Agroforestry Allies and the Unexpected Power of Community

Some months, the land teaches you. Other months, the people do.

April was a strange, funny, brilliant blur of conversations I didn’t see coming—random introductions that turned into rooted connections. This is the world of modern agroforestry: close-knit, generous, and wildly alive.

🦡 Chestnuts and Prescribed Fire with Badger Johnson

Badger Johnson is a forester, farmer, and agroforestry graduate from the University of Missouri. He is a walking encyclopedia on prescribed fires and has a passion for agroforestry. I was introduced to him through my discussions with Dietrich, and this was a great example of collaboration that I would have never done without talking in depth with others.

We discussed managing the nine acres of woods we’ve been slowly rewilding here. Badger’s done controlled burns throughout the Ohio River Valley and is especially tuned into the Appalachian ecosystems of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia. I particularly enjoyed his story on agroforestry, designing his forestry business, and spreading the good word on American chestnuts.

I plan to join him this fall for his prescribed burn course, and he’s looped me into his mutual aid network. I didn’t know one text could turn into that much alignment.

Oh, and if you’re curious about his work or need some serious ecological consulting:
🔗 Paradise Ecological Services

🍄 Native Truffles and Fungal Symbiosis with Dietrich Jonathan

You think you’ve heard it all until a native truffle farmer appears on Instagram.

Dietrich Jonathan is based in Seneca Rocks, WV, where he cultivates native truffles—yes, native truffles—and builds an agroforestry system rooted in Appalachian soils. He’s an agroecologist and all-around nerd, and his view of the world of fungi is unique.

We geeked out on mycorrhizal partnerships, hazelnuts, kiwiberries, and landscape recovery through food production. For him, it’s not just about harvests—it’s about healing. We had a great conversation about partnering his Appalachian truffle (Tuber canaliculatum) with my future hazelnuts and his passion for projects like porcini and chestnuts (something he started with Badger on as well) that have a mycorrhizal symbiosis.

His farm, Sweet Potomac, is doing something special. Also, their Samoyed Quasar might become fast friends with our dog Kory. Agroforestry diplomacy begins with fluff.

🧊 Freeze-Dried Futures with Lisa from Oregon Oak

Then came a totally different kind of conversation—with Lisa from Oregon Oak Co., who’s working to reduce farming waste through freeze-dried preservation. We’re talking bones, berry scraps, and nut milks turned into high-value, logistically efficient products.

Lisa is building a communal farming hub in Monroe County, WV, and her passion for local sourcing, food security, and making the most of what we grow hit home hard. We got to talking about testing a freeze dryer here on the farm—measuring electrical use, drying time, culinary potential, and how this could serve local nut and berry growers in the New River Gorge region.

Nothing’s set yet, but it could open up some fantastic possibilities. Imagine freeze-dried elderberries, pawpaw broth, or chestnut flour preserved right on the farm.

Why These Conversations Matter

People think farming is solitary. But the deeper I get into this work, the more I realize that agroforestry is a network, a mycelial one, at that. It thrives on connection.

All these folks—Badger, Dietrich, Lisa—reminded me that land stewardship isn’t about going it alone. It’s about linking arms, sharing tools, and passing along knowledge like seeds in the wind.

Modern agroforestry isn’t just regenerative. It’s relational.

And if you’re dreaming up similar projects—truffles, chestnuts, soil health, or freeze-dried ramp broth—reach out. Let’s grow something weird and beautiful together.