This isn't just a business, and it certainly isn't a hobby. It's a legacy. Grandpa Alvin bought what is now main the main farm over 60 years ago. Our roots run deep here.
The Grain Epiphany
We weren't always a grass-fed farm. For decades, we followed the timeline of the industry, feeding grain because that's just "what you did." But even back in the 80s, Axie's parents, Lew and Dana, could sense that something was off. They began dabbling in regenerative methods long before it became a marketing buzzword, driven by a simple intuition that the land shouldn't be exhausted—it should be replenished.
The true turning point, however, came on a quiet day. Axie was standing in the barn, staring at a massive pile of spoiled grain. It was expensive feed, wasted. It was a resource that had to be hauled in, paid for, and managed. And suddenly, the absurdity of it clicked. "The grass is greener in the pasture," she realized. That simple truth changed everything. The grain trucks stopped coming, the gates were opened, and the cattle went back to the pasture for good. Soon after, 5 "free" ewes showed up and we were in the sheep buisiness too!
The farmstead as it stands today.
Cows, Ewes, and People
"We've lambed in the pouring rain, moved cattle in thunderstorms, and warmed freezing lambs with our own body heat."
If you visit, you'll notice the dynamic quickly. Axie has a better way with animals than people—she leaves the talking to Rick. Her language is the tilt of a ewe's head or the shift of the herd. It's a principled grit that defines our entire operation. It is why, when food prices spiked during the pandemic and experts told us to raise ours, we refused. We feed our neighbors, and you don't gouge your neighbors. This year marks the first in many that we had raised prices.
The Next Generation
This life isn't just about producing beef and lamb; it's about raising the next generation. It’s about childhoods spent knee-deep in mud, learning early that breakfast isn't something that comes from a box—it comes from chores. It comes from waking up before the sun and caring for something smaller than yourself.
Our hope isn't measure in quarterly profits, but in the resilience of these two. We hope they will one day take the reins, fully understanding that the land owes them nothing, but they owe the land their respect. We want them to know the weight of a hard day's work and the peace of a job well done.
Until that day comes, we are raising them alongside the herd, teaching them to listen to the seasons and to work deeply, not widely. Because the farm isn't just where we work; it's where we live and who we are.
The future stewards of Barclay Farms.
Farming is a cycle. See where we are in any given season.