Ernesto Castro and his family honor the traditions of regenerative ranching
Ernesto Castro walks with the quiet gravity of a man who’s lived three lifetimes. On an overcast March day in Cornville, as he surveys the family land of Tres Hermanas Ranch, his gaze is bittersweet—a mixture of memories and dreams, some realized, some forgotten. Arizona’s ranching roots run deep. Once, cattle outnumbered people in the state. Ranches like Tres Hermanas were the backbone of local economies and the fabric of rural life.
“It’s definitely been a challenge—costs have gone up across the board,” he says. “We haven’t turned a profit yet, but we’re continuing to learn and adapt as we figure out what it takes to break even while building something sustainable.”
Ernesto and his wife, Isabel, purchased the approximately 70-acre ranch in March 2013. The previous owners named the property for their three daughters and the Castros, who also had three daughters, kept the name. With the help of two ranch hands, he works the land day-to-day. He also handles the bulk beef sales while Isabel manages the bookkeeping.
One of their daughters, Erica, handles the direct-to-consumer sales of individual cuts of beef. He and Isabel manage rental properties to help subsidize the ranch. Like many ranching families in the region, they balance off-ranch jobs while working the land together.
“It’s a family effort, just in different roles,” he says.
Ernesto was a certified pedorthist—a health professional trained in foot care using therapeutic footwear and supportive devices—and chose this life as his “retirement,” but there’s nothing leisurely about it. We meet at the edge of the paddock, where baby calves were born just hours before. High cirrus clouds create an overcast of sorts, but no rain is in sight. We approach the mama cows and their babies and have the immediate appreciation of spring and its ushering in of life.
He shares how the family had to downsize dramatically. “We used to keep over 50 breeding cows, but I lost my grazing leases to a housing development and had to change course. Our ranch can only support 50–60 head on our own pastures. When we raised our own calves, we would have over 150 head at one time. Now, instead of raising them year-round, I purchase calves from a reputable multi-generational ranch,” Ernesto says. It’s the arithmetic of ranch life—a balancing act of land, water, economics, and labor.
Unlike industrial operations, Tres Hermanas prioritizes sustainability over scale. The Castros raise Angus cattle on rotational grazing pastures, a regenerative practice that helps maintain soil health and increase biodiversity. “We use electric fencing—just a string—and move the herd every one to two days,” Ernesto explains. “That way, the grass gets time to recover.”
His pastures are a diverse mix of legumes, grasses, cowpea, and clover. “The quality of the grass and forage our cattle graze on—along with rotational grazing and natural care—plays a big role in the flavor, tenderness, and overall quality of our beef,” he says with pride.
Behind every decision at Tres Hermanas is a long view. It’s not just about today’s market—it’s about legacy, land stewardship, and integrity. Raising cattle the way Tres Hermanas does is a high-wire act—juggling nature, economics, tradition, and passion. But it also offers something no grocery store beef ever could: a taste of place, a lineage of care, a chance to support a food system built on relationships rather than volume.
As the afternoon sun sinks toward Mingus Mountain, Ernesto leads the way uphill to take in the full view of the property: green paddocks laid out like a quilt, dotted with Black Angus cows and pivot irrigation sprinklers. These sprinklers were installed through a partnership with The Nature Conservancy, whose grants support the restoration of working lands.
“There’s a community desire to replenish these lands, to get them back to their former glory, to steward in a way that’s ecologically sound,” Ernesto says. It’s a view that tells a larger story—one about resilience and change, about fighting for what still matters in a landscape where subdivision and urban development are steadily encroaching.
Before we part ways, Ernesto shows me something most visitors would miss: a modest irrigation ditch. Oak Creek Ditch is 160 years old and snakes across five miles of Cornville. It supplies water to over 80 properties. This simple ditch represents one of the many hidden responsibilities of ranching—negotiating not just livestock, but land policy, neighborly trust, and shared survival.
Tres Hermanas Ranch holds 24/7 water rights. Ernesto served three terms as president of the Mason Lane Ditch Association, which governs this invaluable resource, and is still a member of its board of directors. As such, he will continue to help manage and sustain it.
As consumers, we hold power with our choices. When we seek out the products of ranches like Tres Hermanas, we’re not just buying meat—we’re buying into a vision of food that is local, ethical, and enduring. I drive away from Cornville with a renewed respect for ranchers—and a deeper understanding of what it really means to feed a community.
Visit treshermanasranch.com to learn more about Tres Hermanas Ranch and to purchase beef directly.
