Picking with a ring, Sept, 1975: Wenatchee, WA

It felt serendipitous, when the van that stopped for us contained a crew from western Washington who were headed to Wenatchee for picking jobs, They lived on the Olympic peninsula in various sorts of abodes, mostly alternative. They seemed part of the back to the land movement that nevertheless had need for money occasionally. They told me that where they lived most work was in the timber industry. That was not suitable, since it required a full time commitment and could not be attempted casually. They heard picking was short term and awarded daily pay.
As we pulled into town it was notable that the farm laborer bureau was in a trailer right next to railroad tracks at a tight turn that made trains slow almost to a crawl, convenient for anyone hopping on or off. Luckily we had our own vehicle. In the office we saw an ad for immediate need for laborers to pick pears. We hurried away. When we arrived all four of us approached the boss who asked, “Any of you guys ring picked?” One of our crew quickly responded, “Sure, lots.” “Good, here’s your rings and those are your trees,” he pointed to a straggly row of pear trees. As we made walked toward our assignment, we questioned the one who had said he had experience. He did not. He admitted he said that so we would get the job. We did. Now we had to figure out what to do with the pair of two and a half inch diameter metal rings we had been given.
As newcomers, it seemed again, we were offered the barest fruits to pick. As we made our way there, an old-timer filled us in on our task. In picking, you slipped one of your rings over the pear. If it went past, you slipped it off and did not harvest that pear. If the pear was too big to let the ring past, that one you harvested. You were given two rings so that you could work with both hands. This method offered a sure way to size fruit as it was being picked. We were in reality doing two jobs: the pay was small. Even after getting the hang of it, combining our efforts we were barely able to fill two four foot cube boxes with harvest. We were paid thirty dollars per box. We felt disappointed at days end to realize fifteen dollars apiece for our labors. We collected our pay and headed off to camp by a stream. We spent the evening discussing our fortunes or lack thereof. We pretty much decided to not return to the pear trees. Even though one of the old-timers claimed he made sixty dollars each day, he stated it took him a whole season to get to that level. We were not willing to put in a whole year learning to earn a paltry wage for such difficult labor. The only hope glimmered on the news that a large apple orchard was beginning its harvest tomorrow and their trees were groaning with fruit. We went to bed determined that tomorrow would be a better day.
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