Keep it fun
I have lunch with some retired or almost-retired apple growers at the local pub once a week. Each of them farmed here in Summerland since before I was born and have seen it all. New, exciting varieties (Jonagold! No, tear those out, Gala! Nay, Ambrosia!) come and go like fads in fashion. They have heard boosters for the industry promise huge returns to farmers only to disappear when it came time to pay. They have seen trees ripped out, condos built, vineyards planted where apples once grew. Through it all they largely tuned out the noise, and quietly followed the trees though the seasons, pruning, thinning, harvesting. There are few situations they haven't encountered, from floods, to pests, to frosts, to heat waves. Some years were better than others, but there was always enough. None of them regrets the life they chose.
A couple of them also helped start the craft cider industry in BC, taking their hobby professional and planting some of the first true English and French cider apples in the Okanagan. My first introduction to cider was sitting with them under a tree in 2013 when I was home visiting my parents for Thanksgiving, tasting their cider and trying to determine if I had what it took to do what they did. Later I helped them juice on their giant old rack and cloth press in exchange for a few carboys of real juice to experiment with. The results of these experiments were what convinced Luke, Robbie and I to start Dominion. I owe those old farmers a lot.
They have all since largely moved on from the cider and apple industry. But they still grill me with good questions when I see them and challenge me on the ideas I have. When they think an idea is a dumb one they don’t sugarcoat it. I appreciate that. It's like a board of directors meeting weekly except our boardroom table has menus and salt and pepper shakers.
One of the wisest things one of them told me and I have always tried to remember is, “keep it fun.” In this former cidermaker’s mind, when they tried to grow their company too fast the amount of effort became too great and it began to feel more like a poorly paid job than an exciting shared endeavour. Once that happened, it was hard to recover.
When I asked him about what his favourite memories of his time as a part of a cidery were, he told me it was in the early days when the scale was small and they pressed all the apples themselves on that old press, blaring 70’s rock and barbecuing sausages for lunch. The best times were when friends and family would drop in for a few hours to help and share a laugh and have a few ciders in the fall sun after the day's work was done.
As we finished our lunch he looked me in the eye and said, “If you're not making money, the business doesn’t make sense. But even if you are, if it’s not fun and interesting then it doesn't make a lot of sense either.”
It's a tricky balancing act to navigate, and a high bar. Even the best jobs have days of drudgery and it can be hard to keep the excitement at the beginning going as the business matures. Here at Dominion we’re still feeling our way through. And though we have yet to get it running, last year I bought that old press and brought it home.
Until next time.