My disclaimer to this article is that I grew up and learned gardening in the fertile soil of middle Ohio in Amish Country. The soil was rich and fertile and we had long, hot summers with corn that was literally as “high as an elephant’s eye”. Nights were warm, rain was plentiful and our gardens were full of tomatoes as big as grapefruits, peppers, lettuce, radishes, cucumbers and any and all herbs. Life was good and the smell of the fresh earth was better in my nostrils than anything Coco Chanel ever imagined.
Fast forward 50 years and a lifetime to a well-kept secret north of the 45th parallel at the southern shore of Lake Superior called Michigan’s Upper Peninsula or U.P. to anyone who knows anything. The inhabitants of this lovely little bit of heaven are affectionately referred to as “Yoopers”. They are hardy, many of Finnish or Swedish descent, they love Cornish Pasties, a throw-back to the early British settlers who came here and worked the iron and copper mines, and they think nothing of annual snowfalls in excess of 220 inches, and a growing season that only lasts from June through August!
Retiring here from a short stay in upstate New York, I prided myself in being able to grow “anything”. I wintered over begonias and veggies in my basement under grow lights, misting them daily and figured that as long as I had soil, water, and sunlight, growing in the U.P. would be a snap.
Reality can be so cruel sometimes. I remember my first year here. Spring arrived, or so I thought, in late April. Temps were warm, in the high 50s during the day and the sun was shining brightly for over two weeks. I happily ran off to the local farm for some starts, and proceeded to put my flowers and cold hardy crops into the rich, black soil I have due to our woodland location. Two days later a “typical” spring snow came, dumping 4 feet on my little plots of ground that I had covered with plastic because of the frost I expected with the forecast. Needless to say, everything died. OK, no big deal. I decided to wait a few weeks to “be sure”.
Long story short, spring in the U.P. is not like anything I’d ever seen except maybe in the classic film Dr. Zivago. Frosts in late June or as early as August, ground that is so cold and wet that green scum forms on the top while all the herbalists in the “south” are gloating over all their new greenery. Alberta Clippers from Canada that can make even a die hard cold weather proponent like myself long for palm trees and palmetto bugs are not at all uncommon.
To say that gardening in the UP is a challenge is an understatement. Any many have given up the fight to resign themselves to a few bulbs in spring and some hardy potted plants the rest of the year. I, however, am not of that persuasion. Failure is not an option. So while I wade through the scores of e-mails rejoicing at the arrival of spring, and plot my revenge, I am employing my own special tactics to ensure plenty of work during the summer a full harvest in the fall.
No one in their right mind plants anything serious here before May 30, and if they do, they are in cold frames or in greenhouses, if you happen to enjoy that luxury. I start my herbs and plants in trays under real grow lights. The sunlight in this part of the country, even in my sunroom, is not enough to keep them from getting leggy, so they get the real thing. I also pay particular attention to the “days to maturity” on any plants that I buy or order, since anything more than 70 days is probably NOT going to survive here.
Our Hardiness Zone is rated 3-4 here, but on some maps we are lumped together with the Lower Peninsula, which is a 5-6, so paying attention to that little detail will also save headaches. Many folks here suffer with clay soil, but ours is an ideal sandy loam. So soil amendments are almost a must here. Lots of good organic matter is the best thing for the clay in these parts. However, it can’t be added all at once if you want good results. The best way is to add the compost or manure at the start of the season. Work that in really well and then repeat in the fall. This should be done every year.
Those who are blessed with greenhouses can start their plants much earlier and extend the growing season by several weeks. But, for those of us who are still dreaming of a new greenhouse kit for Christmas, indoor starts under artificial lights and then moved to the cold frames are the best solution.
The only thing I grow in the ground here is the perennial herbs. Those I pretty much leave to themselves to flourish wherever they like. The few raised boxes I have are filled with wonderful soil from the woods and have lids with wood frames and panes of plexi-glass. These ensure that even if the snow comes, it won’t crush the plants inside. I can raise the lids during the day to allow for ventilation and close them up at night for warmth. I also strategically place large river rocks or flint from the property in the bed to help hold the heat.
Row covers and hot caps are another solution if you choose not to make the raised beds, but I love the versatility of the lidded beds and they are much easier to handle than trying to spread out row covers. Plus, if the unexpected happens, which is almost a guarantee here; the plants are much better protected.
I have come to the point where I grow many of my plants in pots on the porch. I have pots with tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, peppers and all the greens I want. Potatoes, squash, and melons grow in half whiskey barrels. Between the deer and the occasional snow dump that can devastate, I’ve decided that a large garden surrounded by 6 foot fencing is not an option for us. Also, we now live on the river, which flooded last year to 9 feet over its borders! If necessary, everything can be put in the garage overnight or in my small greenhouse.
All that to say, that no matter where you live, you can certainly have a garden. You just need to work with nature rather than against it! Even apartment dwellers can enjoy pots on the balcony and beautiful spring mixes in a hanging basket by the kitchen window. So get some green into your life and enjoy your harvest, no matter how big or small. Until next time:
Keep em green and growing!
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