Autumn Apple Expedition

Mt. Hood overlooks fruit country

The spate of late October sunny days lured me and my fellow apple adventurers to drive up the Columbia Gorge to the aptly named Fruit Loop which circumnavigates the orchards above Hood River, Oregon. This is serious apple and pear country. The orchards offer fruit by the bin as well as cider, brandy, wine and other delights for the day tripper. We happened upon a u-pick opportunity at the Kiyakowa Orchard just out of Parkdale. We could pick right in the orchard and select anything that the commercial pickers had left and only pay 35 cents per pound!

Golden Delicious apples

Being bargain hunters we jumped at the chance to save some significant money, have a close-to-nature experience and saunter through a beautifully situated orchard of over 50 varieties of apples. With boxes and wagon we trundled along, orchard map in hand, and spied Golden Delicious, MacIntosh, Rome Beauties, Cameos, Jonagolds and a smattering of other varieties hanging shyly behind the turning leaves. As we reached into the trees, more and more apples revealed themselves and the picking rush was on.

Giant pumpkin on display

The experience of picking your own food is one that every person should endeavor to acquire. You can observe how your food grows, meet the people who cultivate it, learn how much work it takes to bring it to your table via the grocery store and appreciate the cycle of nature that underlies it all. The vast enterprise of this one orchard multiplied by hundreds of others similar to it is but a mere blink on the map of our entire nation's food supply. A trip to the orchard is a great educational opportunity for kids as they see that apples grow on trees, come in a multitude of colors and aren't waxed naturally. The free bites of a freshly picked apple are crisp, sweet and juicy and somehow taste all the better for being eaten in the shadow of a magnificent, snow-capped mountain.

Pears in many colors

Pickers in the glare of October sunshine

Bins of picked apples

Fruit hanging invitingly on row upon row of trees simply overpowers self-control of those who plan to can, freeze, dry and bake apple products. The siren song of "just one more apple" works to fill box after box of luscious apples, dreams of delicious desserts dancing in my head. Before I knew it I had picked 250 pounds of apples and struggled to find room in the car for them all. What was I thinking? Once again my eyes were bigger than my, er, kitchen capacity. But what a joy to share the bounty with others and to store some away for winter eating and cooking as well as line the cupboard shelves with jars of pink-tinged applesauce, fill the freezer shelves with bags of pie-ready filling and smell the distinct aroma of drying apple slices in the food dryer.

Half of our haul

Upon arrival at home I began to quickly peel the first batch of apples for an apple tartin, simmering quartered pieces in a caramelizing pan of butter and sugar until tender, then topping the apples with a rich pie dough to bake in the oven until done. After cooling the pan briefly, it is flipped upside down on a platter, the caramelized apples forming a lovely pattern over the baked shell. This dessert is best eaten warm with a dollop of whipped cream or a scoop of ice cream, although this could be construed as gilding the lily in some circles.

Knowing the treat would be short-lived, I dove into the day's pickings to begin preparing more apple slices for a huge apple pie. This will be eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner over the next few days, growing more tasty with each passing hour, should it last that long. Applesauce is on the schedule for tomorrow, an easy task of washing, quartering and cooking the apples until soft and then pressing them through a colander to remove seeds, skin and stems. A canning process completes the work and preserves the sauce for chilly winter mornings when a cup of fresh coffee and a piece of raisin cinnamon roll bread toast yearn for a fruity companion.

Fresh apple pie

The bounty of our Northwest farms can enrich your life when you reach out to pick of its products. A trip to apple country is available up to Thanksgiving time when the orchard sales offices close. Filberts and walnuts are just coming on the market in the North Plains area orchards. Check out here and here for more information on local availability. You'll never go wrong getting  your food from the source, and you just might learn something new along the way! Plan a trip for yourself and family or friends. It's a great way to impress out-of-towners too. Now excuse me while I get back to my kitchen.

Suburban Gardening

Books to get you started

Sitting on my deck with the morning's cup of coffee, awash in the October sunshine and wrapped in a lap quilt, I contemplated the possibilities of adding an herb garden to my already overstuffed yard. Originally I had planned and executed a small French vegetable garden mixing flowers, vegetables and fruit trees into a single gardening space. The salad greens, nasturtium blossoms and radishes provided a wonderful break from the winter broccoli and cabbages. The little clumps of marigolds, planted to keep bugs at bay, were golden lines of separation between lettuces, cucumbers and peas. Ann Lovejoy, a Northwest gardening author, had a great influence on my gardening in those days.

The espaliered row of 13 apple and pear trees were slow to bear fruit, but eventually gave us bowls of 10 varieties. Blueberries apparently didn't like our location and were limited in their crops. Tomatoes were abundant in the early years but have dwindled to sad, green globes recently. Herbs were hit and miss and there was always a watchful eye kept on the mints to be sure they didn't escape and end up ruling the garden.

Eventually the perimeter trees in neighboring yards turned my once sunny yard into a shade garden where vegetables failed to thrive, roses sogged out in damp areas and the whole yard generally tilted towards the early summer sun angle just to get a little warmth. When a couple of old cherry trees spontaneously fell over into our yard recently, the sun began to return to spots of the yard and the possibility of food gardening took root once again. A strawberry bed was the first project, made from repurposed interconnecting pavers stacked to make a wall for the soil. The berries happily scrambled over the surface of the space, sending out new runners and flowering with abandon so that I could pick a bowl of fresh fruit every morning for my breakfast.

Backyard produce

A dilemma loomed for further development. The former vegetable garden had gradually become a holding garden for extra flowers and shrubs so that in order to reclaim it, I would have to find new homes for the plants or toss them away. The lawn was another issue. It was a great play space when the family was younger but now serves as an outdoor extension of the heavily used deck. I decided to turn to some  neighbors who garden to see how they handle their spaces.

One neighbor had the unusual opportunity to completely redesign her yard and garden space. She chose to eliminate all lawn areas and concentrate on food production with the dream in mind of being nearly self-sufficient. She employed a garden designer to give her yard form and flow. This was achieved by designating areas of specific use in ever-repeating concentric arches ranging from the back door to the back fence. With a bit more southwest exposure and significantly less shade than my yard, she has been able to compile an amazing list of edible plants and trees: white peach, Pawpaw, almond, Asian pears, apples, persimmons, mulberry, blueberries, black currants, huckleberries, Goji berry, Sea berry, Goumi berry, Aronia or chokeberry, raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, various herbs, kiwi, pineapple guava, golden hops and Akebia vine. From this handsome collection of producers she gathers enough to eat in the season but does not yet freeze, can or dry any for winter use. As a vegan, she supplements her garden meals with grains and nuts.

Aronia (L) and Persimmon (R) juices

Another gardening neighbor with yet a different orientation to the sun made the move to raised beds when ground level work became too difficult. The 4 x 8 foot beds are made of untreated lumber and are filled with purchased gardening soil and homemade compost. Plastic bins with holes drilled for drainage compliment the beds. This gardener is a carnivore and fabulous cook so her garden reflects a different selection of edibles: artichoke, garlic, herbs galore, a bay leaf shrub, elderberry shrub, gooseberries, currants, a cherry tree, blueberries, strawberries, potatoes, oca and yucan tubers, green beans, salad greens, bok choi, a fig tree, fava beans, asparagus, beets and kiwis. This garden supplies quick and easy companions to her barbequed or oven-cooked meals and offers a theraputic outlet for her creative energy. It bears year round in one form or another and she freezes and cans for winter consumption. She and her husband also make their own wine and cultivate friends with food so that sharing is an aspect of their gardening efforts. They additionally glean through a gleaning association that provides food to the Food Bank. They also have a lawn.

Asian pears

If you decide to expand your suburban lot function to include a food-source garden, there are many points to consider: sun exposure, willingness to work for your food production, giving up play or mowing spaces, organic or not, how much food will my space and efforts yield, what do I like to eat, how do I grow what I want. Research is readily available online here, here, here and here, at the library or from your local Extension Agent. Some of your neighbors may be experienced and would be willing to share what they know. The opportunity to grow your own food, save money in some cases and know how your food has been handled are just a few of the rewards of suburban gardening. Start your plans today!

Turning the compost barrel

Beets and yucan in buckets

Late season raspberries

Persimmons and raspberries

Raised beds with tomatoes, onions and more

Sage regrows every year

Strawberries under pear tree

Raised beds and mini-orchard

Preparing a bed for asparagus

Annual Adieu!

The sunny moments of early fall days betray the gardener's heart. All the planning, preparation and visions of the spring plantings have been realized, more or less, throughout the happy summer months. Even though the rains must begin, the gardener wants the season of fruits and flowers to endlessly remain, a testament to hard work, regular grooming and gathering. But the inescapable seasonal changes progress despite the heart's sentiments and leaves begin to fall, flowers fade, vegetables stop producing, spiders leave their webs on insect highways and the signals to put the garden to bed cannot be ignored any longer.

A final harvest

Despite the sadness of cutting down still living plants, the rational decision to begin the process while the weather is dry is the best one. Remembering the slimy wet hostas, the mushy rotting vegetables and the sticky decomposing leaves of previous procrastinations bolsters the resolve to get at it while the sun shines.  The example of a more courageous neighbor gets the yard debris bins rolling. Starting at one end of the border, I clip old perennial growth, pull dried annuals and scatter their seeds about and root out stubborn and persistent weeds such as yellow clover, Johnson grass, the ill-conceived ground cover potentilla/cinquefoil/tormentilla (named for its five leaves and flower petals that torment the gardener by its running and strangling habit) and out-of-bounds ajuga and sweet woodruff.

The yard debris cans fill quickly with stalks of spent digitalis/foxglove, a beautifully amazing hardy Geranium 'Ann Folkard' and its various named associates 'Elizabeth', 'Samba', 'Mayflower' and 'Wargrave Pink', Asiatic lily stalks, daylily foliage, volunteer ferns, Heuchera inflorescence and the intrusive yet exquisite Lady's Mantle. Whew! And that was just for starters. The next round will be grape vines, an exuberant Clematis montana, tall spikes of Crocosmia 'Lucifer' and its naturalizing cousin C. x crocosmiiflora, hydrangea flower heads, Siberian iris, wandering oregano and penstemmon. This will be followed by the challenging load of golden hops vines, apple tree spouts, rose bush prunings and several Clematis vitacellas.

Stalwart wedding dahlia

Once the clipping starts, it takes on its own energy as the yard begins to look somewhat clean shaven and ready to be raked of all the leaves that have yet to fall. The London planetree and a row of maples in a neighbor's yard will dump a load of leaves, filled in by naturalized cherry trees, a purple weeping beech, a flowering crabapple, and a duo of River birch 'Heritage' with their constant twig drop issues. Satisfaction comes as the workload drags to an end. The pleasing thought of watching the clean palette of a yard wait for its spring greening renews my plans for next year's garden. Thinning and moving plants will be high on my list as will sharing a few favorites in some patio pots with a new bride.

For the time being, it's adieu. The seasons will plow forward and renewal will be evidenced in a few months. The seed and plant catalogs should be arriving any day now. I wonder what more I can squeeze into the side yard beds?

Farewell until we meet again

Coast Into Fall

The crush of brightly clad, flip-flop footed, sunburned vacationers has passed only to be replaced by somber clothed, Keen-shoed, sauntering took-the-day-off visitors and trailer-hauling travelers who know the value of shoulder seasons on the Coast. October opened with a typical sort of transition day. Rain pelted the metropolis areas for weeks prior to this month and dry days were forecast for just a few scattered times. The drive through the Coastal Range was grey, damp yet not cold. It was a time when the weather couldn't seem to settle on a single condition so alternated between wet, potentially wet and teaser blue sky moments.

My arrival at the Coast was met with an exhilarating expanse of blue sky, puffy white clouds, a slight but warm breeze and a mere handful of people, many with dashing canines in tow. The tide was out so the sand and its treasures were open for exploration. Foam gathered at the high water lines, apparently the result of organic matter churned into froth by the wave action. The diatoms and algae in the water gave the front running waves a greenish cast, adding more dimension to the  usual beach scene.

Indian Beach

Iconic Haystack Rock and The Needles wait patiently to be photographed in all types of weather, each picture a unique look at the 235 foot tall monolith that is part of the fame of Cannon Beach. Its pleasing shape, proximity to the shore and winged population of puffins, seagulls and other birds make the rock a landmark on the northern coast.

North of Cannon Beach lies Ecola State Park and the nearby Indian Beach hiking trail. Hampered by a "third foot" I cautiously strolled up a part of the trail leading to a viewpoint on Tillamook Head of the lighthouse offshore. Along the way the softening autumn sunlight slanted through the Douglas fir and Hemlocks, signaling the dropping arch of the sun this time of year. The sparkling waters off Indian Beach were blindingly bright as the waves washed around the many rocks littering the shoreline. Recent rainfall has revitalized streams which now flow with added content and musical sounds.

A short drive north into Seaside delivers another venue in which to spend a lazy afternoon walking the dog or riding a bicycle along the wide sands or working on your kite-flying technique. The gentle breeze from the south was sufficient to lift kites skyward and keep them tugging at their flight lines. During brief periods of precipitation, there are plenty of shops to explore, restaurants and candy shops to pop into for a snack or a carousel to ride if the kid in you surfaces once again. The kayak rental shop had no waiting line if that is your choice of adventure.

Tillamook Head

Fish 'n Chips are de rigor at the beach

Once your relaxing day or days at the Coast in October are finished, the drive back to the city has its own interesting adventures. Camp 18 with its single log ridge line restaurant, Loggers Memorial museum and display of original logging equipment is a sure bet for a leg stretch or meal. The three summits on the journey offer views of the surrounding forest, tumbling streams and turning leaf color. The vine maples are beginning to blush with their autumn red, the forest maples are turning a muddy yellow, the bracken greens slipping into a glowing beige. The general scene along the route is fading into a sepia-toned fall picture with leaves gradually abandoning their branches and piling on the forest floor. There they will decompose and nourish next year's growth.

Camp 18 wood figures

Take time to enjoy the changing season with its more relaxed pace and unpredictable weather spurts. The Coast has so much contemplative space in which to enjoy a hot cup of coffee, a good book and the company of an interesting friend or faithful canine companion. Look for those curious byplaces that were crowded in summer but unattended now and discover the rewards of our coast in the Fall.