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Black Ice in Deep Canyons – Organic Beef Matters

EXPERIENCING COMMUNITY IN THE MOUNTAINS OF IDAHO. Though we've never met, we can think of at least three things we have in common with Glenn Elzinga of Alder Spring Ranch in Idaho. First, we're both family operations. Second, we believe in authentic organic as best best way to go so we're both involved in and certified by the new family farmer 'Real Organic Project' (realorganicproject dot org). Third, we both live in isolated rural areas which get our fair share of cold and both factors have constructed our experience of community.
Glenn and his family are bonafide cowboys and cowgirls and run a magnificent organic beef operation on 11,000 acres in the mountains of central Idaho. They direct-sell their beef to individuals via mail order.
Glenn's regular missives about their ranching life are something to look forward to. And signing up won't cost you a thing. Caleb, Megan & Jim

"I could see by the tracks what happened. Peterbilt hit the curve and kept going straight on the ice, hit the cliff, nearly flipped over as the right wheel attempted to climb it and instead whipped the truck around, snapping the trailer off in a split second. It was a miracle all didn’t go in the deep waters.

"Many do. My mind flashed back to a turn a few miles downstream where I pulled a home health care nurse out of her Toyota hatchback, partly submerged in the frozen river waters a few years back. She was only wearing her scrubs, now soaking wet in the subzero cold, caught blindsided by black ice while heading for an appointment to one of the elderly residents of the canyon. My timber partner and I helped her up the steep rocks to the highway, put the heat on full blast, and dropped her off next to a woodstove, phone and coffeepot at the Sportsmen’s Bar, the only watering hole along the river canyon in those days. Her husband would come retrieve her from Salmon in another hour."…/the-road-through-the-salmon-…/

Black Ice in Deep Canyons – Organic Beef Matters

Dear friends and Partners “Are you OK?” I tried to gain eye contact of the obviously more than a little dazed driver. His jeans were freshly shredded, coat impregnated with the reddish ocher of Salmon River cliff-rock, and had a few fresh and bloody scrapes and bruises on his ruddy complexion. H…