Anchorage Daily News

WASILLA -- The day begins at 4 a.m. on Jean and Bob Havemeister's farm on Bogard Road with the first milking of their herd of more than 100 dairy cows.

Twelve hours later, the udder-heavy cows tromp back into the milk parlor for another round.

These days, though, there's often a third chore -- taking that same milk, up to 500 gallons a day -- and pouring it on their field.

"I can't even believe it. It's like I'm in a bad dream," said Jean Havemeister. "It kills me to dump milk."

She's not alone. Now that the Matanuska Maid dairy is no longer in business and the Northern Lights Dairy in Delta Junction can take only a trickle of their milk, the other three remaining dairy farmers in the Matanuska-Susitna Borough are in the same fix.

Wayne Brost, a Point MacKenzie dairyman since 1995, recently dumped two weeks' worth of milk, the equivalent of about $12,000.

That sounds like farmers are throwing in the towel, but they're not through yet.

Just a few miles from the Havemeisters' farm, in a small, tan building off the Palmer-Wasilla Highway, a former grocery store is being transformed into a new dairy that plans to sell cheese, milk and ice cream -- all made with local milk.

It's the dairy farmers' best hope for a new market. But it's an untested operation with an uncertain future that doesn't expect to sell its first block of cheese and jug of milk until later this spring.

NEW DAIRY IS BORN

On a recent Tuesday, the building was a hive of activity as welders, plumbers and electricians worked feverishly to transform the former grocery store by installing milk tanks, boilers and a testing laboratory.

At the center of it all, juggling schematics and doling out instructions, was Kyle Beus, a compact man with a soft voice and penchant for long-winded answers. As dairy manager, he has emerged as the savior of the local dairy industry.

Two years ago, he surrendered his own dairy farm at Point MacKenzie to the state after falling behind on loan payments. Not long before that, a traffic accident left his then 14-year-old daughter, Brooke, near comatose.

Beus has emerged as a constant in the turmoil left for dairy producers in the wake of Mat Maid's closing in December. He shows up at state Creamery Board meetings and state Board of Agriculture and Conservation meetings, speaking in quiet, measured tones about his vision for saving the dairy industry in Alaska.

He knows the downside of dairying all too well, but Beus also knows the upside. Before moving to Alaska, he ran a successful country store and dairy farm in Pasco, Wash.

A farmer in Alaska since 1995, Brost has nothing but praise for Beus. No one else stepped forward to start a new dairy, Brost said. And Beus already had enough on his plate with his daughter and a Wasilla restaurant he and his wife run.

In person, Beus is enthusiastic. During a tour of the emerging dairy, he pointed to a blueprint of the plant but clearly didn't need it as he talked of where trucks will off-load milk; where it will be separated into tanks for 2 percent, non-fat and whole milk; and the room where the cheese will be aged.

He envisions a retail space where visitors can stop in for ice cream and buy local produce. He showed off windows for a processing room set low for the schoolchildren who will eventually tour the plant. He said he hopes to start taking milk to make cheese before March ends.

Beus said he's convinced consumers will support the local milk operation. He points to the national interest in organic foods and the growing movement to eat locally produced food rather imports that have been shipped thousands of miles.

"We live 2,500 miles from the mainland and in the world we live in we have the ability to produce local food, so why not," he said.

Helping out the states' farmers is just as important for him, he said.

"It's not about saving just four dairy farmers," he says, repeating what has become a mantra for him. "Very literally, as strenuously as I can say it, this is about 15 or 20 family farms that are affected. The reason I'm so passionate about it is because that's how I was born and raised and these are friends and acquaintances. ... Not to mention it's the right thing to do."

THINKING SMALL

The enterprise benefited from an infusion of $643,000 in federal funds, but Beus said he is convinced enough of its success that he's poured in about $200,000 of his family's own money.

Still, conviction goes only so far. Alaska agriculture has seen success, but it is also littered with failures. Proponents note that the size of the operation works in Beus' favor.

Mat Maid was handicapped by an oversized plant. To run efficiently, it needed far more milk than local farmers could produce. That meant buying milk in the Lower 48. And the company had difficulty reducing costs when its sales fell, said Joe Austerman, a state employee who ran the plant before its demise.

Beus' operation, in contrast, is maybe half as large and can better tailor its costs to production. Beus also has the ability to make cheese, which allows him to turn the perishable milk into a product that can sit on a shelf and be sold at leisure.

Beus plans to target a niche market, aiming his milk at people who want to buy local products and selling it at a premium, which will help him cope with the added costs of doing business in Alaska. It's a strategy recommended by an ad hoc dairy committee appointed by the governor in 2006 to study the state's dairy industry.

Not only will Beus have to find enough people to buy it at the higher price, he will also have to find stores willing to stock it. Austerman suggested seeking out retailers that cater to consumers looking for natural foods.

Brost said he sees reasons to be optimistic although he acknowledges it's more a gut feeling than anything else.

"From all the calls I've had and people I've talked to there is so much positive (about buying local)," he said.

Jean Havemeister also has hope. After three months with only an occasional paycheck, she hates to think about continuing to dump milk. Even more depressing is imagining an Alaska without dairy farmers.

"We've had lot of obstacles. I just think that in the end," she said. "God is going to bless us. We need this land."

Find S.J. Komarnitsky at adn.com/contact/skomarnitsky or 352-6714.

Milk machines

The average cow produces about:

2,305 gallons

of milk a year or about 8 gallons of milk every day of her milking period.

Up to

64 quarts

of milk or 256 glasses a day

or

14 pounds

of cheese

or

5 gallons

ice cream

or

6 pounds

of butter

Cows drink

25-50 gallons

of water each day

Cows eat

90 pounds

of food a day.

Source: U.S. Department of Agriculture

DAIRY FARMING IN ALASKA

The Matanuska Valley received its first shipment of cows in June, 1935. Dairy farming in Alaska peaked in 1958 with 72 farms.

The state undertook an ambitious plan in the early 1980s to encourage development of commercial farms at Point MacKenzie, but the project failed. More recently, the Matanuska Maid Dairy in Anchorage, the main purchaser of milk in the state, closed in December. Just six dairy farms remain today in the state -- four in the Matanuska-Susitna Borough and two in Delta Junction.

Sources: Daily News archives; Cooperative Extension Service, UAF; "Matanuska Colony".