With Age Comes Wisdom
The story of a 130 year-old apple tree growing high in the mountains that changed a young farmer’s life.
“God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools.” — John Muir
He never could have imagined that a late September drive down a never-ending, rickety backcountry road would lead to a 45 year obsession with a tree. On that day, a spirit of adventure floated on the breeze and danced through the High Sierra pines.
Amigo Bob Cantisano was at the height of his youth. He had just bought a plot of land with several friends on the San Juan Ridge in the northern Sierra Nevada, each armed with eager intent to sustain themselves off that soil. Thrill and excitement grabbed them as they made their way down the mountain road with no end in sight.
Exploration was their faithful ally and carefree was their attitude as they came upon an old farmstead, dilapidated and abandoned. The Sierras around Nevada City are littered with the remnants of Gold Rush Era mining settlements like these. This particular one was small and secluded and the trek over 100 years ago would have been long and treacherous. I can attest that the drive down this road was steep, narrow, and had me tossed around the back of Amigo’s Subaru Outback.
It was not the structure, however, that caught Amigo’s attention that day at 4,500 feet. It was a tree. Not just any tree.
This was an apple tree with branches brimming with fruit.
Was it a mirage? What else could he do but run toward it, rip off a piece and take a bite? If nothing else, simply to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.
It was the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted. Surely, he was dreaming. How could an abandoned tree — unwatered, unpruned, untouched — produce such delicious bounty? Not to mention, at 4,500 feet of elevation!
This pear tree was not a lone ranger, either. There were apple trees, cherries, plums and other pears — each unique in taste and profile. None like anything he had ever tasted before. Certainly you would never find these varieties in a supermarket.
Year after year, he went back to that site to harvest the fruit and those trees continued to captivate his thoughts, leaving him with thousands of questions.
Where did these trees come from? How are they still alive, brimming with fruit? What are these varieties that have survived so high in mountains and seem to be disease, pest and drought resistant?
A great mystery lie in these aging orchard decorated with nature’s candy: Who had come to harvest those trees but squirrels and bears?
And there was the beginning of 45 years of archival work and plant exploration.
The answer to those questions was found in a name that few know: Felix Gillet.
Gillet holds a unique place with an unsung story in the fruit and nut growing history of the California and the Pacific Northwest. Born in France in 1835, he came to the ‘boom town’ of Nevada City, California in 1859 — working initially as a barber. But his great passion was for plants and horticulture. In 1871, he opened “Barren Hill” nursery, one of the first fruit and nut nurseries on the West coast.
In his lifetime, Gillet imported and bred hundreds of varieties of plants that are commonly cultivated today. He brought plants to California from all over the world. He also wrote extensively on the cultivation of a wide variety of crops, and was considered an authority during his lifetime of work. Many of those original introductions, as Amigo found, still thrive today in the Sierra. While most of the mining towns have gone bust and their buildings have fallen apart, those trees are still crowned with the glory of sweet apples, succulent plums, and juicy pears.
In dedication to researching Gillet’s legacy and saving these trees from being cut down and extinct forever, Amigo founded the Felix Gillet Institute in 2001. Over the years, Amigo and his team of fruit explorers, have discovered thousands of these heirloom fruit and nut trees that were planted in mining camps, farms, and ranches in the Sierra Nevada from 1850–1900.
His mission is to plant a ‘Mother orchard’ to preserve these hardy, unique and delicious heirloom trees and make them available to gardeners and farmers everywhere. With the support of almost 200 backers on Barnraiser, Amigo was able to raise 166% of his $20,000 funding goal for a total of just over $33,000.
It’s critical to preserve these hardy, disease and drought resistant heirlooms. Amigo’s longstanding dream has been to bring the best of these plants from the 1800’s into the 21st century.
“We are so excited to have you put our trees in your garden, orchard or farm and have you share with us the mysteries and joys of growing delicious heirloom fruits, grapes and nuts.”
Amigo is also headed to Italy this fall to present his work at the global Slow Food gathering, Terra Madre. Slow Food International has accepted ten of his rare fruit & nut varieties in the Ark of Taste, the Hall of Fame for superb and endangered food plants.
He is well on his way to developing a one-acre “Mother” Orchard filled with over 200 heirloom fruit and nut trees, roses and grapes, and preserving the best of the genetics he can find, before the original trees fade from existence.
Or at least, to save them from those fools that John Muir spoke of.
Written by Candice Santaferraro — @csantaferraro
