Can small-scale farming save rural America?

(Note: A version of this article originally appeared in the February 24, 2023, issue of the Pine Knot newspaper and is being republished with their permission.)

The snow began just outside of Madison, Wisconsin. We had been driving north for days, watching the landscape change from green to brown until the world looked like an old black and white photo.

And then it was as though we entered a snowglobe. The landscape was blanketed in white. Ahead, a string of brakelights snaked around the curve. 

The road was encrusted in ice. There had been a crash, and the Interstate was closed in both directions. We took a detour that wound through hilly Wisconsin farmland.

After more than four weeks of traveling, it was time to return home. As farmers, we don’t get too many vacation days in the summer, so Heather-Marie and I had decided to take a holiday/honeymoon over the Christmas break, using our delivery van as a camper.

We explored the Gulf and Atlantic coasts of the Southeast, choosing the back roads when we could and changing course when we saw something that looked interesting.

While unseasonably cold, the trip had been all we’d hoped it would be. We saw more than 100 species of birds. We swam with manatees in Crystal River, Florida. And we spent three days on Cumberland Island, an undeveloped, unspoiled barrier island off the coast of Georgia. 

While we had been gone, northern Minnesota had been pummeled with snow. Storm after storm had swept across the farm. The power had gone out for a few days. A neighbor with a bulldozer had come in to clear the snow out of our driveway. Snowdrifts had built halfway up the windows on one side of the barn. 

In Florida, it had been citrus season. Along the southern stretches of the Mississippi River, it was time to harvest sweet potatoes. We had dined on whatever was in season wherever we were. 

A few days after getting home, we sat on the floor of our office with our notebooks and planning materials strewn about. Before us was a 4-foot by 6-foot whiteboard with three columns of notes: What were our successes? What were our failures? What would this season look like?

By every measure, last year had been one of the most successful Rising Phoenix Community Farm had ever enjoyed. We sold out of CSA shares. We’d received several grants to support more investment in the farm’s operations.

While the obstacles to running a small vegetable farm anywhere in the United States are many; in Minnesota, there is little room for error. 

While we had been gone, a fellow farmer had texted us. She had looked up average frost dates and found that, in our region, farmers have just over a third of the year to plant and grow their seeds. Where our farm is located, she told us, we had 133 growing days between our last and first average frost dates. 

We start our seeds in the greenhouse while there is still snow on the ground. By midsummer, days can be scorchingly hot while the number of rainy days can be scarce. When the rain does come, we often find ourselves staring at the radar on our phones, hoping the bright, pink blobs indicating severe weather pass north or south of us.

In late fall, we scramble to harvest, plant cover crops and tend to the soil before the ground freezes solid. 

Last season, a farmer we respect immensely decided the farming lifestyle wasn’t for him. After years of running one of the more successful, small-scale farms in the region, he decided that he wasn’t going to do it any more. We were stunned. 

A few weeks later, we got an email from another farmer. She, too, was done. Her body just would not allow her to do this kind of work anymore.

The loss of these two farms is a reminder of what small-scale farming is up against.

In his book, “Farming for the Long Haul,” author Michael Foley traces the history of agriculture in the United States, documenting how farmers were lured into thinking that bigger was better. To be successful, farmers were told they needed to invest in larger equipment and farm as many acres as possible using chemically derived pesticides and fertilizers. 

The transition away from small-scale farming had a profound effect on rural communities, he wrote: “In the countryside, not only have we lost most of our farmers, but we have lost the butchers, millers, bakers, and grocers who provided primary processing and retail services to farmers and small town dwellers alike.”

Foley believes farming on a smaller scale can be successful, but that success shouldn’t be measured solely in terms of profit and income. 

Farming is first of all about subsistence; simply put, a farm can provide a family with much of what they need. Even in Minnesota, where the growing season is short, our freezer is filled with soups and sauces. Our shelves contain preserved and pickled vegetables. Our root cellar is stocked with potatoes, onions, beets, carrots, sauerkraut and kimchi.

In our few short years at our farm, we have learned that there are many others in our community who see the value of small farms and locally produced food.

At our Friday afternoon farmstands in the summer, we have begun to attract a long list of regulars we know by name. At our last farm stand of the season, our customers came and stocked up on winter squash, garlic, pumpkins, potatoes and onions and sadly said goodbye. See you next season, we said. 

A couple of Sundays after returning home, we took a day off. We switched our cell phones to “do not disturb.” We sat on the couch with extra blankets. We looked out our windows and watched the birds come and go at our feeders. It was another gray day outside, with a strong wind blowing. Aside from the sounds of birds, it was utterly quiet. 

We read. We drank tea. We napped. 

There was no need to go anywhere. 

John Hatcher and his wife, Heather-Marie Bloom, operate Rising Phoenix Community Farm outside of Barnum. It’s a CSA farm. Contact John at [email protected] or visit the farm webpage: https://www.risingphoenixcommunityfarm.com