Agriculture Reference
In-Depth Information
scattered every seven or eight miles along the railroad tracks that run up and down the
valley's spine.
Back in the 1890s, when agriculture was just starting in the area, that was about as far
as a farmer could carry his crop, sell it and still get home in a day. Today the railroads
have been replaced by almost impossibly straight highways. Scattered along the side of
the road, among the vineyards and orchards, are 1960s brick ranch-style ramblers, along
with the occasional Nouvelle Colonial stucco mansion. Here and there you can spot old
plains-style farmhouses, some of them quite grand, given away by the telltale "tank house"
out back that was originally used for storing water for household use.
Fruit packing sheds dot the area, and the quickest way to kill any romantic notions you
might have about the nature of bigtime agriculture is to visit one in the middle of the sum-
mer harvest. The ungodly din, the frenzied activity, the seemingly endless supply of fruit -
all your imagined bucolic scenes of Farmer Brown in his overalls handpicking his peaches
will be swept away in an instant. This is where the industrial side of farming becomes
clear - food grown on a massive scale and intended to be sold at a bargain price. Here is
the source of almost all of the fruits and vegetables in your grocery store, and it is im-
possible to understand the modern produce section without understanding the differences
between it and your peachy nostalgic dreams. These packing sheds tend to look much like
any other light manufacturing plant: about the size of a football field, roughly two stories
tall, made out of prefabricated metal and prefabricated concrete. From the outside, it can
be hard to tell whether they're for peaches or water pumps. Except for the lingering per-
fume of fruit, there are few clues inside either.
The machinery looks like some gigantic Rube Goldberg invention, a mechanical con-
traption so incredibly complex that it seems it couldn't possibly serve any discernible pur-
pose. But then it swings into action. At one end is a massive garage door, which opens
to allow the entry of a truck loaded with field bins, each about the size of a large Dump-
ster. A lever locks onto a bin and gradually, with a loud mechanical groan, lifts and tilts
it, spilling its load. Onto the padded conveyor belt tumble more nectarines than you have
probably ever seen in one place, each of them perfectly round and gleaming candy-apple
red. One piece of fruit after another, each seemingly more perfect than the last, shines and
catches the light as it rumbles on its cushioned way from field bin to shipping box. The
fruit couldn't be more uniform if it were manufactured.
And in a sense, it was. This fruit was designed - you can almost use that word literally
- to be grown, packed and sold on a massive scale. The trees are bred to be disease-free
and heavy bearing. They are also selected to be short and compact, which permits easier
