We drove along the Columbia River passed the “Welcome to Oregon” sign and towards the smoky horizon and the smell of campfire. When I was growing up, the smell of campfire was the smell of family road trips in our VW van with s’mores, long hikes, and no showers. It meant a fun summer adventure. This year as we drove towards our new home, the smell of campfire brought tight terror into my chest. What was this? How will we work and grow Kasama Farm in these conditions?