Catie Farr was barely into her first semester at Penn State Altoona when she decided that she wanted to drop out and enroll in culinary school instead. But she says, “that wasn’t in my parents’ plan for me.”
So, she stayed put, changing her major a few times before graduating with a degree in environmental studies in 2016. Even then, Farr had no idea what she wanted to do with that degree.
She remained at the job she’d been working while in school and thought about maybe one day living on a farm and operating a small farm-to-table enterprise. Time passed. She got married and had two baby boys.
Then her husband inherited some property in Unityville, Pennsylvania, way on the east side of the state in Lycoming County. With an old farmhouse to live in and land they could plant on, Farr thought her dream might come true. The family moved in January 2020, excited for their new adventure.
Before they even had a fair chance to succeed, the coronavirus pandemic hit. Farr says they were stuck in the middle of nowhere amid a global epidemic and shut down, trying to renovate a house and rework the land while prices of everything from food to lumber skyrocketed.
“It was just never going to be what we wanted it to be with all of the challenges and unknowns we were facing.”
So, they sold the property, packed up, and moved back to Hollidaysburg in 2023, now with a third son and a new direction.
Recall the great sourdough frenzy of 2020-21; a cultural phenomenon of sorts where millions of people in lockdown were suddenly very much into baking sourdough bread. Fueled by social media trends, people turned to the activity as a comforting hobby and way to pass the extra time on their hands.
Farr was one of those people. It was something to help keep her busy while stuck at home, feeling lost and anxious. She found she enjoyed it and was good at it, experimenting with dough and flavors and churning out tasty loaves and bagels.
As the family settled back in Hollidaysburg, as her husband established his water and wastewater instrumentation small business, and as her youngest son neared entrance into preschool, Farr’s mind was turning over, giving rise, like her sourdough, to an idea.
A sampling of Catie Farr’s fresh-baked bagels.
Credit: Marissa Carney
She was thinking about starting her own business. There was a lot to work through, though. Would people be interested in her fresh, sourdough products—enough to make an income that would support her family? How could she stand out among similar businesses? Where could she find a kitchen to work out of?
We’ll skip through all of the grunt work and get right to the good stuff. Farr told herself this was something she wanted to do, so she made it happen.
In September 2025, Wild Rise Sourdough Bagel Company found a home at Boro, a traditional Italian coffee shop in downtown Hollidaysburg.
Farr says with her background in environmental studies, she’s always felt pulled toward what’s natural and real. She carries those same values into the kitchen, using her own sourdough starter for everything she bakes.
If you’re looking for a scientific explanation about how to make starter dough from scratch, how to keep it alive, and what to do with it, you will not find those answers here.
Just know that every item Farr makes is naturally leavened with wild sourdough culture. No commercial yeast.
“I love feeding people, and I think that beautiful, honest food made by hand still matters. The process—the fermenting slowly, shaping with care, baking with intention—is an act of love.”
People have taken notice. Farr says not even a year into it, she’s already established a solid customer base through online custom orders as well as through wholesale to Boro, Hard Bean Café in Altoona, and The Vault in Roaring Spring.
Catie Farr shows off fresh-baked plain and everything bagels.
Credit: Marissa Carney
Confidence has never been a problem for Farr when it comes to her baking, and that gives her the freedom to explore creativity.
In November, she released a line of Thanksgiving-themed products, including a stuffing-flavored bagel, a creamed corn bagel, and an apple pie bagel. They each could be eaten on their own or used as the base for leftover turkey sandwiches.
“They sold like hotcakes, and I was like, ‘You know what? I know what I'm doing with this business.’”
Leading up to Valentine’s Day, Farr made chocolate bagels and strawberry cream cheese. She created a potato bagel with sharp white cheddar and smoked Gouda cheese for Saint Patrick’s Day and explored Easter bread bagels and jellybean bagels for Easter.
Nothing but natural ingredients, handmade food, and joy here.
Credit: Marissa Carney
Farr says she knew people would be satisfied with her products, but she didn’t expect to have quite such an impact on their days. She figured they’d just get their items to satisfy their hunger and be on their way to their next destination and task.
But that was not the case.
She’s heard customers talking with Boro baristas about her food. She’s seen them actually pause over their bagel, scone, or cinnamon roll—no phone, no laptop, just fully appreciating a quiet moment with really good food.
“I’ve never aspired to be humble,” Farr jokes. “So that certainly feeds my pride. It’s the most exciting part of my job.”
Farr’s life right now is pure chaos. In December, she and her husband officially adopted a baby girl they had been fostering. If you’re keeping track, that’s four kids, (three of whom are in school and play hockey), two dogs, and two small independent businesses, one of which revolves around orders and slow rise dough affected by many factors including temperatures and humidity.
But Farr digs in, her heart and work ethic mighty.
Some of that diligence and drive was instilled in her during her days at Penn State Altoona. Farr says she had fantastic professors who cared about her as a person and a student, always holding her to the highest standards in class and during her two internships.
“My experience at Penn State Altoona shaped me as a person. At 19, 20, I was doing things other college kids were, but I still wanted to do right by my professors who believed in me. They didn’t accept anything other than my best, and that absolutely plays a role in my work ethic now.”
She didn’t go to culinary school. She’s not operating a farm-to-table. But Farr says what she’s doing now is better than anything she imagined for herself all those years ago.
As for the future, she hopes to eventually open her own breakfast joint someday.
Much like the idea of Wild Rise itself, where and when that happens will rise in its own slow, intentional way.
“I'm super happy. It really is like every day I get up, and I'm living my dream, and it's awesome.”
