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Bucolic, but not always quiet
Gill says he faces a challenge generated by a clash of cultures. People who moved to the area from the metropolitan area and are not accustomed to living near a farm constantly call the DEC and state police to complain about the noise from his machinery and spraying. He said the situation has improved after he embarked on a public-relations campaign, inviting people for flying demonstrations and otherwise sharing with them aspects of his farm.
During the winter months, when his fields are planted with rye, wheat, and other grains designed to fix nitrogen in the soil, he lets snowmobilers and mountain bikers onto his land. (When the farm is in operation, he tries to keep people out, for safety reasons.) He also welcomes agritourists in the fall, having set up a pumpkin cannon and corn maze; the annual concert by Levon Helm is a big draw. Agritourism is becoming ever more lucrative, and Gill said he plans to expand on these attractions.
How can we know that Gill’s and the other farms on the Hurley Flats won’t someday disappear under the bulldozer, their fields turned into shopping malls and houses? Absolutely not, said Gill. “This land will never be developed,” he said. It’s located on a floodplain. Should the margins for sweet corn ever get to the point of being unsustainable, he has a backup plan to grow corn for livestock, which requires less expense in growing and handling.
But he doesn’t think that will happen. Indeed, Gill said that ten years from now, when another 250 million people inChinamove into the middle class, farming might again become the linchpin of the American economy. As it is, farmland around the world is rising in value, with the Chinese buying up the soy from farmers inBrazil, to cite one example. “There’s a saying of my father’s that’s so true, which is, We’re not making land any more,” Gill said.
