TSCN#95: Harvest of Deception
The Roots of a Lost Civilization
Howdy folks,
It's Texas Slim here. This week I want to introduce you to a remarkable journey that's as much about the past as it is about the present. Our "Harvest of Deception" series, penned by myself and the talented Giulia, promises to take you on a ride through the modern American cattle industry. Inspired by my original essay written while on harvest with a multinational grain company, we’re expanding on my original vision to bring you the gritty details of my experiences on the ground.
Into the Bunkhouse: A Real-Life Chronicle
Today, I'm introducing you to the first part of our series, "Into the Bunkhouse." This story unfolds in the summer of 2021, in a remote corner of North Dakota. I found myself in a 42-foot trailer, nicknamed the bunkhouse, cramped and shifting with every movement. This was our base for the harvest season, a home for eight of us — a place that echoed with stories, struggles, and the raw reality of the agricultural world.
From Kansas to North Dakota: A Season of Harvest
Our journey took us from Kansas to North Dakota, with a convoy equipped for the vast task at hand. Seven combines, John Deere tractors, fuel trucks, semis — this was more than a convoy; it was a moving testament to the scale of modern agriculture. The operation, though impressive, was a glimpse into the changing face of farming — a far cry from the community-driven harvests of yesteryears.
A Moment of Reflection: The Crossroads of Life and Food
In the downtime, as the rain drizzled and delayed our start, I found myself in deep contemplation. There, in the heart of nowhere, surrounded by silence and vast expanses of land, I pondered the displacement of collective rituals and our relationship with food. This wasn't just my journey; it mirrored a broader narrative playing out across our nation's farmlands.
A New Generation: Change in the Air
The young men I shared the bunkhouse with were a far cry from the farm-tough cornfed boys of old. Poverty, small-town backgrounds, and varied life experiences brought them to this point. The harvest crews had evolved, reflecting a larger shift in agriculture — from a community ritual to a more industrialized, corporate-driven model.
The Walmart Effect: A Glimpse into Rural America's Food Choices
My visit to a Walmart in Bismarck, North Dakota, was an eye-opener. Eighty miles was the closest source of food, a stark revelation of the disconnect between our food production and consumption. The shelves were stocked with processed, sugar-laden products — a contrast to the wheat fields we were harvesting.
A Revelation: The Need for Change
Observing the young men's nutritional choices and their detachment from the source of their food, I realized the urgency for change. I envisioned a world where everyone could easily connect with local farmers, buy fresh, regenerative beef, and break free from the programmed path of convenience and processed foods.
The Birth of the Beef Initiative: Writing The Harvest of Deception
In those moments of isolation and clarity, the foundation of the Beef Initiative was laid. As I tapped away on my phone, connecting my thoughts with the world outside, "The Harvest of Deception" (my first essay penned on harvest) took shape. It was more than philosophical speculation; it was a mission to bring light to the hidden truths of our food industry.
So without further ado, I proudly present to you our flagship literary product. A new set of writings, our series "Harvest of Deception" is a story that transcends the bunkhouse in North Dakota, touching on the very essence of our relationship with food, agriculture, and community. This is part one of our journey, aptly titled “Into the Bunkhouse”.
Harvest of Deception Pt. 1: Into the Bunkhouse
by Texas Slim and Giulia (Executive Editor, Ruffshot June)
July 2021, North Dakota, middle of nowhere. I was living in a 42-foot bumper pull trailer we called our bunkhouse. It was long and too narrow. Just enough space for a tiny bed, in which it was hard to sleep anyway because every time somebody went to the bathroom, that bunkhouse, well, it shifted. Eight of us squeezed in there. That was our base for three months during the harvest season.
We drove with the convoy——flatbed trailers for seven combines, a couple John Deere tractors, two fuel trucks, eight semis——all the way up from Kansas to North Dakota. It was a family-owned harvesting company with home base in Kansas. We had our staging area in a small town next to the grain elevator. At the camp we were completely isolated: no reception, no internet, no means of transportation available to us except a fuel truck.
There I was: I cut off access to most of my life that I’d known. I just recovered from being sick. Doctors told me I was going south very fast, that I didn’t have much time left. I had come back from a death sentence of six weeks to live. I pretty much burned all the boats. I set out on a quest to leverage myself deeper into the food industry that I was already researching. I embarked on the harvest journey, searching for something I couldn’t quite put my finger on yet. But my instincts were still intact and, as I know now, they were already leaning into something.
We had downtime at the camp, a drizzling rain didn’t even allow us to pull the trigger to start the harvest for a week. The key to my truck was back in Kansas. That whole situation, it forced me to meditate. The vast expanse of silent flatland out there seemed to be mirroring the direction my life had taken. But I realized that desolate space wasn’t only speaking about me. That nowhere land was the very place where a certain collective ritual I knew, and a certain relationship with our food I’d grown accustomed to, were being displaced. And it was all playing out right there, on the soil that used to be the origin of our sustenance and the keeper of our stories.
My eight young roommates in the bunkhouse, well, they were nothing like I grew up with. They had their stories for sure. Small-town America, poverty. One of them grew up in the reservations of Oklahoma, another on the bad side of the streets of Kansas City. Some of the boys were farm kids that needed to make extra money in the camp. Truth is, for the companies it has become so hard to get the right guys on harvest in a year that anyone with basically no experience whatsoever could make a call right now and be on harvest within a week. The big harvest companies are now importing South Africans into the harvest season. Those companies have their means, yes, and in the end you do have a crew that is led by true agro-intelligence. But this is the agro-intelligence of the monocrop system. And where you used to have a bunch of farm-tough cornfed boys, now you have a bunch of wannabes.
It’s an impressive orchestration, however, the one that is organized around the monocropping. But there has always been something epic to the harvest, even more so in the old days, before this centralization of means. I met people out there who have a deep passion for their job that goes back centuries and decades, when the harvest used to be a community ritual. Everybody helped each other, like in a barn raising. We had a harvest mom or the harvest crew that fed us. They would cook and bring everybody hamburgers, shepherd’s pies, casseroles, these types of comfort food that keep you going. When you have got to get ten thousand acres up into the grain bins you cannot stop to prepare you own meal. You didn’t have the time back then, you don’t have the time now. And that still happens, you still have the harvest meal brought to you maybe every other day but, on a daily basis, instead of sandwiches that used to be edible and somewhat okay for you, now it’s cold pizza pockets.
Part of your salary, when you are hired for the harvest, is having access to unlimited food. The boys think “hell yeah, I’m going on harvest, I’ll get to eat all I want.” And they do. You can eat anything you want 24/7. The owner of my harvest company was a good man, he wanted to make sure everybody ate enough and had plenty of energy. We had to make our own food though: wake up at 4:00, make a breakfast, pack a lunch. Those pizza pockets the boys were eating for lunch in the fields were in the wish list they sent to the grocery store. Everybody makes a list and gives it to a foreman who then takes other four guys with him and drives to the store.
I went along on a trip to the grocery store once. It was the Walmart in Bismarck North Dakota, 80 miles from our base. That was the closest source of food for us. In small-town America, the trip to Walmart is basically the only option you have. We were harvesting wheat, and yet food was so out of reach for us.
When we came back we filled the two full freezers in our bunkhouses with Tyson chicken nuggets and Hot Pockets, stacked our shelves with “healthy” granola bars, Cheerios and frosted flakes. $3,000 worth of unlimited sugar and high fructose. None of the boys requested bacon or eggs, none of them wanted to eat any type of red meat. They didn’t even know how to cook chicken, if not in the form of the Tyson nuggets their mommas had fed them as little boys. They didn’t know any better or any different, and neither did the people who paid for the food. They were tough boys, but they were pretty much nutritionally starving. They accumulated skinny fat on top of their good genes. Some of them, I don’t think they ever were in touch with the source of the seed where I come from. The farm boy had changed.
Having unlimited access to food is a great part of being on harvest for the boys. But it is also a trap, because in your unlimited choices you have no choice. In rural America, it is easier to drive 80 miles to get that fake food than to benefit from the resources that are being produced one mile away from you. You have to really go out, like I did after what I saw on my trip to Walmart, and find someone that does regenerative raised beef in the surrounding region. But if you have been programmed not to question the path to the source of your food, you will struggle to break the mold.
Something must be done, I thought. I was observing the downward spiral these young men’s lives were headed. I had returned my health, but everybody else needed to do that as well. I wanted everyone to be able to go out and find that farmer and buy the food they wanted from that farmer. During our downtimes, while the boys played video games on the bunkhouse TV, my thumbs began to type on my cell phone, the only contact I had to bridge the past with the present and the deceptive future. I began to write what I would later coin The Harvest of Deception, and for the first time I put the phrase food intelligence together with the hash tag #FoodIntelligence. On a stranded land in North Dakota, with no access to communication, no market access to food, laying in my bunk, I realized I was exactly where I was supposed to be. In that moment of clarity, I laid the seeds of The Beef Initiative.
End of part one.
Our Shared Global Narrative
As I journey through Thailand, I'm constantly reminded of the universal connection we humans have with the earth. It's a reminder that, regardless of where we are in the world, our ties to the land and our drive to build and sustain life are deeply rooted within us.
Stay tuned for more of the "Harvest of Deception," a series that promises to be more than just an exploration of the cattle industry. It's a journey through time, culture, and the enduring spirit of the Universal Cattleman.
Till next time, keep those boots dusty and your spirits high.
Yours in the journey,
Texas Slim
Calls-To-Action
1. Support Our Cause
Rally Behind The Beef Initiative
You have the power to make a difference. Here’s how you can support our mission.
Upgrade Your Dinner: Get a Beef Box
Invest in the Cause: Make a Donation
Stay Informed: Subscribe for Updates
2. Affiliate Links
Claire & Fritz Tallow Shop
Clara and Fritz invite you to be part of a generational movement. Let's regenerate - our skin, our relationships, our collaborations. Dive into the world of skincare with products crafted from beef tallow. It's time to understand regenerative collaboration. Begin your journey with Clara and Fritz. Let's regenerate together. Our newsletter subscribers get 10% off!
3. Become an Affiliate
Unlock Earnings with Our Affiliate Program
Become part of our movement and earn commissions on the sales you refer. Click below for details.
Learn & Earn: Affiliate Program Information
4. The Beef Initiative Association Council
Join the Beef Initiative Association Council
Our Commitment
At TBIAC, our mission is to deliver unparalleled data-driven insights to micro-processing facilities, both in Texas and nationwide. Guided by unwavering integrity, we rely on verifiable results as we collaborate to nourish local communities sustainably. Your partnership is our strength—let's build a better future from the inside out
5. Get Involved
Play Your Part—Volunteer Today!
Time and expertise are gifts. Offer yours to a cause that matters.
Open Position: Experienced in graphic design or storytelling? We'd love to hear from you.
Connect: Reach out to us at info@beefinitiative.com to get started.