Creeping across the pasture land. Got dirt on
the boots and a working hand. From the milk house
home to the auction call. These are the folks
standing strong and tall. Yeah, this is... You
know what pisses me off? While most 28 -year
-olds are scrolling through TikTok at breakfast,
there's a guy in Massachusetts who's already
been up for three hours managing 400 cows across
two farms. And that right there, that's exactly
what's wrong with our entire succession crisis.
Welcome to the bullvine. I'm going to tell you
a story that'll either inspire the hell out of
you or make you realize your farm's already dead.
You just don't know it yet. Picture this. It's
somewhere around 5 .30 in the morning, October.
The Connecticut River Valley is covered in fog,
and the sweet, sour smell of fermented corn is
mixing with the morning air. Tyler Woodman, 28
years old, he's knee -deep in feeding time at
Maple Line Farm. The feed mixer's doing its mechanical
rhythm thing, and his phone starts ringing. Jim
Strout's name pops up. Now, Tyler wedges the
phone against his shoulder, because who stops
feeding when you've got 400 head waiting? And
Strout asks him, Tyler, you sitting down? Ah,
sitting down. At 5 .30 in the morning, while
feeding two farms worth of cattle. Tyler had
no idea what was coming. This guy had already
been up since 4 .30. He'd checked his Alta Need
App Now app, that's N -E -D -A -P for those taking
notes, reviewed alerts for both Maple Line's
jerseys, and the neighboring Divine Farms Holsteins,
moved fresh cows and was halfway through morning
feed. And Jim Strout's about to tell him he's
won the 2025 Richard Caverly Memorial Dairy Award.
Now before you think this is just another feel
-good farm story, let me hit you with some numbers
that should scare the crap out of you. According
to the latest census data, and folks this is
real, we lost 39 % of dairy farms between 2017,
and 2022. We went from 40 ,336 operations to
just 24 ,470. But here's the kicker. 83 .5 %
of family farms won't make it to the third generation.
83 .5%. Tyler Woodman represents exactly what
we're losing. And if that doesn't terrify you,
you're not paying attention. Let me tell you
about breeding excellence. Real breeding excellence.
Not the BS you hear at the coffee shop. Tyler's
Foundation? It traces back to a cow most of you
would have shipped to the sale barn years ago.
Woodman Farm, Mad Max Sandy. She's turning 13
this December, still scoring EX 94 .5E, and still
throwing daughters that'll make you stop mid
-stride in the barn. Sandy came from River Valley
Tri -P Secret. That was Tyler's first 4 -H project
when he was just a kid in New Hampshire, trying
to figure out why some cows just looked right.
Tyler says, and you can hear it in his voice,
Sandy has always been special. Seven daughters
on the ground, three milking daughters, all scored
excellent. Granddaughters selling from Vermont
to Wisconsin. This is what happens when you actually
understand cow families instead of just chasing
whatever bull the genetics rep is pushing this
month. But wait, it gets better. Victoria Secret,
one of Sandy's daughters from a burdette by Mad
Max Cross that Tyler made when he was barely
old enough to understand progeny proofs, she
was a two -time All -American nominee, most recently
scored EX94 -3E. Let that sink in, folks. A mating
made by a teenager is now producing cows that
stop traffic at World Dairy Expo. All right,
let's talk genomics. And I'm going to piss some
of you off here. The dairy industry has generated
$4 .28 billion, that's billion with a B, in cumulative
economic impact from genomic testing since 2010.
Annual genetic gains jumped from $37 to $85 per
cow. That's 129 % acceleration. And yet, walk
into any sale barn from Massachusetts to California,
and half the guys there still think genomics
is some fancy nonsense for the mega -dairies.
Tyler Woodman doesn't buy into that old -school
crap. He says, and I quote, I have always been
known to use milk bowls on my type cows and type
bowls on milk cows. Sounds backwards, right?
Until you see the results walking around his
barn. Now, Richard Caverly, rest his soul, he
understood genomics before most of us could even
spell the word. He was pushing Ayrshire breeders
to embrace testing when everyone else was clutching
their paper pedigrees like they were the Ten
Commandments. There's this story Tyler tells.
He'd tested an animal for sale, and Caverly reached
out immediately. Recognized the cow family from
some herd in rural New England that had dispersed
years earlier. That's the power of combining
old knowledge with new technology, folks. Sometimes
the moments that shape us come when we least
expect them. Picture young Tyler at Eastern States.
He's in that old cattle barn. You know, the one,
one. The one where the roof leaks every time
it rains, but the acoustics are perfect for hearing
a good cow bellow. He stops to admire some mature
Ayrshire milk cows. The cow that catches his
eye? Later, he'd realize it was connected to
the legendary Sweet Pepper Black Francesca. This
older guy starts talking to him about the cows,
really getting into the details about balance
and dairy strength. That stranger? Richard Caverly
himself. Caverly worked with household names.
Gold Prize, Nadine, Melanie, Delilah, Ashlyn,
Victoria, Veronica, and Franny. With his partner
Bev, he developed Sweet Pepper Black Francesca,
two -time Ayrshire Grand Champion at World Dairy
Expo in Eastern States. And here's what Caverly
told young Tyler that day. Breed your cow the
way you want your cow to be, not what everyone
else thinks they should be. Revolutionary stuff
when you think about it. Since July, Tyler's
mornings have gotten, let's call them, interesting.
He's managing Maple Line Farms jerseys, beautiful
spread in Hadley where the river valley creates
perfect growing conditions. And he's managing
Divine Farms Holsteins. And he's maintaining
his own Ayrshire program split between Massachusetts
and New Hampshire. That's not a job, folks. That's
three jobs. And he's crushing all of them. before
your first cup of coffee gets cold. His morning
routine? It would break most people. Hell, it
would break most of the farmers, posting sunrise
photos on Instagram. 4 .30 a .m., wake up. Immediately
checks the Alta Need App Now app on his phone.
The system tracks eating, rumination, inactive
behavior, basically telling him which cows need
attention before they even know they need attention.
Tyler says, The Ayrshires adjust very well to
the commercial setting with the jerseys. They
milk well and look good doing it. But here's
what he's not saying, integrating specialty breeds
into commercial operations. That takes a level
of management skill that maybe 5 % of dairymen
actually possess. Oh, and in his quote -unquote
spare time, he's doing relief AI work for Alta,
helping other farms improve conception rates.
The man's either crazy or brilliant. Memorial
Day weekend, 2025. Everyone remembers that weather.
Rain coming sideways. Temperature, barely cracking
50 degrees. The kind of New England spring that
makes you question all your life choices. What
could have been a disaster for the inaugural
Stars and Stripes sale in Greenfield? Tyler turned
it into something else entirely. Working with
his wife Toni, Jersey girl through and through,
and partners Zach Tarek and Caitlin Small, they
didn't just organize another cattle sale. They
built something bigger. Workshops the night before.
Actual hands -on teaching about fitting, show
prep, judging. Not some PowerPoint presentation
in a stuffy room. Real learning with real cattle.
They recruited youth to lead animals in the sale
ring. Put a young person on the sales staff making
actual decisions. You know why that matters?
Because most sales treat kids like decoration.
Tyler made them participants. You want to know
what real impact looks like? Not Facebook likes
or Instagram followers. Actual impact? Let me
tell you about Livvy Russo. 2020, middle of COVID
when everything was sideways. Her family reaches
out looking for a project calf. Most people would
have just run the credit card and shipped the
animal. Tyler? He loads up the trailer, drives
the calf up to northern Vermont himself, that's
a six -hour round trip, and starts a relationship
that would transform this kid's life. Fast forward
to World Dairy Expo 2025, those iconic colored
shavings everyone posts pictures of. Tyler says,
one fond memory I have is watching Livvy show
her first bred and owned. He and Chris sat in
those uncomfortable metal bleachers, you know
the ones where your back hurts after 10 minutes.
supposedly evaluating the class, but really,
as Tyler puts it, just being so proud to see
her succeed to this level. That's not mentorship,
folks. That's investment in the industry's actual
future. Then there's Maddie Poitras, coming from
longtime Jersey breeders, but she caught the
Ayrshire bug working with Tyler. He says, Maddie
has never backed down with any challenge we have
thrown at her. Here's what kills me about all
this. Dairy programs are closing left and right.
4 -H participation dropping every year. FFA chapters
can barely field a dairy judging team. And we've
got people like Tyler volunteering their time,
their most valuable resource, teaching kids about
top -line clipping and breeding decisions. Then
we wonder why succession rates are in the toilet.
Let's talk about what nobody wants to discuss
at the co -op meetings. Class III milk futures
for October 2025 are hovering around $16 .94
per hundredweight. Meanwhile, genomic progress
is accelerating. Annual genetic gains have more
than doubled. But milk prices? They're not keeping
pace with anything except maybe our frustration
levels. According to USDA's latest numbers, we're
producing 226 .4 billion pounds of milk with
26 ,290 licensed dairy herds. That's up from
170 .3 billion pounds in 2003 when we had 70
,375 herds. Do the math. We're producing 33 %
more milk with 63 % fewer farms. You know what
Tyler's response is? Work harder, work smarter.
Manage two farms, do relief breeding, organize
sales, mentor kids. build his own herd on the
side. This is the new reality, folks. The days
of managing one 60 -cow herd and sending the
kids to college, those days are dead and buried.
Behind every successful dairy operation, and
I mean actually successful, not just surviving,
is usually a spouse who gets it. For Tyler, that's
Tony. Together, they're raising three -year -old
Casey and one -year -old Keegan in the barn.
Not despite it. In it. Tyler shares. Casey's
favorite is pushing cows through the free stall
and milking. That little kid, barely tall enough
to reach the panel switches, already knows the
difference between a close -up cow and a fresh
cow. While other kids are at daycare learning
their ABCs, Casey's learning that cows have personalities,
that fresh milk tastes nothing like that white
water they sell at Stop and Shop, and that real
work starts before the sun comes up. They're
also hiring college students from local universities.
Some who don't even have cattle backgrounds,
but are willing to learn something new. You watch
these kids discover they actually love this life.
That's how you build the future workforce. Not
by complaining about kids these days at the feed
store, by actually teaching them. Remember what
Caverly said? Breed your cow the way you want
your cow to be, not what everyone else thinks
they should be. Those words are living through
Tyler's work. In an industry obsessed with trends,
remember when everyone was chasing plus 3 ,000
GTPI bulls like they were lottery tickets? This
philosophy is almost rebellious. But here's the
kicker. It works. Using milk bulls on type cows
and type bulls on milk cows sounds like contrarian
nonsense until you realize it's producing cows
that excel everywhere. Commercial dairies want
different things than show herds. Export markets
have different requirements than domestic processors.
The cheese plants want components, the fluid
guys want volume. One size fits all breeding?
That ship has sailed. Let me give you Tyler's
actual genomic selection checklist, not theory.
What he actually does. First, test every heifer
calf at two months. Earlier is better, always.
Second, look for plus 150 net merit minimum.
Anything less goes to beef breeding. Third, Check
health traits first, production second. Sick
cows don't pay bills. Fourth, cross -reference
with actual dam performance. Genomics lie sometimes.
Fifth, use outcross bulls on high genomic heifers.
Heterosis still matters. Sixth, keep detailed
records on every mating. Memory fails, spreadsheets
don't. The morning after receiving the award
at World Dairy Expo, standing on those colored
shavings while the crowd watched, Tyler was exactly
where you'd expect. 4 .30 a .m., checking his
NEDAP reports, moving fresh cows, planning breedings.
The purple banner was already old news. The work
continues. Tyler says, being humble and supportive
of your peers in the industry is what matters
most. Purple banners and blue ribbons are always
great, but to receive them with hard work, perseverance,
and dedication behind it means even more. That
wooden carving of Glenimore Gold Prize EX976E,
Caverly's favorite cow, it sits on a shelf somewhere
in Tyler's office. But the real legacy? It's
in the youth he mentors. The genetic progress
he's driving. The example he sets every damn
morning at 4 .30. Here's the truth nobody wants
to say out loud at the co -op meetings or the
breed association conventions. If we had more
Tyler Woodmans, people willing to work multiple
operations, embrace technology without abandoning
tradition, mentor youth without expecting anything
in return, we wouldn't be talking about an 83
.5 % failure rate for generational transfers.
We'd be talking about the revival of American
dairy farming. The question is, are you going
to be part of the problem or part of the solution?
Because while you're thinking about it, scrolling
through your phone, Complaining about milk prices
at the coffee shop. Tyler Woodman's already three
hours into his day making decisions that'll impact
the industry for generations. Teaching a kid
how to fit a heifer. Running genomics on next
year's calf crop. Building something that'll
outlast us all. And that phone that rang in the
middle of morning chores? It wasn't just announcing
an award winner. It was announcing what the future
of dairy farming looks like. If we're smart enough
to pay attention. Look, I don't care if you think
Tyler's breeding philosophy is crazy. I don't
care if you believe genomics are a waste of money.
But you better care that this 28 -year -old is
doing what 83 .5 % of you can't, building a dairy
operation that'll survive the next decade. His
morning routine will shame you. His breeding
philosophy will anger you. And his results? They'll
force you to admit everything you believe about
dairy succession is wrong. This isn't inspiration
porn, folks. This is the blueprint for the only
dairy model that survives 2030. You've been listening
to The Bullvine. Now get off your ass and do
something about it.