Oyster Mushrooms

Glenn Coville is an avid mushroom enthusiast and has been for years. A few years ago, after collecting samples from the wild, he began his own mushroom growing operation. At the Wild Branch Valley Farm, behind the produce stand, they have this huge building that they call “the lab.” In the lab, Glenn takes tissue cultures from wild mushrooms and grows them in Petri dishes. Then, they pack them with barley into these airtight plastic bags. Glenn prefers cultivating on barley because it, unlike other, more expensive grains, still has the hull on it. The hull provides extra space; nooks and crannies, if you will for the fungus to grow. At this point, the mushroom startups are called mycelium. Once the mycelium is ready, then you pack it with straw into these huge plastic grow bags. That is where we come in.


In the greenhouse, the Covilles heat straw in this giant, homemade pasteurizer. Heated by a wood stove, the boiler sends steam into the metal bin that holds about five bales of hay. It heats the hay up to a safe temperature of about 180 degrees. With a pitchfork, Glenn throws the hay out onto a work table and it is our job to cool it. Standing around this table full of steaming hay, we grab handfuls it fluffing it to cool it off. We toss pile after pile of warm straw until the air cools it. It’s such a whimsical task. I’m not sure there is anything to compare it to. But, haha, of course I will try. Imagine making a huge pile of leaves in the fall, jumping into it, and throwing the leaves. It’s like that. Imagine what Scrooge Mcduck would do with paper money, tossing it about in the air…it’s kind of like that. (For those of you who needed a good “Duck Tails” reference in your life…you are so welcome)

Once the hay is properly cooled, we take the bags of mycelium that have formed white blocks, and break up the barley over the hay. We then pair up and pack the stuff into huge plastic bags called grow bags. The hay is a sort of vessel for the mushrooms to grow on. One person stuffs the bags with the straw while the other “slams” the hay down into it, squeezing as much hay and mushrooms in as possible, while also leaving air out. Once the bags are stuffed and tied, holes are punched in the bag. Then they are ready to go into the grow room where, after some time in dim lighting and high humidity, they produce heaps of oyster mushrooms.

Battle of the bev's:white birch beer vs. root beer

Amber chose root beer...yum

Katy chose white birch beer...eh. Taste like candy hearts. You know the kind from Valentine's Day that say things like "I'm yours" and "Fax me"





Root Beer Prevails!

Thunder Struck!

Before I begin here, I would like to go ahead and give my parents, Amber’s parents, and our grandparents a preemptive apology. Please don’t be frightened by this story, as it is one of the more awesome things that has ever happened to us.

Wednesday started off beautifully. We were starting to feel very cozy on the farm now. The Covilles are such warm, welcoming people and the Gabourys with little Miel added that extra feeling of closeness and family to the place. That morning we all had breakfast, some of the in-house chef/baker, Jonathan’s bread, standing around chatting in the kitchen. (It was a casual one compared to Tuesday’s incredible blueberry crepes with fresh yogurt and Vermont’s maple syrup.) After a nice start to the day, we all dispersed to our different chores of our own choice. I opted to mow, a task I would gladly do because it reminded me of home. Amber and Julia weeded and then Kris and April joined in for some harvesting as well.
Around noon, we took a break for lunch. Julia would be leaving to go back to Burlington soon and Amber and I had asked her to join us for an afternoon hike at Smuggler’s Notch in Stowe, Vt. It happened to be a hike she had never done but had heard great things about and it was right on her way home. We left at one with intentions of being back before five for another mushroom run.
The drive to Stowe was pleasant; a quick 40 minutes on beautiful, scenic highway 14. Stowe is a ski resort community in Vermont, with peaks that spike high above the highway below, rocky and magnificent. The road winding up to Mount Mansfield and the hiking trails is crazy curvey. The switch backs are so sharp that for one stretch the road is not even completely two lanes.


Like Grandfather Mtn, Mt. Mansfield resembles the profile of a man from the east side and tops out at about 4,300 feet as Vermont’s highest peak. Our hike was the Sterling Pond trail, only 1.1 miles, but straight up. This was surely going to be our workout for the day. The trail is narrow at times, but very well maintained. Some parts have been constructed like these extremely steep staircases, and some are narrow passages around paper birches and hemlocks. After about 5 minutes in, we (ok me, especially) were all sweating profusely, but enjoying the incredible view.

As we wound our way to the top, stepping in and out of tree roots and onto huge rocks, we found the Sterling Pond. Situated on the eastern ridge of the profile, Sterling Pond is this magnificent dark blue pond with pines surrounding it. We sat on a boulder on the rocky beach and enjoyed catching our breath under a bit of cloud cover. We saw a staircase behind us that led up to the top of the mountain, so we went up to check it out. It was where the chair lift lets off for the ski slopes, and amazing view in the summer time; maybe even a little creepy. No snow. No one in the booths operating the lift. The green metal chairs just stopped mid-swing. Wildflowers sprung up where piles of snow should be. Sometimes, when you are somewhere like that, somewhere that’s always associated with crowds of people but now is desolate; it can be a little weird. This wasn’t like that however; this was beautiful.
Just as we got to the top and looked down over Stowe, a bolt of lightning struck ahead, no more than a couple miles away. We seemed closer to the top of the bolt than the bottom. It was almost surreal. After snapping a few photos and enjoying the view, we decided that we should head down before the storm set in.
We got maybe 100 yards into the hike down before we heard thunder and lightning again. At this point, we were okay with the sprinkling rain as we were so hot from the hike. But we knew that we needed to make it down fast. We picked up the pace, and then….Rain.



Under the canopy, the trail got really dark from the cloud cover. Thunder seemed to rumble over and over just above our heads. The lightning was intense. It was like being in a dim room and someone flashed super bright LED lights on and off, on and off, and then, SMACK! That kind of thunder that sounds like what you think must be the nearest tree snapping in two, like the number two pencil of some nervous test-taker. The rain was falling hard now…or so we thought.

We began to leap down the trail, hurdling branches, trampling the wondrous variety of flora that so captivated us on our hike up. Then, the bottom fell out. Every time we thought it couldn’t rain any harder, there was another clap of thunder, and the rain kicked up another notch. Suddenly, we were completely soaked through and through. Stomping through what now looked more like a rushing mile-high waterfall than a hiking trail. The smell of electricity in the air. The taste of metal. The sound of our hearts beating not just in our chest, but in our ears, our faces even. That tingly sensation you get all over your body when something really scares the ‘you-know-what’ out of you. Teeth clenched both from straining to see through the cascading water that poured over our brows into our eyes, and also smiling, laughing even, at the extremity and awesomeness of the situation.

Of course by the time we reached the car at the bottom of the mountain, the rain had subsided. We said a hurried goodbye to Julia as she drove off. Luckily, because we live out of the Jetta now, we had dry clothes with us to change into. Catching our breath, we drove out of Smuggler’s Notch only to find that roads all around us were littered with debris from the storm. Our 45 minute drive there turned into a two hour drive home because of fallen trees and power lines. This storm was really something. And we were right under it.

It took us 40 minutes to climb the Sterling Pond Trail, and maybe 15 to come down. The view from the top was amazing, but nothing compared to the rush of being so close to the storm.

Earning Our Keep

The next few days were filled with awesome adventures, delicious food, great company, and a little hard work peppered in here and there. Monday was rainy, so we did a lot of work cleaning out some spaces in the greenhouse; clearing out wells, weeding, planting kale, cilantro, etc. Beacuse of the weather, we enjoyed a late start, longer lunch, and overall easier day. (special mention to April here for her homemade chocolates: Cacao powder, coconut oil, maple syrup and lavender...yum!)


Once it dried up a bit in the afternoon, we did some harvesting (snap peas). We also got to pull up the old peas that weren't fruiting any more and feed those to the sheep. The sheep live in a pasture out beyond the garden. There are about ten of them, some old, some young. When they see you coming toward the fence, they run, yelping, down the hill and let out these awesome sounds reminiscent of vomiting, that can't help but crack you up. "Blaaaah!"

Tuesday was a beautiful day so we spent most of the day weeding carrots, harvesting green beans, and making a big group trip back to Brown's for a big blueberry pick. Tuesday evening Amber and I took Julia, a girl who comes to help out on the farm every couple of weeks, to our newfound favorite swimming hole. Yet again, a gorgeous swim.

Easy like Sunday...

Because our first full day on the farm was Sunday, there wasn’t much work to do. The Covilles had to take two of their boys to circus camp (Noah is a mean unicyclist) and Jonathan and April and little Miss Miel went to Burlington for the day. Amber and I decided to put a couple hours in weeding, mostly the rows of carrots, and explore Craftsbury.
We went to Heartbeet Farm, a group home up the road for adults with disabilities. Heartbeet sits on a steep hill and has a very well-maintained garden, happy residents, and happy animals. (pigs, goats, cows)

We chatted with O’Deal, a young lady who helps run one of the houses on the property, and took a walk around the place.
After Heartbeet, we went to Brown’s, a very popular local spot for picking blueberries. Ok I must pause here and give due and proper respect to the Browns: These blueberries are A-MA-ZING. Sweet as sugar and the size of grapes. Six or seven blueberries are quite literally, a handful. The Browns encourage you to graze as you pick on the rolling hill behind their house. So needless to say, we didn’t leave there hungry.


After returning home, we went for a run up this huge hill across the street from the farm. The view from the top was totally worth all the effort. Then, Kris and Jonathan took us for a swim in this awesome reservoir out in the woods. Beautiful, clear water surrounded by peaceful forests. It was a great last errand before dinner

A Note on Photos...

We forgot to bring our camera chords (genius, I know), so the pictures may take a little while longer. We will work it out though...stay tuned!

The Wild Branch Valley Farm

The Wild Branch Valley Farm sits right on highway 14, Wild Branch Road, in the small town of Craftsbury, Vermont. Its 227 acres rest in a sprawling green valley that will literally take your breath away (Insert Berlin's "Top Gun" theme song here). The two-story white farmhouse, nearly 160 years old, faces the road as a welcoming face to its many visitors. The farm stand is next to the house in a red building filled with baskets of peas, summer squash, patty pans ("sassy patties")zucchini, and a wide variety of tomatoes. The stand is decorated with massive hanging baskets of purple and magenta petunias that are for sale as well. The refrigerators are filled with fresh eggs and beef from the cattle they raise here. The farm stand...it truly is what's for dinner.

Moving to the right of the house and the farmstand is the classically red barn, then the greenhouses. Even further down are the gardens; rows and rows of sunflowers, carrots, and the previously mentioned treats. Beyond the garden is the pasture where the sheep live. Kris Coville, among many other things, is also a master weaver. The farm's layout is not that kind of cookie cutter deal with everything separate and overly segregated. Although each area has its purpose, there is a very natural flow to the place. The farm is clearly the vessel for the community that thrives on it. The place itself is quiet, peaceful. And it's charm is only surpassed by the people who live here.

The Covilles, Kris and Glenn and their sons Joshua, Noah, and Micah were all there to greet us as we arrived. Kris gave us a tour of the place and introduced us to some of the other people that live here as well. Jonathan and April and their daughter Miel, a young family from Australia, are staying with the Covilles. The couple came and worked on the farm a few of years ago, and on their current visit to the US, Wild Branch was their first choice in places to visit again. There is a separate back section to the house that is an apartment for a young couple, Nate and Princess who had their first child, Norah, the day before we arrived. We have only caught one glimpse of the baby so far, but from what we can see, she is a beautiful, healthy little girl. On the gravel road that runs behind the house, down through the cow pastures, another couple, Paul and Karen live in a yert that they brought here to the farm. Also, each day there are different people that come and go to help on the farm. Some are friends coming to help out, some trying to learn about farming, some for trade, and some are Wwoofers like Amber and me. All in all, the community here has a sort of 'permaculture' of its own; everyone subscribing to the idea of give and take, living in true harmony. (Sounds so cheesy, but hey, it IS Vermont.)

After giving us a quick tour the Covilles went off to visit with friends, giving Amber and I time to pick a spot to set up camp, grab some dinner and get settled. As we moved down the gravel road, under the (very live) cattle fences, and across the creek (which would soon turn into a river on a very rainy night) we found our spot. We set the tent up in what Kris calls the 'moss garden', a soft area of ground covered in different green, white and red mosses. The terrain made for a perfect area to sleep and sit avoiding the tall grass. As we arranged our camping chairs and cooler in what we would call the 'livingroom', Amber and I took a break to enjoy the beauty around us. We looked forward to what the week ahead would bring.

A Stop Along the Way

Although we loved the city, we looked forward to our upcoming stay in Craftsbury, Vermont on the Wild Branch Valley Farm. Craftsbury is about a six hour dive from New York, eight with traffic, so we were very greatful to be able to camp on the Parker's land in Springfield, a good halfway point between the two.

As we turned off of our final exit on highway 91 North, two turns from our destination, I (Katy) had the bright idea of making our own way. "Hey that was Pleasant Valley Road right back there! Ya think we can just follow it all the way?" Is it appropriate to type "LOL" in a blog entry? Let's just say we learned to stick to the list of directions. After about seven u-turns two texts and one phone call, we eventually got back on track and, although a bit later than anticipated, arrived at our destination. Setting up the tent for the first time in the dark was surprisingly easy, and after the long drive, falling asleep was even easier.

The next day, Amber and I went for a walk and explored the land a bit before packing up to go. We drove to downtown Springfield, parked and walked around. The Springfield farmer's market happen to be going on so walked through to have a look. The popular items were maple syrup, blueberries, currants, and pottery. Amer and I really enjoyed our sample of currant juice with lime, slightly bitter, but bold and refreshing. From there, we drove up the road to the Springfield Co-Op to buy a few groceries (local sage cheddar, raspberries, bread, and a raspberry cream brownie...just in case). After one final stoop at Biben's hardware for a headlamp and propane, we were on our way to Craftsbury.

As we were heading north, a much appreciated tip from a friend (thanks Gil!) pointed us in the right direction of one of the coolest swimming holes ever near White River Junction. Although the water is only a couple feet deep, it rushes over the smooth stones and can knock you right over. Taking our time, we did a little creek stomping and enjoyed the beautiful vista that is Vermont. The swim was refreshing and the perfect last stop before the Wild Branch Valley Farm.

Pic: The middle is a shot of these awesome cascades in downtown Springfield. This used to be a shoe factory. Shoemaking, years ago, was one of Springfield's biggest industries.
The first is the Lower Bartonsville covered bridge bridge near the Parker's property.

NYC

Thanks to our wonderful hosts in NYC! It was wonderful to see friends and family. We enjoyed evenings on the rooftops of Brooklyn and Manhattan, running tours of Brooklyn, playing in a children's park and catching the subway at Grand Central Station. Shearwater is an excellent sail in the Hudson River with views of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty (thanks to the captain and crew!). The city was full of small gardens on rooftops, window boxes and in small fenced front yards. Ginko trees, lavender and lambsquarters grew along most streets as well. Sophia took us to a thriving community garden on our last day in the city. We learned that the subway is slow going at night and never to leave the city at 4:30 pm on a Friday (especially when you're low on fuel)!