New Adventures in a Heritage Orchard
Black Jack Orchard is home to about a dozen cultivars of apples that were historically farmed by Dr. Don Draney and his wife Patricia for more than 40 years beginning in 1981. At an elevation of over 6700 feet, the five-acre orchard is nestled in Haynes Canyon within the High Rolls / Mountain Park community, where apples have been famously grown since the late 1800's. Our partner and cidermaster, biologist Manda Clair Jost, grew up right next door in the 1980's and still calls Haynes Canyon her home, where she has been producing small batches of craft cider from this very same orchard since the autumn of 2002.
In 2024, the property was acquired by Jon and Tracy Schwartz, who soon partnered with Manda Clair to dedicate their harvest to "nano-scale" craft cider production in earnest. The Schwartzs' orchard method is almost entirely organic, and specific to the terroir: trees are irrigated by canyon springwater, blossoms are pollinated by native insects and a resident beehive, pests are controlled by natural invertebrate predators, and the birds, bears, and elk are all tolerated and loved – with the occasional mountain lion making a thrilling, wild appearance.
Featuring a business model focusing on private site-visits, nearby taprooms, and direct-to-consumer sale, Black Jack Orchard & Cidery is not the latest name in "Big Cider" – but rather exceptional premium cider in small handmade batches that highlight the true flavor of apples grown only on-site, so that you can "taste the place" when you visit, or enjoy our ciders from home.
Jonathan Schwartz, Principal Apple Grower
Tracy and Jon Schwartz, Black Jack Orchard Proprietors
Manda Clair Jost, Cidermaster and Director of Production
Ray Baca, Heritage Consultant for the Old Draney Orchard
But wait, what about that creature?
Oh... that.
The one the water-dowsers used to call the "black jack".
Well-dowsing, or water-witching, is a time-honored tradition in southern New Mexico that persists to this day, typically done by local men. Our cidermaster recalls when her own father brought over a half-blind water witch who successfully "felt his way" to the location of groundwater at their home next to our orchard, holding nothing but two bent metal rods and a branch of fresh-cut willow.
Some of the older water witchers, most of whom are now gone, used to tell a story about a half-raven, half-jackrabbit creature that the Spaniards learned about from colonial natives in New Mexico: a mysterious but benevolent spirit that quietly walked paths above the hidden, sacred groundwater, thus revealing where a spring could be found or where plantings would thrive. The Spaniards knew it as "El Mensajero" – The Messenger – but as the story goes, land battles and water disputes caused the creature to disappear by the late 1800s, until such time (it is said) that the land and water stewards resume more peaceful, sustainable ways.
