Brittany, Fish Department, Albert Summers discussed on 60 Minutes

60 Minutes


Every day for those 5 months, Brittany is out at doll to check on the 600 or so cattle in her care. First thing in the morning. You come out on a rise. And especially in the fall, the Elk are bugling and just talking to each other. Brittany earned her degree in veterinary science in 2019. This is her third summer as a range rider. It's really hard work. What's the attraction? What's the draw? It's something about it speaks to my soul. I really can't describe what, but all winter long. I'm like, oh, a couple months more. A couple months more. And then I'll be up at home. Her home for the summer is a small trailer in an isolated camp off the grid, no running water, no cell service. At the start of this summer, four of the 5 drift range riders were women. You told us that you thought women made the best range riders. Why would that be? Their hard workers. And I can't say that they're, you know, the men aren't good. But the women don't go to town and as much as some of the men kind of have a tendency to visit the tavern? Yeah, they'll go on the other side of the mountain. So what happened to the cowboys? I don't know. Maybe they're just not cut out for it. There's beauty up here. And danger, too. Since listed as endangered species, wolf and grizzly bear populations have exploded in these mountains. Brittany keeps track of the calves they kill. If it was actually killed by a predator, then there will be bruising on the hide on the inside. And it's very obvious. You know, like last year we lost 24 calves. Didn't come home. Now we lose between ten and 15% of our calves. It sounds like a lot. It's a lot. It would break us if it weren't for a compensation program by the Wyoming game and fish department. So you get paid for every animal you lose. We do. Predators aren't the only threat to these ranchers, a growing chorus of critics argue cattle shouldn't graze on public lands at all. Consumption of beef is declining, and so is the number of ranches on the drift. There were more than 20 in the early 1990s, today just 11. The green river drift is so iconic that the cattle drive has earned a spot on the National Register of Historic Places. These remaining ranchers are determined to see that it's not just relegated to history books. So what does it mean to you to be doing what your father and your grandfather did? On the same list. That's my dog. It means a lot. It means a lot. Albert summers has no children, so to preserve this land and its tradition, he set up what's called a conservation easement. Preservationists have paid him to agree that his ranch will never be developed or subdivided, and to allow the public to use the land for recreation. That agreement will also apply to his partner Thai swain as he takes over. And to his son SHAD, when and if he picks up the reins, so with the conservation easement, this land will not change. It will stay the same. It will stay the same. Well, no land stays the same. But this land will not be developed. And I will go to my grave peacefully with that knowledge. But just not tomorrow. Many traditions have left their mark on this land. Native Americans were forced to give way to fur traders, pioneers, and homesteaders. Today, it's the cowboy way of life that is fighting to hold on. Oh yeah. It's tied every year. I mean, we're down to the last dime at the end of the year. It sounds like you're not in it for the money. No, sir. No, we're not. You know, and if somebody says, you know, you're a rich rancher, only rich in the fact that we're get to do what we do and we live where we live. And we get to see the sun come up over those mountains. That's the rich part of this job. It's not the money. We were nearing last call on the grandest of British institutions, the pub. After enduring for hundreds of years as centers for schmoozing and boozing, pubs were going away of morning newspapers, afternoon tea and the whole idea of empire. A range of factors, which we'll get to later, undercut the kind of neighborhood joint where everyone knows your name. Then came COVID, which kept most British pubs close for more than a year. But this past summer, the UK reopened, and not unlike an overserved patron, the pub story started to stagger and lurch in an unexpected direction. And maybe, it's not quite closing time after all. 1200 plus years old. Yes. A man walks into a pub. Of course he does. In this case, it's a very old pub. Ye olde fighting cocks in saint albans outside London. Its landlord or publican is Christo to folly. So your pub is one of dozens in this country that claims to be the oldest ever. Make your case. It turns out there's a bit of a misconceptions which one's the oldest. And what the oldest pup is. So with the oldest pub, the first brick was laid in 7 93 and the oldest inhabited building in Europe. Vikings invaded England in the same year, the first brick was laid in 7 93. I suspect Vikings would like this place. I would love this place. Before we go further, let's define our terms. We're not talking about near bars, or for the love of God, sports bars. These are pubs. Short for public houses. They exist as much for conviviality as for what's on tap. Cold lager, and to the shock of first timers, warm ale. They've been cornerstones of the culture here for centuries. The writer slash comedian Al Murray believes the value proposition goes well beyond beer. It's a community place. It's a communitarian place in a way that's sitting in the front room watching television, just isn't. What is it about this culture that has such appeal to you? To sound sort of idealistic about it. Printers and paupers are equally welcome in here. And given that Britain is such a class or in society, there are very few places where, you know, you stand at the bar and your money is as good as anyone else's. You sound like a pub romantic. I am completely romantic about the idea of pubs. There is something genuinely beautiful about the idea of somewhere where anyone can go at any time and sit in a corner with their own thoughts and a drink and it's a beautiful notion. You don't go to Turner's old star for quiet contemplation. One of the last of the so called boozers in London's east end, it's the heartbeat of the proudly working class community here. Put it in a day of work, you work hard to come in and absolutely. We're called all day, and then you kind of like, it's just like having a mental shower after a hard day's work, just wind down. It's like a real life cheers, I guess, you know? It works on me. I found out I feel family. And family. Paul and Bernie strew have run the old star for 17 years. They met across the street, got engaged here. They live upstairs. The pub is their living room. The regulars, their oldest friends. When you say regular so, these are really great. Oh yeah, that's pretty. Everyone from nought to 19 joys are so good. There's a car of people I suppose, ten, 15 people that come in every day, regardless, winter, summer, whenever. They all come up as a couple of beers. Ever laugh, true to wag as they say. And, you know, it's.

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