Cider maker Steve Hughes could squeeze optimism out of a rock. His newly planted orchard in the windswept hills above Llandegla demands no less, planted at a height of 1,000ft when 400ft is normally the limit for growing apples.

He has 44 varieties and it is little exaggeration to say he knows all their names, history and characteristics. It began as a passionately pursued hobby. Now, due to his success in competitions, it is a small business.

As the wind leans on the sapling trees and we lean on it, Steve, 45, outlines his plans at Dafarn Dywyrch farm where his father, Jim, has raised cattle and sheep in a long tradition of family occupancy.

Two years ago Steve joined the Welsh Perry and Cider Society to develop his hobby. He recalls: "I made five gallons of cider, using mostly crab apples off the farm and sent off four bottles to enter a CAMRA competition at the Reading festival in February 2005.

"In April my mother, Gwen, took a telephone call and told me, Steve, you are in a bit of trouble. You've won the CAMRA national bottled cider competition and they want 200 bottles.

"I could only manage 12 because we'd drunk some. Call it quality assurance!" says Steve. He works as a shift manager for Ball Packaging on Deeside, but it's the cider-making that has captured his imagination and combined with his enthusiasm for restoring old things.

"I bought a lot of antique equipment. There was an old Herefordshire twin screw press for crushing the apples. I bought it in bits at a steam fair for £180 but it cost another £380 for the oak blocks needed to restore it." He made a concession to modernity in buying stainless steel parts that would not be eaten by the apple acid to produce toxins.

Also on the shopping list was a "scratter" which rips the small apples to pieces before they are pressed. It works off a tractor-driven belt.

Steve adds: "With my first batch of cider I did my scratting in a stainless steel milk bucket and a piece of wood. Actually, it was a new pick-axe handle. It's hard work and really knocks you about."

Last year he made 500 gallons and in May this year won a third place for his dry cider at the Royal Bath and West Open Show, beating many of the big name producers.

"I like to think," he says, "it shows that last year wasn't a fluke."

Out in the orchard where the ripening apples are clinging on in the tugging wind, Steve tells me he'd hoping to make 1,500 gallons this year which will be his limit under Customs and Excise regulations.

He reckons he's a fortnight away from a start because of the poor weather: "The apples are 40 per cent lower in sugar content this year, which means a lower alcohol content. What we do is collect and bag the apples and wait for the starch to begin to turn to sugar.

"A traditional way of checking ripeness is to shake the apple until the pips rattle. You can also check for a waxy feel to the apple's skin, or press your thumb in and see if the impression stays there. That's the optimum time for pressing.

"We have tried to grow a big variety known as sheep heads, but the crows liked them too much. As it is I expect to get about half the yield you would expect from a comparable orchard in a less exposed, less windy location."

Steve's wife, Nicola, and Rosie the Jack Russell, patrol the orchard every morning looking for windfalls and broken branches. He says they have just about got Rosie to the stage where she will only point her nose at a windfall and not pick it up, puncturing the skin and rendering it useless.

Rosie remains an important part of Steve's cider marketing plans. The labels on his bottles proclaim "Rosie's Triple D Cider". The "D" relates to the drovers who used to use a route close by Dafarn Dywyrch. Another visitor in the 1880s was George Borrow the author of Wild Wales.

Steve says he called at the farmhouse asking for beer and cheese and fell out with a Hughes ancestor who initially refused to serve him because he was English.

Apart from Rosie, Steve gets inspiration for cider names from unlikely sources. During an exhibition at Shrewsbury he was stung on the hand by a wasp and decided to name one of his tipples Wicked Wasp. Very appropriate. It doesn't sting but it can bite.

Steve supplies some cider to the ancient Blue Bell Inn at Halkyn where last year he made up a batch using apples provided by the regulars. He pressed 30 gallons, some was bottled and given to the customers, while the rest was available on draught as Rosie's Blue Bell cider.

He says: "Most of our cider is sold through brokers to festivals. We are not allowed to sell it from the farm."

Ultimately we arrive at the only question that matters. What does the cider taste like to a thirsty journalist battered by mountain winds and the yapping of an over attentive dog?

Well, it's dry, very flavoursome, full of the natural tastes of the countryside, and....definitely moreish as long as you aren't driving.

Steve says most commercial ciders are only 30 per cent apple juice. His are 100 per cent.

But then he's a 100 per cent sort of chap.