Monster-Proof Farm

A big reason this farm uses WWOOF volunteers is the need for help during the big garlic harvest in late July, and that’s exactly what we did this week.

The harvest went smoothly. First, a tractor drove down the lines of garlic with an implement that turned up the earth without damaging the crop. Then the rest of us walked down the lines with armfuls of twine and tied up bundles of the upturned garlic. After loading the tied bundles onto the back of a pickup, we drove them to the barn and hung them from the rafters to dry. Anna and I spent a few hours last week hammering nails into those rafters for this very purpose, and we used just about every nail we put in.

We’re talking about a lot of garlic here—at least more than I’ve ever seen at once. I now feel very assured that nobody on this farm is a vampire. Didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but whenever the sun comes out, everyone here covers up with long sleeves, big hats and gallons of sunblock. You never know…

We expected the harvest to take a whole week, but with so many helpers we were able to finish in three easy days. That seemed like great news until Julie, the farm owner, pulled me aside and told me they were unusually ahead of schedule and wouldn’t have much work for me in August. I very much enjoyed my experience on this farm and hoped to stay here a few more weeks, but I also learned it helps to take on an attitude of accepting what comes without holding on to expectations—I think that’s a big secret to enjoying life, especially if you’re drifting for a living.

The good news is that Julie is happy with me and is helping me find another farm in the area. She’s made some calls and given me good references. I’m hoping to secure a spot on an organic apple orchard a few miles south of here, but the owners of that farm are out of town until next week. There are other WWOOF farms nearby, but I want to hold out for my first choice before settling for something else. Julie offered to let me stay here longer if I had no place to go, but I don’t want to feel like extra weight or wear out my welcome. I also like the idea of using some down time to do some camping and explore the area. Glacier National Park is only an hour drive away, and that seems like too good of an opportunity to pass up.

I just hope the werewolves up there know to keep their distance.

Want Me to Kill That For You?

Finished my first week on the Montana farm. The Utah place had its perks, but this already feels like a more enriching experience. While the Utah vineyard was an isolated environment, this farm works closely with the large farming community in the area and sells through a local cooperative. They also grow a large variety of fruits and vegetables here, as opposed to just grapes, and I get to work more directly with all the produce we’re growing. There is also a more traditional farm family here; the couple that owns and runs the farm has an adorable 4-year-old daughter and the aunts, uncles and grandparents come by every day to help out with the chores. It’s also nice not to have to worry about pulling cactus quills out of my ankles every afternoon.

The food is great! As much as possible, what we eat here is grown here, and the pantry is stocked full of dried beans and grains from previous harvests. On my first day, I received a tour of the home garden where we can help ourselves to a variety of lettuces, beets, peas, strawberries, herbs and a wealth of other goodies. A dairy cow lives here, too, so all the milk is fresh and raw, as well as the homemade yogurt and butter. There is also a small herd of cattle for beef and a large freezer is filled to the brim from last year’s slaughter. The family just finished building an outdoor cob oven they use for making their own sourdough breads and for frequent pizza parties. Anything that can’t be provided internally or traded with other local farmers is bought at a natural food store in nearby Missoula. There are definitely no Walmart receipts to be found on this property.

The work is what I expected: lots of weeding. Someone once told me that organic farming is 90% weeding, and so far that seems to be accurate. I spend the better part of my days either scraping the ground with a hula hoe or digging it up with a trowel. I felt a bit embarrassed my first day when I was weeding onions with Julie, the farm owner, and Anna, my friend and the farm intern. I looked down the field after an hour of weeding and saw their lines of onion stalks standing tall and straight, but mine crumbled, broken and leaning every which way. Even more embarrassing was that I could only weed about half as much as they could in the same amount of time. Hopefully I’ll get better with practice.

I did learn how to use a brush mower, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It’s a lot like a regular gas-powered push mower for a lawn, except that it can also take down small trees. This thing can run over anything, even a cinder block (which I did). My first task was to mow between rows of asparagus. The asparagus plot here had been left to grow wild for a long time, which has something to do with nurturing the soil that I don’t quite understand, so the weeds were as tall as the asparagus stalks—which were as tall as me. It looked not unlike a jungle and I had a lot of fun plowing through it with my beast of a mower. Unfortunately, I also took out a huge bed of lupin flowers that Julie planted next to the asparagus. This is where my inexperience came into play; they looked like weeds to me.

I felt pretty bad when I realized my mistake, and I apologized profusely. Julie was very understanding and told me not to worry about it. After she walked away, her father came up to me in private and said “I always hated those flowers.” Then he told me that if I wiped out the rest of the lupins on the property he’d give me a big tip.

Julie’s sister gave me the nickname “Killer” after that episode. I was afraid I wouldn’t be allowed to use the atomic mower again, but they still trust me with it. I’ve had loads of fun wiping out overgrown weed forests all over the property without any more unwanted casualties, although Anna did stop me just moments before taking out the strawberry patch. I don’t know if I would have recovered from that one.

First week is down and I’m still thrilled to be here. I’m also told I’ll have the opportunity to learn how to slaughter chickens in a few days. Never thought I’d say it, but I’m really excited about that.

There's Something Therapeutic About Digging a Hole

After my first week here, I felt like a complete slacker. The workdays were too short, the work was too easy and there were too many breaks. I came out here to live the farm life and I expected long days and backbreaking labor to be part of that. Instead, I’m getting a disappointingly laid-back vacation with lots of free entertainment. I’m trying to build character, damnit!

Keep in mind that I come from a long line of German Lutherans (100%... both sides of the fam) and we’re ingrained with a strong protestant work ethic. You’re not happy? Just work harder. You are happy? Great, work harder. We don’t talk about our problems, we work until they go away.

I really tried to tell myself to just enjoy this place for what it was for the few weeks I’ll be here, but I couldn’t get past the feeling that I was wasting time when I could be somewhere else doing something more productive. Most of the work we did my first week involved cutting and gluing PVC pipes in a shaded wooden shack with a radio blasting, and I swear that the other volunteers managed to stretch out one day’s worth of work over most of the week. We had to work together and it almost drove me crazy to wait impatiently for the next cut while they found every excuse to slack off. Make a cut, get a drink, eat some food, talk about movies, chase a lizard, complain about the heat, have a pipe-throwing contest, make another cut, etc.

That was week one. Week two, everything changed.

I have a feeling Danny noticed the other volunteers weren’t doing much other than playing video games, eating his food and drinking all his beer. Whatever the reason, he surprised us all Monday morning by handing everyone a shovel and assigning us to dig holes to uncover irrigation pipes. When Danny explained the task, I could feel the awkward silence as the others realized what we were expected to do.

I got to work solo, and I can’t remember the last time I dug such a big hole. Maybe I never did. The ground was hard and it was tough work. The heat was in the high 90’s and bugs were biting. I’m not a sweaty guy—I frequently ran a four mile loop in Oregon under a hot sun with nothing more than a misty brow—but my shirt got properly soaked from that digging. My arms and legs were sore and my back felt like it was about to snap, and that was only by lunchtime. I had to keep digging another hour before I found the pipe, and then dig the rest of the day to make enough space to tap into it. Not only that, but our workday went on quite a bit longer before Danny told us to come in. Then we had to do the same thing the next day. It reminded me of that movie about holes where all the kids dig holes all day and there were holes everywhere and they couldn’t go to bed until they were done digging their holes. What was that called?

After the second day, I woke up in a lot of pain. My arms and legs felt like noodles and it hurt to put on my shoes. My stiff muscles resisted every time I moved, even if I turned my neck. It was a good kind of hurt, and it felt great! For the first time since I arrived here, I felt like I put in a good day’s worth of work and could see the fruits of my labor in the big cavity in the ground. I was so proud of my hole. You can bet I was ecstatic when I finally found that pipe.

If you’ve never spent a whole afternoon digging a hole, then I strongly recommend it. You’re stuck there alone with your thoughts—no distractions—and you have some physical exertion to help purge anything unpleasant out of your mind. You also start seeing the faces of people you hate in the hard ground and get a lot of satisfaction ripping them apart with a shovel (that’s also a great way to get a burst of energy when you start feeling tired). In the end, you feel very centered and clear-headed.

We spent the rest of the week digging more ditches, then went on to pull weeds out of the grape fields. That was also tough, but even more rewarding since I was finally getting my hands in the dirt. I really started enjoying this place this week, although my fellow volunteers bring me down a bit. They now complain constantly about how rough life here has suddenly become… and they still find ways to slack off most of the day. Sorry to brag, but my hole was way more impressive than the one the two Brits dug together.

Dad always told me I’d end up digging ditches if I got a degree in film and philosophy. Guess he was right, but I’m sure he never imagined how much I'd enjoy it.

“The pile is the enemy of the hole.”
–Bart Simpson

What the Hell Kind of Farm is This?

I arrived at the vineyard Monday evening just before sunset. I had to drive down a long, windy gravel road that led deep into the Montezuma Canyon. The area is totally off the grid, and the canyon is amazing. It really is an oasis in the middle of the dessert. Lots of cows on the road, too.

I met Danny, the farm owner and manager, and Hank, his blue heeler, as I pulled up to his adobe house. He introduced me to the other WWOOFers, two from the UK and two from France. All guys about 20 and all friendly. I was a bit surprised to see the inside of the house where they were staying because it was so luxurious. They were all playing guitar hero on a big screen TV and had a table set up for beer pong. I'm not a fan of video games (Ms Pac-Man being the exception) or beer pong and my first reaction was oh my god, I just walked into a fraternity! Not the bare-bones organic farm life I expected or wanted. I started wondering how fast I could find another farm.

No worries... it got better.

Danny gave me a tour of the vineyards on the mule--the ATV that can traverse the rough canyon terrain. He owns over 100 acres of property, but only about 30 of it is suitable for growing. He has over 20 acres of grapes and is planting another 6 acres this summer. He also has some fruit trees, but all of the apricots and cherries were obliterated by a late frost this season. Peaches may survive, and the grapes are all going strong.

Danny's family bought the property 6 years ago and he took it over 3 years ago. He decided he wanted to grow organic grapes with nothing more than some introductory viticulture classes. And he decided to do it in the middle of Mormon country, which considers alcohol to be similar to the plague. So far, it's going well. He makes his own wine in a nearby cave, but only for personal use because it will be a few years before he can get a license to sell it publicly. He sells most of his wine grapes to nearby wineries. Table grapes and other fruits sell at farmers markets in Monticello and Moab.

Next to one of the vineyards, sitting along the canyon wall, is a cozy white trailer. Danny told me all the rooms in the house were full, so I'd have to sleep there. I think he thought I'd be disappointed, but that was the best news he could have told me.

I love my trailer! It's clean, has more space than I need and it gives me some privacy and solitude, which I've learned to appreciate. It also means I can go to bed before the other WWOOFers are done making a late night racket in the house. Of course, I'm welcome in the house whenever I want. It takes about three minutes to walk there.

We went back to the house for a bean soup dinner and I got acquainted with the other volunteers. At about midnight, Danny asked if we wanted to go for a ride. All six of us piled into the mule, two standing on the back, and Danny drove us deep into the canyon. When he reached a small clearing we got out and followed him over some rocks. It was pretty dark and hard to see the ground, but the sound of running water grew closer and closer. Eventually, we shone a light over the edge of one the rocks and saw that it stood over a waterfall that dropped about 20 feet straight below us. We kept climbing across rocks until Danny told us to turn off the flashlights and look up.

It turns out this is one of the best stargazing regions in the country. I had never seen so many stars! Not only that, but shooting stars flared across the sky every few minutes. I had only seen two shooting stars in my whole life, but that night I lost count. We all found places to lay down and stare straight up at the sky, which we did for almost an hour. A really good bottle of rum was passed around the whole time.

I ended up sleeping on the sofa in the house that night because it became too late to get the trailer set up. I fell asleep feeling pretty good.

My Master Plan

So I'm going to be a WWOOFer. For those of you who don't know, WWOOF stands for Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms, and it's an organization that hooks up volunteers with organic farms around the world that need help. Usually, the farms provide lodging and food in exchange for 25 or so hours of work a week. Some require more hours of work. Many tell you to bring a tent. On rare occasion, some provide a stipend. Commitments can range anywhere from a few days to a few months. Every farm is different.

After spending countless summers staring at a computer screen in a dark office, I decided it was time for a change. I worked as a graphic designer/merchandiser at a natural food Co-op in Oregon until just a few days ago. Not a bad job, but after almost 5 years I was ready for something different. I'm 32 and I've spent most of my life working in offices, and I feel like I'm missing out on some basic life experiences. Living in the lush Willamette Valley, working at a food co-op and helping out at our weekly farmer's market, I meet plenty of farmers and farm workers. They talk a lot about their work and their harvests. It always sounds like a harsh life, but it also sound like something I want to experience. Not only do I want to work outdoors and work in the dirt, I want to know that I can do more than just click away at a mouse every day. I think I have some fear of letting go of the conveniences in my comfortable life, and I want to prove to myself that I can do without them.

I also want to travel and see the big bad world. So there.

At any rate, I decided it was time to take action, so I paid my dues for WWOOF-USA (wanted to try it domestically before going abroad), found a vineyard in Utah that needed volunteers, gave my notice at work and started selling everything I owned. I plan to travel and move around for a while, so I needed to do some serious minimalizing. I sold most of my books at the local used book stores, most of my furniture on Craigslist and most of my household items on Ebay. The rest was given to friends (traded a sofa for a nice backpack). It's amazing how fast I can accumulate junk.

It took a lot of work, but I managed to whittle my possessions down to what would fit in my car, aside from a few things left in my parent's attic (books, some sentimental stuff and a surfboard I couldn't bear to part with).

Money has been a concern lately. I recently sold a computer for $500, which made me very happy. The next week, I came down with a toothache and was told I had a fractured tooth that needed a crown. That cost exactly $500, which made me not so happy. I'm doing my best not to worry about it. Someone once told me that money flows—it comes and goes as you need it, as long as you let it. You don't prepare to travel by collecting all the water you need for the whole trip and carrying it around with you wherever you go. Instead, you find water as you need it. In the same way, you'll find ways to make money as the need arises, and it will come to you if you allow it. I like that idea. I guess I'll find out if things really work that way or if the lady who told it to me was totally wacko.

So here I am at my parent's house, the night before I take off. I have four days until I start at the Utah farm, so I plan to spend some time traveling around the mountain states. I also have plans to work at a farm in Montana in mid-July, but I'm still working out the dates for that one.

I'm a little nervous, but also excited. Worse case scenario, I have a sister in Santa Fe with a couch about my size.

Gotta finish packing...