Consumers of alcoholic beverages choose between hard cider and beer (S.Rept.105-33)

Considering that we move a bunch of crap nearly every two or three years, TJ and I have an unspoken pact that we generally try not to give each other non-consumable presents. So for Christmas, I put into effect the "teach a man to fish" philosophy and bought him enrollment in a one-day cider-making class at Distillery Lane Ciderworks near Burkittsville, which we visited back in the fall.

During that visit, TJ bought some non-alcoholic cider that he fermented into alcoholic cider. After all, the process is less complicated than homebrewing, with which he already has experience. The first batch of cider came out quite tasty, so TJ wanted to get some further tips and try a second one. I accompanied him to the class, basically because I knew free cider samples would be on hand.

Quite a bit of the class took place inside the apple-pressing room in the form of lectures, demonstrations, and Q&A periods (read: no good picture-taking opportunities). But the owner got us outside to show us some of the operations of the orchard, which was nice since we didn't even notice and therefore follow the self-guided tour signs during our previous visit.

First, he explained the process of actually growing apple trees. Apparently, if you plant apple seeds, there is no telling what kind of apple will sprout; a Granny Smith seed does not get you more Granny Smiths, for example. And buying and planting full-grown trees is expensive and difficult. So growers start specific varieties of new trees by grafting, in which a branch is attached to an already-planted tree base. This farm mainly uses the whip-graft technique, in which the branch and base are notched then taped together (left). According to genomic studies, the apple originated in Kazakhstan, so the farm bought some untested sprouts from the Central Asian country, but it still has to wait a few years to see what type of fruit -- tart to sweet -- they bear (right).

During the winter, the main operations of the orchard center on maintenance. All the trees are pruned to keep branches growing slightly above parallel to the ground, which allows them to get the right amount of sunlight and bear the weight of the apples (left). Bad apples that fall to the ground and rot before they can be harvested are collected and distributed to South Mountain Creamery to be used as cattle feed (right).

 

All the good apples, of course, have already been picked, then sold whole or pressed into cider, either alcoholic or not. The hard-cider process is pretty simple. It starts with sanitizing all ingredients and equipment so no bad bacteria throw off the flavor. Then yeast is added to initiate fermentation, which can last a month or longer. Then you drink the cider, or if you want sparkling cider, you leave it to carbonate in bottles for another couple of weeks. As you can see, the hardest part of the process is having patience. And on this day, we didn't have any, so we went to Mad Horse Brewpub in nearby Lovettsville (left). They didn't have cider on tap, so we tried the Falcon IPA, Nut Brown Ale, Pony Pale Ale, Abbey Ale, and Stout instead (right).

Besides cider and beer, the only way to make this present even more perfect for TJ was to let him go running in the mountains. So we headed to Gathland State Park, formerly the site of the Gapland estate of George Alfred Townsend, whose empty crypt sits right next to the Appalachian Trail (left). Townsend, who ended up being buried next to wife in Philadelphia, was a Civil War correspondent who wrote under the pen name "Gath," which is how the park got its modern name. On the grounds of the park is a War Correspondents Memorial Arch that Townsend built in honor of his fellow reporters (right).

 

The state park also pays homage to the 6,100 soldiers who were killed, wounded, or missing because of events at the South Mountain State Battlefield. Union troops wanted to pass through Crampton's Gap in order to get at Confederate troops being led by Gen. Robert E. Lee. They didn't entirely succeed, but they weakened his forces before the Battle of Antietam three days later. That bloodiest day in American military history was thankfully a distant memory as we watched the sun set over the Blue Ridge Mountains on our way home, where hopefully we soon will have a few gallons of cider to sip.