Life on the Grigg family homestead in Hesperus is good – at least for the turkeys.
A flock of 58 birds roam freely, graze for bugs and plants, and roost in a warm shed, protected from wild animals by livestock guardian dogs.
In early November, the birds meet their final day – though they don’t know it. They are slaughtered humanely, processed and sold at the Bayfield Holiday Farmers Market, and eventually become the centerpiece of Thanksgiving dinners across La Plata County, said Samantha Grigg.
“They’re amazing,” she said while admiring the turkeys on Nov. 7, a day before they were to be slaughtered. “There’s really no bad days, except for that one windstorm. They’re not stressed when we butcher them.”
Southwest Colorado isn’t known for turkey farming, Grigg said. Her farm is just one of a few in La Plata County raising turkeys for local farmers markets.
Grigg and her husband, Hudson, began raising turkeys, chickens and sheep after moving to their remote Hesperus home with soaring views of the La Plata and San Juan mountains four years ago.
Their goal, she said, is to raise their flock as humanely as possible – feeding them quality food, caring for their health and allowing them to roam as turkeys naturally would. The Griggs also practice rotational grazing techniques, moving sheep, chickens and turkeys across their land to avoid overgrazing native foliage.
Grigg said a staff member from U.S. Rep. Jeff Hurd’s office and Rachel Landis, executive director of the Good Food Collective, toured the farm to learn how Hurd’s bipartisan “Local Farmers Feeding Our Communities Act” could support small-scale producers.
“What it has meant is our regional food system as a whole gets strengthened,” Landis said. “I think right now in our country and locally we’re seeing what happens when you don’t have a strong regional food system or ... that is not only about moving food around. This bill is about supporting jobs, it’s about supporting your economy, it’s about supporting your health.”
The legislation could help small producers get more local food into the community, Landis said.
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Grigg said factory-farmed turkeys have no room to move and are fed low-quality feed to fatten them up for mass slaughter. In contrast, her turkeys roam freely and eat high-quality food.
Breanna Johnson, who runs Regulator Ranch – a direct-to-consumer poultry, eggs and goat farm in southern La Plata County – also raises turkeys with an eye toward humane practices. She was inspired after watching “Super Size Me 2,” a documentary that explores the dark side of industrial farming.
“When we think about those major poultry farms, those turkeys and chickens are not living – they’re just existing until they can be processed,” she said. “I don’t think they have any joy in their day or their life, and they live in pretty terrible conditions.”
As of early November, Johnson had 200 chickens and turkeys. Originally from northeast Ohio, she and her husband, Jeremiah, had little farming experience. She always wanted to farm, though, and had to learn about raising turkeys quickly. After losing birds to dogs and wildlife, the couple began breeding livestock guardian dogs.
Ironically, turkeys often pose the greatest risk to themselves. Johnson said one impaled itself on a horse trailer handle after jumping off a barn rafter; another broke its leg after becoming stuck in a fence.
“Raising turkeys is actually a lot harder than chickens,” she said. “Most things that are alive have this great desire to stay alive and they will work really hard to remain living. But turkeys do not follow that general guideline in life. They’re really good at finding ways to get hurt and die. So that’s been an interesting learning curve.”
Such is the life of a turkey farmer. Johnson said she stitched the impaled turkey back together with purple thread.
“It survived and grew to be like 50 pounds,” she said. “When we processed it, it still had the purple thread in it.”
She found the turkey with the broken leg one morning before heading to her teaching job. She called her boss to say she would be late – she was splinting a bird’s leg. It healed and the turkey grew to be 50 pounds.
“If you can intervene in those times when they feel they don’t need to survive, then you can help them survive,” Johnson said. “If you leave them to their own devices, they will probably not survive on their own.”
It is that level of care, she said, that makes raising and butchering the turkeys worth it. Knowing she gave them a good life helps ease the hardest part of killing them.
For Grigg, the level of care shows in the quality of meat.
“You can definitely taste the difference,” she said. “It has a more complex flavor, because they’re out here and they’re eating seeds and bugs and different grasses. When they’re all out in pasture, they’re building this beautiful, complex muscle with all their different omega levels.”
The birds are fed non-GMO feed and a special soy that produces less methane, which Grigg said boosts their overall health and well-being. Then, a few weeks before slaughter, they’re given extra wheat and goat milk-soaked feed to improve tenderness.
Both Grigg and Johnson acknowledged that taking a life is never easy. But in contrast to factory farming, they believe raising birds on pasture with good food is a more ethical alternative.
“You are what you eat,” Grigg said. “Whether you believe in eating meat or not, this is as good as it gets for these turkeys. There’s nothing that’s better than the way that they’re raised and the way that they’re harvested.”
Johnson tries to use every part of the turkey. She makes broth from their carcasses and feeds their organs to her livestock guardian dogs.
“Every part of the animal is used – outside of the feathers, but those just kind of float away and become some other bird’s nest, probably,” she said.
As Thanksgiving nears – when many of the birds will be on dinner tables throughout La Plata County – both women said gratitude is front of mind. Whether for their customers, fellow farmers or the birds themselves, gratitude is woven into everything they do.
Even when it comes time to kill the turkeys, Johnson said.
“We try to give them their best life,” she said. “We thank them before killing them. We’re not religious or anything, but I always thank the animal by saying, ‘Hey, thanks for your sacrifice and all the food on the table.’”
sedmondson@durangoherald.com
