It’s Not Easy Being Green
The Challenges and Struggles of Farming
by Holly Madrigal
Some hold a romantic ideal of agricultural life—the pace of your day responding to the season, the pride and accomplishment of growing your food, of feeding your community. They imagine the satisfaction of a day well worked, rising with the sun, and living authentically. What may not be so obvious is the financial stress, the envy of things like a paid vacation, letting go of simple ideas like retirement or even home-ownership.
The average age of farmers in the United States remains stubbornly high, 60 years old, according to the USDA. Over the last five years, Mendocino County has lost numerous small farmers. Some have relocated to other states where land is cheaper, and others have left the agricultural field altogether. Farmers, eaters, and those who believe in the importance of a local food system are seeking solutions to keep farmers here and thriving.
What follows are some thoughts from local farmers—not necessarily answers to these problems, but areas of concern that would be helpful to address if we want to retain our farmers.
SUCCESSION
Dan Todd, Todd Organics
My parents and grandparents were farming in Southern California for many years until freeways and housing developments took over their orange groves. In the late 1950s, they bought adjoining cattle ranches in Potter Valley and planted pear trees, prune trees, and walnuts, in addition to raising cows. That’s where I grew up, on the farm helping out.
In 1977, the bank and I bought some of my dad’s pear orchards, and I began farming on my own. It’s very different when you are making all the farming decisions yourself instead of just doing what you are told needs to be done. In 1987, after a lot of research and talking to old timers who had farmed prior to our modern-day chemicals, I switched over some of our orchards to organic. I was very much an early adopter of organic farming.
I managed to make it work, and by 1992 we had transitioned all 70 acres of pears to certified organic, which possibly made us the largest organic pear grower in the United States. Our best pears went to the fresh market under our Todd Ranch label, and our processing pears went to baby food and juice. Earth’s Best was one of our main buyers.
My wife and I raised our three children on the farm. The saying was, every successful farmer in Potter Valley had a wife that worked in town, and we were no exception, as my wife was a nurse. And we had a good life. Much of our success was hard work, educated guesses, and some good fortune.
The Todd Family with Dan and Alice on the left, Andy and Sarah on the right, and (grand) kids in the middle
Rachel Britton
Our kids went off to college and started their careers. And I wanted that, I wanted them to make their own decisions about their lives. About 10 years ago, my eldest son Andy reached out. He and his wife and their twin boys had decided that they wanted to come home and farm with us. He wanted to raise his boys the way he was raised, with ponds, hills, and the freedom to roam. His wife Sarah was interested but uncertain about leaving Santa Rosa. They decided that it needed to work for everyone. The farm was successful enough to support one family, but the question was could it support two? Through a combination of a few good pear years, and after developing some good contracts for wine grapes, they were able to make it work. They sat down with the bank and, after reviewing the equity and other factors, they decided to do it.
Now we’ve been farming 160 acres together for a bit more than ten years. The farm has grown, and my grandkids can run between the houses. The challenge, of course, is that I have multiple children, and it is important that, when I think about the future, I think about how to pass on the farm to the next generation. What I learned through a succession planning seminar with American Ag Credit was that “fair is not equal, and equal is not fair.”
For estate planning purposes, the farming operation and the land both have value. What we now have is a result of the hard work we have both put in over the last ten years. Andy has a lot of “sweat equity” in the farm and will inherit the farming operation. The land will be equally divided between him and his siblings. I believe they all feel good about this direction. When people ask me how I’m doing, I tell them that I am working harder than I have ever worked, but I am enjoying it more than I ever have.
CAPITAL
Rachel Britton, Mendocino Grain Project
I acquired the Mendocino Grain Project in 2020. It is both a farm—we grow grain, quinoa, and other staple crops—and also a grain-processing business for us and other regional farmers. We work with farmers in Humboldt, Lake, and other small producers in Mendocino County. Our vision is to make dry goods available locally. I sometimes call dry goods the last frontier of the local food system.
I bought this business, which was started by Doug Mosel in 2009. Back then, the Anderson Valley Foodshed, the Willits Grange, and Willits Economic LocaLization group (WELL) had done a local food assessment and identified that one farm product we did not have any of in the county was dry goods. No one was growing oats, beans, quinoa, or wheat on a larger scale. So Doug embarked on this journey of rebuilding the infrastructure to make this happen. [Learn more about the Mendocino Grain Project in our Fall 2022 Word of Mouth article.]
Around 2020, I had been working with John Jeavons’ Ecology Action nonprofit for six years and was looking around for my next step. At that same time, Doug was looking for someone to take on the Grain Project. Well, what are the limitations there? For one, there is a huge financial limitation. What young farmer has $200,000 sitting around and thinks, “Yes, I would like to purchase all of this old farm equipment you have carefully restored.” I am in a unique situation where I lost both of my parents fairly young, and so I did have an inheritance to invest. It was a total hustle, but I was able to make it work.
But this is a huge issue for our farming community. There is a massive disconnect between the young people who have the energy and capacity to do the work, because most people do not have that level of capital. You can lease land to grow grain, but the equipment is expensive, as well as the additional processing required, like threshing and cleaning. Quinoa comes out of the field very bitter and needs to be washed. A critical mass of farmers who are growing dry goods are required to make this pencil out. We reach out and collaborate with as many people as we can to make it work.
The other key component is eaters. We need people who care enough about flavor and the importance of our local food system that they are willing to make those decisions in the marketplace. We have a CSA for our grains, which helps us because the payments are made upfront in the spring and help us through the fluctuations of cash flow throughout the year. And it’s flexible because we have learned that our customers are highly personal: some people eat oats every morning, some are gluten-free, and some never eat beans, so we have now made our subscription customizable.
One of the reasons I am so passionate about this work is that dry goods are calorie dense and storable; they don’t require refrigeration. I signed on the dotted line for this business in February of 2020. It was a wild time. And if you remember, people began baking en masse. And I was so green, I had just enough knowledge to be dangerous. Our sales from April to May grew 60-fold, which some might put in the category of “unsustainable growth.”
I grew up in a small community in Iowa, and I like to question my belief systems. And 2020 was such an educational year because I got to really think: Is local food actually more sustainable and more resilient? This experience was affirming because, for a time we were the only flour available on the Ukiah Coop shelves. We are hyper-localized. Even a small producer like Bob’s Red Mill serves a larger population and had to be rationed between stores. Our focus was getting local food on local shelves. And we are nimble in that we work with an educational nonprofit that works in Marin. I am only able to physically mill 100 pounds per day, but this nonprofit had the exact kind of mill that we used, so they were able to loan it to us so that we could double our production. So this collaboration saved us.
LAND
derived from multiple sources
A friend shared that often when farmers are just starting out, they are on a shoestring budget. That was true in his case. He and his partner were able to lease land quite affordably when they started just out of college. The challenge with that model is that, like with any rental, all the blood, sweat, and tears invested could be lost if the property gets sold or if you have to vacate. Renters do not get to keep the equity if the owners decide to move on. This can add to the already stressful lifestyle of a farmer.
According to my friend, there are ways to mitigate the risks. Finding an aging rancher or farmer who may be considering retirement, and who will let you learn on the land without the risks of ownership, is one strategy. This will allow the tenant farmers to glean valuable information that will be useful for when they are able to buy their own property. Without the burden of paying a mortgage, a farmer might be able to invest in the development of mobile infrastructure, which could go with them if they have to move.
Another couple that left when farming became unsustainable for them commented that Mendocino County is located just outside of the sweet spot: ideally within a one-hour drive of a city of more than 100,000, as suggested by farming leaders like Joel Salitin. Santa Rosa qualifies, but it is hard for Mendocino County farmers to compete with the climate and access to flat fertile land that Sonoma County farms have. Local farms here typically do not grow on a larger scale to sell to restaurants and grocery stores. Though the farmers markets can provide a decent income, they represent a fairly small portion of the eaters in Mendocino County. Groups like the MendoLake Food Hub have been seeking to bridge this gap by consolidating the production and distribution power of small farms.
Our planning bureaucracy is also a barrier to small producers. It’s not a simple thing to build a roadside farmstand or hoop house that could improve a farm’s economic outlook. The permitting process can stymie the most diligent citizen. Drought has brought several local farms to their knees, and the investment required to address that issue is significant.
The challenges facing those who grow food are serious. And we as a culture need to prioritize lowering those barriers if we want local food security. Groups do exist: The Greenhorns provide a professional resource to young farmers seeking to make a go of it, and FarmLink connects retiring farmers with young people looking for land. We need to demand that our local elected officials enact policies to reduce barriers to making small farm improvements. And finally, as those who eat food and support local agriculture, we need to use our buying power to support our neighborhood farmers. The saying goes, use it or lose it. I think, in this case, it is support it or it may soon be gone. I extend a deep appreciation and thank you to those who remain.