The Farm’s Keeper: How Kait Thornton Became the New Face of an Old Industry

Photography by Kyle J Yunker of Zero Five Photography

Before the sun crests over Tonasket, Washington, Kait Thornton is already wide awake, not scrolling, not recording, but praying. Most mornings begin with scripture and a cup of coffee with her dad, her best friend, and business partner. On their fourth-generation orchard, faith is more than a value. It’s a throughline. So is grit.

Kait, known to her hundreds of thousands of followers as @apple.girl.kait, is not the kind of influencer who set out to be one. She is a fourth-generation apple and pear farmer. A storyteller. A businesswoman. A girl who grew up climbing trees and now climbs spreadsheets. She is both the child of a legacy and the architect of its future. And in a world where agriculture is too often overlooked, she’s making it seen, honestly and unapologetically.

“It’s a lot of responsibility,” she says. “Each generation has faced something. My generation’s struggle is managing expansion, regulation, and keeping it all sustainable. We almost lost the farm six years ago, and I don’t intend on losing it in my lifetime. I don’t take what we do here lightly.”

Her family farm has grown from 23 acres to over 400. Her biggest challenge now? Maintaining it. Navigating debt. Keeping a loyal crew. And making decisions that could ripple through future generations. All while being a 23-year-old woman in an industry still largely run by men.

“I think people see me online and assume I’m on a tractor all day,” she says. “But right now, what the farm really needs from me is leadership. I’m focused on learning how to manage, make informed decisions, and build systems that will sustain us in the long term. That doesn’t always look exciting on social media, sometimes it’s just me, at a desk, crunching numbers. But you can still catch me on a tractor, getting my hands dirty. I haven’t lost that part of myself. It’s just not my everyday anymore, and that’s okay.”

Kait’s entrepreneurial spirit was evident from an early age. At 15, she launched Kait’s Crates, selling fresh fruit via Facebook Marketplace. “My dad was like, ‘I’ll be impressed if you sell 20 boxes.’ I sold 44,” she laughs. By high school, she was delivering orders during lunch and using the money to help pay for her college expenses.

After college, she came back home. Her dad couldn’t afford to pay her. “I still wanted to live on the farm. I intend to take it over one day. But I had to figure out how to support myself.”

So, she turned to social media. First, out of necessity. Then, out of a vision for what it could provide for her, the farm, and its future.

That’s where brand partnerships came in. Kait’s work with companies like Busch Light and Kawasaki now makes up her income, not only allowing her to stay on the farm without taking a salary from it, but also helping secure its future. “Every deal has to make sense,” she says. “I won’t say yes just because it’s big. It has to serve the farm or the people watching.”

She started sharing her daily life on the orchard, the good and the gritty. In one video, she breaks down what the USDA requires for worker housing. In another, she jokes about wearing the same hoodie all week. “I post when I feel good,” she says. “And when I don’t, I let myself rest.”

Her followers often say they feel like they’re sitting in the passenger seat with her, riding through the rows, hearing her think out loud. Kait doesn’t just document her work; she opens a door to her world for the public. Her comment sections are filled with curious questions: What does organic really mean? How does irrigation work? What’s the difference between apple varieties? And she answers them with the patience of a teacher and the perspective of someone who knows farming is about more than growing fruit. For many, Kait is the first real farmer they’ve ever “met."

“There’s so much fear-mongering around food,” she says. “I just want people to feel good. I want them to trust farmers again. To ask questions, and I am happy to answer to the best of my ability and share my knowledge.”

She’s not trying to be perfect, just real. She’s open about boundaries. She knows when to share and when to stay quiet. She speaks directly, kindly, firmly, even to trolls. “People are watching how I respond,” she says. “So, I try to make it a positive space, even when it’s hard.”

But being a leader at 23 comes with more than just a to-do list. There’s a quiet weight to the role Kait plays. The pressure to protect something older than herself, and to make it matter to the future. “It’s quiet work,” she says. “Not just the farming. The responsibility. I'm always wondering if I’m doing enough or doing it right. But I know I am trying my best.”

She’s currently renovating her great-grandparents’ home, built in 1937 across the river, a project she took on solo when her dad couldn’t. The foundation was cracked. The contractor bailed. She spent days clearing out a century’s worth of dust and family history, learning the rhythm of renovation by trial and error. “I had no clue what I was doing. But I am figuring it out,” she says. There’s something sacred in the process, she adds, scraping paint, laying pipe, making space for the next generation to dwell in the past.

That house might one day become seasonal worker housing. Or an Airbnb. Or a space for agrotourism. She’s still deciding. But preserving her family’s history matters. So does shaping its future.

“I’ve seen the ugliest sides of this industry,” she says. “But I still want to be part of it. That probably makes me crazy. Or stubborn. Or both.”

Every morning, after reading scripture, her dad hands her a cup of coffee. They sit. They talk. They argue, sometimes. She is a mirror of his flaws, his fire, his faith. And he sees it. “We butt heads. But we learn from each other,” she says. “And I think he sees now that everything he’s built won’t stop with him.”

Together, they dream. They dream of expanding the orchard. Of building a taproom in the old family warehouse off the highway. Of a roadside café with family photos on the walls. Of inviting people in to share a place they love so much.

In a time when agriculture is battling disconnection, from the public, from young people, from its own future, Kait isn’t just helping her family’s orchard survive. She’s showing the world what farming can look like when it's led with heart, strategy, and a willingness to share the journey openly, mess and all.

So why does Kait resonate? Because she shows up with her whole self. She speaks like someone who's been there, in the mud, in the meetings, in the moments of doubt, and still chooses to care. She reminds people that legacy isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.

“You know nonchalant people? Well, I’m the most ‘chalant’ person I know,” she says, laughing. “I get excited. I care. I want to do this right.”

She’s 23. She still answers her own DMs. She still delivers fruit. And she still dreams big.

“I am who I am because of who came before me and tended to this land,” Kait says. “And if I can carry that forward with heart and a little hustle, maybe that’s enough. I pray that is enough.”

Kait Thornton, Rapid Fire: 

Go-to apple? SugarBee for snacking, Cosmic Crisp for pairing.

Most therapeutic activity? Fishing.

Best part of harvest season? “Cold mornings, warm afternoons, and the energy of hand-picking with a full crew.”

Three words to describe herself right now: Genuine. Adventurous. Curious.