The Bolinas Farmstand: A Pure Escape
There are few notable places that have not been widely discovered. With the rise of social media it seems any unique place can be exposed to the world, leaving it a mainstream tourist attraction. But when I first stumbled upon the Bolinas Farmstand by lucky chance in 2014, I knew it would be a secret held close to my heart. The Bolinas Farmstand is a pure place, discrete and localized. I have thought about writing about the farmstand in the past, for high school essays or school newspapers, but I often found myself changing the subject last minute out of fear of exposing a rare place that has taught me so much. Is it selfish of me to hold this secret, when others could learn as much from it as I have?
I live in Stinson Beach, a small beach town along Highway 1, far out in the boonies of West Marin County. Amongst my mostly retired or middle aged neighbors, Ulla Wilcox was my beach-dwelling diamond in the rough. Despite her being a year younger than me I always balance Ulla perfectly, her artistic creativity and my adventurous spirit are a beautiful blend. The addition of my headstrong and hilarious younger sister Lauren topped us off as an unstoppable trio. With the rest of the young adult population on the other side of Mt. Tamalpais, a windy 45 minute drive away, Ulla, Lauren and I became each other's source of adventure. When we were young, it was building fairy cottages from sticks and shells found in the dunes by the seashore. But once I started driving, West Marin became unexplored terrain for us to conquer.
Bolinas is the town closest to Stinson, a 20 minute drive north of Highway 1 or a five minute paddle across the Bolinas-Stinson lagoon channel. It is a hidden and reclusive town. Despite its immaculate beauty locals are unwelcoming to tourists, so only familiar faces of beach recluses dwell there. The only welcome sign to ever stand in front of the town was ripped down by locals; a precaution to keep outsiders away. Stinson inhabitants are slightly more accepted.
The venture that led me to the Bolinas Farmstand began with a simple curiosity between Ulla and I to understand the hostil town of Bolinas. If you can find your way to this off the beaten path town, the farmstand is one of the first places you will see. The stand itself is just off the road. A small, white, open shack sits on the side of the highway, lined with shelves decorated with a vast rainbow of organic vegetables. Bright red beats, bundled baby leeks and heads of lettuce build a mural of fresh produce, and if I make it early enough in the day I might be lucky enough to get my hands on a recently baked loaf of bread or a dozen freshly laid eggs. Eating food that’s been harvested that same morning brings a raw authenticity to a dish, the taste is exquisite.
The farmstand works on honor code, so rather than paying a cashier a bright yellow "Honor System" sign hangs above a table in the middle of the shack with a wooden box for customers to place their money in. A newer addition to this table is a Venmo username for people to use if they don't have cash on them. The honor system policy allows the stand to be open 24 hours. I always admired the trust that Mickey Murch, the owner of the family farm, puts in his customers. Perhaps that’s one reason why I consider the stand so pure.
All of the produce is freshly harvested from Gospel Flat Farm, which lays just behind the stand. A bridge stands as the gateway, guiding visitors over a stream and towards long rows of seasonal vegetables. A white farmhouse sits to the right, the home of the Murch family. But I always move towards the left side of the fields to greet Ulla’s and my friends, two pigs that are permanent residents of Gospel Flat Farm. Their fenced in shack is accompanied by a foul odor and alarmingly loud grunts, but their round snouts pressed against the bars reminds me of coming home to a loyal dog, simply happy for the company. Beyond the farmyard scent, an unstable tire swing hangs from an ancient maple tree. Ulla and I have spent hours here, watching artichokes grow from the birds eye view of the tire and providing companionship to the pigs.
The first few years I visited the farm it was for adventurous purposes. Ulla, Lauren and I, and perhaps a lucky guest who we felt comfortable exposing the stand to, would go to feed the pigs and swing on the tire. When a rusted tug boat that had laid next to the stand for ages was renovated to a miniature vintage thrift store we would browse the old racks of clothing. But as I grew older, Gospel Flat Farm became a place for me to be inspired by the content I was learning as an environmental studies major. I watched as the stand succeeded by producing organic and sustainable food for the community. I had learned briefly about the importance of eating locally through my college classes, but it had always been difficult for me to apply the concepts I learned in class to the outside world. I felt so small in the grand scheme of the environmental crisis. Sure, I started eating pescatarian as a new year's resolution, but other than consoling my guilty conscience, what was that truly doing for the planet on a broad scale?
When the COVID-19 crisis surfaced I felt as though any purpose I had previously held in aiding the planet was lost. I was wasting my youthful potential, driven towards a desperate search for how to make use of my passion for environmental consciousness. But the Bolinas Farmstand grew to be my muse and I became obsessed with the importance of eating locally grown food. Eating locally serves a variety of benefits. I first focused on sustainability. Eating locally minimizes the amount of resources food takes to get from farm to table. Industrialized agriculture transports an average load of produce over 1,500 miles, using greenhouse gas-sourced transportation that leaves shipments with an enormous carbon footprint (Schnell, 615). Gospel Flat Farm is located directly behind the farmstand, making it a perfect example of sustainable transportation. The Murches grow all organic produce, minimizing the damage of pesticides and fertilizers. Their food is seasonal, which requires less water use than industrialized agriculture. The long list of benefits continues to inspire me to live a more sustainable lifestyle.
I began to learn more about the economic benefits of eating local as well. Twice the amount of money remains in the community when food is bought at local farmers markets or supermarkets, keeping the local economy alive (Schwartz, 2009). Especially during the troubling times of COVID-19 this was essential for a small town like Bolinas. Mickey’s produce is used and appreciated by his entire community. Despite the potential financial risk of allowing customers to pay based on honor, Mickey makes more money through the stand then he would selling wholesale (Henry, 2016). When setting up the stand he was tentative to put trust in his community, but he eventually came to the conclusion that if someone comes to the stand with no money but needs the food so he is willing to provide it (Laura, 2020). The trust that Mickey puts into his community speaks volume to what this stand means. It is tight-knit, rare, and pure.
After spending time studying the benefits of eating locally, I began to buy all of my produce from the Bolinas Farmstand. During the lows of shelter in place, Ulla, Lauren and I would escape the house in pursuit of a new head of organic lettuce or some freshly grown tomatoes. Eating locally became a necessity for me, and soon I was venturing further to visit farmers markets in the corners of Point Reyes. I wanted to invest my money in food that would benefit not just me but my community and the planet surrounding me. Knowing the benefits of the food made it taste that much better and motivated me to eat healthier. I wanted to continue to learn more, so soon after my interest in the farmstand sparked I began an internship with Eat Real, a company devoted to bringing local and sustainable food sources to schools. This opportunity elevated my passion for local eating, and my appreciation for the Bolinas Farmstand grew exponentially.
Throughout my journey with appreciating sustainability, the Bolinas Farmstand and Gospel Flat Farm remained a place of purity for Ulla, Lauren and me. It was an escape from frightening news broadcasts and piling death tolls as Coronavirus took hold of the country. It was innocent and disconnected from the frightening parts of the world. There, we could say hello to the pigs, push each other over the artichokes on the old tire swing, and understand that there was a pure escape left in the world.
