Good neighbors, good fences

Robert Frost wrote that one time he came upon the owner of the land next to his. The man was building a fence in the woods, where there was no actual need for one. When Frost asked him why, the fellow responded simply, "Good fences make good neighbors."

The neighbor had it backwards, I think. By rural Montana custom, it is "Good neighbors make good fences."

Ranches and farms often share miles of fence, along with water, ditches, pasture, creeks, and a myriad of other things. The rule of thumb concerning fences used to be: stand on your property in the middle of the fence line while looking at the neighbor's ground. The fence on the right is yours to maintain. That was enacted into state law just a few years ago, settling a lot of old disputes, I'm sure.

Owning adjacent working properties is an intricate relationship, requiring patience and empathy from both parties. It's much more complicated than merely sharing a line between a couple of city lots.

In non-rural settings, the property line is a symbol of ownership, and if the fence is off a foot or two on either side, it's a big deal. But when hundreds of acres and miles of divisions are involved, a few feet or yards either way aren't worth the expense and effort to change.

I lived in Big Sky for a number of years, where a friend of mine owned a few hundred acres of dryland pasture just outside of Gallatin Gateway. When a fellow moved to Montana and purchased the piece of ground neighboring my friend's, the survey showed that the fence was off the line a foot or two.

Well, that wouldn't do. Even though the total area of the ground on the wrong side of the fence didn't equal a quarter acre, we had to remove over half a mile of old fence, and build a new one precisely on the surveyed line. It cost the fellow a lot of money, but he could rest easy, knowing that things were exactly as he thought they should be.

In traditional ranching country, where the various properties have been in the same families for generations, there are some disagreements that have lasted for years. Those are remembered, but ignored in lieu of peace and cooperation. The ranchers realize that one misunderstanding doesn't make the other party an evil person.

There are certain protocols tacit in agriculture. If asked for help when someone is working cattle, or has a large project at hand, the help is always given – that, and often more than was requested. Often cattlemen put off their own plans to help, and if that is impossible, they send a hired man in their stead.

It's customary to arrive 15 minutes or a half-hour before things are scheduled to start. There's always something that needs done, if not it's pleasant to lean on the back of a pickup and visit with the others until the work is ready to begin.

If a rancher happens to find a few of the neighbor's cows mixed with his, the normal procedure is to put them back where they came from, then look for the hole in the fence or the open gate and repair things. A person doesn't rush home and call the owner to complain, because the next time his or her cows will probably be on the wrong side of things.

If it isn't possible to remove the stray cattle alone, an evening phone call and an offer to help are standard. When someone spots a cow or two out on the road, he or she always calls to let the owner know how many and where they were seen.

Among ranchers, equipment is loaned and borrowed freely. Money rarely changes hands, the normal protocol being is that the borrower receives the piece full of fuel and returns it the same way, being sure that it is well greased and any small problems repaired. Cattlemen follow Thoreau's advice: if you borrow an ax, you always return it sharper than it was when you got it.

Water can be problematic. There's something about irrigating water that arouses the emotions, and open-handed cooperation is more difficult. I think it's a primal need that we carry that causes a lot of hard feelings. I know a number of ranchers who have sold their properties and moved rather than live in a world of tension for years on end.

Many ranches have water rights dating from the late 1860's, but nature has changed so much there are a lot of gray areas in the decrees. Yet, even given the importance and emotional tenor of water, most ranchers do their best to get along, respecting the neighbor's needs and rights. Water is where they draw the line on total empathy and cooperation.

There ain't none.