For four generations, Caldwell Farms’ cattle have grazed in the fertile fields of the Androscoggin River valley.

Once one of the strongest dairy areas in the state, the valley has seen milk production all but dry up.

“I can remember when there were 17 milk stops on our road,” Ralph Caldwell reflected during a recent tour of his farm. “Now there is one.”

Today, the Caldwells’ herd of 550 beef cattle – Black Angus, White Face Baldies, Herefords – augment their organic dairy and a thriving sawdust, shavings and compost business. “The secret to making money farming is to make money from every aspect of the business,” said Caldwell’s daughter and business partner, Dee Dee Caldwell.

More and more often, Maine farmers like the Caldwells are turning to beef cattle to save the land and augment their dairy businesses.

“This is the only way we can remain farming – to diversify,” Ralph Caldwell said. “The joke of the day in Maine is that you can’t farm unless your wife is a registered nurse.”

Part-time cattlemen

There are approximately 30,000 to 40,000 beef cattle raised each year in Maine – the state’s largest livestock animal raised for meat. The value of the industry is estimated at $20 million, according to the Maine Department of Agriculture.

Maine is perfect for livestock production, department officials said. Its abundance of natural resources and climate are exceptionally suited for raising livestock, and it is the only New England state that has adopted the nationally recognized Beef Assurance Program, which sets quality standards. Also, a growing number of Maine consumers are concerned about the treatment and care of food animals and are recognizing that the state’s small-scale farming methods reduce animal stress and disease.

Officially, there are 120 members of Maine’s Beef Producers Association. But unlike the megaproduction cattle farms in the West and South, Maine’s beef producers are often part-time cattlemen. They are chiropractors with six Angus in the field, automobile mechanics who raise three Herefords to pay their annual taxes, or town selectmen with small herds of beef that supplement their retirement funds.

“We take 28 months to finish a beef,” Ralph Caldwell said. Finishing beef means readying it for slaughter. In the West, beef can be pushed to the slaughterhouse at 14 or 16 months.

“We do it right here, rather than doing it to get rich,” Caldwell commented.

Maine is never going to see truckloads of branded cattle heading to out-of-state markets, agricultural experts and farmers agree, but those who are growing beef in Maine are reporting solid markets and a healthy interest by consumers.

“Maine has a growing number of people that are entering the industry and interested in expansion,” Joseph Schuele, president of the National Cattlemen’s Beef Association, based in Colorado, said recently. “Maine’s industry has some momentum.”

“We’re still a huge importer of beef,” said Dee Potter, beef expert with the University of Maine Cooperative Extension in Aroostook County. “But Maine has a strong local market. So many of Maine’s beef go into the neighbor’s freezer. It sometimes is as simple as wanting to know where your food comes from and visiting the farm to see how the animals are fed and raised.”

“There has been somewhat of a renaissance in beef production here in the past five or 10 years,” said Ron Howard, president of the Maine Beef Producers Association. “Part of that is due to Maine’s infrastructure. We have a lot of open pastures and former farms.”

Part of it is due to the “eat local” movement and major national food scares about the safety of food “from away.”

A fragile industry

With the industry built on small, part-time farms, however, it is so precarious that one false step, one rumor, one misstatement can spell disaster.

Caldwell Farms experienced this firsthand earlier this year when seven of its sides of beef just happened to be hanging in a slaughterhouse cooler at the same time as a side determined by state inspectors to be contaminated. The defiled side had a speck of “haylage” – stomach contents – on its neck, enough to recall all of the meat being stored in the cooler.

Even though there was nothing wrong with the Caldwell Farms meat – bacteriological testing by the state determined it was fine – it was condemned by the state, confiscated and recalled.

“We had no way of proving that our sides didn’t touch theirs,” Dee Dee Caldwell said. Despite a request by the Caldwells to use the meat to feed their own family and employees, the state required it to be buried.

A more fragile business than Caldwell Farms would not have survived. The negative publicity cost the Caldwells tens of thousands of dollars in lost revenue. They had been slaughtering between 14 and 35 cattle a week, but after the recall they are now slaughtering just three a week.

“We originally lost $6,000 worth of meat and have been losing $7,000 a week in sales since, and we’re still counting,” Ralph Caldwell said.

“We have to make up $200,000,” Caldwell said. “I’m going to be a developer.” He has already approached the town of Leeds regarding turning some prime grazing land into house lots – what farmers bemoan as their last crop. Caldwell is selling off land rights because that is his biggest asset. “You can walk on my bank account,” he said.

That such a devastating event could happen to Caldwell, the state’s largest organic beef producer, is most extraordinary because his is a business where farming is done right. The family has made a commitment to a very high-end product and highly responsible farming practices.

Cows are treated humanely, the land is revered and environmental issues are not ignored. All employees get paid vacations, full health insurance and benefits. “It costs us 60 cents a day per animal just for bedding,” Ralph Caldwell said. “For one 37-year employee, we pay $13,000 a year for his insurance. But how can you not take care of a man like that?”

“Because we are organic and responsible, it costs us two to three times what it costs others to raise beef,” Dee Dee Caldwell said. “We deal with two types of customers, those that want to buy from local farmers and those that purchase organic meat.”

‘Don’t quit your day job’

Potter of the Aroostook County Cooperative Extension office said that beef farming is still a part-time venture for most producers.

“For the most part, Maine follows the national trend of small herds, 20 to 25 on average,” Potter said.

Ralph Caldwell points out that using the land for other types of production can be far more profitable than beef.

“One acre of strawberries can yield $12,000 to $15,000 a year,” he said. “That same acre in hay would yield $250 to $500. I have a friend with eight acres of mixed vegetables that is making a very comfortable living in six months of the year.”

Schuele said there are challenges to beef production in any part of the country, but there are also advantages. “In Maine, you have shorter grazing seasons, but you also have pretty reliable moisture,” he said.

“In the Eastern states, beef production helps preserve the rural heritage and open space. It has a real positive influence on the quality of life, keeping land undeveloped yet productive. A field of grazing cattle looks a lot better than rooftops and strip malls.”

Schuele said that the massive cattle ranches out West are “the exception rather than the rule.” Maine’s small beef operations are right in line with production across the country.

Maine’s small pockets of production indicate the challenge for the industry’s future, Potter said.

“These producers can’t afford [to raise only beef]. It’s really all about economy of scale,” she said. “There isn’t a fix to that either. It’s just part of the industry. I get calls all the time from folks who want to get into beef production and the first thing I tell them is ‘Don’t quit your day job.'”

Potter said as the local and organic markets grow, there will be a need for more cows and genetics will improve, but right now “the beef industry just holds its own.”

MBPA President Howard of Aldemere Farms in Rockport manages a herd of Belted Galloway beef cattle.

Beef production in Maine may be on a small scale, he said, but it is not just a hobby. “It is far better than that,” he said. “It is a combination of farms and farmers that want to continue farming. It keeps the land active and in use.”

Howard said that Wolf’s Neck’s branded beef sold in Hannaford stores has generated much interest among Maine consumers for local, natural beef, and he sees that as a trend.

“The whole ‘eat local’ drive and people’s interest in buying from someone they know is only going to grow,” he predicted. “Wait until those unfamiliar with local beef try it. They are going to be very pleasantly surprised at the high quality of our products.”

Ralph Caldwell said that a “country of origin” labeling requirement would hugely boost Maine beef sales. “Consumers are eating beef from Mexico, Australia and New Zealand and they don’t even know it,” he said.

He also said a national ethanol policy would also help. “Our grain costs have doubled since last fall,” he said, because so much corn is being diverted for ethanol production.

The bottom line, however, is that if Maine consumers want quality beef, they need to endorse Maine farmers, Caldwell said. “We can’t compete with the Midwest due to state subsidies, a climate that grows seven crops of alfalfa in a single year, tax credits and immigrant labor. But if Maine people value open space, the jobs that local farms create and a high-quality product, they should be supporting Maine beef.”