On the Cherry Bus

We stepped on the bus at 7:35 in the morning, lattes in hand and cameras in tow. Emma and I had been talking about this cherry trip for weeks, what we hoped we'd see, what we wanted to taste, and how many pounds we wished we'd bring home. We'd had an agenda before we arrived, and it was simple: go to an orchard, have lunch, do a little wine tasting, and visit a fruit packing plant. I figured I might even have time to catch a little nap or do some writing and brainstorming on the ride over. Wrong.

The first, and possibly biggest surprise was Lisa. When we bounded on the bus, she was the only other person on, and immediately she voiced, 'I think I know you' to Emma. After about 10 very fast seconds, we three realized that Lisa's mom Ginger had gone to pastry school with us, and we'd lost touch over the years. Like sisters reuniting, we called Ginger immediately, laughing and sharing the moment, and we spent the rest of the trip catching up.

But the surprises kept coming in how the bus filled out. There was a rat-a-tat-tat of hellos and ohmygoshes and itssogoodtoseeyous to folks I knew from other events, parties, or from Twitter (yes, I've met plenty of folks in person who I first knew from Twitter). It was a great crew, the bus buzzing with laughter and conversation from the moment we pulled away from downtown Seattle. James Michael, from the Washington State Fruit Commission, would be our guide on the day's journey.

The team at Wilson PR started the morning right with a raffle for a Flip camera and cherry mimosas (Emma won the camera!), but to be honest, we were well past Ellensburg before I realized we were getting close to Yakima where we'd spend the day.

Our first stop was at the Sage Fruit Packing Plant. We walked the life of a cherry in that plant - everything but its growing and picking. From loading to sorting to washing to picking, sizing, packing and inspecting, most of it done by hand. The entire process takes less than an hour, and cherries we saw on the way in were already packed and ready for shipment to places like Taiwan, Japan, and China when we walked out. We examined everything, but it was the faces of the folks on the floor I watched most. Like visiting a foreign country, they smiled and laughed and wondered why we were taking so many pictures of this humble work. And it was work. Picking and sorting, standing quietly for 10 hours. Work many of us will never have to do.

While at Sage, we picked up a cherry grower who'd been our guide through the plant. Mark was joining us for the trip to Prosser where we'd visit the Chinook Winery and have a bite to eat. On the drive we continued our discussions about the cherry industry, how breeding programs have introduced varieties like Chelans and Rainiers, and where the market's headed. He wants everyone to think about cherries the way we think about salmon, or maybe even wine grapes. We know there are different varieties, and we prize higher quality strains for their taste, texture, and rarity. But go to a grocery store and we really see cherries in two, maybe three ways: sour or sweet (which may be broken up into Bing and Rainier here in the NW). Imagine a day when you can select a specific variety of Bing cherries for its vibrant color, or thicker skin, or perfect heart shape. If apple growers have found a niche for their heirloom varieties, why not cherry ranchers?

The bus pulled up to a bucolic scene: flowering trees, quail running through the garden, a happy golden retriever named Copper (Valentina Vitols took this great picture of us to the left!) and the welcome of Kay Simon, Chinook's winemaker. And then there was something else, something that made me stick my nose in the air. Tortillas. Like the rest of hungry bunch, I bounded through the gate to the yard where we found Aaron and his brothers setting up lunch. Tables were set with just-fried chips and three salsas: roasted vegetable, cherry pico de gallo, and my favorite, the asparagus guacamole (without a single avocado). James' wife had made cherry tea, and we had refreshing (and non-alcoholic) cherry mint mojitos to accompany our Chinook Cabernet Franc Rose. And that was just the start. The Guerra brothers had made a knock-out gluten-free and casein-free lunch of pork tacos and grilled asparagus to go with the chips we devoured, and the whole happy meal was complete with a slice of GF cherry pie. Three complete hours of bliss, eating cherries from the trees, snacking, drinking, laughing and talking. I think most of us would have been happy to simply lay down and sleep the rest of the day.

Instead, Mark got us off our behinds and walked us through his 100+ acre cherry ranch. It wasn't like we hadn't eaten enough, or that we really had any room to eat more, but he told us as we got off the bus that we could eat as much as we wanted. Most enthusiastically indulged, picking cherries hither and yon from every variety with a story. Cameras clicked incessantly, the sun providing perfect light. Mark passionately talked us through the thrills of victory and agonies of defeat in raising cherries, from the splitting 'crack whore' varieties that pop at the slightest precipitation, to his dream of raising the perfect heart-shaped cherry. Most of the varieties we saw were dark sweets, what we'd typically call Bing cherries, but with names like Santina and Tieton. My favories were the Kionas, giant golf ball sized fatties, juicy and super dark. I filled a bag with 3lbs to bring home.

Our ride home was subdued, though we did polish off a few bottles of a local dry Riesling and some more GF snacks to the sounds of cherry-themed music. Aaron had packed all the leftover chips and sauce for us, and along with a bottle of Chinook rose, everyone got a case of cherries apiece and jars of sweet Chukar cherries too. I was bursting by the time we crawled off the bus at 8:15 that night, slightly sunburned but eager to wake the next day for the beginning of a 20lb cherry challenge.

Gracious thanks to the folks at Wilson PR - Tamara, Tanna, Heidi, Sarah, and Andrea as well as to James Michael, Mark (whose name I missed, but whose cherries I'll be eating for months), Kay and Clay (and the next generation of winemakers) at Chinook, the entire team at Sage Fruit Packing, and team Guerra, who knocked it out of the park. If I've forgotten anyone, I apologize sincerely, and will only make the excuse that I sunned, ate, and drank too much to remember details any better.  

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