On Sheppard Farms, fig bars have become an unlikely cattle-handling tool.

Mason Dixon Farms stands today as both a working dairy and a living record of American agricultural history, with its roots stretching back to the earliest years of the nation. Located on both sides of the Pennsylvania-Maryland line, the farm encompasses roughly 2,900 acres and milks 1,700 Holstein cows in a double-24 parallel parlor.  

Farming runs deep in who we are. It’s not just what we do – it’s how we measure our days, our years and often our worth. There are moments of pride that few other professions will ever know. But alongside those victories comes a quieter truth that many farmers carry alone – constant pressure.

By the time he was 10 years old, Taylor Smith was already recognized by his community as a promising young farmer. He’d started to build his cow herd. He was handy with equipment. His work ethic was unmatched by anyone else at his elementary school. But Taylor wasn’t interested in the recognition. He just wanted to be on the farm.

A mad scientist.

That’s what Kimberly Wolter calls her husband, Bradley. She’s teasing, of course, but says it with all the affection in the world. And there is certainly more than a kernel of truth to her assertion.

For the cow-calf producer, the last couple of years have been maybe the most financially rewarding in the history of the beef business in the U.S. Many people talk about the strong financial performance and how that could lead to beef herd expansion in the next couple years, and the “10-year cattle cycle” would agree, but for how long?

In 1993, the Eusi family left their dairy farm in Switzerland, arriving in southwestern Ontario with a vision for building something that could support not just one generation, but many to come.

“He’s probably one of the most successful farmers I know,” says Kyle Rupp of his dad, Gary. “He started from the ground up and made all of this possible.”