If you have ever driven down a country road in West Virginia, you may confirm for yourself that it is, as John Denver tells us, almost heaven. I have had this opportunity and mostly remember having to remind myself to slow down – my Western-wired lead foot is ill-suited for all those hairpin turns. But the scenery is, indeed, pretty close to heaven in my opinion.
I’ve traveled many a country road in my time as an editor at Progressive Cattle. I’ve driven down sandy red roads in the Florida Panhandle, the serpentine, heavily canopied roads of Tennessee and both Virginias, the sprawling gravel networks of Kansas and Texas, the wildflower-edged lanes of Washington state and much more.
I’ve had interesting encounters with the local wildlife as well, from a run-in with what I think were some possums on a Texas back road at 3 a.m. (thanks for nothing, GPS) to startling a bobcat while four-wheeling on the mountain roads of my home country in Idaho. I’ve dodged my fair share of kamikaze deer, antelope, squirrels, dogs, cats and even a few elk, and noted an interesting range of roadkill including the aforementioned list, along with coyotes, foxes, skunks, raccoons and, most memorably, an armadillo. I should really start a roadkill bingo card. My greatest disappointment in life is that I have been to Florida five times and Louisiana twice and have yet to see a gator in the wild.
My point is, after spending so much time traversing gravel roads all over the place, I have realized that at the core, all country roads are very similar in some essential points:
- The speed limit is a suggestion, gravity is not.
- The GPS directions are 65% likely to be wrong, but when you get far enough out in the boonies to lose cell reception, it won't matter anyway.
- Driving through mud puddles is a must.
- Never roll down the windows when you’re following a herd being moved from one pasture to another – if you know, you know.
If you have tuned into the news recently, you may have noticed that the road has gotten a little bumpy. Much of our news and podcast coverage and the beef stats included in this issue reflect that. U.S. cattle inventory numbers have continued to decline for the sixth year in a row, and beef exports are down while imports have gone up (check out our beef stats for details). On top of trade, the threat of New World screwworm (NWS) in Mexico has shut down a critical part of our live cattle import system, not to mention the dangers posed to cattle operations in the South Central and Southwest regions.
Other stressors including but not limited to tariff negotiations, natural disasters and social and political unrest throughout the world are also contributing to some pretty nasty potholes, and the recent sweeping USDA layoffs have turned our metaphorical road into a doozy of a construction zone. As with all construction zones, be prepared to slow down or take a detour, and keep an eye out for cops. A ticket is not in your budget this month.
However, it's not all doom and gloom. The U.S. remains at the forefront of global beef production, representing nearly 20% of total production and maintaining a strong presence in the export market, with our beef quality unmatched. Also, while export volume has decreased 1%, export value increased by 5%. And while the total U.S. cattle inventory did go down in 2024, it was only by 0.6%, which I would call progress.
2025, so far, has been wild, with potholes and plot twists aplenty, and it’s only July! I wouldn’t dare try to predict what’s ahead – I’ll leave that to the folks who fill the other pages of this magazine, but may I offer some thoughts for the road?
- Going slow doesn’t mean you’re behind.
- Taking a detour doesn’t mean you’re going the wrong direction as long as you’re learning something from it.
- Whatever road you’re on, do your best to appreciate the view.
- Watch out for those hairpin turns and, whatever you do, try to dodge the wildlife.
