JOSEPH – A rancher’s year begins when his pasture is dotted with newborn

calves and lambs wobbling around on their knobby kneed legs, nuzzling

their mothers for warmth and nourishment.

In Wallowa County the signs of new crops of cattle and sheep begin in January and continue well into April – signs that indicate the continuation of a lifestyle enjoyed by Eastern Oregonians for more than 130 years.

Calving in the winter isn’t the easiest way to make a living, especially when the possibility of freezing temperatures and snow well into June make the ranching industry tricky. Ramona and Charlie Phillips both started raising livestock as kids in Northern California in a much more moderate climate, but the Wallowa Valley is where they call home and earn their living.

Charlie and Ramona met at a county fair and have raised animals throughout their entire relationship. Charlie was a student at Fresno State when he and Ramona married. Ramona said they rented a house with pasture and raised cattle to support themselves.

“We raised locker beef to get through college,” she said.

The couple first moved to Wallowa County in 1971 shortly after her parents relocated from Davis. After five years the Phillipses returned to California to help with Charlie’s parents’ ranch in Dixon where they raised cattle, sheep, vegetables and had orchards. From there they managed ranches in Nevada and California near Reno before returning to Wallowa County in 1988 to work for the Mt. Joseph Cattle Co.

The Phillipses bought grazing land when they came back to Wallowa County and later a home with adjacent acreage on Prairie Creek.

Though Ramona has worked outside the home, she prefers ranch work.

“I’d rather be on the back of a tractor with the mountain view than work inside a store,” she said.

A family business means more than raising livestock and growing hay – there are children and grandchildren to tend to as well. Charlie and Ramona raised four children and each summer they open their doors to the grandchildren for “Camp Runamuck.” The kids get to do whatever they want during their visit, including skipping baths.

The grandchildren not only run amuck, but have a chance to play on a working ranch. Some of them carry on the livestock tradition by showing steers at the San Joaquin County Fair in Stockton – steers that started as Wallowa County calves. Raising stock for 4-H or FFA, Ramona admits, can be emotional for the kids.

“We sing, brush and scratch them and cry over every animal,” she said.

Besides providing calves for the grandchildren to raise, Ramona said she gives away a lamb or two each spring for a 4-Her.

“Fewer people run stock anymore,” she said. “Giving away a lamb is one of my biggest pleasures.”

Until a year ago the Phillipses managed the Carpenter ranch while maintaining their own herd of cattle and flock of sheep. The Carpenter ranch is now for sale, so Charlie and Ramona, for the first time in their 42-year marriage, are only caring for their own animals.

“We renewed our vow of poverty,” Charlie said.

At an age where some couples dream of RVs and homes in Arizona, Charlie and Ramona are focusing on increasing their herd and are keeping more replacement heifer cows each year.

After 42 years of marriage and business, Ramona says “We’re still working on it. When I’m sure it’ll work out I think I’ll get a tattoo that says, ‘Charlie Forever’.”

It’s impolite to ask a rancher how many cows he owns; it’s like asking someone how much money they make. In response to this question Charlie said, “We have enough cows to eat the grass. Do you want to know how much grass we have? Enough for the cows to eat.”

The Phillipses run cattle on their own private land and lease adjacent private pasture in the Upper Wallowa Valley. Now that they are strictly in business for themselves, Ramona is saying goodbye to her sheep this year. Down to 15 ewes from 150, she admits it has been a hard choice.

“I spent the better part of a day crying over the loss of my ewes,” she said.

Ramona started raising sheep when her kids started 4-H.

“At first I didn’t know anything,” she said. “But by the time my neighbor, Mike Coppin, bought some bucks from me he said, ‘You really do it.'”

Deciding to give up sheep was strictly a business decision. Lambs require more care than calves, Ramona said.

“Lambs are more fragile than calves and more prone to hypothermia,” she said. “Sheep’ll keep you humble.”

Both the sheep and cows have barns near their calving pasture so if any of the newborns need extra care they can be put in a “hot box” – a small pen with a heat lamp. Sometimes, lambs and calves need to be bottle fed and sometimes “grafted” – introduced to a cow or sheep as an adopted mother.

The Phillipses’ ewes start lambing in January and the cows calve by early March, creating a four-month block of long days with little sleep. Ramona said they get short breaks from the rigors of the business in the late spring and early winter.

Despite the grueling hours ranching demands, the Phillipses have shared the work load so that Ramona could do volunteer work in the community. She’s served as a Court Appointed Special Advocate for children and served on the board of Fishtrap. This winter she joined other ranch women to start an educational committee for the Wallowa County Stockgrowers, and just last week Ramona testified in front of the Oregon House of Representatives Agriculture and Natural Resource Committee in Salem.

Ramona credits caring for their autistic son Bart, who passed away in his late 20s, with her heart for advocacy. When she traveled, Charlie took care of the children. Charlie said he can cook, but added, “There’s a certain sameness about the meals.”

Ramona may be the head chef of the household, but said her pies usually are made with store-bought crust. Her mother, Janie Tippett, is famous for her pies, she said, but Ramona sees her role on the ranch as different than her mother’s generation.

This weekend the Phillipses will host students from Sunnyside Elementary in Portland as part of the 4-H urban-rural exchange program. Last year the Phillipses hosted three girls.

“They bottle fed calves, strawed the chicken coop and sheep barn, tagged calves’ ears and we taught them how to rope,” Ramona said. “The girls picked up on everything.”

After four decades of marriage and business, she said she and Charlie are cross-trained to share the division of labor. Ramona said both partners have to be able to do it all.

“Charlie changed diapers and I’ve fixed fence,” she said.

Early on Charlie and Ramona decided that Charlie would manage the cattle and Ramona would oversee the sheep. Despite disagreements on processes at times, they have been faithful to this arrangement. Ramona said one winter she and Charlie were short on sleep and good humor. They were working sheep and he disagreed with something she wanted to do.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Charlie said about Ramona’s process. Ramona said they followed her method and “when it was over he admitted that the process wasn’t stupid. My friends who ranch with their husbands all love this story.”

On a snowy March morning the sky’s ceiling nearly touched the ground as Ramona drove an early ’70s pickup truck and Charlie pitched hay from the back. The pickup is strictly a ranch truck with a duct-taped windshield and a funky four-wheel drive shifter.

“It’ll be perfect for our 16-year-old grandson when he comes to visit this summer,” Ramona said.