The Modern Midwest Prairie: How Ranching and Native Grasslands Can Thrive Together in a Changing Climate

Newswise —

It’s August in South Dakota and a weeklong heat wave where temperatures surpassed 100 degrees has just ended. Thankful for a reprieve from the stifling warmth, I head out early on my day off to explore Badlands National Park. I’ve been staying in Fort Pierre, which is situated on the Missouri River, just across from the capital city of Pierre.

The river splits the state in half from east to west, the former being the more wet, humid and lush side of the state, and the latter more arid. These stark differences in climate make for a surprisingly ecologically diverse state, the more unique features being the Badlands and Black Hills of southwest South Dakota. Full of colorful and dramatic outcroppings, this landscape contains stunning features to ponder the geology, evidence of how the continent has transformed over millions of years. One thing that consistently unites South Dakotans more than anything, however, is agriculture.

Journey through the grasslands

The journey from Fort Pierre to the Park begins by passing through the 116,000-acre Fort Pierre National Grassland, which hosts many eastern and western species of birds since the grassland is on the boundary of both range limits. The drive is undulating, climbing and descending rolling hills of crops like sorghum, wheat, and corn. Fenced grasslands that appear empty at times are home to thousands of cattle that roam for miles within the confines of massive ranches. A few settlements that declare populations in the single digits, grain silos, and lone churches are beheld on the two-hour drive to the west. Oh, and lots of billboards.

An obligatory stop along I-90 if you’ve never been before, which I hadn’t, is Wall Drug. Located in Wall, South Dakota, this “drug store” is advertised for hundreds of miles along highways throughout the state. The main street of the town is an attraction unto itself. Old western style facades of stores, lined with wooden boardwalks beckon to tourists to buy souvenirs and look inside the famous Wall Drug. This establishment spans an entire block and consists of not only a small namesake shop where you can buy travel sized shampoo and Tylenol, but also a miniature chapel, signing animatronic cowboys, art and jewelry stores, and of course fudge.

Before you arrive in the bustling downtown, however, a less boastful US Forest Service building quietly welcomes travelers to the National Grassland Visitor Center. Inside, banners representing all of America’s 20 National Grasslands adorn the walls, each depicting something unique to the area. The talisman of the Buffalo Gap National Grassland which surrounds the Badlands National Park, is the black-footed ferret. Together, these grasslands make up an area smaller than New Jersey, around 3.8 million acres.

“To love and appreciate the mountains, you only open your eyes, but to love and appreciate the prairie, you must open your soul.” (Louis Toothman, 1961).

I didn’t come across this quote until I stopped at the National Grassland Visitor’s Center, but it perfectly encapsulates exactly how I’ve felt since I started studying grasslands in 2016 for my Master’s. The first time I stepped foot in a prairie, my heart and soul were forever changed. Eight years later, I would find that same feeling again when I returned to grassland research through BRI in collaboration with South Dakota State University and the United States Department of Agriculture.

In the mountains, your visual senses are finely tuned to the grandeur of the peaks towering above. In a prairie, it’s a full body sensory experience. A gentle, enduring breeze, the songs of birds and insects, the rustling of grasses, and the vast expanse of hundreds of acres before you, meeting the horizon miles away. Enormous puffy clouds transform into shades of blues, pinks, and yellows—the sky becoming a watercolor work of art in the setting sun.

The role of grasslands in climate change

Beyond its beauty and serenity, grasslands are important for maintaining a stable climate. Native grasses and forbs reduce the effect of climate change by removing carbon dioxide from the air and storing it in the soil, a process called soil carbon sequestration. Trees do the same thing, but in the plains, there is not enough rain to sustain dense forests.

Grassland plants are resistant to drought, providing refuge and food for birds, jackrabbits, bobcat, coyote, elk, and pronghorn antelope year round. The most iconic feature of this ecosystem however, the bison, which used to roam in the millions across North America, is now replaced primarily by cattle. Over the last two centuries, prairies in the Midwest were converted into impervious surfaces due to urban sprawl and farm fields for crops and livestock grazing. This massive conversion resulted in the loss of over 140 million acres of prairies. Less than 5% of the original area remains.

Cattle and bison ranchers today are known as excellent stewards of the land, soil, water, and livestock under their care, but there is no doubt that the alteration of this vast ecosystem for the past 200 years has consequences. Rather than working against nature, scientists at the United States Department of Agriculture and South Dakota State University partnered with ranchers across South Dakota and one ranch in Wyoming to implement climate-smart ranching practices.

BRI’s contribution to the grassland research

BRI was asked to conduct baseline biodiversity surveys to document the conditions of the ranches during the first year that climate-smart land management practices were implemented. Such practices include: prescribed grazing and burning; forage and range planting; wildlife habitat management; and promoting riparian herbaceous cover.

The anticipated outcome is that these practices will increase soil carbon storage, reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and increase biodiversity. All of which improves the quality of the rancher’s product (the beef and bison sold at market) and the sustainability of their practices to ensure their businesses will be passed on to the next generation in outstanding condition.

In three years, BRI will return to see what has changed. We will compare the data collected this past summer with the future data and decide if the climate-smart practices have any effect on the overall biodiversity of the ranchlands. From documenting the smallest insects, to the fiercest predators and the habitats they dwell in, our first-year assessment is a “before” snapshot of the entire grassland ecosystem. Only time will tell if our efforts pay off. It takes cooperation and trust for a partnership like this to be successful, and we are so honored to be part of this journey. A little piece of BRI’s heart, along with mine, now belongs on the prairie, too.