in apple population genetics - and his current project, a Prescott-area cidery called Stoic Cider. He tells me about his past academic projects - he has a Ph.D. Kanin, who’s 37, drives deeper into the mountains. What Kanin seeks is far more fleeting and beautiful: lost apples. He’s thinking about gold, but not the precious metal struck here in ages past, drawing a flood-tide of settlers to these wilds near Prescott in the late 19th century. He’s thinking about trees, but not the pines. His mind’s eye is on something else, a parcel secreted away in the forest below. He hardly notices as black Angus cattle appear ahead, then trot away. His gray Tacoma vibrates, bounces, and banks with the tight curves of the dust-powdered slopes. ![]() What the founder of Stoic Cider sees is pines, a forest of six-story ponderosa pines in the Bradshaw Mountains. ![]() Kanin Routson grips his steering wheel and looks out from the ancient railway grade and across the valley.
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