Cider Press

Every Autumn we make our way to Rocky Creek Farm to pick apples and pumpkins.  I decided not to do pumpkins this year, but I couldn't pass on the apples!  C invited her roommates to tag along with us and they wholeheartedly accepted.  The morning started off so warm that we didn't really need jackets, but by the end of our time there we sure were happy we had them.

October is a fickle month in Bozeman.  Winds, snow, sunshine, and and rain can happen all within an hour's span of time.  This October's early snowfall made the remaining apples fall as well so, there was nothing to pick.  :(  What we did do was press our own cider!

We chose from bins of Jonagolds, Jonathans, and Romes.  Steph made a comment about not wanting to choose ones with worms, C was trying to find 'pretty ones' - but here's the thing, when you aren't doing anything with them but pressing cider, none of that matters.  In fact the over ripe, bruised and worm-eaten are the only ones we pressed on the ranch growing up.  They make the best cider! Honest! This was no exception!

We tasted it right as it came out of the press, before we ever bottled it up - perfect balance of tart and sweet.  That wonderful hazed carmel color.  Foamy.  Sticky.  Heaven!  Larissa found a very cold, slow, docile yellow jacket to sip some nectar from her thumbnail.  She is too cute for words!

After we bottled we walked around the farm.  I fed the pigs some apple scrap mush.  They were ever so thankful and went back to rooting happily when it was gone.

The only goats this year were babies.  Sweet little fellas.  We could have stayed to watch their antics and scratch behind their ears a bit longer, but the wind was picking up.

It was time for a few memory shots and pay for our cider and head home.

We did stop @ our favorite coffee shop on the way though!  The warmth and scent that greeted us was aWe-soMe!
I've definitely got the autumn bug now.  The geese were flying south this morning as the sun rose.  The cattails have puffed.  The chill is almost constant and I can smell wood smoke from chimneys when I let cricket out in the mornings.  I think I'll freeze a half gallon of the cider for our Wassail tradition @ Thanksgiving. The anticipation will make it sweeter, I'm sure.
Have your autumn activities begun?