Apple Picking 2008, Take 2

Allowing Rachel to use a tool with a long metal pole attached to it proved to be quite frightening for some of the smaller children...

Eliza

(no those aren't her jammies...I dressed her all in one vibrant color so I wouldn't lose her)

Yes, actually there were signs all over the place that requested people not climb the trees.
Why do you ask?


Caroline


I believe this is referred to as "sampling".

In the pumpkin patch.

Just is case there was ANY doubt as to who is REALLY in charge around here.

Since moving to the east coast 8 years ago, I have taken my kids apple picking every fall. When we lived in Philadelphia, I followed a bunch of wives of the 2nd year Wharton students out to the suburbs where I ran after Emma for 2 hours in an orchard with Rachel stuck onto the front of me in the Baby Bjorn. But, I was determined to have a tradition each fall with the kids and I wanted apple picking to be "it." So, the following year, I went back to the same orchard and chased Emma and Rachel around the orchard, only to come away with a 1/4 bushel of mediocre apples and enough mud on all of our shoes and clothes to satisfy a large hog.
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Moving to New York in 2002, I went apple picking that first fall with a group of women from the ward. They headed to a place called Barton Orchards. We had a great time that first year. We picked apples (just ok apples, but we had fun picking), rode ponies, took the hay ride, and ran the kids through the pumpkin patch. But after a few years of going to Barton every year, it started to get fairly commercialized: they were charging for parking and every little thing, apples weren't great, and the hour long drive wasn't feeling worth it as much anymore.

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So, in the fall of 2005, some friends suggested Silverman's up in Connecticut. I liked the fact that it didn't take quite as long to get to as Barton's. But, and this is a BIG but, they were already picked out when we got there, you had to cross a busy road to get to the petting zoo, they made you purchase a certain amount depending on your party size, and it was still a far cry from the experience I was looking forward to for my family.
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Thus, the following year, it was back to Barton's. But, the fall of 2007 found me upstate at our friend's cabin. Close by is a darling orchard that has a very noncommercial, family friendly feel to it. At Hick's Orchard, the kids picked apples, watched a cider press in action, watched as cider donuts were made, consumed a copious amount of fudge, pet and played with several derelict looking goats, and generally had a silly, fun day. Just what I wanted! The only problem, is that Hicks is a good 3.5 hours away -- really only a good option for us if we are going to be upstate at our friend's house.

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Yesterday was Yom Kippur. The kids were out of school, and it was a gorgeous 73 degrees and sunny. A good friend and I decided to take the kids apple picking and this time agreed to try a new orchard, one a friend from the village had recommended, Outhouse Orchards. Besides the really foolish name (not a great idea to combine delicious food with the thought of using an outhouse), Outhouse turned out to be a fun day. I liked that it is only about 30 minutes from my house -- straight up the interstate and not off on a bunch of winding roads that may or may not be well-marked. I liked that we got large, beautiful apples -- the best I've ever self-picked in the east. I liked that it wasn't as commercialized as some of the other places I've been to. The downside was that there was a fair amount of poison ivy, which we hopefully avoided -- or I've washed off. And, I didn't like the lack of direction as to where we should be picking. But, once we figured it out, I felt like we had a good day and that we came away with some nice produce and without having been robbed for the experience.
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But, in the end, I always come away from these u-pick places feeling like I'm a huge, dumb SUCKER! Maybe it's my father's agrarian background speaking to me, but it's really quite an interesting racket. Here I'm paying someone to "let me" harvest "their" crop -- and paying a premium for the crop. Do you suppose those people walk around chuckling at us all?