Dishing the dirt on northwoods gardening

I just came in from working in my vegetable garden. I planted my usual early season crops — lettuce. spinach and onion sets. I know; we are bound to have a killing frost before Mother Nature realizes summer is supposed to start Memorial Day, but since we don’t get spring anymore, who knows. These days, when it comes to gardening, those of us who grow edibles are forced into being unabashed risk-takers.

The fact is that planting, tending, harvesting and feeding my family with what I grow is deeply embedded in my DNA. I get a great deal of satisfaction, not to mention a large haul of organic produce, from several large pots and three small, raised bed gardens. It never ceases to fill me with wonder that you can plant tiny seeds and get delicious results with a little know-how and a bit of effort. Not only does it save money, you’re in control when it comes to dangerous chemicals that are still used in many countries that ship produce our way.

Yes, there is work involved, but I cannot imagine not planting a garden. I got my start early, thanks to my mother who taught me how to garden when I was growing up on our dairy farm in Sherwood. When I lived in Kaukauna, I had a huge garden and fruit orchard. When I transitioned to a residential neighborhood in Appleton, I created a small but bountiful garden in the backyard.

Naturally, when we retired in Townsend in 2002, a garden was the first thing I incorporated into the landscaping plan. I added three apple trees, including a Honey Crisp I purchased the first year that variety came on the market. What a great impulse purchase that was.

The simple truth is gardening in Townsend is far more daunting than it was in the Fox Valley. You wouldn’t think 90 miles could make such a difference, but I now understand what my father was getting at when he wryly observed: “Any fool could get rich farming in Dane County. They’ve got lush black loam a yard deep. It takes a real farmer to feed his family in this damnable Calumet County red clay.”

Well, my father’s “damnable” red clay in Sherwood is pretty swell stuff compared to the topsoil at Otter Run: a thin layer of powdery black dirt that barely covers the sand and rocks beneath. The soil is so emaciated that no self-respecting earthworm wants to live there. I’ve spent years adding compost, lime and sphagnum peat moss to enrich the soil and coax beneficial organisms to set up housekeeping there.

That’s been successful; but don’t get me started on the length of the growing season here. In a typical year (which we definitely are not having), the growing season in the Valley lasts from Easter to Halloween. In the Northwoods, it’s Flag Day to Labor Day, if we’re lucky. That makes growing anything a huge challenge, but every spring, I’m out there as soon as possible.

Gardening is one of those skills where you must be willing to learn from trial and error. Due to conditions, I’ve found broccoli, red cabbage, onions, potatoes and carrots do well. In fact, I harvest broccoli from July to November. Wouldn’t you know, Jon hates broccoli, unless I make cheesy broccoli soup, which does negate some of the benefits of this very nutritious vegetable.

I plant other healthy veggies such as beets, zucchini and cucumbers from seed, but I buy tomatoes, peppers, broccoli and red cabbage plants at Marilyn’s Greenhouse in Lakewood. Marilyn has been in the business for decades and knows what works in our soil and climate. On her expert advice, I try at least one new variety each year. Last year, I hit the jackpot with rainbow (green, yellow, orange, red) peppers. One plant produced 12 large peppers that I picked green and six that made it to a beautiful bright red! Jon says my venison fajitas have never been better.

One other thing I tried for the first time last year was romaine. Why on earth did it take me so long to discover this amazing variety of lettuce? It’s versatile, hardy, doesn’t get bitter in summer heat, keeps well in the refrigerator and makes a knock-out Caesar salad.

So on the great poker table of life, Dad, I see your one damnable red clay, and raise you 2 inches of pathetically paltry topsoil and a three-month growing season. You were a great card player who always knew when to fold. Hands down; I win. It takes a real gardener to feed a family here in Townsend.

Kathleen Marsh is a lifelong educator, writer, and community advocate. She has published eight books, four on the history of Townsend, where she and husband Jon are happily retired on the beautiful Townsend Flowage.