Picking (Out) Apples

For the three years we lived in Philadelphia, we went apple-picking every fall with our friends Kaela and Mike (and, the third year, baby Antje). This year, we knew it was up to us alone to continue our tradition in the Midwest. We crossed the Mighty Mississippi into Illinois to get to Eckert's Apple Orchards. The chart on their web site said they had apples until the end of October.

After driving 45 minutes (including a bit through East Saint Louis, which is a scary place--like North Philly, but less vibrant), we arrived at the carnival atmosphere of the farm complex--only to find that they had no apples to pick. Undaunted, we decided to pick pumpkins instead.

The tractor pulled a wagonload of us out of the parking lot

past a pond and a Christmas tree farm,


alongside fields,


and to the pumpkin patch.


We tried to get Ben to pose for pictures


but he was more interested in running around saying "punkee! punkee!" and pointing at every pumpkin he could see.



At one point he took off--


but towards what?



A tractor--



perhaps the highlight of his trip.



We took the pumpkins back



and ate lunch at the overpriced family restaurant.



Ben posed for a few pictures, which he didn't like doing any more than last year.














We picked out two bags of apples at the orchard store, and Ben ate a Golden Delicious when we got home.



That night, we had macaroni and cheese, followed by apple crisp.

It wasn't a perfect apple-picking experience, but we had fun. Next year, I know to call the Harvest Hotline before we go.