When you lose sight of your why

 

Vineyard Sentinels in Late Winter

Over the last few years I’ve lost the why to the farm. For over a decade, the farm has been an ever-present source of motivation, but recent experiences have dulled that. With 2024 now behind me, I must find the discipline and drive to again push the farm in the direction I originally intended. Many people have asked for advice on doing what I set out to prove with the farm. Almost all of them have gone by the wayside. I however am still on that quest.

 

As many of you know, in 2023 & 2024 I was called upon to help my mom as she was suffering from ALS. That took most of my focus. And, not knowing when the situation would change, I decided it was best to tell myself not to think about the farm and its future. It was tough, but I managed to do that for all of 2024 – even after I returned to the farm. Recent events have pulled me back to my goals for the farm. A few days ago, I received a package from the National Germplasm Repository in Geneva, NY. You guessed it, cuttings from grapevine varieties that I don’t have. Nine carefully researched varieties and wild selections that exhibit a very early start to veraison. While I may already have a vine that (at some point in the future) will work, it never hurts to expand your potential sources. I suspect at least one of the nine will be a nice addition to our current holdings. 

 

Then this morning I received a call from someone visiting the area from Connecticut asking if I did wine tastings at the winery. Well, umm…not really? Way back in 2009 or so, when I set up the farm on Google My Business, I chose to categorize it as a farm store. A few years later, Google suggested that it be classified as a winery. Not thinking that anyone would take that seriously here in the far north, I just accepted the recommendation. Actually, I tried to change it back, but apparently never saved the change. Bottom line is that to this day, it is still advertised as a winery. I do get calls. Some people come out for a visit (when the road is passable in the summer). To be honest, I’ve felt a bit disingenuous at times about the category, but overall most are actually just interested in the fact that I make wine from berries (as you know, no grapes yet) that actually grow here. Still, there are some that think wineries should only carry grape wine (and for the snootiest ones, only grapes that grow in Europe or California). While I am still waiting for the day I make wine from Gewürztraminer (off-dry and spicy as all get-out), I question whether estate wine (wine made only from grapes that grow on the farm) will come from European cultivars during my lifetime. And before you laugh, remember that I have a 5-or-so year old Gewürztraminer vine that has overwintered outside in a pot (dug into the ground, of course) for the entire time. The one and only Vitis vinifera to survive that long here. It is not grafted (no need, as I don’t think phylloxera will survive here – I’ve certainly brought in vines that could have had it) and I hope to propagate it this year.

 

As anyone whose followed this blog for some time knows, challenges to grape growing abound here in Interior Alaska. But, I remain undeterred in my efforts to find a cultivar that will produce grapes (with a high preference for wine grapes) in these conditions. It may be Baltica or ES 9-7-48 or ??? While not Vitis vinifera, the wine would still allow me to position the farm as the farthest north outdoor commercial vineyard in the world. Anyone can grow them in a greenhouse, but it takes all the stars aligning to actually accomplish that outdoors where they are unprotected at 65 degrees north latitude.

 

And finally, I used to listen to the gurus that said to follow your passion. You’ll be happy (and in most cases broke). My passion is quite expensive, it turns out. So, the new chapter in my life will be rebuilding my why, so I can focus on earning the money and becoming the person who is blessed with the task of following the passion that I’ve developed. The real challenge is breaking out of my comfort zone – a dirty job but someone has to do it. And that someone is me.

That said, I also need to get this out: I’ve actually been working on a podcast (“Frontier Vino”) off and on for a few years now and 2025 will be the year of its launch. Keep an eye out here for updates (or better yet, become a subscriber to the blog). Or visit the farm website to find our other social links: https://solitudespringsfarm.com

Changes coming in 2025!

 

December 29th: Denali after sunset

With 2024 almost a distant memory, we consider all of the changes that took place…and continue to take place on the farm.

2024 started off with Duke and I away from the farm, taking care of my mother, who had been diagnosed with ALS. Thanks to my ability to work pretty much anywhere, I was able to spend her last 7 month with her. It was a challenging time to say the least, but resulted in significant personal growth. I was able to make a couple of trips back to check on everything – and everything seemed to take my absence just fine. Mom passed away in late May and Duke and I returned to the farm in mid-July. While that meant we missed spring, the annual plant sale, and the opportunity to plant sunflowers for our summer bouquet customers, the slower pace allowed me to reassess my current physical and financial status. Both were in dire need of improvement! Suffice it to say, there won’t be any more annual plant sales. Although Chica and I enjoyed the opportunity to connect with fellow gardeners, the amount of time that was required to tend to the seedlings, move plants outside and then back inside while hardening them off, advertise, and then run the plant sale was never really economical. We will also be downsizing the flower production this year, to allow our focus to shift for the time being. Last summer, we saw bumper crops of delphinium and campanula. We had successfully overwintered sweet William, feverfew, and rudbeckia, as well – right through the -43F/-41C mid-winter low. That gave us hope for not having to plant everything in the spring, like we have in years past. Elsewhere on the farm, alder and willow are taking over. There will be much time spent on mowing this next summer to reclaim productive land.

2024 was also a year of major change in financial planning. Mom and I spent time talking about concerns, and one thing that bothered me in her final days was that we couldn’t fulfill her last wishes, because of time and financial limitations. On that final day in May, I made a promise to change all that as quickly as possible. Significant changes took place at the end of 2024 that promise great things to come in 2025. Stay tuned.

No blog entry would be complete without at least a word on the vineyard. The vineyard presented a very different picture in 2024 than ever before. The summer was cool and rainy (a good thing, since we weren’t here to melt snow for water storage). Many varieties and wild selections that had done well in warmer years really struggled in 2024. We still had a few standouts, though! Baltica was not among them, unfortunately. We will try manipulating its physical environment some in 2025, but it may turn out that the earliest grape in the world is not fond of life at 65N. To our surprise, one of the best performing vines was Gewürztraminer – I know, right? It was the most vigorous and it even survived the cold of mid-winter (at least the part that was near the ground). We won’t know how well it or the other 7 well-performing vines did until buds start appearing in May. Fingers crossed.

2025 promises to be a challenging year in many respects – including a new career. We are hopeful that there will be enough time in the day (even here where summer days never end) to run the farm and build the career. We will be documenting through social media, so keep an eye out. Aaron Stierle on FB. @aaronstierle on IG, Solitude Springs Farm & Vineyard on FB and YT, and a new (well not new, but never really used in the past) YT channel focusing more on personal development.