An Oasis in the Palliser Triangle: A conversation with Calvin Gavelin

If cover crops can work here, they can work anywhere.

The Palliser Triangle has always demanded grit. Stretching across southern Saskatchewan into southeastern Alberta, this region is defined by extremes: searing heat, biting cold, fierce winds, and an annual rainfall of less than 10 inches. Classified as semi-desert, this open prairie landscape was originally said to be unsuitable for human settlement, but settle it anyway, we did. Only now, thanks to a few brave farmers, are we realizing the difference it can make to farm with nature instead of against it. Especially in the desert.

For Calvin and Marla Gavelin, who farm near McCord, Saskatchewan, it became glaringly obvious. “I realized one day that we’d been killing our soils since they were homesteaded,” Calvin says. “There were no living roots, nothing protecting them. Every time it got hot, the ground just baked.”

That moment of clarity came in 2018. Calvin was haying under a blistering July sun when he noticed the contrast between his cropland and the nearby native prairie. His fields were scorched and lifeless, while the prairie was green and cool under a canopy of plants. “I thought, Mother Nature knows what she’s doing,” he said. “We needed to start paying attention.”

A First Step Into the Unknown

In 2019, Calvin and Marla dipped their toes into regenerative farming. They attended a one-day grazing course with Holistic Management Canada. The concepts resonated immediately: diversity, living roots, animal integration, and soil health. Soon after, they planted their first cover crop — a humble blend of beans, hairy vetch, and tillage radish.

Then disaster struck. A hailstorm wiped out everything. Their Durham wheat never recovered, but the cover crop came back. Being naturally more resilient, it kept growing until fall, chest high and buzzing with bees. That winter, the Gavelins swath-grazed their herd on that field, something they had never done before. “It was our first real glimpse of what was possible,” Calvin says. “It gave us hope.”

Drought Years and Super Ovulation

If 2019 offered hope, 2021 brought a trial by fire. Western Canada faced one of the worst droughts in living memory. Calvin’s peas yielded under two bushels, his Durham less than one, his lentils barely a quarter of a bushel per acre. Pastures were gone by June.

But three fields of cover crops hung on. They grew where nothing else did, providing forage when cattle feed was scarce. More than that, they delivered something Calvin never expected. That fall, when the veterinarian preg-checked his cows, she was astonished. Neighbouring herds were seeing conception rates as low as 50 to 60 percent due to poor feed. The Gavelins’ young cows checked in at 97 percent.

“She asked me what I did differently,” Calvin recalls. “All I could say was, they’d been on cover crops.” Later, forage specialists explained that the cows had likely experienced super ovulation thanks to the diversity of nutrients in the mix. What could have been a devastating year turned into a lesson: diversity builds resilience not only in soil but in livestock as well.

An Oasis in the Desert

That fall, specialists from Saskatchewan Agriculture visited the farm. They expected to find parched stubble like everywhere else. Instead, they walked into waist-high cover crops, alive with insects and pollinators. They called it “an oasis in the middle of a desert.”

Soil tests confirmed what their eyes told them. Organic matter was rising. Biological activity was climbing. Soil probes that stalled in dry stubble slid easily into moist soil under the cover crop canopy. Nutrien, the ag retailer conducting the tests, didn’t believe the results at first and came back to test again. The numbers held.

Visitors began to take notice. Researchers once measured soil surface temperatures on a scorching 38-degree day. Bare soil reached 52 degrees, cereal stubble hit 45, but under the cover crops the thermometer read just 26. One expectant mother touring the field laughed, saying, “I laid down in it — it really is that cool.”

Innovation in Seeding

Calvin insists his success is not magic but management. His biggest breakthrough was seeding depth. Conventional wisdom said to plant deep, chasing moisture. Calvin did the opposite. He seeded shallow — just a quarter to half an inch. “The moisture comes to them,” he explains. “If you work deeper, you dry the seedbed out.”

It worked. His cover crops germinated on as little as two-tenths of an inch of rain. Even in the drought year of 2021, with only seven-tenths of an inch total, his covers still survived. “In nine years of drought, I’ve never failed to get a cover crop,” he says.

He also experiments with intercropping, seeding winter triticale into Durham wheat so that living roots remain active after the cash crop shifts into seed production. He has designed perennial blends with up to 20 species — annuals, biennials, and perennials working in succession.

The upfront seed costs, sometimes $80 or more per acre, raised eyebrows. But as one reporter on a farm tour pointed out, if the stand lasts a decade, the cost per year is far lower than reseeding annuals. And the benefits — forage, soil building, biodiversity — are undeniable.

Family, Freedom, and Healing

The changes have transformed the Gavelins’ family life. Before regeneration, Calvin carried the stress of the farm alone. Long hours, heavy debts, and poor crops wore him down. “I was negative, always under pressure,” he admits. “It was hard on me, hard on Marla, hard on the kids.”

Regeneration eased the burden. Cows grazed longer into winter. Workloads lightened. And something unexpected happened: the family began to enjoy the farm again. Their daughters wanted to help move cattle, fascinated by the birds and insects returning to the fields. Calvin, once too busy to leave chores, found himself at the rink watching hockey. “Regen gave us our family back,” he says quietly. “It probably saved our marriage too.”

Opening the Farm

The Gavelins believe in sharing their story. They have hosted tours of 200 or more visitors, planting side-by-side plots of nine different cover crop blends across 150 acres so farmers could see how species performed in real-world topography. “It’s one thing to see a 10-by-10-foot research plot,” Calvin says. “It’s another to see waist-high sunflowers in a dry year, or peas and radish growing on a hilltop. That’s what convinces people.”

Their openness led to unexpected opportunities. In 2022, they helped bring regenerative pioneer Gabe Brown to speak in Assiniboia, Sask. Nearly 300 people turned up, triple what organizers expected. “It proved the hunger for this knowledge is real,” Calvin says proudly. “People want solutions.”

From Field to Fork

The COVID-19 pandemic created another turning point. With slaughter plants shut down, the Gavelins pivoted. Instead of shipping calves, they began selling beef directly to consumers. Marla took the lead, offering everything from bulk halves to $200 freezer packs. Customers raved about the flavor of beef finished on grass and cover crops. Orders spread by word of mouth, and soon 40 head that were scheduled to ship to a slaughter facility, instead were sold directly to customers. Today, most of their beef is pre-sold before processing.

“Customers say it tastes different,” Calvin explains. “It’s the diversity in their diet. Just like we don’t want to eat only lettuce at a salad bar, cows don’t want just one thing either. They choose what they need, and it makes the beef richer.”

A New Legacy

Looking back, Calvin sometimes marvels at the transformation. They have cut fertilizer use by two-thirds. Their herd health has improved. Their debt load is lighter. Their marriage is stronger. Their daughters are engaged. Their soils are alive again.

“In our context, it’s given us opportunities we never dreamed of. Instead of killing our soils, we’re bringing them back to life," said Calvin.

Calvin Gavelin with a herd of cow calf pairs.