A Day with a Local 24-Year-Old Sheep Farmer

Tuesday 17 February 

7:30am – St Andrews

“How early do you want to start?” Craig Byrne messaged the night before, adding a laughing emoji. Byrne, a 24-year-old sheep farmer, manages 3,000 sheep.

Nine hours later, I waited on a bench outside Taste. Seagulls broke through the flush of day.

Byrne emerged from a white panel van and we shook hands, his hands blackened with oil.

“Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough?” he asked. We grabbed coffees for the road, preparing for the day ahead.

The van was, as warned, coated in mud and dust, sharp with the smell of oil. I felt a poke from behind. Lynn, Byrne’s fourteen-month-old border collie, was helping with the sheep.

7:40am – On route

Byrne usually starts at 5am, trying to get paperwork done before daylight. He doesn’t come from a farming family; he runs his business independently. A quick business opportunity took him from no debt to £100,000 in debt, which he’s steadily repaying.

“You can’t change the weather,” he said, “so you learn to cope with it.”

Sheep farmers’ main responsibilities are to pay farmers at the agreed-upon time, contain sheep, and collect dead sheep. He tries to avoid wintering land or land used to feed livestock over winter, more than an hour away so that if a sheep gets out, he can be there fast.

You can't just leave when you have livestock. As a sheep farmer, you are tied to the land.

7:50am – Fife fields

Byrne pulled over, the hills dark where they blocked the sun. Sheep dotted the ridgelines. I was jolted by Lynn’s heavy bounds as she sprang from the van.

“Away! Away!” Byrne shouted, whistling. “Lynn!” The sheep scattered away from Lynn.

He explained that “Away!” commands Lynn to the right, and “Come by!” commands Lynn to the left.

“These are breeding sheep,” he said. “They’re grazing radishes.” 

After harvest, leftover plant matter germinates into biomass. Grazing fattens sheep, increases crop yield, and removes diseased leaves.

“Over!” Byrne called. Lynn cleared the fence, and we headed into the van.

8:00am – On route

Byrne pointed out a mob of 700 sheep grazing stubble turnip, a catch crop, after grazing the cauliflower. Fencing would need shifting later.

We stopped by Newport-on-Tay for fuel before crossing the Tay into Fowlis. “I drive about 40,000 miles a year,” he said.

Byrne waved to farmers as we passed.

“Half of my business came from conversation,” he explained. Three weeks after meeting a farmer in Northumberland, he was given 1500 sheep. A farmer he met on Friday just gave him 700 sheep. Byrne’s phone buzzed with updates.

“There’s a lot of trust in farming,” he explained. Everyone knows everyone. If you mess up, no one wants to work with you.

We followed a road lined with dry stone walls. Pastures rolled toward a silver strip of water, snowy hills rising in the distance.

“There’s 420 self-shearing sheep here,” Byrne said.

Of the lambing process, he explained that lambing systems vary.  Farmers often lamb from December to May, ready for slaughter in the summer. Byrne also fattens sheep belonging to other farmers from October onwards for a set fee per head each week.

8:45am – Angus fields

“Come by! Come by!” Byrne yelled as Lynn darted toward the sheep.

It was colder than expected, so I ended up wearing four layers, including Byrne’s jacket. Although new last week, it was already muddied.

Byrne unloaded the quad bike, and we set off.

Since Thursday, the sheep had grazed most of the biomass, so the fencing needed moving. We dropped posts, changed batteries, and wired lines, often untangling wire from the bike. Byrne said he plans out fields on maps before work.

He enjoys learning from podcasts when he hasn't lost his earbuds: recently, he has resorted to tucking his phone into his beanie.

I clung to the edge of the oily seat as we chased the sheep on the bike. “Lynn!” Byrne shouted.

He explained that although sheep were originally bred for wool, wool is now removed to keep sheep healthy. Sheep headbutting, running through the electric fence, or not listening are other challenges.

We chased the last uncooperative sheep. Lynn jumped back on, and we raced across golden fields under a cloudless sky. Occasionally, she rested her head in my lap.

10:00am – Farm grounds

Byrne indicated a warehouse used to fatten chickens before they’re processed fifteen miles away. Another farmer arrived, and they discussed the week ahead, sharing some banter.

11:00am – Dundee

We stopped for sandwiches. Byrne usually gets two pork pies, sharing with Lynn.

Outside farming, he enjoys squash, badminton, and hiking in the Highlands. “I just put my boots on and go,” he said. He wants to learn Gaelic and try alligator meat in Louisiana.

In St Andrews, Byrne likes The Cottage Kitchen and Molly Malones. He doesn’t drink much anymore, but is happy to have a lemonade with friends at the pub.

11:30am – Fife fields

Byrne explained that this is a stubble turnip field, to be followed by potatoes. Down the road, the white polytunnels were growing strawberries and raspberries.

He instructed me to take posts, take paces down the row, and drive them into the ground. We wired the fencing around the field.

Byrne showed me how to strike with a hammer, letting its weight do the work. I nearly buckled when handed it, but he swung effortlessly.

I tested the electric fence with my hand. Rattled, I jumped. Byrne laughed, saying that sometimes farmers stand on one leg to absorb less current.

“Lynn! Away!” he shouted as she herded sheep into the expanded field. The sheep descended “like locusts” upon the new biomass.

Despite the impressive nature of this scene, there are not actually many young people going into farming. Byrne explained that the average age of a farmer is nearly sixty. High costs like £150,000 for a tractor and £5,000 for a trained border collie, the need to chase up unpaid invoices, night maintenance, and Scottish weather dissuade many.

“My job is to like mud,” he joked.

According to Byrne, a farmer needs patience, adaptability, and good mentors.

His motto, “I’m never beat, and I always land on my feet,” keeps him going.

4:00pm – Fife fields

“Come by! Come by!” Byrne shouted. Lynn rounded the sheep, the new fields starting to sink into shadow. A train rolled by.

I asked Byrne if he considered himself a shepherd. He said farmers own the land while shepherds are employed caretakers, so he supposed he could be one.

“Away! Away! Lynn!”

Lynn panted, her nostrils steaming. She looked satisfied.

4:10pm – On route

Stone cottages, a recently restored castle, and a kirkyard overlooked the valley.

Byrne hopes to prove himself more this year. Although farmers can compete for more land and ground, he said they work together and help each other out.

Although farming is usually perceived as a traditionally masculine industry, Byrne remarked that there are a few independent female farmers. More often, however, women serve as the brains behind the farms in husband-wife partnerships.

4:45pm – Kingsbarns

We pulled into the beach where Byrne said that on certain days along the coast, you could faintly see Edinburgh across the water. As we watched the waves, Byrne spoke further on the industry, saying that you could sell £100,000 of stock on a market day, and that farmers on this side of Fife are more likely to wear ties when selling.

We passed woods dotted with snowdrops, stables, and an old mansion before driving back to St Andrews. Having worked here, he knew all the backroads.

When I asked Byrne what laypeople could do to help support farmers, he encouraged buying local produce and looking for the QMS (Quality Meat Scotland) assured label on meat products, which also helps the environment.

Byrne’s goal is to own 1,000 sheep and 100 cows by 30, and begin payments for his own farm by 40. He hopes to build something to handover to the next generation.

Although he doesn’t wish the stress on anyone, spending nights worrying about his sheep and with only his dog as company for now, he plans to farm for the rest of his life.

Photos courtesy of Craig Byrne and Isabelle Holloway