Edible Pedal - Farm Food and Adventure.
Foggy ferry rides, misty dew mornings, highway peddling, vast stretches of farmland, and morning ginger chews. This weekend myself and three other adventure seeking friends packed 4 bicycles onto the back of a little sedan and drove northwest towards Port Townsend â camping for the night at a neat little spot on Wibey Island. While falling asleep on a rigidly flat surface, we listened to the sound of a fog horn off in the distance that made a soothing call consistently throughout the night. After what seemed like a small nap, all of us woke up to the 5am alarm clock on Saturday morning, packed up our tents, parked the car at the next ferry terminal, loaded our bikes with camping essentials and cycled onto the boat heading west towards Port Townsend.
While biking ten miles from the Port Townsend ferry terminal to the campsite, climbing steep hills and coasting down smooth declines, my excitement for the day seemed to course down through my inner thighs and exit my heels at each push of the pedal. As we approached our second campsite, the weight of the camping gear pulled us closer to the pavement. I swung my leg over my bike and as it dropped to the ground I shook off my pack and cherished that brief moment of lightness and was thankful for the dull aching relief in my shoulders.
Local guidance pointed us in the direction of a cozy restaurant called the Farm Stead. Our breakfast burritos and fried egg sandwiches, the eggs harvested from the chicken coop behind the restaurant, charged us with a food fueled liveliness that lasted throughout the day.We sipped our last drops of espresso and green tea, jumped back on the saddle of our rides and coasted down highway 19 towards a fiber farm. Ananda Hills Farm is home to a barnyard cat, rams, sheep, chickens, and a lazy white puff dog. The most incredible aspect of visiting this farm was witnessing all of the animals cohabitating a small plot of land. Chickens hopping in the sheep pen, the cat ruling the barn and glaring down the noisy hens, and the lazy dog soaking up the afternoon sun while hyper roosters pecked around him. We got to see big bowls of wool, handmade knitting projects, and talk with an herbalist about easing pain.
Back on highway 19, we shot off towards a cider farm. The map guided us onto a street called âEgg and I.â Although the name seems to predict a cute and simple road, it turned out to be one of the more arduous experiences of the trip. Extremely steep hills with very little relief and almost no shoulder on the side of the road, unfriendly for biking but very satisfying to slope down that final decline and return to flat road. Walking up the gravel dust path to Finn River Cider, we saw an adorable bed and breakfast, an interesting house with unique circular windows, and of course a large brewery that specializes in ciders. The four of us sat down for a tasting and enjoyed various types of hard cider including: pear, ginger, apple wine, blueberry brandy, hops cider (tasted similar to an IPA), and finally jalapeno cider. The woman leading the tasting referred to our group as expressing the same âsassâ as the jalapeno cider. Once the tasting was over, we clapped which surprised the group of tasters and we all learned that clapping is not ârefinedâ or âexpected.â
4:00pm circled around and we hopped back on our bikes and rode to the pig roast/vegetable roast hosted on the land beside the local farm stand in Chicamum, WA. The winding day of riding came to an end with a huge plate of roasted rosemary potatoes, yams, beets, and zucchini with a side of homebrewed brown honey ale that when all combined calmed the churning of our eager stomachs.The farm roast gave us a glimpse into the lives of the people who live in the small community-centered town of Chicamum. Little barefoot kids ran around in hand knitted wool sweaters and the local Bluegrass band played throughout the night. The greatest part was even though we were only in the town for 24 hours we recognized people from our journey and they recognized us. As the roast came to a close, I sat with my new found friend Margot under a canopy of bright stars and drank what we called our last summer ale of the season.
Sunday morning we awoke to the lingering moistness of dew on our sleeping bags and the uncomfortable clumps of greasy matted hair that appears after two days of adventuring. My first move was to chew on some incredible ginger candies and start taking down the tent. We headed towards our breakfast spot and ordered cream scrambled egg burritos and headed on our way to explore Port Townsend. A town that is filled with Victorian architecture, tiny coffee shops, unique bookstores, and a cool little old theatre. The town borders the water and a thin layer of fog hangs out right above the buildings. Youth walk down the street screaming songs of rebellion and older couples wander hand in hand talking about boats, books, and rain. This is truly a town where you come to escape for a cloud filled weekend of writing, coffee drinking, and antique shopping. I canât wait to come back!Â