Native grasses and bison help prove that restoration and productivity can grow side by side
Imagine it’s just past sunrise on a crisp fall morning in Missouri. You’re on your usual commute to work through a rural area when you suddenly see several tall, brown shapes, and instinctively, you slow down. The furry masses lumber leisurely out in front of your car, some giving you a sideways glance, some simply ignoring your presence.
Honking your horn isn’t an option. Instead, you wait patiently, giving the creatures their time and space. Because these aren’t whitetail deer. These are American bison, which can weigh up to 10 times more and have a bad attitude if overly stressed.
This scenario might have been a possibility if Missouri’s modern conservation and stewardship practices had existed 200 years ago. Before European settlement, bison roamed wild in the state, where they voraciously grazed native prairies that covered more than one-third of the land. They were part of a greater American bison herd that may have numbered up to 60 million at one time, but due to habitat loss and overhunting, fewer than 1,000 remained by the late 19th century.
Thanks to the efforts of many conservationists—including President Teddy Roosevelt—the American bison population was brought back from the brink of extinction and now numbers about 400,000. Around 21,000 roam U.S. public lands, such as Prairie State Park in Barton County, Mo., and almost 200,000 live in private herds, like the Nature Conservancy’s Dunn Ranch in Harrison County, Mo.
Private herds also include the nearly 2,000 private ranches and farms in the U.S. that raise bison for meat production. Bison is an increasingly popular protein source, serving as a red meat that’s both low in fat and high in protein, rich in Omega-3 and Omega-6 fatty acids, while also having a satisfying flavor. It fetches a higher price than beef, particularly from health-conscious consumers.
“Bison meat has a nice, sweet flavor,” said Alan Perry, who raises both bison and cattle with his wife, Hannah, and their children, Leah, 10, Ava, 5, and Evrett, 3, near Kirksville, Mo. “I love to crack black pepper on it.”
The Perrys began raising bison soon after buying their farm in 2019. The young couple initially planned to only start a beef cattle herd, but market conditions were unfavorable at the time. And like many other young and first-generation producers, they faced the tough challenge of overcoming agriculture’s high barriers to entry.
“We would pencil out the numbers, and the cash flow just didn’t make sense when we were trying to start a farm from scratch,” Alan recalled.
Alan was raised in Columbia, Mo., not on a farm, but says he learned about agriculture from helping both sets of producer grandparents and his ag teacher at Hickman High School, Chuck Miller. After studying agriculture at the University of Missouri-Columbia, Alan knew he wanted a future as a farmer. If conventional practices wouldn’t help him make that dream come true, Alan and Hannah were willing to think outside the box and consider alternative options, some inspired by Missouri’s ecological past.
“By raising bison and tapping into the niche market, we’re able to increase the value of what we’re doing per acre and make ends meet,” he said.
Bison production also aligned perfectly with the couple’s belief in divinely entrusted stewardship of their land, while responsibly providing sustenance for their community.
In line with this philosophy, the Perrys named their operation “Cheha Ranch.” Pronounced chay-hah, the word means cow or bison hide in the Otoe-Missouria language, native tribes that historically inhabited northern Missouri and relied on bison as a food source.
“We wanted to honor the people who were here before us,” Alan said.
Handling the herd
When the COVID-19 pandemic closed livestock sale barns, the young couple purchased their first five bison heifers and bull calves directly from other producers, who they found through the Missouri Bison Association.
“There are a lot of similarities to raising cattle. There are a lot of differences as well,” Alan said. “We had to learn about them, and they had to learn about us.”
One key difference was infrastructure, including the installation of a strategically placed, two-strand electric fence.
“We’ve set up an electric fence inside our perimeter fencing. We keep the bison in the center of the farm, and then the cattle run the outer perimeter,” Alan said. “This allows us to manage them and make sure that they’re not pushing on any fences or getting out on the road. There was a period when they went through the electric wire. Now that we’re mostly a home-raised herd, they respect it. We have very little trouble.”
Although Alan said he admires the bison’s intelligence, handling them is not the same as handling cattle. Above all, he said, you have to remember that bison are still wild animals with strong survival instincts.
“You can’t force them to go anywhere,” Alan said. “So, you really have to let them make up their own mind. Have patience and take your time when you’re around them.”
Failing to do so may have serious consequences. While bison are similar in weight to beef cattle, they are typically taller at the shoulders, and both bulls and cows have horns.
“They very rarely intentionally want to hurt you,” Alan said. “But they like to play, and they do have horns and big heads, and they can run you over.”
Like other wild ruminants, the bison also have a rut or breeding season when the herd bull becomes highly aggressive. “He will try to kill you if you’re in his way,” Alan said. “You have to make sure you honor them during that time.”
Restoring native pasture
Another difference is the bison’s nutritional needs. Because their digestive system has not been altered by domestication, they digest forage more slowly, enabling them to extract more nutrients from low-protein, poorer-quality forage. In the wild, bison consume a variety of native grasses and forbs, which helps them adapt easily to different ecosystems.
However, while about half of Missouri’s native forages are native warm-season grasses (NWSG), most pastures have been converted to non-native cool-season grasses, typically tall fescue. This means most pastures grow well in the spring and fall but perform poorly during the hot summer months.
In contrast, NWSG thrive and produce higher-quality forage in Missouri’s sweltering summers. In addition, because NWSG are adapted to the state’s environment, they also benefit landowners as an ideal habitat for wildlife, such as bobwhite quail, and resist erosion and drought due to their deep root systems, which reach farther into the soil than those of non-native cool-season grasses.
With encouragement from Alan’s father-in-law, Rockne Corbin—whose interest in conservation and bird habitat introduced him to native warm-season grasses—the Perrys decided to give them a try.
“We seeded some down on the back of the farm,” Alan said. “We figured if it didn’t work, we’d terminate it and try something different.”
It was an experiment that paid off.
“After seeing how productive the warm-season grass was during our cattle rotations and utilizing that forage in the heat of the summer, I’ve become a believer that native grasses have a big place on a cattle farm when used appropriately,” Alan said.
As part of their rotational plan, the Perrys harvest hay from the most productive cool-season pastures in June and then let them rest and grow through the fall, moving livestock to NWSG for the summer. This allows their cool-season grasses to be more productive, resulting in increased tons of forage per acre. Around the middle of October, the Perrys remove both cattle and bison from the NWSG to give the forage time to regrow before winter dormancy.
Such practices offer two main benefits for livestock production, according to MFA Conversation Grazing Specialist Landry Jones. First, research has shown that grazing NWSG increases the animals’ weight gain during the summer, with one study noting that these forages boosted average daily gain in stocker cattle by one pound per day compared to tall fescue. Additionally, native warm-season grasses are free from the endophyte fungus common to tall fescue, which produces toxic ergot alkaloids that raise the animals’ body temperature and exacerbate summer heat stress.
Today, about half of the Perrys’ Kirksville farm has been converted to native warm-season grasses. Their mix—used for both bison and cattle—includes big bluestem, Indiangrass, sideoats grama, switchgrass, and Canadian and Virginia wild rye, with ongoing experiments adding Eastern gamagrass.
“I like to take a kind of shotgun approach when we plant,” Alan explained. “Different parts of your farm will accept various grasses differently, so you can give your best shot at making sure you’ll have grass on the whole area.”
The success with NWSG and seasonal rotational grazing has transformed Alan from a believer to an advocate. He works for the Missouri Forage and Grassland Council as a part-time grassland conservationist, where he assists livestock producers and landowners in incorporating NWSG into their operations and applying for cost-share programs with state and federal agencies.
Promoting the benefits of native grasses is part of the council’s mission, said Jones, who serves as its president. “Our main goal is to bring awareness to producers the importance of proper grassland management,” Jones explained.
Besides additional fencing needed for rotational grazing, he noted other key challenges to implementing native forage.
“Most producers don’t have the ability to set acres aside and let that grass grow for a year,” Jones said. “Another challenge is the mindset, and that it takes a little more management. It’s not necessarily harder; it’s just a little different than fescue management.”
For Jones, who is based in southwest Missouri, native warm-season grasses often produce higher-quality hay in that region because their growth cycle aligns better with seasonal weather patterns.
“While it’s prime time to cut cool-
season grass in the middle of May, spring rains often delay harvest until June or even July, when quality has already declined,” Jones said. “Native warm-season grasses, by contrast, reach their prime in early July.”
Growing a dream
Over the last few years, the Perrys have watched their farming dream continue to grow. Due to current high beef prices, they are now more focused on cattle production but plan to maintain a small bison herd of 15 for the coming winter.
“The bison are more or less a backyard hobby for us, but it’s a productive operation, and we’re able to keep meat in front of the dependable customer base that we have,” Alan said.
From the start, Cheha Ranch has used a USDA-inspected meat processor and is a registered meat vendor with the Missouri Department of Agriculture, which allows them to sell directly from the farm. These days, the Perrys market mostly through local grocery stores and to several restaurants such as J. Huston Tavern in Arrow Rock, Mo. Alan said his goal for the future is to continue building relationships with the ranch’s bison customer base.
Based on the progress they’ve made in recent years, Alan said he feels confident about expanding the cattle operation into a full-time business that can support the family. Still, he acknowledged that, much like restoring native prairie grasses, putting down deep roots takes time.
“I think any young person in farming hopes for that with their operation,” he said. “I believe we’ll get there eventually.”
For more information on Cheha Ranch bison or cattle, contact Alan Perry by phone at 573-881-8089 or email contact@cheharanch.us. For more information on forage management and native warm-season grasses, contact MFA’s Landry Jones at 573-808-7094 or ljones@mfa-inc.com.