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Master Luthiers Make Music in Central Oregon

Mention Bend and folks say “beautiful” and “beer.” But there’s another descriptor taking the stage. “Central Oregon is an incubator of instrument building,” said Brad Tisdel, creative director of the Sisters Folk Festival. “People here have an expansive view of music and art as an expression of culture and economic vitality. We have created a very healthy ecosystem.”

For more than three decades, Central Oregon companies and luthiers have created fretted, stringed instruments—works of art played around the world. Some conjecture that Central Oregon has become an incubator for instrument building because of its manageable humidity and temperature, or perhaps it’s proximity to the robust builder scene in Portland and the availability of ideal wood in the Pacific Northwest. Then, there’s Bend’s laid-back, music-centric culture set in nature’s playground.

“Every builder I know appreciates just being around wood,” said Andrew Mowry, a Bend mandolin and archtop guitar builder who spends free time outdoors. “When I see a giant spruce tree, it’s hard not to think of how many instruments could be made out of it.”

While living in Montana, Mowry harvested an Engelmann spruce—a favorite for instrument tops. With undergrad and graduate science degrees, he uses a computer-controlled device to rough-carve his tops. But he’s a scientist who also likes to draw. “The convergence of art and science is one of the draws to lutherie.”

His work is in high demand, as attested by a waiting list of more than three years and clients in Canada and the United Kingdom. That’s without a single dollar spent on marketing. “Hand-made instruments are sold mostly by word of mouth,” he said.

Jayson Bowerman and Susie Zeither's glass guitar made in Bend
Jayson Bowerman and Susie Zeither’s glass guitar

A Reverence for Wood

It all begins with the wood. Instrument builders hoard it, hunt it and honor it. In essence, it’s the soul of a hand-made instrument.

Bend luthier Butch Boswell thinks about wood incessantly, spending most of the year locked in his Franklin Avenue shop bending, carving and gluing pieces of wood together. At least once a year, he heads off to the Siskiyou Mountains where he harvests old-growth redwood from an abandoned railroad tunnel. “Tunnel 13” is the title of a Mark Knopfler song and the wood used in one of the several Bowell guitars Knopfler owns. The former lead of Dire Straits has collaborated with Boswell on a signature model. The 20 slots sold almost immediately when the model was announced.

Boswell studied engineering in college while learning guitar repair at a music shop. Although he played in several bands, he was more drawn to instruments than performing. He spent 15 years repairing guitars but eventually began building them. About 12 years ago, he relocated from California to Bend, and his reputation soared. Boswells are described by Fretboard Journal as Martin-flavored, “inspired by the classics, but also sporting forward-thinking features.” 

What makes a good instrument builder? “Drive and tenacity,” said Boswell. “You must give 150 percent to the work.” Being a luthier is hard on the body, with hours spent hunched over a bench. All the carving, binding, inlaying and finishing require nuclear-level focus. Many materials, tools and operations performed by 21st-century luthiers would be entirely familiar to Stradivari, the 17th-century Italian string-instrument master craftsman. Unusual materials exist: Jayson Bowerman, a former Breedlove luthier, recently made one of the world’s first lap steel-glass guitars with Sister’s fused-glass artist Susie Zeitner.

Andrew Mowry makes mandolins in Bend, Oregon
Andrew Mowry mandolin and archtop guitar builder in Bend, Oregon

Tradition Meets Innovation

In 1990, two Taylor Guitar alumni, Larry Breedlove and Steve Henderson, founded Breedlove in a Tumalo studio. Breedlove’s brother and banjo builder Kim joined them. The three builders carved a niche in an industry dominated by Gibson, Martin and Taylor by combining a distinctive modern design with Pacific Northwest woods, such as myrtlewood, redwood and Port Orford cedar. The operation moved to a new Bend facility in 2008 and encountered financial headwinds, leading to the sale of Breedlove to Tom Bedell, a guitar entrepreneur. Today, Bedell and Breedlove’s two guitar brands are crafted by an almost 40-person team under the corporate entity “Two Old Hippies,” Bedell’s company. More than 1,500 Breedlove and 200 Bedell guitars are made in Bend annually. A luthier working alone would be hard-pressed to make more than a dozen instruments a year.

The two brands are strikingly different: Bedells harken back to another era of guitar building and are, in essence, an “old classic car,” according to Robert (RA) Beattie, marketing and artist relations director. Breedlove, on the other hand, stakes its claim on innovation and sustainability, a kind of “Tesla of the guitar world.” Breedlove pioneered the use of Oregon myrtlewood, which is wavy-patterned and more sustainable than most instrument wood. Company outreach includes donating materials to Sisters High School’s luthier program and annually donating a guitar for the Sisters Folk Festival.

Also in Bend is Weber Mandolins, once part of the Two Old Hippies cohort. Since 2022, former Breedlove luthier Ryan Fish has run the company independently, with a reputation for making top-flight mandolins. If listening to Counting Crows, Trampled by Turtles or blues musician Keb’ Mo’, the bell-like mandolin pickings come from a Weber.

Tom Nechville banjo maker
Tom Nechville, Banjos West, Sisters, Oregon

Sisters Joins the Band

The small town of Sisters is another hotbed of instrument building. Thompson Guitars, founded in 2013, is a boutique shop, building about 100 instruments a year. The company was founded by Preston Thompson, a guitar maker who fashioned instruments in the 1930s, the golden era of Martin Guitars. Master luthier Thompson passed away in 2019, but his approach to building continues at his Sisters shop. Thompson devotees include Grammy-award winner Peter Rowan, who bought his first guitar from Thompson in the 1980s, and Billy Strings, a wildly popular contemporary guitarist whose band played the Redmond “Farewell Festival” in July. Molly Tuttle, who won a Grammy for Best Bluegrass Album in 2024, has several Thompson guitars in her collection, including a Thompson Signature model.

Down the street from Thompson Guitars is the retail location of Banjos West owned by Tom Nechville and his partner Linda Leavitt. Nechville, an inventive banjo maker formerly based in Minnesota, recognized kindred musical spirits in Sisters. “Our alternative designs take the best ideas from the past and improve them, for an interesting balance of tradition and innovation,” Nechville said. He found the designs were more readily acceptable in the northwest, making Sisters a natural location for Nechville’s new production facility, Banjo Revolution, which allows him to spend more time on every banjo he creates.    

The Billy Strings band embodies the instrument building scene in Sisters: Not only does Billy Strings play a Thompson guitar, but his banjo player Billy Failing picks a Nechville Vintage Eclipse.

Luthiers of Bend Oregon
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Tom Nechville , Butch Boswell, Jayson Bowerman, Andrew Mowry & Rebecca Urlacher

The Artistry of Lutherie

Rebecca Urlacher is a rarity in the lutherie world. In the early 2000s, she Googled “female luthiers” and found only three women in the field. Urlacher, who moved to Bend in high school and earned a BFA at the University of Oregon, is also rare as a luthier who doesn’t play music. “She’s one of the top 10 builders I’ve encountered,” said Boswell. “She can voice a top like no one else.” Voicing a top involves tapping the wood, carefully listening to the tone and then adjusting its thickness and shape. When Urlacher taps a guitar top, she’s imagining “how that guitar will sing.” she said. Her finger-style guitars are known for their playability, amazing sustain and wide dynamic range.

Urlacher was a decade into a successful career as a porcelain ceramicist when she took a right turn toward guitars. “I saw a picture of a luthier’s shop—all those tools and wood—and said, ‘That’s it.’” Urlacher learned instrument building by reading books, watching videos and interacting with other builders. “You can approach building very scientifically, but I approach it more instinctually.” Her instincts—honed by years of hand-building classy, simple vessels of clay—help her shape magnificent instruments of wood, and she builds only five or six guitars a year, which allows her meticulous focus. 

She said she builds guitars for the music. “There’s no greater thing than creating something people play.”

Rebecca Urlacher of Bend Oregon female Luthier
Local Guitar maker, Rebecca Urlacher of Bend Oregon
Consciously Curly

Dominiqe Taylor Mixes Nature with Inclusivity

Persistence and purpose define entrepreneur Dominiqe Taylor, founder of the sustainable hair products company Consciously Curly Co. A biology and environmental studies graduate of Southern Utah Polytechnic University, Taylor began her venture into the world of beauty products while working in Zion National Park, where she cooked her meals in the shadow of sandstone cliffs. Taylor’s passion for the natural world and sustainable living inspired her to delve into the ingredients that filled her self-care routine, namely products for her kinky-curly hair. She discovered the majority contained properties both carcinogenic and teeming with ground-water contamination toxins. Taylor became passionate about finding cleaner, more inclusive options that were not packaged in environmentally damaging plastics. When she came up empty-handed, she decided to create her own. Determined to help people feel like their best selves without jeopardizing health or the environment, Taylor’s Consciously Curly Co. (CCC) raises the bar for conscious living.

Your story is inspiring and courageous. Walk us through the creation of your products.

I am very much a learn by trial-and-error type of person. Consequently, my products have been made and remade and remade again. They started as painfully simple kitchen concoctions. While I really liked that they were completely natural, I wasn’t in love with the results. Despite this, my curiosity had peaked, and I found myself absolutely loving the experimentation of it all. I decided to take a formulating course online; I read six different textbooks (cover to cover), followed chemist forums, and tested everything I learned. I started expanding the ingredients I worked with–researching each one thoroughly. The formulations today are more sophisticated than their predecessors, but simple in comparison to the products you find in box stores.

consciously curly co products

Tell us more about how Consciously Curly Co. products differ.

I focus on naturally derived, nontoxic and sustainable ingredients to build the formulations that make up CCC products and packaging. Every decision I make centers around inclusivity and sustainability. I don’t want my products to shout, “I’m just for men” or “I’m just for women.” I want them to exemplify what they are–a sustainable option for any race, gender or identity. I really try to hear my customers and give their suggestions a shot. If enough people ask for something, I’ll try to offer it. Changes in the products I offer are a direct reflection of that.

Your logo “Mycohair: Hair on Shrooms,” is intriguing. How did mushrooms become so integral to your product line?

I have always had a deep interest in mycology and spend a lot of my free time foraging mushrooms, so I was thrilled to discover and experiment with the use of mushrooms in haircare. Each mushroom serves a different purpose, but in short, I use mushrooms in the products because they are incredible alternatives to lab-made ingredients–and they work better!

What makes CCC stand out in the beauty product industry?

Consciously Curly Co. brings the intersectionality of environmentalism and inclusivity to the table. I’m a woman of color in the sustainable beauty industry. That brings a whole different dynamic, and begins to fill a hole that is still majorly lacking. Hair products are a big deal in the black community and the lack of products for textured, curly, oily hair just wasn’t acceptable to me. So I started CCC with an aim to bridge that gap. I used what science knowledge I had, took a dive into the formulating world and got to work.

Dominiqe-Taylor with her products, Consciously-Curly Co.

What are your long term goals for CCC?

I want people to have more access to sustainable, nontoxic products as far as affordability and proximity go. I plan to get my products into thousands of eco-shops nationally and internationally. But CCC will always be a small-run, intentionally-led and integrity-driven company. I don’t plan to be present in major box stores, but I want to have more options than online ordering. I also hope to one day offer bottle take-backs to create a closed system of production and waste, and design recycled bottle pumps and spray nozzles–or inspire a developer to create them.

Being an entrepreneur is challenging, tell us: What continues to inspire your journey?

I’ve learned about the power of integrating your passions into your work and how it fuels you to push through really hard times. I promise myself that when I feel the intuitive push to leap, I will without question. That also helps me settle into less than ideal times, trust the process and appreciate the journey. My passion is to connect people to nature through practical means and relatable ways. Mushrooms not only do amazing things for your hair, they get people curious about them. I think the more curiosity we have about nature, the more we are pulled to it. The more we are pulled to it, the more incentive we have to protect it.

For the full interview with Dominiqe, listen to the episode on our podcast, The Circling Podcast on NOTA. | Learn more about our podcast here. | Read more about our vibrant Central Oregon businesses here. 

The History of Ice Skating and Bend’s Zamboni Drivers

There’s a crispness to the air. Every breath produces a wisp of steam. The upbeat music, piped in from overhead speakers, encourages spectators to join the fun. It’s Open Skate at The Pavilion, where skaters of all ages and abilities gather in Bend.

The natural wonders of Central Oregon have inspired enthusiasts since the establishment of the city in the early 1900s. Ranchers sought outdoor entertainment on sunny winter days, and Scandinavian mill workers imported their reliance on what they referred to as friluftsliv—outdoor living—to cure the challenges of those first days.

The abundance of lakes around Bend helped bring ice skating to the region. Local skating enthusiasts favored the upper part of the failed Tumalo Reservoir and the abandoned fish hatchery pond at Shevlin Park. The only requisite was a little help from Mother Nature to bring a freeze to standing water. It would take until the founding of Bend’s first ski club in 1927, Skyliners, before organized skating became a popular winter sport in Central Oregon. Helping the rinks take form was the job of ice makers, and the first was Myron Symons.

The History of Ice Skating and Bend's Zamboni Drivers
Photo from The Deschutes Historical Society

Bend’s First Ice Maker

Born in Stafford, New York, Symons came to Bend in 1915 from Dawson, Yukon. He hit it off with Skyliners’ founders, Chris Kostol, Emil Nordeen, Nels Skjersaa and Nils Wulfsberg, and quickly became involved in the skating community. The Bend Bulletin called him, “one of Bend’s most enthusiastic exponents of the winter sport.”

He began making ice for Skyliners in the 1930s and was instrumental in the creation of an outdoor skating rink at Skyliners’ winter playground located near the upper Tumalo Creek in 1938—where Skyliner Lodge can still be found. The technique he used was the same throughout his career: He flooded the area, building up a 3-inch-thick slab of ice. After the ice was set, he sprinkled hot water to fine-tune problem areas. With Symons’ help, Bend’s first skating rink came to fruition in 1949 at Troy Field, the open area nestled between the original Bend High School (today Bend-La Pine’s administration building) and St. Francis School (now known as McMenamins Old St. Francis School). Symons relied on the Bend Fire Department to flood the field with fire hoses. “The tap to access the water was made from a fire hydrant at the northwest corner of the field,” said Jim Crowell, who used to skate at Symons’ rink during his grade school years. Symons used any excuse to be on the ice himself. Crowell recalled Symons as “the guy who glided around Troy Field, an elder statesman of inner-city skating.”

Bend Parks and Rec Zamboni Driver

Ice Master Today

Today, Donne Fox Horne is the maestro of ice as Zamboni operator at Bend Parks & Recreation’s The Pavilion. Growing up in Woodstock, New Hampshire, Horne has skated since his early years. “If the ice on the pond was thick enough, we didn’t go to school that day,” Horne said. After spending 25 years maintaining the ice arena at the Holderness School in Plymouth, New Hampshire, a visit to Bend in 2015 changed Horne’s trajectory. That same year, The Pavilion opened, with its NHL-regulation size rink of 200-by-85 feet of ice. Horne found a home at the new rink, a place to create ice magic with the help of a Zamboni.

From Flooding to Zamboni

Unlike Symons’ flooding technique, Horne relies on the 11,000-pound Zamboni machine to maintain ice at The Pavilion. “I usually get here at 4:30 in the morning to start resurfacing the ice,” said Horne. The technical wizardry happens at the tail end of the Zamboni where an apparatus that touches the ice contains everything needed for producing perfect ice—one-sixteenth of an inch at a time.

First, a knife shaves the ice while an auger removes the slush. Next, wash water is sprinkled onto the ice followed by a vacuum, which removes the dirty water. The final phase is a sprinkler system that sprays hot water onto the ice, followed by a towel that spreads water evenly behind the Zamboni.

Horne also has a secret weapon to battle warming trends, something that wasn’t available to Symons. The cement slab below the ice acts as a giant freezer. “We have between nine-11 miles of pipes that move a 19-degree glycol mix underneath the slab,” said Horne. “Think of it like the back of a refrigerator.”

Bend has come far from its early days of frozen ponds, irrigation ditches and the flooded Troy Field. From late October until early April, the ice at The Pavilion provides a centerpiece for winter sports. Myron Symons would be proud. See bendparksandrec.org.

Read more about our vibrant community and Central Oregon heritage articles.

Zamboni at work smoothing the ice at the Pavillion in Bend

Meet the ‘New Farmers’ of Central Oregon

What do a doctor, a math teacher, a diesel mechanic and an entrepreneur do when they want to change careers? Farm, of course. For a number of enterprising Central Oregonians, farming is a passionate second act.

While an older generation of local farmers have “aged out,” said Annie Nichols, farm and ranch support manager for the High Desert Farm and Food Alliance, younger (though not always young) farmers are emerging. Despite many challenges including the weather, the rising cost of land and contentious water rights, some people with big dreams and a spiritual draw to the land are changing careers and choosing to farm. 

“To get started, new farmers need to believe that they are helping their communities and the land,” said Nichols. She noted that small farms “are an important way to combat climate change—and the new generation of farmers gets that.” 

Here are the new farmers: romantics and realists, driven by a belief that cultivating something—amaranth or alpacas, honey or hay—is a meaningful way to contribute to Central Oregon’s vibrancy and self-sufficiency.

Dave Naftalin's child feeding an alpacaNaftaland

From Entrepreneur to Hemp and Alpaca Farmer

Dave Naftalin is as comfortable in a boardroom as he is on a tractor.  

Naftalin came to Central Oregon after owning a Washington D.C. commercial real estate firm and working as a Maryland park ranger. Upon arriving in Bend, he became director of operations and director of the global supply chain for Humm Kombucha. After a few years, he looked around at his Tumalo land and asked, “What’s next?”

The answer arrived in the realization that “my purpose in life is to raise children, plants and animals.” Now in his third season, Naftalin’s farm (five of his own and twenty-five rented acres) includes sixty alpacas and 5,000 hemp plants. 

“Central Oregon is the Napa Valley of hemp,” Naftalin declared, noting that the climate, water and soil are ideal. While half of all hemp farmers who entered the market when the law changed in 2015 have already quit, Naftalin has gone all in, raising hemp that produces CBG (cannabigerol), one of more than 100 cannabinoids whose significant medical benefits are emerging through ongoing research. Recently, both Japanese and Swiss government representatives flew in to investigate Naftalin’s approach to growing hemp which is, he said unapologetically, “producing some of the highest potency CBG crystals ever seen. When top European and Asian distributors are contacting a small farmer in Tumalo, you know this is huge.”  

Naftalin and his full-time farm hand are “like mad scientists,” tending each plant every day, piping in classical music and using drip lines to transport live bacteria and amendments to the plants. And while he initially got into alpacas for the fiber, he’s now “breeding for the best genetics in the world.” 

“I work this land and the land works me,” Naftalin said, noting this is the hardest he’s ever worked for the least remuneration. However, when the single dad takes a rare moment to look out on his flock, his fields and his three children, he says, “I’m living the life I’m meant to live.” 

naftaland.com

Lazy Z Ranch

From Math Teacher and Therapist to Historic Ranch Owners

John and Renée Herman and their family on Lazy Z Ranch

John and Renée Herman have run the Lazy Z ranch just south of Sisters since June 2020. Leaving behind their “cushy” (John’s word) life in San Diego and coming to Central Oregon to care for the eighty-three-acre iconic ranch is the culmination of a long-held dream. 

“Farming was in our blood in different ways,” Renée said. John grew up on a northern California ranch and Renée’s Kirkland, Washington, parents were mad gardeners.  

While living in California and starting a family, John worked as a math teacher and Renée studied to become a marriage and family therapist. Still, they knew they “wanted to tie down into the soil somewhere.” 

What are their hopes for the Lazy Z? “A mix of a plan and surprise,” Renée said.

To create the plan, they spent months meeting with neighbors and experts to suss out practices to restore the soil, which John described as “compacted and dead” from years of flood irrigation, overgrazing and too many horses. They will spend their first growing season adding organic material to sixty-three irrigated acres, planting thirty different seeds for pollinators and waiting for the surprise. “We want to see what will grow here,” John said.

Lazy Z Ranch bee boxes

Their goal for the irrigated land? To create half a foot of organic material over the next five to ten years. They’d love to lease some land to other growers who share their farming and ranching values, which they describe as “regenerative.” Also already in place are hundreds of bees and a dozen bee boxes, which were colorfully painted by art students at Sisters High School.

The scope of their dream echoes the hopes of 19th century homesteaders. “We describe ourselves as a regenerative nectar and pollen farm, focusing on bee products, u-pick and potentially, someday, a small winery,” said John. They are already boarding horses, hosting cattle who are “massaging” and fertilizing the soil, planting berries and pumpkins, raising goats, and cultivating bee hives (John is the beekeeper). Soon they hope to brew honey mead, restore their impressive 100-year-old barn (could it become a farm brewery like those they saw in Belgium?) and, very importantly, turn the Lazy Z into a community resource for Sisters. “The reality of how the community has responded to our dream is so much more than we could have imagined,” Renée said. 

They have no delusions about the Lazy Z supporting their family of four; Renée works as a therapist in Redmond. “Our goal is to have enough money to live and to give back to our community,” John said.

lazyzranch.com

Sakari Farms

From Natural Resource Manager and Diesel Specialist to Indigenous Agriculturalists

Spring and Sam of Sakari Farms

The sign on Highway 20 just north of Tumalo says “Sakari,” which means “sweet” in Inupiat, the language of its owner’s Native Alaskan tribe. “There aren’t many words for farming or plants in the Arctic,” said Upingakraq “Spring” Alaska Schreiner with a laugh, “but many words for snow, whale and walrus.” 

Spring is the indigenous agriculturalist, seed keeper, farmer, owner and educator at Sakari Farms. Ten years ago, she launched the Central Oregon Seed Exchange, growing on rented plots across the county. In 2018, she and Sam Schreiner bought a six-acre farm, and their work shifted into turbo.

The compact farm is humming with activity. Greenhouses burst with vegetables and specialty tribal peppers (Sam’s passion). Fields feature Native plants for ceremonial use as well as eating and dyeing. Flowers, squash and rows of lavender and thyme attract bees tended by a keeper. In the off-season, they prepare healing teas, hot sauces and other plant-based products and sell them through Sakari Botanicals. Additionally, the farm is home to a cold-climate seed bank, along with both educational courses and cooking classes. Outreach to Native populations throughout Central Oregon is part of Sakari’s mission. Organic and biodynamic growing practices guide their work. They hold the Intertribal Agricultural Council’s “Made by Native American” patent certification.

An array of Sakari Farm Botanicals

Before they turned all their attention to farming, Sam, a Camp Sherman native, was a diesel specialist, and Spring was working for the Deschutes Water Soil and Conservation District. In
the ultimate “meet cute,” they were introduced while Spring was running the county’s manure exchange program.   

For Spring, farming is both a way of making a living and an act of social change. “With the social unrest last summer, I had an ‘aha’ moment,” she said. “Different voices were needed.” Serving on multiple regional and national agricultural boards and educational committees as an advocate for local farmers and tribal members, Spring was awarded the 2021 Na’ahlee Tribal Fellowship and the 2019 National Association of State Department of Agriculture Women Farm to Food Award. To reinforce her indigenous products and practices, Spring says she “hires BIPOC employees,” noting that her crew currently includes a turkey farmer with Navajo roots and a pig farmer from Peru. 

Serving her neighbors and surrounding communities is in Spring’s DNA. “Farming is a brave act,” she said. “The more we can show healthy food-growing success in Deschutes County, the better quality of life we’re all going to have.”  

sakarifarms.weebly.comsakaribotanicals.comseedexchange.weebly.com

The Scott Farm

From Doctor and Realtor to Hay Farmers

The Scott Farm on Horseback

Dr. Yvette Scott, a Los Angeles internist, and her husband Frank, a commercial real estate broker, had only spent time in Central Oregon on vacation until 2011. Then, they became owners of twenty beautiful acres between Tumalo and Sisters. They hired a caretaker to tend the land until realizing, five years ago, that they wanted
to do it better—and do it themselves. 

“We were living to work in L.A.,” Yvette said. “We wanted to be able to work to live.” While Dr. Scott thought she would join the Central Oregon medical community after moving here, she reversed course. “Taking care of my family, the property and my animals became my new career, and I haven’t looked back since.”  

When the Scotts took over the land in 2016, locals said their hay fields were so neglected they would have to be replanted. Instead, Yvette—who had spent some time on her father’s family farm in Georgia—tended the land with helpful input from nearby farmers, restoring the blue and orchard grass fields to health. Seeing the bounty from each cutting, and doling out flakes of her baled hay to her horses, gives her intense satisfaction. Still, she’s aware of ecological issues. “Using up our precious water to grow hay is a source of conflict for me.” 

With Yvette in the lead, the team does almost all the work on the farm themselves—moving wheel lines, caring for horses, repairing equipment. The lone exception: cutting and baling hay.

Unlike Naftalin, Scott doesn’t consider farming her business. “We sell and trade hay, yes, but we are mostly stewards of this land.” Stewardship includes caring for two horses. Her mother’s family in Cuba were competitive horse jumpers, and she had boarded a horse in L.A. Now horses are integral to her life. 

“Who would have ever thought, me, a Cuban-American doctor who has lived her whole life in cities, is now doing what I do? I pinch myself every day.”

The Scott Farm equipment

Support  LOCAL FARMERS

The High Desert Food and Farm Alliance has a great guide to buying local: getataste.org. 

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