At first, Spencer and Chelsey Butterfield were hesitant to share their little patch of heaven.
Their few hundred acres of farmland, seated just to the west of Hyrum Reservoir, sit on a hill mere minutes outside the small town’s center — and seemingly worlds away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
But eventually, after hearing their loved ones’ repeated pleas, they opened Golden Hour Farm to the public and hired River Heights native Jade Swan to direct horse rides through their herd of Highland cattle.
“We kind of just shifted,” Spencer said. “We want to share this type of lifestyle, and this Western world and this Western way of living.”
Spencer and Chelsey are among a growing group of farmers in Cache Valley who engage in agritourism — often described as any activity in which farmers draw outsiders to their land, though the exact definition varies in different places.
The practice not only gives people firsthand experiences that remind them where their food comes from, but also often brings in money that is less dependent on a volatile world market than traditional farming revenue.
It’s one tool that may support farms amid generational shifts, and some hope it will help Cache Valley keep the agricultural roots and open space that give the community its distinct character, especially in the face of rapid growth and development.
In 2022, farms and ranches throughout the country brought in more than $1.25 billion through agritourism, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Though the USDA didn’t publish specific numbers for each county, the study showed that Cache County farmers made between $600,000 and $1.5 million. Throughout Utah, the study found that 249 farms generated almost $13.7 million through the practice.
Experts in the field, however, warn that it can be hard to navigate a patchwork of rules and zoning laws. On top of that, agritourism requires business and hospitality know-how that extends beyond farming.
Opening paradise to the public
Descending a hill into the pasture where the Butterfields’ cattle were grazing the morning of March 26, the horses carefully picked their footsteps as their riders guided them to the herd of Highland cattle. The sun — which had made its way above the horizon about an hour earlier — danced along the distant mountains, and glistened on the newborn cows’ shiny coats of auburn hair.
Golden Hour Farm was Chelsey’s dream. After Chelsey followed Spencer around Europe for years as he played professional basketball, the couple decided it was her turn to choose the next adventure.
Spencer — now a professional team roper competing in rodeos across the U.S. — traded basketball shorts and arena games for a cowboy hat and lasso. The couple bought their first 60 acres in 2020, and started raising cattle to sell for meat or as breeding stock.
Since they started offering horse rides in 2024, Spencer said it’s become a bigger and bigger part of their revenue. This season, he expects it to make up 30-40% of the money they bring in.
“In the summertime, we can really focus on the trail rides,” Chelsey said. “The cows just kind of get to graze and chill.”
Roots of agritourism
University of Vermont professor Lisa Chase said people have always gathered on farms for events and celebrations, but it was in her state where the concept of agritourism really took off in the U.S.
“What’s really new today is the disconnect with agriculture for most of the U.S. and most of the industrialized world,” she said. “Today, less than 2% of the U.S. workforce is actually employed on farms.”
Agritourism, she said, was born as people grew up away from where their food grows. In the ‘70s and ‘80s, the Italian government saw that their country’s centuries-old agricultural buildings were falling apart. In 1985, the nation’s lawmakers created financial incentives for people who wanted to restore the properties, and for farmers willing to use the aging structures to host tourists. It was called “agritourismo.”
In the ‘90s, Chase said “agritourismo” evolved into agritourism in the U.S. when Vermont dairy farmer Beth Kennett — who ran a bed-and-breakfast — started teaching other farmers about the concept.
“She realized, ‘Oh! They actually love … seeing our calves and milking our cows, and they love learning about agriculture,” Chase said. “This is something that people really want to experience.”
The term has since been codified in many states throughout the country as the practice has spread while farmers look for additional income in rough markets.
In a survey conducted by the University of Vermont from November 2019 to February 2020, 1,834 farms throughout the nation reported that they were involved in agritourism.
Of the respondents, 69% reported that they were looking to expand their agritourism ventures. Of the farmers who participated, 75% noted that they were profiting from agritourism, though not every farm involved in the study prioritized revenue as an important goal in their agritourism venture.
Community challenges
Although farmers like the Butterfields have seen benefits from agritourism, the practice doesn’t come without its hurdles.
Agritourism alone hasn’t supported Golden Hour’s growth. Spencer — who primarily works as a developer — said it has required him to develop some of the land they’ve bought.
“It’s probably been one of the hardest things that I battle in my life,” he said. “When I retired and wanted to get into farming and ranching, I just couldn’t find land. … In order to cover some of that cost, I had to develop portions.”
For example, he said, when he was finally able to buy about 200 acres in Wellsville near 6500 South and 3200 West, he had to start dividing and developing it to hold on to at least half of it.
“I try to be really mindful,” he said. “I’m doing between 5- and 10-acre lots so that people that have dreams of having land and having horses and cows, they can still do it.”
Many forms of agritourism also require farmers to step out of their traditional expertise.
“Agritourism is definitely not for everybody,” Chase said. “It requires different skills, different sets of experience, and you’re going to have people on your farm, which some people want, other people really don’t want.”
Zoning and permitting limitations, she added, can also prove challenging. In short, farmers can’t plan around a set of standards because everywhere is a little different.
“Community leaders need to decide what’s OK and what’s not OK,” she said.
In March, Hyrum City passed an ordinance specifying what sizes of farms can engage in what kinds of agritourism. The ordinance also requires conditional use permits for agritourism endeavors.
The new rules, according to city planner Tony Ekins, came after he was approached by a family seeking a way to start a venue on their farm — an idea city leaders supported, though they wanted to codify restrictions and requirements to address some of their concerns, like noise.
“Looking into Cache Valley, there’s not a lot of precedent here for the ordinance,” said Hyrum City Council member Rebecca Foulger. “Some have crafted some laws and regulations around agritourism, and others haven’t really even addressed it.”
Through requiring conditional use permits, she said the city can limit sounds, require setbacks, and reduce “anything that would be considered a nuisance.”
“We don’t want to create or approve something that’s going to cause a significant impact to surrounding neighbors,” she said. “Things that would detract from the rural feel and the culture that we have here in Hyrum.”
Foulger added that as cities in Utah are pushed to allow for more housing developments, agritourism can be an avenue to economically viable preservation for farmers looking to keep their land.
“It’s allowing, again, our farmers to preserve their lands, to give them other opportunities to create revenue streams,” she said. “It is a real balancing act to try to maintain the rural community that we love.”
Communities across the state are embracing agritourism, according to Caroline Hargraves, a spokesperson for the Utah Department of Agriculture and Food.
Early studies from Utah’s Office of Tourism, she said, indicate there are likely hundreds of farms pursuing agritourism ventures here.
The state, wanting to help farmers as they find much-needed ways to bring in additional revenue, has passed laws protecting them from liability from “inherent risks” people face when engaging in agritourism, so long as farmers post proper signs, give appropriate warnings and don’t have wanton disregard for safety, she said.
The state has also started a directory where people like the Butterfields can advertise their farms, she said.
“Preserving working farms is more important than ever,” she said. “Everyone’s well aware of the housing development pressures our state is facing, and if agritourism can keep more farms in operation … I think that’s amazing.”