Upper Chilkat Valley Garden Tour

Haines Master Gardeners and friends toured four gardens Monday, July 28: Klukwan Community Garden, Lani Hotch's garden, the Gunn/Kistler Garden at 36 Mile, and the Ramsey garden at 9 Mile Haines Highway. There are a few pictures posted at the end of the blog.

I took away a sense that we eaters are in good hands.

Spinach bolts for me and my beets are bitty. Not so in the Klukwan Community Garden. Lani showed us the Savoy and New Zealand spinach with leaves bigger than my hand; and beets ready to eat. Mardell showed us kohlrabi, purple broccoli, and red ripe tomatoes.

Mandy introduced us to her pea experiment: she soaked some peas in ascorbic acid (Vitamin C) and some she just soaked. The peas are planted as side by side as possible to control for environmental differences. Neither was treated with innoculant. The vitamin C soaked peas are patently larger plants. Stay tuned to see if they produce more succulent peas! See the photo below.

We were lucky to have Charlotte Jewell come along with us. She was over for the Fair from Jewell Gardens in Skagway. I loved hearing Charlotte humbly offer the scientific names of plants. Centaura montana, what I call "wild bachelor button." I confessed to her that I have made, repeatedly, 3x5 cards identifying the scientific name of my crops and favorite flowers endeavoring to commit those elegant terms to memory - to no avail. Maybe it's because I don't understand the system. Why are cabbage and kale and rape coles and brassicas, but broccoli is only brassica? So much to learn. Charlotte has graciously invited us to tour Jewell Gardens. We organized quickly to take up her offer. Seventeen of us are Skagway bound Friday.

We were also accompanied by Darren Snyder from the Cooperative Extension Service, Juneau office, also in Haines for the Fair. We peppered Darren with questions about plants that seem to be diseased. Powdery mildew seemed to be a common affliction - perhaps because this season has been exceptionally moist and cool. This unattractive fungus literally sucks the life out of its host. Anchorage gardener and photographer, Fran Durner (Talk Dirt to Me, A Cure for Powdery Mildew?) writes that, "Once infected, it is unlikely you will ever rid your plant of the fungus though you can try to control it with good horticultural practices and fungicides, either commercial or organic." Based on the description of the disease cycle from Cornell University, it seems like it might be a good idea to just pitch out the infected plant.

The fungi which cause powdery mildew are spread by spores produced in the white patches. These spores are blown in the wind to other parts of the plant or to other plants during the growing season. ... During the winter the fungus survives on infected plant parts and in debris such as fallen leaves. It may produce resting structures known as cleistothecia, which resist harsh winter conditions. These will appear as small black dots within the white powdery patches. The next spring, sexual spores (ascopores) are released from the cleistothecia, shot up into the air, and carried by air currents to leaves of plants where new infections will begin. During the growing season, the fungus produces asexual spores (conidia) that help the fungus to spread and infection to build.

But if you are brave or just love that plant, cut off the diseased tissue, then try to dislodge some of those spores. Durner recommends hosing off the plant early in the morning to remove spores and then treating the plant with a fungicide. Fungicides don't have to be as nasty as they sound. Durner gives this recipe from the Integrated Pest Management Office of Alaska. (Here is the link to Alaska Integrated Pest Management, but the page labeled "Insects & Diseases" is currently "under construction." It's worth bookmarking the site, though. It should be valuable when it is finished.)

Mix 1 tablespoon baking soda, 2 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil with one gallon of water. Shake this up thoroughly. To this, add 1/2 teaspoon of pure castille soap. Spray the upper and lower leaf surfaces and spray some on the soil. Repeat every 5-7 days as needed.

I am sure that every gardener returning from the Upper Valley tour went home and inspected their own with a critical eye. I know that George Figdor did. And right away, he recognized powdery mildew on his zucchinis! Turning to the Internet, he discovered that a spray of skim milk, applied early in the morning is the recommended "fungicide." Others spray with milk as well. According to Durner, Camille Williams of the Anchorage Garden Club uses a mixture of 1 part milk (any kind) to 3 parts water for years.

And that's why we make these field trips: to learn from each other how to recognize and treat trouble before we are sunk. And to lavish praise and appreciation on the artistry and hard work underlying every single garden. Thanks so much to our hosts Lani Strong, Doris Peck, Bonnie Sears, Mardell Gunn, and Mandy Ramsey.

Will This Lasagna Recipe "Work"?

Check it out. What will happen to the seeds and pansy plant planted in the "lasagna garden" during the Southeast Alaska State Fair, July 25th? What will happen to the beds themselves? Will the 30-inch high beds de-compose significantly? When will the layers settle into 6-8 inches of workable soil as advertised?

Leanne Converse and I, two newly minted Alaskan Master Gardeners, constructed a 12 x 60 x 30 inch high lasagna bed in the Community Garden during the Southeast Alaska State Fair last Friday. Keeping our materials wet was easy. It rained. A lot.

We started "traditionally" with a 2-3 inch layer of cardboard and newspaper, soaked over night. Then we covered that that with a 2-inch layer of forest soil and peat moss. After that, we added a twist. We made stew: two batches - a huge carbon stew and another huge nitrogen stew. The carbon stew consisted of equal parts (by volume) of seaweed, leaves, straw, and shredded paper. The nitrogen stew was equal parts coffee grounds, kitchen scraps including egg shells, and grass clippings. So, our beds are layered as follows: carbon stew, soil/peat mixture, nitrogen stew, soil/peat mixture - repeated, ending with a carbon stew covered with a soil/peat mix.

Most "lasagna garden" instructions do recommend that you use a variety of nitrogen and carbon ingredients, but generally this is understood to be separate layers of different nitrogen mediums and separate layers of different carbon mediums. For example, you might have seaweed, soil, grass clippings, soil, straw, kitchen scraps, soil, and so on.

Will our "stew" approach make any difference - positive or negative? Belatedly, the Juneau agent for the Cooperative Extension Service, Darren Snyder, gently pointed out that it is going to be hard to tell since we did not build a "control" bed in the more typical fashion. Although I have thriving lasagna beds at home, built earlier this summer using single layers of each carbon or nitrogen rich element, they are not comparable to the bed Leanne and I built at the Fair given the differences in size, location, date of inception, and materials. If I were still teaching, I think I would propose a year long science project, setting up systematically varied beds this fall on the school grounds.

There are other questions too. For example, should a lasagna garden end with a soil covered nitrogen layer, or a soil covered carbon layer? We ended with a soil covered carbon layer, thinking that a nitrogen layer might grow too "hot," thus inhibiting the growth of the seeds or burning the roots of the plant. Leanne has a compost thermometer and plans to take the bed's temperature occasionally.

Try to stop by and check it out. Make some observations. Oh, and by the way, if you see some escaped shredded paper, please forgive us. That stuff is hard to control!

Slug and Moose Resistant Landscaping

I love hostas. And up 'til now I guess I've been fairly lucky. No rampaging slugs; no nibbling moose. I started to wonder why these two plagues had, for the most part, passed over my Kochu Cove garden.

Slugs are hosta enemy #1. Hostas and slugs share a preference for shady, moist environments. By some good fortune, I seem to have collected "slug resistant" hostas. This is purely accidental or maybe actually, when I think about it, probably the result of more informed nursery people. I knew I wouldn't remember either the common or botanical name - so I just tossed that little plastic tag that came with every one of the hostas I've purchased. Too bad. I'll bet those tags might have indicated that I was picking one of the slug resistant cultivars - which happily, also tend to be the most attractive - and though it may seem socially shallow, when gardening, beauty is my bottom line.

According to Flower Gardening Made Easy, if I had read those nursery tags, I might have noticed that the hostas I selected were labeled "slug resistant," "slug proof," or as having "good substance, " meaning "thick, dense leaves with a good waxy coating" making them somewhat impervious to slugs.

Hostas are generally classified into blues, greens, golds, and variegated.

• The blues that are most slug resistant are: "Elegans, "Krossa Regal," "Love Pat," "Blue Moon," "Blue angel," "Blue Umbrellas," and "Halcyon.
• Slug resistant gold varieties are "Gold Edger" and "Sum and Substance."
• The best slug resistent green varieties are "Invincible" abd Hosta tardiflora.
• In the variegated hostas, try "Reversed," "Shade Fanfare," or "Grand Master."

The blue leafed hostas are alledgedly the most slug resistant of all. Slug resistant - yes, so far; but not moose resistant. This hosta, the only one out of at least 50, was browsed the other night - though delicately - perhaps in a style deserved by so regal a plant.

Unfortunately, maybe the reason that this particular hosta attracted attention is a function of its variety. By deduction (because, as you know, I don't have the nursery tag), I have concluded that this is a "Blue Angel" - one of the largest varieties of hostas. And though you can't tell from the photo, it does out do the others in breadth and height. It's size may be its doom.

Although moose will go down on their knees or spread their legs like giraffes to feed at ground level, they are really built to feed at a certain height. I am betting that the giant "Blue Angel" was exactly the right height for the mooselings and high enough off the ground to be easy pickin's for mama.

But the question remains: why not sample the other 50+ hostas that pepper my landscape? Anchorage moose, at least, find hostas to be so tasty that a blogger for the Anchorage Daily News calls hostas, kale, cabbage, and tulips just before they bloom, "moose bait."

It might be the mint. Evidently, moose seem to hate the smell of mint. Some time ago, in my innocence (uh...ignorance, maybe?), I thought it would be nice to have some mint. I guess I should have limited it to a container. I didn't. It now pops up everywhere. Mint is incredibly invasive - and it may be protecting my beloved hostas. I hope so. It turns out that the moose munched blue is regally by itself - not a sprig of mint anywhere nearby. That will change. But I think what I'll do is put the mint in strategically placed containers this time.

You can find a list of plants, trees, and shrubs that are somewhat resistant to moose browse in the July 2004 issue of Under the Canopy, the Forestry and Forest Products Newsletter of the Alaska Cooperative Extension Service. I can vouch for the fact that moose have not eaten the following from my landscape:

• Columbine
• Larkspur (Delphinium)
• Foxglove
• Iris
• Narcissus, Daffodil
• Tulip (after it blooms)

In addition, I have also seen moose here give a pass to easily accessible Monarda (Bee Balm), Monkshood, Bishopsweed, Asiatic and Oriental Lilies, and Day Lilies. It seems like there are lots of landscaping choices that are not choice moose morsels - that is, if the moose isn't desperately hungry and if there is alternative foraging material - like the enormous field of fiddle head fern that borders the enclave I have carved out of the forest.

More Moose

I was just wrapping up a tender phone call with my beloved last night when I heard an unusual "clunk." I looked down from the 3rd floor just in time to see a mooseling trip across my deck, through a rock garden and down the path to the "kitchen" - which is how I've come to think of the area around my house.

I think I am glad I did not see Mama moose lead the way - which I am sure she did. However, she must have skirted the rock garden, while baby went straight through. Somehow all the damage that was done is one two-inch deep depression - with a squished pansy plant at the bottom. I've come to understand that the long stride of these animals mitigates damage. When moving, they pass over much - much better than the mess left behind by a roving porcupine. How the little one managed to avoid colliding with the trellis for the canary vine at the top of the rock garden beats me. But I'm grateful. It's one of the mysteries of human/wildlife interaction. Maybe they have sonar.

Though I love these animals; though my Medicine Cards tell me that moose medicine is "knowing what to say, when to say it, and to whom" - medicine which I sorely need - I wanted this particular moose family to move on. But the local pantry was just too appealing. I began to wonder if they had their eyes on the fresh straw I just used for garden mulch. It took me the better part of an hour - and the application of multiple methods - to convince them to leave.

As a last resort, I started my skill saw. It's very noisy. The little ones skittered away. Mama ambled after them completely unconcerned about the noise - only, presumably, about keeping her offspring in sight. But, as she went, she looked over her shoulder as if to say, "I'll be back." I am choosing to think that she is both pest and protector - as long as she is around, my more ferocious friend, the grizzly, isn't. That's good. I hope to never see them in the "kitchen" together. That might be a terrible mess.