Growing Modern

In America’s heartland, agriculture is a legacy and a blessing that can’t be ignored. With some of the richest soil in the world, Iowans are inspired by the beauty and tranquility of surrounding farmland. But a reputation for agriculture can be a stigma, too, as the nation sometimes sees stereotypical hicks where none are there.

New technology allows farmers to work more land and get two or three times more out of it than a generation ago. According to the Food and Agricultural Policy Research Institute, U.S. farmers earned a record $98 billion last year, with prices driven up by ethanol and demand in China.
Our alumni, too, refute the stereotype. Working across the country in many agricultural fields, they are directly and indirectly feeding the world.

Young and In Love with Cattle

A week after the wedding, most young couples are on their honeymoon in a tropical paradise. But a week after his marriage to Lori Risser Pitz ’05, Kevin ’06 brought home five baby Holstein calves. Nearly six years later, they have more than 400 steers and 30 black angus beef cattle.

The Pitzes own 210 acres in New Vienna, Iowa—land that has been in the family for 155 years. Although they grow corn and alfalfa hay, the bulk of their work is custom-raising Holstein heifer calves for a nearby dairy. With help from Kevin’s dad, they raise each of the 165 calves in its own individual hut.

The Pitzes wake up at 5:30 a.m. each day to begin bottlefeeding the calves. Water, feed and bedding—as well as feed for the larger livestock—take until lunchtime. In the afternoon, they focus on smaller tasks like hauling manure and doing fieldwork. Then it’s back to bottle-feeding. By 5:30, 12 hours after they’ve begun, they’re ready to begin a second set of chores.
“Some days it’s 18-20 hours, and some days it’s raining or snowing and you’re still out there doing it,” says Kevin. “You don’t get sick days or vacation days.”

But farming is not all manual labor. They attend meetings on improving calf-feeding and research new methods on the Internet. And Kevin, who majored in economics, still gets out his old textbooks. “Even though I didn’t major in agriculture or go to one of those big universities, I still use what I learned from Central,” he says.

Kevin and Lori, with daughter Miya, love working for themselves.

Unfortunately, Kevin and Lori are a rare breed—young farmers. They don’t know anyone else their age who farms or raises cattle. Lori thinks this trend is due to the money farming requires—both land and insurance are extremely expensive. “When you sign up, you’re in debt a million dollars right away,” adds Kevin. “We’re still making payments; we’re not really making money.”

Still, Kevin and Lori love their life on the farm. They both enjoy being outdoors and living in the country. Kevin, who grew up in a rural area, never got used to the lights of Pella. And the couple’s two-year-old daughter Miya is a delight, helping feed the calves and greeting them through the fence with a bright “Hi!”

As much as they’ve already expanded, the couple has even bigger dreams. They are renting more ground and plan to put in manure pits and another cattle shed. To make money, every year they have to grow. “I always wanted to marry a rich farmer,” says Lori with a laugh. “I got my farmer, but I’m still working on the rich part.”

Cool-Season Science

Bill Wintermantel ’88 stumbled into his career because of a failed project in college. Between his junior and senior years, he did an independent study with Pioneer Hi-Bred in Johnston, working on disease resistance in sunflowers. But the disease didn’t develop the way it was expected to. “I basically had to figure out what I could make of this project,” he recalls.

Salvaging the project sparked his interest in plant pathology, or the study of viruses. He went on to earn a Ph.D. in the field at the University of Missouri-Columbia. Then he landed a postdoctoral fellowship at Cornell University in New York. In 1998, he started with the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA), and he’s been there ever since.

Wintermantel runs a virology research lab for the USDA’s Agricultural Research Service in California’s Salinas Valley, which is a center for cool-season vegetables like celery and lettuce. He also works with crops from outside the area, particularly sugar beets, tomatoes and melons. Because his lab and greenhouse receive funding not only from the USDA but also vegetable and sugar beet groups, Wintermantel makes sure his work directly benefits growers.
With microbiology, he and his team develop virus-management tools to increase productivity for growers. One area he studies is the insects that transmit viruses to plants, just as mosquitos transmit malaria to humans.

Wintermantel tackles any virus that rears its head in the area. A few years ago, the Cucurbit yellow stunting disorder virus (“Virologists come up with really stupid names,” Wintermantel says with a laugh) hit 100 percent of the melon crop in the Imperial Valley. It’s been a problem in the fall ever since, because the whitefly population transmitting the virus explodes each summer. His lab identified common plants that host the virus and is working with the industry to reduce them, as well as the pesky whiteflies.

Like many fields, plant pathology has benefitted from the universal growth spurt in technology. Many of the microbiology tools he uses now were decades away when Wintermantel was a boy growing up in rural Iowa. But his passion for plant “medicine” can be traced back to his affection for the farmers that were his neighbors and friends. He explains, “I get a lot of satisfaction out of the fact that what I do provides a direct benefit to people doing that sort of work.”

Fresh from the Ground

Julie Wilkening Wilber ’92 never wanted to be a farmer. But now, when she’s not working as an enrolled agent during tax season, she stands on the tractor to weigh it down during planting, checks the melons for ripeness and sneaks bites of sweet corn during harvest.

“I enjoy being outside in the fresh air, being close to nature and seeing all the things that most people don’t pay attention to—the clouds, the bugs, the birds feeding their babies, frogs jumping between plants, deer tracks, fox holes,” she says.

Julie and her husband Scott run Wilber’s Northside Market in Boone, Iowa, and grow peppers, tomatoes, squash and a host of other fruits and vegetables. Last year, their harvest included 3,000 pumpkins, 2,000 watermelons and several acres of sweet corn.

The business began part time in 2002, when the farmer working an acreage they owned let them sell his pumpkins. Scott had always flirted with the idea of farming, but he didn’t know it was possible without inheriting family land. The pumpkin sale went so well they decided to grow their own the next year. Since then, they have bought 15 acres and rent five more. They sell their produce to Hy-Vee in Boone and Perry and at the Boone Farmer’s Market. Recently, the Wilbers began selling vegetables to Iowa State University.

“Most people are amazed it tastes so good,” says Julie. “If they are used to buying produce at the grocery store that has been shipped from far away, they are amazed at the difference when you eat it fresh out of the ground.”

The Wilber’s market is part of a growing trend in consumer culture to buy fresh and local. The Wilbers limit their use of pesticides and herbicides. And they are constantly looking for better ways to care for the environment and grow safe and healthy food, since it’s eaten by their family and neighbors.

Julie's father Larry Wilkening helps transplant bell paper plants.

Julie says eating local is good for the economy because the money stays in the community. And since produce loses nutrients over time, freshness matters too. “I know we live in a global world, but I really think communities need to focus on providing for their own needs and not relying so much on imports,” she says.

Their operation is no longer a small one, and the Wilbers are considering expanding. But transportation of fresh produce to more distant markets is a problem. Either way, they’ll continue growing food for their community and for their two kids, who help on the farm.

“They are our future,” she says. “They will be feeding us when we are old, and I want them to know that food doesn’t come from a factory.”

Where the Bison Roam

Dan De Cook (right) helps his brother Mike on evenings and weekends.

Next year, you may be able to visit the De Cooks’ ranch south of Pella and try a big heaping bowl of bison chili. But right now all you’ll see is a bare landscape dotted with 66 bison.

Dan De Cook ’95 and his brother Mike, with the help of parents Mark ’64 and Kay Kuyper De Cook ’63, run a 1,000-acre organic ranch. Mike, with a degree in range management, works there full time, and Dan helps out evenings and weekends. The brothers have outlined a philosophy for the ranch that includes wildness, ecological profit and nutrient-dense, grass-fed meat.

“I think it’s important to bring back a bit of natural Iowa but do it in working ranch fashion,” says Dan. “It’s great to bring back the prairies, but people need to be able to make a living from it.”

The De Cooks’ model is 1800s Iowa, before most of the wetlands, prairies and savannas disappeared. The ranch began as an organic cattle operation, but they switched to bison because the animals are adaptive to Iowa’s extreme summers and winters. They let the bison roam free without interior fences and manage their movements with patch-burn grazing. The herd is attracted to the new green growth in the spring. “As grazers, we let the bison do the work,” says Dan. “We want to let bison be bison.”

The De Cook herd is a family unit that never strays far from one another.

Once it’s time to sell the bison meat in the fall, the De Cooks will direct market to restaurants and schools in central Iowa, as well as to the general public. Dan says most people who try bison end up preferring it to beef because it’s sweeter and more heart-healthy. “Grass-fed bison is higher in protein than most meat and lower in fat than skinless chicken breast.”

Another aspect of the ranch’s charm is its natural wildness. The brothers use local prairie seed, remove manmade structures and minimize off-farm input. Dan believes they are the first dark-sky ranch in Iowa, meaning no light distracts from the night sky. This spring, they released two trumpeter swans, the largest waterfowl in the world, into the wetlands they restored. “With Iowa being so altered,” says Dan, “it’s exciting to create a place with a feeling of openness.”

Starting next year, the De Cooks hope to offer safari-style ecotours for visitors who want to camp near the bison, not to mention dine on bison chili. But for now, only Dan gets to enjoy the quiet beauty of the ranch on weekends, luxuriating in the naturalness he learned to love back in his Diversity of Life class at Central.

“For me, the ranch is a release,” he says. “It’s a place to get out and enjoy Iowa. I love to bring the binoculars and the fishing pole and just sit and watch the bison.”

 

Read about Dallas Hakeman ’68 of Waukee, who is reaping the benefits of modern technology like GPS, auto-steering and air conditioning in his new combine.


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  • Andy Campbell

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    10:25 am on May 17, 2012

    It is great to see the seamless blend of agriculture, sustainability, and entrepreneurial activities sprouting from Central!

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