Your farmers

How Sandy's Way Started

I'm Cale. I grew up in Northern Wisconsin — a place where seasons dictate your life and hard work isn't something you talk about, it's just what you do. My career is in law enforcement, where I still serve full-time today. But somewhere along the way, the soil got a hold of me.

2002

Two garden boxes in a suburban backyard

It started with a library book. I checked out Mel Bartholomew's square foot gardening guide, picked up some lumber and soil, and built two large garden boxes in our backyard. I just wanted to grow some vegetables for my family.

Those two boxes doubled. Then tripled. I discovered something about myself: I was good at growing food. Really good. What started as a family project soon produced more than we could eat. The backyard that once felt spacious started feeling impossibly small.

2012

The man behind the name

Sandy and two of my kids in the backyard garden where it all started.

2013

The dream outgrows the backyard

By 2013, the backyard couldn't hold what this had become. I purchased a 5-acre property in Sedalia, Colorado, with a vision to start a real farm — a place where I could grow more and connect with my community.

I knew square-foot gardening wouldn't cut it at this scale. I'm a systems thinker — I needed a system that would work for this specific ground. I studied JM Fortier's market gardening approach, became a student of SPIN growing systems, read everything Eliot Coleman and Curtis Stone ever wrote. Then I stopped reading and started learning from the land itself.

2014–2015

Eight beds and a lot of humility

I spent 2014 experimenting. Learning the microclimates. Understanding what this particular piece of earth wanted to teach me. Every grower knows: you don't just farm the land. The land farms you.

In 2015, Sandy's Way Microfarm officially launched with eight 24-inch by 25-foot planting beds. I grew what I could, sold what I grew, and learned from every failure. Colorado soil isn't suited for most vegetables. The weather is unpredictable. I had to earn every lesson the hard way.

2015–today

From eight beds to sixty-six

From those original eight beds, the farm has grown to sixty-six 30-inch by 50-foot garden beds, three high tunnels, and nearly 13,000 square feet of production space. We became the only Certified Naturally Grown farm producing vegetables for direct-to-consumer sales in Douglas County.

The Community Harvest Hub carries everything I'd feed my own family — and I do. Certified Naturally Grown vegetables, locally raised beef and chicken, pastured eggs, artisan bread, Einkorn flour, Palisade fruit, local cheese, and Rome Sausage Company products. One order. Every local producer I trust.

The team

Jason

Jason is my close friend and right-hand man on the farm. He calls the fields his "spacious place." Some people need an office. Jason needs a row of carrots and open sky.

He's out here because he believes in this the same way I do — not because it's easy, but because it matters. When you visit the farm, you'll probably meet him before you meet me.

Why I farm

I still wear the badge. I still show up for the soil.

I work full-time in law enforcement. I also farm because I believe this community deserves better food, and somebody has to grow it.

The industrial food system ships produce thousands of miles and calls it fresh. I harvest the morning you get it. The grocery store sells varieties bred for shelf life. I grow heirloom and open-pollinated varieties chosen for flavor — because I know the difference and so will you.

I don't farm the plants. I farm the soil. I've spent over a decade building living soil in Douglas County, and I test it more than most farmers think is necessary. Carrots grown in dead soil taste like it. Mine don't.