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Towards greener pastures

Towards greener pastures

May 31, 2013 | 12:00 AM

Sisters Hannah and Holly Johnson are seen in the background of the vegetable garden on the farm in Laton.By Robert RodriguezSisters Hannah and Holly Johnson didn’t plan on being farmers, at least not now.More than a year ago, Hannah was consumed with her marketing career and Holly was fulfilling some wanderlust, travelling across the US in her Chevy truck.But life threw them a curve and the Johnsons’ lives veered in a new direction when they relocated to Laton, California, to care for their ailing 84-year-old father and his 50-acre alfalfa farm.The fact that neither knew anything about growing alfalfa — or even had an inkling that they would add “farm fresh egg producers” to their resumes — didn’t faze them.Then again, nothing seems to faze these close-knit sisters.Over the last year, they have dealt with broken farm equipment, wind-damaged crops and sleepless nights, waking every four hours to water the fields. Today, the alfalfa farm is supplying feed for area dairy farmers and their River Roots egg operation — which began as a whim — is quickly gaining followers. The brown-shelled farm fresh eggs are sold under the cheeky “Just Got Laid” label.“They are doing a heck of a job farming and taking care of me,” said Bob Johnson, a longtime alfalfa farmer and father of Holly, 22, and Hannah, 25. “I could not be more proud of them.”The Johnsons make no bones about being rookie farmers or having been raised in Fresno. But they also aren’t completely lacking in a farming pedigree. Growing up, they lived with their mother in the city during the week and spent time with their father in Laton on most weekends.Trips to the farm were anything but boring for two precocious city girls. The ranch borders the Kings River. The thick brush and wild berry bushes created plenty of hiding places and room for forts.When they were kids, their dad gave them each their own golf cart, mounting wood blocks on the pedals so they could drive them. Holly spray painted hers to look like a cow and named it Bessie.“I think we crashed those carts at least once a week,” Hannah said.It was the love of that farm, and their father’s health, that drove the sisters to Laton, even if it wasn’t what they planned.Holly, a free spirit, was two months into a cross-country journey when her father became ill from an infected black widow bite. Although she had worked two jobs to raise money to pay for the trip, she drove straight to Laton after she got the news. “I looked like death getting out of that truck,” she said. “But I unpacked, looked around and took a deep breath.”Holly moved into a tiny one-bedroom guest house on the farm. Resourceful by nature, she spent the first few weeks making the house livable. She could swing a hammer — but she knew very little about alfalfa farming.A family friend and neighbours helped her plant her first field of alfalfa. But she was responsible for the rest, including the sleep-depriving, around-the-clock irrigation schedule.Nothing seemed easy. Much of the farm equipment was in need of repair.“Pipes, tools, tractors weren’t working,” Holly recalls. “Everything was breaking.”But Holly, along with Hannah’s support, made do with what she had. Six months after Holly moved to the ranch, Hannah left her apartment in Fresno and joined her sister, sharing the small ranch house.“I knew Holly needed help, and I needed a break from living in the city,” Hannah said. “I was working like a psychotic person, way too many hours, and I just needed some space.”Hannah kept her city job, but took care of the household, including cleaning and cooking dinner for Holly.“She is like the wife and does all the things I am too tired to do,” Holly said.The two sisters spent many nights sitting on their patio with its mismatched chairs and rustic farm table. They talked about the future and doing more with the farm.Soon, the talk turned to farm animals and before Hannah knew it, Holly bought eight chickens off of Craigslist, naming them after the cast of the television show “Friends”, and Willie Nelson.Holly built a coop out of scrap wood and pallets they found laying around the ranch. “This is what we do, we make snap decisions and jump in with both feet,” Hannah says with a laugh. “We didn’t know anything about raising chickens. At first, we used to take our Frosted Flakes and watermelon and throw it out there to feed them. And then Holly got totally involved in it.”The younger sister bought books and spent hours on Google researching how to raise chickens, including what to feed them. Hannah jokingly began to call her the “Freaky Chicken Lady.”As soon as friends and family found out that they were raising chickens, the requests for eggs came pouring in.“And then it hit us, we can totally sell these,” Hannah said.Relying on Hannah’s expertise — she is the marketing manager for Ronald McDonald House Charities of the Central Valley — the two sisters came up with a logo, a brand name and launched a website (riverroots.net) along with Facebook, Twitter and Instagram pages.Within a few weeks, they had nearly 500 likes on Facebook. They also boosted the number of egg layers to nearly 70 chickens.“We know there are people out there who can appreciate what we are doing,” Holly said. “To me, the next best thing to growing it yourself is knowing who did.”Small farm experts say operations like River Roots are succeeding, in part, because their story resonates with consumers who want to know as much as they can about who makes their food. “The timing is right for operators who can make a connection with consumers,” said Shermain Hardesty, director of the University of California Small Farm Program. “People will support that.”This spring, River Roots got its egg handlers licence from the state, allowing the sisters to sell their eggs.They are now selling at Fresno Brewing Co, and starting June 1, the eggs will be available at Kristina’s Natural Ranch Market,  and at the store’s farmers market on the second and last Saturday of the month.Jim Belcher, owner of Kristina’s market, said that after talking with the Johnsons he didn’t hesitate to offer their eggs.“I try really hard to support local producers and they have a really good product,” Belcher said. “These are fresh eggs, not ones that have been sitting a month in a warehouse.”Customers say that even though the eggs cost more than those in the grocery store — $5 compared to about $2 a dozen — they are worth every penny.“They write the date the eggs were laid right on the carton and the ones I got were literally laid that morning,” said Katie Blunt of Fresno. “To me, that really makes a difference.”This summer, the Johnsons will sell heirloom tomatoes, herbs and sweet peppers. They planted more than 200 plants, but many were wiped out by a recent wind storm. Mother Nature can be cruel to farmers.Still, despite the uncertainties and long hours, the sisters have no doubt that they have made the right decision. “There are days when it seems things can’t get any worse,” Hannah said. “But then you realise you can’t control everything. And that in the end things will be OK.”Even on the toughest days, Holly doesn’t have a desire to put on mascara or high heels for a job. “I don’t know how Hannah does it. On most days I look like Kid Rock,” Holly said. “The idea of putting on real clothes and being super fancy and talking to people normally, I just can’t imagine that. Instead, I wear my bathing suit everyday and talk with chickens. It is a pretty cool job.” — The Fresno Bee/MCT

* The sisters bought eight chickens off of Craigslist, naming them after the cast of the television show ‘Friends’, and Willie Nelson.

May 31, 2013 | 12:00 AM