We’re not out for the highest yield at any expense. We’re out for the highest yield we can produce profitably.

The Gallatin Valley is a bustling place. Snug in the shadow of towering Rocky Mountain peaks, the valley is home to Montana State University, the hip and thriving town of Bozeman and a diverse, often progressive community of farmers — ranging from container hydroponic growers of salad greens to large-scale commercial producers — that make it feel more like a California valley than one in Montana.

We went from farming white sugar sand to farming the heaviest of clay soils when my family moved our farming operation from Florida to Alabama in 1989. To say the move made farming a bit different would be a drastic understatement.

I don't know everything when it comes to farming. Admitting that fact, and seeking out the knowledge of others, has helped our farm move forward at a steady pace over the years.

About 75% OF the acres around me still aren’t no-tilled. I can’t blame them. It wasn’t the easiest change to make, but it’s well worth it in my opinion.

No-till has resulted in our area having what I would venture to say are some of the strongest capitalized farms in the country. In fact, no-till is one of the only reasons we have farming in the area at all.

I was born into no-till, you could say. It’s really all I’ve ever known. My grandfather was a big proponent for the environment and was an advocate when my Dad pushed for reducing tillage on our farm in the early 1990s.

We weren’t farmers when my family moved to northwest Nebraska in 1995. I grew up in the mountains of Colorado with my mom, Nancy, who was working as a veterinarian and my dad, Rex, an architect.

In the last 10 years I’ve seen no-till declining in my area. I simply don’t understand it, maybe it’s the draw of recreational tillage as we like to call it, but to me it’s just not sustainable in the long run.