Ranching for land and livelihood

Ruby Coulson (she/they)
Hometown: Sequim, Washinton
Major: Earth Systems with a focus on Sustainable Food Agriculture, '27
Internship: Redwing Ranch

Ruby Coulson channels her inner cowgirl during a summer of regenerative ranching at Redwing Ranch in southern Colorado.

This summer, I landed on a ranch in southern Colorado chasing a version of the West I’d carried in my bones for years. I showed up ready to be the most cowgirl version of myself, even if that meant leaning into the myth. But what I found wasn’t a myth at all. It was raw, honest, and way more powerful than anything I’d imagined.

Much like the plains of the West, my first week was trial by fire. I woke up at six and immediately checked the grazing plans with the team. By 7, we knew the heifers had escaped their pasture and were mixed in with the pairs (heifers are cows that are not pregnant or in calving, while pairs are cows that are pregnant or have a calf). By 8 am, we realized we were out of antibiotics for the heifers with pink eye, and the heifers were far more mingled with the pairs than we had expected. At 8:30, I was in the office learning the behind-the-scenes details and being let in on my first project: their second event as an education program was scheduled to take place in four days. The fire was lapping at my feet already.

That weekend, Women in Ranching hosted a Grazing Management Weekend that I had helped develop, with take-home resources, a slide deck, and prepared the facilities for the women to arrive. They encouraged me to attend, but of course, I didn’t have to, since it was my weekend. I decided that I didn’t drive 26 hours across the West just to sit around and twiddle my thumbs; I wanted to learn as much as I could. It was easily the best decision of my summer. I met 16 of the most impressive, hard-working, intelligent, and passionate women, and learned more than just grazing management and how to increase profitability in ranching. I realized that communities are vital to learning, that a true rancher cares more about the land than any urban environmentalist ever could, and that women truly are the future and driving force towards making our food systems more profitable, logical, and sustainable (a word I struggled with the whole summer). It was an emotional, vulnerable, and liberating weekend for every woman involved, which is the work we do in addition to becoming the most intelligent women, making us the best ranchers. The barriers these women overcame as first-generation ranchers were far higher than those faced by their male peers. That weekend cracked something open in me—not just professionally, but personally. It shifted how I saw ranching, community, and my role in shaping the future.

Amid all the physical hustle, I found myself flexing a different kind of muscle. I jumped into designing their education programs—building slide decks, crafting take-home resources, and shaping workshops to create a clear, welcoming, and land-based experience. It was storytelling with purpose, making ranching and Western skills feel approachable and genuine for those just getting started. Turns out, creativity had just as much of a place here as grit—and I was glad to bring both.

I think now, being the most cowgirl means valuing the land and the livestock as life with intrinsic value, and that treating it with the most respect does not mean we both don’t benefit from a relationship. This summer was the first time I saw a heifer put down for her health, but on the same day, I saw a fresh calf launch itself into play with another and enjoy itself with joy. The curtain was pulled back when I found myself searching for ground truth – the West's mythology should not be depicted as white men on horseback. Instead, the West is home to indigenous people, especially women, who travel on foot (and by ATV and horseback), interacting with a diverse and multifaceted land system. It's hard work, but made easier knowing you're serving the land and the animals in the way we evolved to do so.

Livestock management can recreate historical disturbances, such as grazing and fire, that coevolved with the Western landscape — disturbances that colonial humans found inconvenient. It is now our obligation to manage the land in a manner that is as close to the natural landscape as possible, and that means ranching must continue to exist in a holistic and regenerative sense. No more growing lab meat, no more industrialization of human nature, but instead invest in communities and people, who feed the land as much as they do humans. I’m over halfway done, and thinking about leaving here is bittersweet, because the community I’ve made is so impactful that it changed the course of my life. The lessons I’ve learned have made me a stronger person and a more capable future rancher. I’m emboldened to return loudly to Stanford and remind people of the roots of ranching, and that the future is not industrializing our food systems past the point of understanding.