J Williams is the orchard guide at Ya Ya Farm & Orchard, on the outskirts of Longmont, Colorado, about 30 minutes north of Boulder.
“Down here we’ve got Golden Delicious and Honeycrisp, another McIntosh tree,” Williams said.
During the autumn rush, this is her day: orienting visitors before releasing them to frolic among the trees. And she stays busy. Apple pickers come through in 15-minute intervals. Every single time slot is filled.
“This is where you’ll be picking straight down,” Williams told a group of pickers. “There’s a variety of trees.”
One September morning, she welcomed three generations of the Dziubla clan: three kids, parents and grandparents. Eight-year-old Gabe had grand ambitions.
“We’re gonna make an apple pie!” he said.
As the kids ran from apple-heavy tree to apple-heavy tree, their mom, Carly, confided that this picture of breezy, autumnal wholesomeness took some serious type A planning.
“The first year we did it, we didn’t get a spot,” she said. “So now I make a reservation in January.”
January! Forget about Taylor Swift. When autumn comes to Colorado, the hottest tickets in town are at the local pick-your-own orchard.
Ya Ya’s owner, Sharon Perdue, said she had to start the reservation system years ago just to keep from being overrun. “It’s just demand versus supply,” she said. “Each year, more and more people want to pick my apples.”
About 5,000 people tried to book a spot last autumn. That’s well more than twice as many as Perdue can accommodate. But supply will always lag far behind demand simply because apple farming is a risky proposition in northern Colorado, where the summers are brutally hot and dry, and the growing season is notoriously short.
“If I have a crop that produces 50%, I consider it a success,” Perdue said. “It’s not the best climate for apple trees. So why would you do that?”
Even if Perdue wanted to keep up with the apple pickers, it’s not like new apple trees can suddenly hype up production.
“You plant a tree — it’s five to seven years till you get fruit,” Perdue said.
And, according to Colorado State University agricultural economist Dawn Thilmany, if opportunities for Colorado apple picking are slim, that’s because opportunities for local orchards are disappearing.
“Most of the urban corridor farms, there’s nowhere to expand to,” Thilmany said. “We’re just losing agricultural land. It’s got the highest development pressure near urban areas where we’d exactly put a U-pick farm.”
Apple farmers can charge a premium for the U-pick experience, but many shy away from the model. It comes with its own costs and liabilities. And hospitality takes an entirely different skill set from farming.
“If you do it well, you really do have to manage crowds,” Thilmany said. “Everybody wants to do the apple picking on the same four Saturdays in the fall when the weather’s pretty.”
That certainly rang true for Mary Pacini, up by the orchard parking lot that September morning. She was more like the rest of us: She did not book an apple-picking outing eight full months in advance. But she showed up hoping for a cancellation. And she was out of luck.
“I’ve tried the last three years, and every time it’s too late,” Pacini said. “It’s already full.”
Meanwhile, the forward-thinking Dziublas were soaking up the pretty weather that morning. After about 20 minutes dashing about the orchard, 8-year-old Gabe declared mission accomplished.
“We’re done with apple picking,” he said.
His sack was full of fruit, more than enough for that pie. Before the family left, one last autumn treat — this one from the farmstand.
“Now can we go get an apple doughnut?” he asked. “Yes we can,” said his father, Travis Dziubla.
“You earned your doughnut,” his mother agreed.
And almost as soon as that pie came out of the oven, it was just about time for her to make the next year’s reservation.
