No one in the Schoch family bats an eye when strange cars pull into their driveway. Most park near a building in the back, hop out and put their money in one of two old coffee cans that say "Milk $4" or "Eggs $4/doz."
Every other day, married couple Casey and Dave Schoch stock refrigerators at the front of their small plant with 140 half-gallon bottles of milk. Their customers are Intel employees on their way home from work or families who live near Helvetia, where the family has owned a farm for two generations.
The Schochs used to run a 200-cow herd around the clock to produce 100 gallons each day, milk they would sell to Darigold, a dairy cooperative. But the cows were constantly sick, they couldn't go outside and their high-energy feed cost too much.
So the family downsized their business the old-fashioned way. Dave Schoch bought a 1950s era bottling machine and fixed it by hand. They started feeding their smaller herd of 20 organic cows a diet of hay, instead of grain.
And they created a Kickstarter.
The crowdfunding website might not sound like old-school technology, but the Schochs started it with old-school intent: They wanted to be supported by their community, and this was a way for their Hillsboro-area neighbors to do just that.
The Schoch Dairy & Creamery is one of few glass-bottle creameries and even fewer small-scale dairies in Oregon.
The Schochs were initially skeptical of Kickstarter. But after watching a few other successful agriculture projects get funded, they started their campaign, working social media and farmers markets. They raised $50,345, topping their $48,700 goal.
Much of the money came from customers, family and friends. Unexpected sources popped up, such as one check from England, where a woman with a sheep farm liked their idea.
A year and a half later, after exhausting all the Kickstarter money and then some, the Schochs are up and running. They aren't paying all the farm's bills from the glass-bottle milk operation, but with about 15 customers a day, they are optimistic.
These days, customers bring their kids and stop into the barn to greet their favorite Holstein, shorthorn or Jersey, who eye strangers suspiciously while slowly munching hay. They all have names, because 4-H students raise them as projects. On a grey December morning, if a customer came, they could wave to Dave Schoch, who could be seen through the window that connects the bottling facility to the retail area.
He grew up on the dairy farm. When his parents decided to sell, he quit his mechanical engineering job so he could return. His former occupation comes in handy, like when he rebuilt the vintage bottling machine based on a government video showing milk processing in the 1950s. It acts up sometimes, thick white milk splashing against the concrete floor. That quiet December morning, the bottles rotated through the machine smoothly. Nate Schoch, his son home on winter break from Oregon State University, hand-labeled them with expiration dates.
He stacked them in blue crates and wheeled them on a bright yellow dolly to his mom, who paused her job washing the empties to refill the fridge.
The Schochs like doing everything themselves. They felt cramped with 200 cows and several employees stuffed onto the 75-acre farm. The milk is pricier and the hours can be long, but the freshness appeals to people who want more connection to their staples.
"We're trying to fill a niche market. We can't compete with Costco or Fred Meyer," Dave Schoch said. "People like coming out here and seeing the cows in the pasture."
Casey Schoch nodded and gestured toward the road, where Hillsboro is a short drive away. "I think people are so removed from their food source."