death. How they were scared for their lives, the dogs’ lives and the sheep that were grazing in places that they were neither acclimatised nor accustomed to. This is one of the detrimental effects of de-stocking, but it is not recognised nor understood by some conservation organisations, landed estates or those making the schemes.
Other hill shepherds have shared the same story with me. Fighting through growing swathes of bracken, increased tick infestations, sheep replaced by expanding wild deer herds. And all of this slowly but surely intensifying pressure on the sheep flocks and the shepherds that are battling on.
Farmers are a stoic lot, head down, keep going, don’t grumble and don’t let the buggers get you down. But the time is fast approaching when the critical mass of sheep we need to ensure a future for hill farming in Cumbria, and the continuation of the managed landscapes that farmers get so little credit for, may be fast approaching.
It appears that due diligence on the schemes has been limited. This is at a time when demand for sheep meat is rising, the supply is falling and the effects of the loss of hill sheep to the national industry could well be catastrophic in years to come. Auctioneers will be chasing a dwindling supply of lambs to sell to an expanding ring of customers. Agricultural suppliers will have less demand for their services as farmers reduce livestock or just give up. All of this must surely hurt the local rural economy. Perhaps this is looked upon as acceptable collateral damage in the name of nature?
All of this need not be happening, but it is, and it might be just what many of the large, landed estates and the most tunnel visioned conservation organisations want to happen. There is more money for them in environmental schemes than sheep and shepherds.
Some of us sit in partnership and stakeholder meetings like a stuck record constantly giving this narrative, but we’re being swallowed up by the nature and net zero noise. Or worse, people from other organisations contact me privately to express concern or even agree but dare not say so publicly, having to toe the line.
So farmers, auctioneers, rural business and country folk, the time has come. Either speak up or hold your peace. There may not be much time left. We will rue the day when my friends like that farming family are forced to throw in the towel for their own health and sanity.
In the meantime, my belief is that we need a moratorium on the schemes and our rural land use framework in Cumbria. We need to halt tunnel-visioned de-stocking policies, where nature and net zero trumps everything. We need to find the sweet spot that gives us viable sustainable livestock farming in improved landscapes in true partnership.
56% of UK farmland sold last year was bought by non-farmers. What is that telling us about our food security. What is manifesting is real-time destruction of Cumbrian hill-farming, the local economy and our rural communities. Death by a thousand cuts. Does anyone care? I’m not seeing it.
I do a bit if singing at weekends, sometimes in our band The Soul Survivors, sometimes as dynamic duo Only Smith and Day, and sometimes solo. Music replaced rugby many years ago when my body was starting to break, and it amazes me that a rotund old lad with a goatee beard gets bookings, but it happens!
Two weeks ago, OSD, me and guitar player Rob, played Egremont Young Farmers Christmas Social in the Market Hall. It took me back to the early 80’s when I was a member of Greysouthen YFC
Our Christmas Social was a bring and share supper in the village hall which was very handy for the Punchbowl pub on the other side of the road. My mate Bill would only eat the food his mother sent with him. The rest of us scoffed a vast array of farmhouse kitchen prepared sandwiches, pies and amazing puddings whilst Noddy Holder blasted out his trademark “It’s Christmaaaaaaas”! in the background.
As was evident at the Egremont do, my generation are now club leaders and Presidents. Indeed, Jimmy Crichton did a sterling job handing out the club prizes and trophies before a large crowd of young farmers from many other clubs, who had come to support.
A while later as me and Rob worked through our first set, an eclectic mix of genres including a few Irish and country tunes so beloved of young farmers there came an unexpected request. Could we possibly do some reels and country dances like the Gay Gordon’s and a Strip the Willow? It took me back to my Greysouthen days when we too learned traditional dancing.
Luckily, we can play this music and as the first tones of the accordion tunes rang out, amazingly the young farmers took their places. Where else could you go from The Killers to a Canadian Two Step?
What a community. Teaching old fashioned values in the modern world. Prizes for stock judging, valuation and field day competitions. A floor full of people young and old engaged in a St Bernards Waltz and of course the consumption of a Christmas drink or two. Twas ever thus!
Right now, those young people entering the farming industry in whatever role they are taking, must be wondering what the future holds. DEFRA set off with every good intention, having a New Entrants partnership and working group. It was challenging and frustrating and despite sound advice from many in the industry, it went wrong and then seemed to disappear altogether.
I hope it returns in future, because we will need these enthusiastic young people to be our food producers and custodians of the land. They are so keen and committed to the industry and they need to be supported and encouraged at every turn. These guys are our future and if the Young Farmers movement has anything to do with it, they will be well prepared in many ways to approach their role with confidence, knowledge and respect.
As Rob and me packed our gear away at the end of the night, many of the young farmers were getting ready to head off to town, just as I would have done all those years ago. I was ready to get home to bed.
Happy Christmas to you all. Let’s see what the New Year brings. We must approach it with the same enthusiasm as our young people. Work hard and play hard, as long as you are able.
I write a monthly blog for the Cumbria Farmer magazine. I try to keep it light hearted, but sometimes you have to have a rant! Here is my piece from September 2024:-
We are fast approaching the autumn sales. It seems to have been a rough year weather-wise right from the start. Wet and cold, we hardly seem to have seen the sun. Many of my farmer pals in the hills may be glad to see this year’s lamb crop get away. The only solace may be the fact that there is good demand for breeding sheep buoyed up by confidence in the sector and rising demand for sheep meat.
I was a trainee auctioneer at Lazonby in the late 80’s when sheep numbers across the land were at maximum. This was of course driven by government policy with headage payments encouraging farmers to keep as many breeding sheep as they could. This fact is either not known or conveniently forgotten by those wanting to see a continued diminution in sheep numbers in the hills in order to drive a different agenda.
There was a huge furore in 1987 when the brand-new Penrith Mart at which I started almost as it opened in July, was not actually big enough to hold a sale in early September of 17,000 Mule Gimmer Shearlings or Thaves to our southern friends. The decision was taken to move the sale to the long-established Lazonby Mart, also run by the same auction company and located a few miles to the North West of Penrith. Lazonby was known nationally as one of the foremost sheep markets in the land with buyers flocking there from Cornwall to Caithness.
That day auctioneer Gordon Teasdale rattled through the sale, rarely travelling more than £5 to £10 on any lot and finished by early afternoon. The sheep were often going the ring through in multiples of 100 and being bought by farmers and large estates from across the UK. The headage payment was of course a major influence.
As a trainee, I was manning the gates either in or out of the ring, often to the cry of “He takes the lot, 300 to you Sir, let them be going Adam-Lad”. They were often gone before the hammer had even fallen! A constant and perpetual motion of sheep, moving from sellers pen, to sale ring, to buyers pen, and then onwards to a new farm and a new flock.
Today the sheep industry is far removed from what it was. The sheep breeds are pretty much the same. Some would debate whether they have improved or not as there are always “trends” and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The traditional and precious skills of upland flock management and the local knowledge on common, fell and moor are still there, but many hill farmers fear the future right now. They are under attack.
Headage payments are long gone, replaced by evolving and far from complete environmental payment schemes. Now in some areas of Cumbria and Northumberland, shepherds protest that that have been left with too few sheep with which to manage the upland environment and make a living, the payments offered being too meagre.
Natural England, a non-governmental organisation with seemingly governmental power has very fixed ideas on how many sheep should live on the hill wishing in some areas to introduce a blanket sheep stocking rate. In some harsher parts of Cumbria, this will be right. On many commons it will be way wrong. That is what I hear from many shepherds and conflict continues to brew. Even more conflict occurs when whole flocks are removed from the fell, never to return.
Many farmers do not want to be paid- off to remove sheep forever. The damage it is doing to remaining but reduced hefted flocks is all but crippling in some areas of Lakeland. Most want to find the right balance between farming and nature. This is new untested science, but that balance could be found between willing partners. Instead, in some cases farmers have been pressured with almost no choice and no debate, to remove the sheep from the hill.
Thousands of sheep buyers will visit Cumbria this Autumn as they have for decades, putting millions of pounds into the local economy. Behind every farmer you can count another 40 or so businesses that support the farmer to a greater or lesser extent. With the loss of the sheep and shepherds, the majority being displaced tenants, also goes the rural community and the bedrock of the rural economy. We’re in danger of losing it all as trees and environmental schemes replace livestock, and formerly tenanted farmhouses become Air B&B’s or second homes.
My old farming Grandfather began his working life as a young boy running errands for the slaughterhouse located close to his family home. As a teenager he progressed onto the line, and at 15 years of age was well capable of butchering animals for local farmers and butchers.
You must remember this was an austere decade following World War 1, leading up to Wall Street crash and a great global depression. No one had it easy save perhaps the odd local Lord or those owning the iron ore mines deep below the surface of the Furness Peninsula.
On leaving school Grandfather went into farm service and quickly learned that as soon as the lunchtime bell rang, he should take his place beside the other farm workers employed on the local estate. Having tried to show dedication and commitment on his first full day of employment by finishing the task in hand, he arrived late to the lunch table to discover that all that was to be had was a salt and pepper sandwich. Everything else had gone. “And go steady on the salt young Jackson.”
Moving home to work in an expanding family coal merchanting business meant that many years down the line, he was able to achieve a dream, buying a small farm to rear beef and sheep, thus reversing an unfortunate family circumstance in the early 1800’s when our farming forefathers were driven off the land and into the iron ore mines.
Grandfather savoured his home-produced meat at the table, and nothing more so than the fattiest lamb hotpot, which in his opinion, gathered more flavour with each warming of the pot. The young grandson’s protestation that he really did not like “the fat-bits,” was met with utter scorn. Let us not even talk about salt on our porridge.
One summer when I was young teenager working on a neighbour’s farm in my home village near Cockermouth, a prime lamb caught its head in a gate and sadly broke its neck. My old grandfather was on his holidays with us. Now long retired and barely able to walk but for the aid of two stout walking sticks, he just happened to shuffle down to the farm to see what we were busy with. Spying the deceased lamb Grandfather shouted to our neighbour,
“That lamb needs hung up and bled.” Not getting much of a reaction, Grandfather decided to pursue the conversation. “I’ll crack on and do it meself.” The thought of losing several potential meals would be unbearable to a man brought up in the 1920’s.
Farmer John was to admit to me later that this was never a favourite task, but one which most farmers have had to do from time to time. However, he could not allow a 70-year-old retired and almost disabled farmer to take on the job and it was abundantly clear that he was not going to be allowed to put it off until later!
In the 1960’s grandfather bought the defunct slaughterhouse building and converted into a house for himself. Those old boys and their wives were made of stern stuff. A different era perhaps but resilience is in-bred and is what will ensure the success of future farming generations, although we may never see the return of what Grandfather called a “proper fat lamb.” Thank goodness!
Last night i was the guest speaker at a Young Farmers Club in Cumbria, a role that i very much enjoy having been one myself many years ago. The young people were a mix of seniors already of working age, many of them directly employed on the farm or in farm- related jobs. There were also several juniors who are learning the art of healthy, respectful competition, and a mix of farming and life skills. Many of them will gain confidence to judge stock, speak at meetings and perhaps engage openly with our buying public in future. All of this, as it did for me, comes from Young Farmers Clubs.
For the last part of the meeting, as i have done a few times recently, i turned my chair around and asked them how they were doing? What they were feeling at present? What future do they envisage?
The debate that ensued was outstanding. The level of knowledge and understanding at the current political situation in the agriculture industry would have taken your breath away. If only people in government or policy makers had been there to listen. They can “engage” all they want with the rest of us at stakeholder meetings, but the discussion in the room was worth so much more than all of that.
One young man asked me what i really thought the future would be for Cumbria’s upland farmers like him. What could family farms like theirs do knowing full well that ELM cannot and will never replace BPS and that ELM with what they know at present, does not appear to work for them – Wow! Answer that in a room full of young people all desperate to farm and have a future on the land.
A young lady talked about their family farm with commons grazing. The commons group had decided not to accept a new Commons stewardship agreement. Several farms would be vastly increasing the number of the sheep on the fell as the only viable way forward because the new agreement being offered was so poor. She seemed genuinely disappointed and downhearted by this. Not perhaps what might have been expected knowing the conflict on the hills of Cumbria.
Another young lady privately expressed concerns to me that at the end of her parents tenancy she would be desperate to agree a new tenancy with the landlord for herself. Her great fear is that her landlord might not even give her the chance, perhaps taking the land back in hand to plant trees or chase other environmental money. This is becoming more and more prevalent in Cumbria. Or maybe they would just go for the highest rent offered, this despite the fact that two generations of the family had farmed the land to the best of their ability and will leave the farm in a far better environmental state than they found it. She asked me if there was anything more that she could do.
So many more young people expressed fears and concern. There was not a lot of joy in the room. Indeed there was a level of stress apparent that should not be there for young people at the start of, or prior to commencing their working lives. Perhaps the level of debate around farming family kitchen tables is increasing. Perhaps our young people are listening, sensing or even engaging in difficult conversations about the future of farming, patricularly in the hills.
I believe that this is a micro-cosm of where we are in farming and rural land use today. Whilst government officials continue to publicly extoll the virtues of ELM and its progress, the reality on the ground is far from the company- line.
I tried to give them some hope. “Stick in” i said. “We’re in for a rough few years but we will come out of the other side”. Some will not…. “Things may be different, but your buying public will need you much more in future”. I hope my words were not hollow.
Against the background squelch of anti- farming rhetoric chasing around social and other media, i offered an accolade and a pat on the back. “The work you do in producing food, rearing livestock many of which will go on to be the backbone of flocks and herds across the country, and managing the landscapes that bring 20 million people to Cumbria is so important. You and your families help make our beautiful County what it is”.
I then told them that they were vitally important to the future of Cumbria as is the case in the Yorkshire Dales and Northumberland as well. Their job description will say “farmer and environmentalist”. That’s no bad thing, in fact what a huge responsibility and one which needs time, confidence and trust to learn and embrace. Far longer than the transition period of ELM.
I only hope that their role is adequately rewarded and respected over the next few years, before food production becomes a real thing again, as it surely will. If that is the case, something needs to change, and quickly. I’m afraid i don’t buy in to the government rhetoric that we’re on course and on track in farming and other rural land use. Here’s hoping, but i won’t hold my breath!
The National Federation of Young Farmers Clubs has a simple tagline, “Fun, learning achievement”. It also says that membership is for anyone who appreciates the countryside and rural life. What is clear is that their current members will have a tremendous amount to offer in future. Let us hope, especially in productive yet beautiful places like Cumbria, the Yorkshire Dales and Northumberland, that they get a fair chance. Right now, many are clearly very concerned. I wish we could do more for them.
As a child I was always told to tell the truth, admit my mistakes and apologise before the untruth was found out. I can’t in all honesty say that I carried that mantra through to adulthood completely, but then who does? Most auctioneers of course! But certainly not those people in the higher echelons of national politics going by recent events.
My mother used to say, “Lies will come back to bite you”, and generally speaking, as a child they usually did. We’ve all been in that position, and it is remarkable how often large teeth marks are left in people’s derriere.
Last year I saw a spoof photo of a well- known politician with an extremely unruly mop of blond hair. The photo showed him talking on his mobile phone expostulating that he personally was going to take full responsibility to make something happen immediately. Behind him there was an advisor saying, “Excuse me Sir, just to let you know, there is no phone signal here”.
This reminded me of an incident in a Cumbrian auction mart many years ago when a prime sheep buyer was proudly showcasing one of those new- fangled mobile phones. As he walked around the auction office with phone to ear, he could be heard saying in a very loud voice,
“Yes I need light lambs. I’m as fit as fire today. I’ve got people on for me all over the country”. The conversation appeared to bounce back and forth with other sheep buyers in rapt attention. And then the most amazing thing happened. Mid- sentence as he was listing how many sheep had been bought for him in each market across the UK, his phone rang!!! with that well known shrill and annoying jingle from the 1990’s that got on everyone’s nerves.
He could have played it cool and pretended that the signal had been lost and that the other person had rung him back. But these were the early days of mobile phones, and this thing looked like a brick. The sheep buyer had only just got it and couldn’t work out how to stop the “diddle- lala, diddle- lala” ringtone. Frantically he pressed all of the buttons passing it from hand to hand like a hot potato. The other buyers laughed loudly and in the end in desperation the phone was dropped on the floor.
You can imagine the banter in the ring for the rest of the sale. If nothing else, it proves the point that “lies come back to bite you”. Many of us within the farming community hope very much that this is further proven in future as we remember the words of a Conservative minister regarding the farming industry,
“If you have high standards here, and then you allow food in from elsewhere, you are not really contributing to higher animal welfare and environmental standards, you are simply off- shoring those lower standards – and that is wrong”, said Michael Gove on Countryfile. Should that dreadful scenario become a reality, then my advice to him and his mates would be “best wear some thick pants”. By the current direction of travel, it would appear they need to wear Kevlar.
A wise fellow told me recently “Community is more powerful than beaurocracy”. After watching events unfold today in the Netherlands, i am drawn to conclude that the man was right!
What is happening to some Dutch farmers in the name of the environment is truly shocking. The government is “offering” to buy- out thousands of farms in order to slash the use of nitrogen fertiliser and cease agricultural emmissions in the country. The livelihoods of farmers and the future of food production appears to be justifiable collateral damage as they are hung out to dry by the politicians.
If farmers don’t accept, they are being threatened with what the attached press report says is an “Expropriation Scheme”. The sensible conservation organisations are even saying “Hang on a minute! This is not entirely the farmers fault”.
There are parallels with UK farmers over the last century in that they have all been systematically supported and encouraged to produce food at all costs for several generations. The Women’s Land Army during World Wars, rationing coupons, and intervention buying are all but forgotten.
No one remembers that farmers were asked by successive governments to keep more livestock, rip out hedges, drain wetlands and farm every inch of the land that could be ploughed in order to feed a starving hungry people. Today farmers are being held accountable for those policies and blamed as the root of the evil. UK food security isn’t really on the political table.
Now the Dutch people are standing up for their farmers and rural communities. They don’t want this! They have voted in solidarity for the new Farmer- Citizen Party which last night won the country’s provisional elections. Who does want this sort of rural land- use policy? Well actually a small but very powerful group of people in the UK might. Some with vested interests, would love to see this re- enacted across Rural England. There’s money in it, in fact large amounts. Whilst there are many who see a genuine need to change the way we manage the land, and in many ways they are not wrong, there are others sniffing an opportunity.
Even now across the UK there are landed estates, some private, some corporate, getting rid of tenants as soon as they can, either to sell land to enable large- scale greenwashing investment, or to plant their own land for their own gain. All of this is generously funded by Government through new planting and environmental schemes. There’s more profit in this than can ever be made out of letting land to tenants, and there’s a perfect facade to hide behind – “we’re saving the planet”! But what of the farmers and local communities?
The average length of tenancy across the UK is now a pitiful three years. Three years does not give a tenant farmer time to settle, raise a family in the local community, invest in the land and business and build a life. It’s a far cry from the old days of the protected multi- generational tenancies that allowed sons and daughter to take over from their parents and their parents before them. Now the loss of every tenant replaced by trees, drives another nail into the heart of a community. It also prevents talented young people from committing to the industry in a tried and tested way, by taking on a tenancy.
These are disturbing times for rural folk in the UK, and especially those connected with farming and food production. Farmers are not blameless and there is an absolute duty on them to leave the natural environment in a far better shape than they found it. It is not unreasonable to think that the scenes in the Netherlands may one day be played out in the UK as thousands of acres of productive food- producing land is re- appropriated and re- purposed in the name of the nature and climate change.
The equitable solution is for government to work up a set of rural land- use policies that balance farming with nature, where both thrive, and develop in harmony. Farming has to change for sure, but with it should come opportunity, stability and trust. Right now we’ve a long way to go. Meanwhile we watch developments across the water with interest. More than 20 million people from all over the world visit Cumbria each year loving the landscapes, the Cumbrian people, the sheep on the hills and cattle grazing in the valleys. I wonder how many would join a UK Farmer- Citizen movement if they realised that the county they love to visit may be under similiar threat. Time may tell……
“There are people on the pitch, they think it’s all over – it is now”! How I jumped up from the kitchen table and cheered as Geoff Hurst thumped the ball into the top right- hand corner of the German net. It was only a re- run of the 1966 football world cup, but I was lifted up.
Recently we haven’t had much to cheer about and not much of a feelgood factor. We’ve just gone about our lives as best we can. It pains me to say that we are not over the worst. Once the virus is beaten, it’s going to take a long time for the economy to recover. In agriculture we are in danger of being sucked into a short – term comfort zone. For most farm businesses, things ain’t so bad although there are of course a few exceptions. Constant reappraisal is going to be required. Where are we now and where do we want to be?
My feelings have not changed. Longer term, Cumbria has a bright future. The visitor economy if It can survive the current crisis, will recover to a stronger position. If we can ally farming and food production alongside the tourist sector to a much greater degree, then let us not miss the opportunity. Local food, produced, marketed, and consumed ethically and sustainably within the county is a great public good to be able to deliver.
The limitations of the grand global market have been exposed as have the mistruths about UK farming on climate change and greenhouse gases. Methane production from ruminant animals has been going on since first we crawled out of the primordial soup and “chowed” on a grassy tuft. What were the lifetime emissions of 100-ton Sauropods over the 120 million years they roamed the Earth? Annual gas losses from oil extraction emit twice as much methane to the atmosphere than the entire global bovine population? Time for some perspective, then let’s go forward in the right way.
I know some who will accuse me of being a little Englander, but it isn’t that at all. I’m talking about best use of our local resources. We grow grass, farm livestock, and look after the landscapes. So, when we do reduce our agriculture emissions (currently 10% of total), and contribute to making Cumbria carbon neutral (or better!), I would hope to see fair reward for farmers and a little respect!
Last week I watched a documentary re-run of the 1996 European football championship. I remember my spine tingling way back then as Stuart Pearce stepped up to take a penalty in yet another shoot- out. He had missed one in the 1990 world cup and England went out.
Now here he was volunteering to go again, stepping up to be counted. He absolutely smashed it past the Spanish goalkeeper, bottom- right, to wipe away 6 years of misery and prove he had the ultimate bulldog spirit. Again, even though it is 24 years later, I was off around the kitchen table “Get in”!
We will all need some of that spirit before this crisis is finished. It might be day by day, month by month, but we will get there.
I went off to the Royal Agricultural College, Cirencester in September 1984. To a boy from the hills of Cumbria, it was a world away from the sheltered life I had known. My parents were proud, my old farming grandfather even more so. In many ways it was a rude awakening to the harsh realities of life and people. I met some of the best and some of the worst. “Mountain Man” as i was christened by fellow students from the south, had an awful lot to learn about both. These experiences have continued through my whole career.
The qualification was everything. Rural Estate Management was the key to the door for a lifetime of working within the farming community.
Trent Lodge Hall of Residence, Cirencester – second floor right hand window – my room!
Three years later I returned to Cumbria in my battered old Mini 1000, with rather more life experiences under my belt, and a new job as a trainee land agent and auctioneer for Penrith Farmers Kidd’s. A 20 minute interview with the Managing Director, Harry Richardson secured my dream job. It was a no- brainer for me to return to my home county.
The learning was far from over. For on my very first day and less than five minutes into the job, I ran into the first of many bollicking’s off a farmer.
The brand new Penrith market on Junction 40 of the M6 was full to overflowing with trailers backed up the A66. It was pandemonium. I donned my shiny new auctioneer’s coat and headed for the calf ring to help auctioneer and now life- long pal, David Jackson. As I rounded the corner, I bumped straight into Geoff Faulder, Ewan Close Farm. A man in his late 60’s, he was clearly disgruntled, having to queue to unload calves. He looked me up and down.
“I don’t know who the bloody hell you are – Boy” he said, “but get out there and sort the bloody mess out”! With that he turned tail and left me standing open- mouthed. Things did settle down and in time Geoff became a good pal, as did his brother Jared, a top county buyer of sheep in local auctions, including his favourite, Lazonby.
Today my own college life seems a world away. Those three years were important not only to learn about my chosen profession, and get the certificate, but more widely to learn to communicate, deal with people and to gain some much-needed self- confidence. I made some good choices in the knowledge that I desperately wanted to return to live and work in Cumbria, but I also made some bad choices in other areas of my life. I wouldn’t change it, but oh boy, would i do it differently! Hey, hindsight is a wonderful thing and I’m still learning, for you are never too old to learn!
Today my auctioneering duties are part- time and still very enjoyable. I’m classed as an old hand now. It is good to work with a young team and where needed impart a little advice or just offer support where i can. I am perfectly at home dropping down livestock trailer doors or opening ring gates as much as i am in the rostrum, although there is nothing beats the buzz of a good trade when you’ve got hold of the gavel.
Five years ago i became the Managing Director of The Farmer Network based at Newton Rigg College near Penrith. I get much pleasure seeing the myriad of ways our non- profit company finds to support farmers and their businesses. Our goal has not changed since the Network was formed 15 years ago. It is to support a viable and sustainable farming community.
I enjoy talking to students on campus and have even tried my hand at lecturing in farm business management. Many students are the offspring of farmers that I grew up with. It is the circle of farming life. Those students are going through the same learning experiences as I did back in the 1980’s when the girls had big hair and big shoulder pads!
College life for todays “Aggies” is more important than ever. They are the generation that will have to work within a rapidly changing industry. It is so important that we prepare them with the necessary skills both to farm smarter and manage the landscapes in evolving ways. In our industry we start them young, encouraging a strong worth ethic and great pride in the job. In the mart, young handlers sale days are just one of the learning experiences offered.
The future of Newton Rigg college is under threat. The parent organisation Askham Bryan which owns the Penrith campus has persuaded the further education commission that the college is not viable. They have been given permission to sell the site and if this happens the sale proceeds will taken out of the county, back to Yorkshire. Too many this a cruel and unjust end to a bastion of Cumbrian farming life.
Newton Rigg Farmhouse – present home of the Farmer Network – but for how long?
Even worse is the fact that we will lose a cherished and respected seat of learning in Cumbria, the second largest red meat and dairy producing county across the country. To the farming community and indeed the wider rural community, this is an appalling state of affairs. Closure is due July 2021.
An independent Newton Rigg Land- Based Education Taskforce was formed consisting mainly of representatives from the agricultural and educational sector in Cumbria. The taskforce has been trying to formulate a plan to save Newton Rigg as a seat of learning or at least to ensure that land- based learning can continue in Cumbria in some form. I am proud to be part of the group knowing full well the importance of not only further education, but life- long learning for members of the farming community. There are currently three consortia interested in talking over the campus, and a bidding process is underway. The Land Based Education Taskforce remains in place to offer support where it can. There is still hope!
Our young people starting their careers will be brilliant farmers, food producers and conservationists, in fact the best yet, all in one package. I am convinced of this. If i have one message for them it is: – “learn and keep learning because you are never too old”.
More than 30 years have passed since the day i walked into Penrith mart with my shiny new auctioneers coat. These days my white coats are rather larger than they used to be, but i still feel the same privilege working for the farming community . Difficult though these times of change may be, i have an unwavering belief that farmers are going to become more and more important to this country. We just haven’t quite woken up to the fact yet. Time will tell!
