FINNRIVER FARM & CIDERY JOURNAL

More than 16,600 pounds of material was diverted from the waste stream: 167+ pounds of natural corks were gathered for recycling through a program called ReCORK . 47+ pounds of synthetic, composite and T-corks were diverted for upcycling in crafting activities at the Cider Garden 807+ pounds of cider bottle label liners were gathered for recycling thanks to our partners in sustainability, Trysk Print Solutions in Seattle. 23,498+ pounds of mixed food waste and cider pressing waste were redirected to our compost. The compost is located onsite and then used to nourish our organic orchard. Over 229 pounds of food rescued – Food rescue volunteers deliver to Port Townsend Food Bank. Rescued food is also shared with Finnriver crew. 868 pounds of bottle label liners were recycled 20 pounds of rubber gloves and safety gear were recycled 163+ pounds of small metals, including bottle caps, cages, bottle foil and lids were recycled. 37+ pounds of Styrofoam and polystyrene were recycled 8+ pounds of alkaline batters collected for recycling Did you know? Finnriver became a Certified B Corp in 2015, which verifies a business is meeting high standards of performance, accountability, and transparency on social and environmental commitments. B Corps join a "global movement for an inclusive, equitable, and regenerative economy."

"The kind of wood matters," says Finnriver Cidermaker Chris, highlighting the importance of choosing the right barrels to complement the flavor profile of the cider.

 Photo taken at sunrise from Chimacum Ridge by Kerry Tremain. This photo is on the label of Finnriver’s Chimacum Ridge Toasted Fir Cider, a celebration of the Chimacum Ridge Community Forest which rises to the south of Finnriver’s organicorchard

Amanda Oborne joins the B-Corp farm and cidery full-time as of April 2024

We recommend bringing your bicycle to expand your options for getting around.

The shorter days of December are still full on the farm but the rising and setting of the sun is not always obvious as we move through gradations of grey. There is a bountiful wintry beauty here — deepening green in the fields, bright huddles of swans, sinewy silhouettes of leafless trees revealed — a beauty I experience in questioning contrast with its opposite and what I know of the horrors happening around the world. What it means to hear the rain fall and wonder what it must be like to hear a bomb fall? How I hold in my heart both the momentary beauty and the undergirding grief? Where my outrage or agony belongs? Where my complicity and responsibility lie? How I establish solidarity with ways of thinking, acting and being that are honorable and humane, actively compassionate, deeply reverent of life and wise for the world? All of that I want to do, with consciousness and care! And yet often I am surprised when the day is over and the darkness drops down— with a feeling of, “Wait, where did this whole day go?” That not only did I fail to figure out how to understand or help relieve the suffering of the world, but I didn’t even start the laundry. So I see the winter as a teacher of the art of witnessing — of sensing what is revealed when the leaves and the distractions and the delusions fall away, what is exposed, what is revealed underneath, what do I need to feel, reckon with and transform through these thoughtful winter months. A good part of my own initial inspiration around Finnriver’s founding were these questions— could we offer a place where people feel welcomed and invited into earthly wonder, where they feel connected to their own bodies as they stand on the land and drink in its beauty, where we could gather together in real time to walk, talk, listen, dance, eat, drink, breathe? And could we gather this sense of the land and its bounty into a bottle to share with others— connecting us intimately from soil to cider to our interconnected selves? And could any or all of this bring more communal and personal coherence to the experience of being human and would that be a beneficial ripple? That’s a lot to expect from an apple orchard or a glass of cider, I know. But that’s what we continue to work on creating here…knowing that we are but a small piece in a big planetary puzzle but knowing also that it takes all the pieces to make a whole. That we are bumbly, humbly linked elbows with all the others— millions! billions!— a great human family of brave, brilliant, beautiful people everywhere who are doing essential work each day to survive, to carry on, to care for others, to grow community, to establish peace, to live with dignity, to insist on liberation, to love the pieces of it all that they do, in peace. This season, these times, call me to recognize how each precious minute of daylight, each precious breath of this wet or windy winter air, is a potential return to my body and to my beating heart as one in a global gamelan of heartbeats all around me. I’m working for a piece of the peace here in Chimacum and swaying, praying hard that we learn to cradle instead of crush each other. Thank you to all of you activating, in all the myriad different ways, to show up for the big Love! I hope you are all finding the way and keeping well as can be through the winter. I hope that if you make your way to Finnriver, or if a bottle of Finnriver makes it way to you, that you can steep in the moment. With heaping care and a full heart from the farm, Crystie

Sour Raspberry: A Limited Edition New Release

Chimacum Corner Farmstand owner Katy McCoy reminisces about the origins of Chimacum Interdependence Day in 2011.