A Healthy Forest Grows a Tree

As told by Larry Krotz (then heavily edited by Cindy and Scot Heisdorffer)

I’ll begin with a brief description of my growing strategy. It isn’t reasonable or practical for me to think that I can consistently grow perfect trees. There are simply too many contributing variables that I can’t control. However, something over which I have at least partial control is the growing environment, for example, canopy and seedling density. So, my primary focus is to establish and maintain an optimal growing environment, once I’ve determined what that is, and thereby allow the forest to produce the best trees possible. Success!

But then, how does a tree farmer define success? That is not an easy question to answer. There is no one-size-fits-all definition. Also, it is likely that, over a period of time, an individual farmer’s definition can evolve. I know mine certainly has evolved since I started to grow trees in 1962. In the beginning, it seemed as though trees were considered a cash crop, like corn or soybeans, to be harvested periodically in order to generate income. I no longer share that perspective. My current definition of success stresses the importance of long-term, self-sustaining, transgenerational growth over short-term financial gain. I believe that both perspectives fulfill a need, the former financial, the latter aspirational. I now aspire to establish and nurture my own permanent and stable forest, though, not a wilderness area, one that will exist into the 22nd century and beyond. Block areas of trees will be clear cut harvested for financial gain as they reach maturity and replanted for another cycle of this long term rotational forest crop. The hard-earned lesson that I have learned over the past six decades of tree planting is that trees tend to grow the best when they are left on their own as nature intended, when human interaction is therefore minimized or ideally eliminated altogether. The following narrative retraces the evolution of that lesson.

I am a retired Aeronautical Engineer, a retired United States Air Force fighter pilot, and now a tired active-duty tree farmer. I’ve accidentally developed a fascination and addiction for trees and how to best grow them, not only because I really enjoy the trees themselves, but I love the many products made from them. Black walnut is my favorite wood for carving and woodworking, thus it has become a particular passion.

My career as an engineer was very short. I graduated in June of 1957 as an Aero E. and a commissioned USAF 2/Lt qualified for pilot training. For strictly financial reasons I initially requested a delayed reporting date for my 5-year active duty commitment. I was making $550/month as an engineer vs. $222/month as a pilot. This was, of course, during pre-computer days when using an offsite main frame was standard procedure. I soon became disenchanted with the dull and repetitive task of operating a Monroe Calculator manually processing aerodynamic formulas for designing wings for anti-missile missiles. Frankly I was just plain bored. This boredom, along with Defense Contracts threatening my job in January 1958, changed my life.

I requested an earlier training date and started pilot training in March 1958, graduating in December 1959, as a fully qualified F86 fighter pilot. I was literally flying high and on top of the world. I thus found my niche and decided never to go back to engineering. This dream come true was, however, not to last. Less than two weeks later the AF suddenly discovered they had a surplus of pilots and consequently started to downsize. I got caught in the big shuffle, so for the next several years I bounced around from one deactivating squadron to the next.

In early 1962, I was stationed in Madison, Wisconsin, and leading the life of a frustrated deskbound fighter pilot. I was planning a big change, however. My wife Sandy and I had just purchased a 235-acre farm in southeast Iowa. I planned to farm, fly with the airlines to support farming and its captivating lifestyle and join the Des Moines Air National Guard for the pure joy of flying. The AF was supposed to be in the process of transitioning to F104’s (a very hot airplane at the time that was more like a man in a rocket). I was looking forward to that. But it was really the purchase of farmland that marked the official start of my tree addiction. I started to dream of small woodlands where I would someday plant walnut trees.

Shortly after this farm purchase, the Cuban Missile Crisis put me back in the cockpit of a F102 fighter aircraft. The AF now needed pilots. The feast to famine routine changed again. My plans with the airlines and National Guard disappeared and would never return. I was, however, still intensely enthused about increasing the number of trees on the farm. (At that time there were fewer than 300!) For the remaining year and a half prior to the change of station every chance I could, I planted trees. Madison was only 200 miles away from the farm so the planting was done on the few available duty-free weekends.

In these first years of planting I put a few black walnut nuts around a newly installed pond area, and I also manually planted a few seeds in the permanent pasture where the cows grazed, an idea that turned out to be quite ignorant. I also installed conifers for a windbreak, but they quickly died out. At this point grazing cattle, mowing to control weeds, planting too late in the season, drought, etc. were all thwarting me, as well as a general lack of knowledge about what I was doing. It was not a real promising start. This is while I had watched farmers in the Madison area planting conifers in abandoned farmland that flourished with no apparent care. Why couldn't I do that? Much later I was to discover these farmers had received much more timely annual moisture.

In late 1964, I moved to Texas as an instructor in advanced flying school. I loved the new job, but I hated the much longer commute to plant trees. I tried planting Texas pecan trees, but they perished in the first Iowa late spring frost, which is when I discovered latitude change makes a difference for plant material. It was then that I started to read books and pamphlets that I had ordered from the Dept. of Agriculture. One pamphlet in particular on black walnut suggested planting a monoculture of black walnut seedlings as a plantation. I continued to struggle, planting seedling transplants, primarily conifers and walnut seedlings and nuts, with very discouraging results. I also planted quite a few volunteer seedling trees from my Aunt Lena's flower beds. The trees would be flourishing in the flower bed, and would stay alive after transplanting, but these trees never had the same degree of vigor. (You will recognize later in my story that this was the light bulb starting to illuminate.) Initially I planted a couple hundred trees a year, gradually increasing this amount every year, but with very poor survival rates. I had planted every year until 1967 when I was ordered to Vietnam, followed by consecutive European tours ending in December of 1973. All tree planting halted for this entire six-year period.

In late December of 1973, I was again stationed in Texas, so I was able to resume planting trees from long range. The spring of 1974 my brothers and I ordered 36,000 seedling trees to plant on 4 farms, some as windbreaks and the rest as forestry projects. (As an aside, the vast majority of this planting took place on my brothers’ farms as I really wanted to encourage them to plant more trees as well.) I took a long leave and we struggled to get all those trees in the ground in less than a 2-week period of time. My brother converted an old corn planter to install seedling trees. That machine, along with the manual hand planting using the virtual slave labor of my brothers, Dad, and an army of approximately 20 school kids I happily called my "highly skilled technicians" worked well enough. I considered it a success when most of the seedlings were in the ground right side up! After all my failures from earlier times, we had some surprising results with survivability on a good percentage of those trees that were so thickly stuck in the ground. I did not know it at the time, but I was then on the road to high density planting. Much later I realized that we had accidently picked a perfect year for planting. Cool, moist conditions and timely rainfall throughout the first growing season really helped our efforts.

Regrettably, initial successful survival rate was not to last in large portions of the plots. My dad and brother-in-law, both of whom were incredibly helpful, simply could not stand weeds and they decided to mow between the rows of trees. These rows were hard to clearly identify and many trees were mowed out or damaged. This solidified my aversion to mowing as a primary corrective measure for weeds. Since then I have found that some weeds can even be beneficial.

And so it went from 1962 until 1978, trial-and-error planting without a whole lot of good results for my efforts. I made many, many mistakes, and although I probably didn’t manage all the mistakes humanly possible, it was definitely getting close.

I retired from the AF in the spring of 1978 and could potentially start to devote nearly all my time to planting trees. I was supposed to be building our future house, but I had not yet learned the magic word “no” when requests for help came my way. I ended up spending much of my time helping my brothers on their farms, and building our house became secondary, so I was the definition of someone with too many irons in the fire. I was able to spend only small portions of time planting a few more trees. I did manage to fence off a section of my permanent pasture from the cows once I realized their wanderings had caused soil compaction to the degree that some of the old hickories were starting to die off and that cows had browsed the trees planted in the pasture in earlier years. In the small amount of time I set aside for more tree planting, I hand-planted a few 5-gallon buckets of walnuts along the creek. I would just strap a pail around my waist with a piece of twine, fill it with hulled walnuts which are easier to plant manually (they are lighter and smaller without the hull), make a 45-degree angle slit in the ground with a long-handled shovel and simply toss in a nut. Much later I was to find out that these trees had survived and even appeared very happy in their surroundings. They had a little help from nature in the form of "trash trees" accidently becoming nurse trees.

In 1982, I had all cattle removed from the 65 acres of pasture, leased the land that had always been used for crops, and now my dream of having that pasture changed to woodland was going to happen . . . slowly. This was my 20th year of struggling with trees. My neighbor disked 2.5 acres of bottom land so I could seed direct into soil that was free from sod. Black walnut was the most valuable, so why should I waste time planting anything else? During this particular time, I was led to believe that black walnuts should be grown in heavily managed monoculture plantations. I didn’t like that, but I was going to try one more time for a walnut plantation that I could cultivate and keep free of weeds. Maybe this tactic would somehow change soil conditions enough to allow the walnuts to start flourishing.

I laid out precise rows 9’ apart with 4’ spacing of seeds and staked the rows for later row identification. I used seed since it was readily available versus relatively costly nursery stock. In the spring of 1983 I had to wait for the first seedlings to emerge to see the rows (cows had knocked most of the stakes down the previous fall prior to their removal). I then lightly cultivated with a towed 8’ disk between the 9' rows. This was a disaster from the very beginning due to all the damage I was doing to both roots and tops. It was an embarrassing and hair-brained scheme and I walked away from it. Later in the year I gathered a bunch of seed, mostly elm, box elder and hackberry, and broadcast it over the 2.5 acres. This was supposed to be “my carefully tended plot growing quality walnut”? I was most certainly discouraged. (I had also planned on seeing if I could grow a walnut with a clear bole of 30’ without manually pruning. I still have that goal, but I’m not quite there.)

In previous years, I had been mainly using seedling transplants with a few seeds between transplants. After the first few years, a seedling transplant would generally grow but seldom would continue the original terminal growth for the first year after transplant. In most cases the sapling would shoot 3-5 side buds that first year rather than continue the original terminal growing. That was unacceptable for me because it would require later pruning. I wondered if this could be something to do with epicormic sprouting since this small transplant is most certainly under stress. Every time we transplant a tree, we have a ratio of 100% of the top and maybe 40% of the root. Most of the very fine feeder roots are destroyed with exposure to air during transplant. Until the plant has a chance to replace those feeder roots, it is my experience that the tree will not resume normal growth. During this time frame I noticed the transplants were not flourishing while the occasional seed I would put in was looking great. In fact, the seed direct tree always looked more like the very healthy trees growing in my Aunt Lena's flower bed.

Within this time frame, there were a couple of noteworthy ideas beginning to form. I was starting to recognize the relationship between planting very large numbers of trees and the quantity of excellent trees. I also began to be a bit more partial to planting deciduous trees over so many conifers, for a variety of reasons that will simply make this story too long! I began to think about the importance of the canopy in suppressing the non-native perennial sod-forming grasses (canary grass and brome grass), the soil conditions in terms of moisture and temperature, and finally the way plants grow when there’s shading in that they are growing far more vertically than horizontally. I also started to learn more about herbicides and trust I could use them properly. This was the time I realized I really wanted my trees to flourish rather than just survive.

I’ve observed that nature’s model for healthy forests is the most reliable. These photos above show the top and bottom of a tree in my monoculture plantation that was rescued by introduction of so called “trash trees”. The tree has completed 32 years of growth and has never been manually pruned. I had pruned back an occasional box elder or elm that was interfering.

In 1983, I planted a large number of conifers in the permanent pasture that had been taken out of grazing. The sod-forming perennial grasses were out-competing the trees that I was planting. I noticed that once conifers got past that first year after transplant (as long as they were thickly planted), they were more likely to grow without human intervention. I was planning on a conifer/black walnut companion plant plantation. The reason for this was to ensure that the conifers provided the grass control as the black walnuts could not do that on their own. I hand planted these conifers in the very early spring (this is important in order to minimize disturbance) into old growth bluegrass and then a smaller quantity in a manicured area (our lawn). 1983 was a severe drought year and there was a remarkable difference in survivability of these small conifers. In the well-tended areas, the trees were watered throughout the season and most of them still did not survive. In the old growth bluegrass, where there was no tending whatsoever, the loss ratio was noticeably smaller. I therefore concluded that not mowing the bluegrass had allowed the grasses to set seed pods, after which the plant simply went dormant until late fall when it started to really grow again in order to prepare for the next season. In the interim, the tall dormant grasses were not using a lot of nutrients and, even more important, the 18-24” dormant grasses had in fact shaded the ground and tended to keep the soil temperature much lower. Cool, moist soil in the root zone seemed to be the key. The second principle involved was aerodynamics, an effect similar to what blow dryers in restrooms achieve. By not mowing the grasses in the root zones, small barriers to airflow were not eliminated. The loss of soil moisture was reduced by slowing the airflow during the hot summer months. So, if stalks of grasses can reduce the airflow which in turn reduces moisture loss, a larger quantity of trees should be able to achieve the same result over a potentially much more extensive area of land. This conclusion thus convinced me that tree stems planted in high density tended to favor high yield.

This high density, or “crowded effect,” required a great number of trees, many more than were considered normal at the time. When I first started planting trees in 1962, a forested area comprised 200 trees per acre. That might still be true, but only when the trees are 40 to 50’ tall. It most certainly is not true, however, when the trees are merely 1 to 2’ tall. At the initial stage of planting, that little tree is rather lonely in this huge prairie setting. This is by no means a forest, even if there are 1000 trees per acre. I now firmly believe that, in order to improve my success rate, I need to plant thousands of trees, so my monetary expenditure subsequently increases.

In order to avoid the intimidating expense of purchasing thousands of seedlings, I decided to start my own nursery, growing deciduous as well as coniferous seedlings that could serve as companion trees for the walnut. I really didn’t know what I was doing, so there was a lot of trial and error. I collected and stored seeds of all types, some in unintentionally unfavorable conditions for staying viable. I quickly got to know where all the best seed collection sites were located, not just in my county, but also in a few surrounding counties. I raked, swept or used a nut picker. Whatever the most efficient method of collecting was, I used it. Interested spectators with whom I talked during these nut-gathering excursions frequently suggested contacting their friends for additional collection opportunities. In many cases they would have the seed already collected and were extremely pleased to let me haul it off. Sadly, some of this seed was collected and stored improperly. I now know what happened: Under no circumstances should black walnuts or acorns be collected and stored in a plastic lined bag on hot September days because they tend to lose viability in a hurry.

My nursery produced mixed results. A most important lesson I learned was no matter how much dead seed you plant, you’re not going to get live trees! I remember my dad checking for seed viability with his agricultural planting. How could I have neglected something so basic with my tree seed? I tried a number of mechanisms for storing and checking seed viability, and the most costly mistake I made was drying out tree seeds, for instance acorns. I quickly realized that I could not treat my tree seeds the way that my father treated his seed corn and seed oats. Desiccation occurred to over 20 bushels of carefully collected white oak seed that I had protected from critters and planted to no avail. I now know that desiccated acorns are in fact dead and not revivable, so all tree seed must be collected and stored so that it can be preserved until germination. I discovered a very good book, Ag. Handbook 450, Seeds of Woody Plants in The United States, that is now my "Bible" of seed collection, treatment and handling. It is no longer published, but it is still possible to access the information on the internet. I was so happy to find information was already available and I didn’t have to “reinvent the wheel”. (Incidentally, I now steadfastly believe that the best storage place is still in the ground where you want the tree to grow. Let me repeat, if at all feasible, the seeds need to be planted as soon as possible. That’s nature’s way.)

Our county extension director held a field day for individuals interested in planting trees. He was aware of my attempts and included me in a 1-hour session at the end of the program. I decided to showcase dense planting of trees as well as my nursery. At this point in time, my "radical thinking on growing trees” was not well known. To use an anachronism, I was "kicking over the traces." In other words, I rejected out of hand the “book solution” that strongly endorsed black walnut monoculture plantations. I was definitely not in favor of those plantations.

During the tour of my operations, I responded to a great number of questions and received a lot of strange looks. At a private moment at the end of the meeting, the extension director jokingly asked me “Why don't you quit being so darned stubborn and just do it the way it's supposed to be done?” The University of Iowa extension director, who was also present for the tour, eventually included in his pamphlet a short paragraph on the possibility of using thickly-planted seed.

The nursery project lasted only 4 or 5 years. The initial nursery failures did not stop me. They instead just slowed me down. I eventually figured out how to reduce depredation of nursery bed seeding by fencing, covering seed beds with poultry netting or hardware clothe, etc. It was an extremely labor-intensive undertaking. Just as I appeared to have learned how to grow the trees seedlings in a nursery bed, another major problem arose.

My future forests were growing in my nursery beds instead of my nursery beds’ stock growing in my future forests. How could I transplant all of these trees by myself? I was growing upwards of 50-60,000 thousand stems a year. The sheer quantity was a genuine concern. I had a short planting window and no help. The initial solution was to have my wife drive the tractor while I planted the stems from our homebuilt tree planter.

Incidentally, it was also around this time we discovered that transplant shock was a major problem. I tried to comprehend why we as a tree planting community came to the transplant conclusion in the first place. I assumed it had to do with carryover from coniferous planting techniques. Most of my previous problems could have been avoided with the simple use of seed direct because I now know that seed that has sprouted in place and never been moved has the optimal opportunity for terminal root connection. No amount of transplanting could improve that connection. The following picture shows just how extensive the root structure is. This is a one-year-old tree from a test plot, and by digging up this tree, we lost approximately 60% of the root structure.

In early 1988, my forester noticed my alleged 1982 failure and surprisingly termed it a success. Impressed with the form and growth of my walnuts, he approved my plan to direct seed my deciduous trees in a future planting. Having a forester validate my plan gave a legitimate boost to my new method. My goal to establish a 15.9 acre CRP planting (half of the planting was deciduous and the other half conifers purchased from the state nursery) was on its way to becoming a reality. With the box elder and other so-called “trash trees” I did a bit of nudging here and there in an effort to help my “real trees” to form and grow. This wild idea, direct seeding of trees, continues to be an integral part of my planting strategy.

I now know how to grow trees from seed in my nursery and my forester has just approved almost 16 acres being planted seed direct starting in the fall. Just how difficult could that be? The feedback from people with whom I shared my plan was certainly mixed. I received a lot of “expert advice” suggesting that my plan would lead to failure. From many fellow tree farmers I heard anecdotal stories about how this planting strategy had been tried, ”but the critters took every seed.” I was used to failure, so why not try one more crazy idea? Somewhere in this approximate time frame Sandy and I made a couple of train trips to PA to visit our kids and grandkids. During one fall trip, the amount of acorns on the ground made a dramatic and everlasting impression on me. At one point during my frequent walks through semi-forested areas near my son’s home, the ground was so covered that I could not take even one step without crushing an acorn. If only I could have transported all those acorns to my place! An even more amazing revelation took place during our trip the following spring. The massive quantity of acorns that had lain for so long on top of the ground or under leaf litter were all in the early stages of sprouting and forming young trees. Those acorns were so numerous that deer, turkeys, squirrels, etc. could not possibly consume them all. Nature had overwhelmed the critters. I then did some quick counting of test plots on my own land, randomly threw out the rock, measured a specified area around the rock for several spots, and eventually made computations. Even with the rough measuring, I estimated that Nature had seeded and sprouted 50-60,000 stems per acre. I then remembered a local lawn that I had previously photographed. I took a look at the photos and discovered that the lawn was literally covered with small pin oaks that had sprouted from the previous fall mast crop. Thank you Mother Nature. It can be done.

My district forester drew up the planting plan, indicating where and how many of each species should be planted. This plan was a bit different from his normal spacing tendency since it called for direct seeding of 50% of the plantation. I ended up ordering 6,000 conifer seedlings from the Iowa State Nursery in Ames. The conifers, along with a few silver maple and green ash, were to be spaced approximately 8’ apart within the rows and the deciduous seed spaced 2-4’ apart within the row. This tactic gave me a projected number of approximately 15,000 stems on the entire plantation. Since I was still a bit unsure about germination and survivability, I asked my forester to specify a minimum number required, rather than a fixed number. His eager endorsement of my request both validated and solidified my developing planting strategy: to alternate deciduous and coniferous rows of trees.

A shadow now hung over my head. Could I get this project off the ground? What should the next step be? It was time to put up or shut up. Out of sheer necessity I became the world's biggest squirrel, subsequently spending the entire fall gathering seeds from the primary deciduous species, walnuts, white oak, and red oak. Other concerns also came into play. First, that 15.9 acre field at the time was in row crops, most of which was corn. Second, 1988 was a drought year and my tenant did not harvest until late October. These two factors forced me to abandon my much preferred leisurely planting pace. As soon as harvest was complete and the corn stubble was disked, I got to work, using an old 4-row corn planter marker to lay out the plantation for the 2-stage planting.

Lasting more than a week, the first stage was the fall planting of walnut, red oak and white oak seed. Sandy drove the tractor with me riding on the tree planter dropping seed down the tube by hand. I really tended to overplant and eventually just ended up holding a handful of seeds and letting each one flow quickly down the tube. I ended up planting 40-50 bushels each of both red and white oak. I had problems with the white oak since it had sprouted 2-3” pigtails and regularly got tangled as it dropped down the tube. Several pickup loads of walnuts, equally tough since they were very black and mushy after being stored in gunny sacks in the shade for a month and a half, were also planted. In addition, hydraulic problems with my tractor made regulating depth unreliable and inconsistent. Ideally, optimal depth, measured from the ground level down, should be 6”. The extremely dry soil was also a major factor in depth control. Even though I had done my own collecting and the seed was therefore cheap, I did my absolute best in order to avoid a future replanting.

The post-planting phase was characterized by doubt and second thoughts. With everything seemingly riding on “The Big Planting,” I became a worry-wart and subsequently spent the long winter trying to convince myself that success was imminent. Everything would work out, wouldn't it?

The second stage began in March, 1989. I flagged the entire area because the marker furrows had noticeably faded over the winter. My seedling transplants could not be shipped until late April, so on April 1, Sandy and I drove to the state nursery in Ames to pick up our 6,000 conifer trees. Planting lasted 3 long days. Sandy strained to aim for the flags that were homebuilt and hard to see, while I strained my back leaning over on the planter counting “one potato, two potato” so I could space the trees, but by doing so I tended to get closer rather than wider spacing. Due to the spacing tactic I eventually ran out of conifers, so I ended up filling in with some of my private nursery trees. I then used a borrowed 4’ drill to interplant a cover crop of oats and timothy between rows. Within a day or so we had approximately an inch and a half of rain. This occurred right in the middle of the 1988-1989 droughts. It was to be the last substantial rain we would get for many months.

For the rest of the month the worrying just got worse. I just had to succeed, yet all I could see was the green of the conifers. I checked daily, noticing a great number of ordinary weeds starting, but nothing in the way of oak and walnut. I knew where the rows were, so I could do a bit of hoeing and hand weeding. I quickly realized I had to mechanize the weeding process. I purchased a 2-row corn cultivator that fit on my 1952 John Deere B. I used only 1 row of it, however, in order to cultivate shallowly, barely skimming the ground and within about 6” of the marked row during the first pass. I was still holding my breath that those little oaks and walnuts would start poking through. When the first one did poke through, a bit of hope arose. Within a week's time, and with the exception of the white oak, the number of seeds popping through the soil was overwhelmingly gratifying to me. And so began the hand weeding in earnest. I was absolutely amazed by the numbers of little walnut and red oak, but the white oak remained a “no show.”

As the days went by, the number of small trees popping up through the soil continued to grow (although I was a little puzzled by the large separation in emergence dates of those babies). Within just a few weeks’ time, the growth on the walnuts and red oak was fantastic. I did notice within the first month of growth that deer were wandering through, but at the time I thought deer would not be a factor since I had so many trees growing. My cultivation and hand weeding continued, but I was clearly losing ground with the weeds in some areas. I was nonetheless extremely happy, knowing I had a future forest whose trees, at least for the most part, were still 6-12” tall (with a few 18-24” trees mixed in). Granted, the rows were 8’ apart, but at least I finally had possibilities.

In late June, I really started to worry about my white oak since it comprised almost 50% of my deciduous plant population. To satisfy my curiosity, I dug into the soil and found white oak mummies everywhere. There were no signs of rodent depredation. In addition, and thanks to the sprouts on the seeds I noticed before planting them, I knew the seed had been viable. My final diagnosis was that the severe 2-year long drought had possibly left some traces of corn herbicide in the soil that could have affected the sprouted acorn. The only other possibility was that the extremely dry soil had sapped the moisture out of the sprouted acorn. The latter possibility seemed more plausible since I had planted my red oak acorns at the same time and they had not sprouted until the following spring during which significant rain and snow had fallen. The realization that 50% of my deciduous plantation, the white oak, was a complete loss, was a hard pill to swallow.

My original planned plant population was projected to be 15,000 stems. During that first drought-filled year of planting I lost not only all of the white oak, but also over 50% of my conifers (red and white pine). Rather than waiting until late April when the shipment was originally scheduled, I decided to plant the conifers during the first few days of April This lucky decision also changed my entire plantation plan. Even though the rate of germination was still unknown, I estimated I still had, thanks to over planting, a population of roughly 50,000 stems. In the fall of 1989, I spent a great amount of time filling in the spaces between the living conifers. Not know whether the conifers would live another year, I used a shovel and dropped a nut or red oak acorn spaced every foot within the conifer row trees. I did not have a readily available crop of white oak acorns that year.

In the late 80s I also found that seed planted into certain vegetation could germinate and grow through that vegetation. The growth was certainly not as fast, but it would grow and within a few years it started to flourish. In this specific case, the suitable vegetation was old-growth, perennial sod-forming blue grass that had been left untended after planting the tree seeds. It was planted using a no-till machine that I fashioned out of an old no-till seed corn planter modified in such a way as to accept smaller walnuts and acorns. It slit the grass and allowed the seed to drop into the opening. The slit then quickly closed in zipper-like efficiency. The bent grass was the only way to know where the seeds had been planted. The seed sprouted in the spring and, compared to the test rows, thrived. My forester suggested spraying a 2’-wide band on both sides of several rows in order to see what happened. The roundup killed the bluegrass, but unfortunately also introduced daisy fleabane and goldenrod. Compared to the bluegrass, these two weeds were much more harmful to the growth of the young oak and walnut. As far as the competition for nutrients was concerned, the exchange of mild competition (bluegrass) for a possible toxic one consisting of goldenrod and daisy fleabane (both of which are perennials) was alarming. After approximately 10 years, the growth in the untended area was much more advanced than the growth in the sprayed one. I now also believe that the lack of transplant shock was the primary variable that allowed these small trees to eventually flourish. This casual attempt to satisfy my curiosity was, however, not a true test due to the fact that throughout this period rabbits and deer continued to severely damage these small plants. Looking back at my one previous planting (in the bluegrass by the creek 10 years earlier), I now realize that the sod conditions were identical. By default then, the only real variable was the damage caused by rabbits and deer. It is from this experience that I can now conclude that it is indeed possible to grow seeds into trees through untended old growth bluegrass as long as they, the seeds, have sufficient time to establish themselves. This conclusion is further proof that human intervention is not necessarily always beneficial. Perhaps the best path to success is simply to leave nature alone and let it take over.

At about this same time I became aware of the phenomenal growth of seeds “planted” by birds. I noticed eastern red cedar seemed to flourish in a patch heavy brome grass that had been planted on a newly graded highway right-of-way 4-5 years earlier. Throughout the state, eastern red cedar is hard to establish as a transplant in untreated brome. This is especially true during a dry season. Where there are power lines or fences and grass, in other words, where birds hang out, there will be eastern red cedar in untreated brome. This is an example of seed direct tree planting. I jokingly tell others, if you want a juniper, just drive a stake into the ground (where birds will perch) and move it around every couple of years. This method also works well with many other species such as black cherry, mulberry, etc. I mention this now only to illustrate the difference between planting a seed and transplanting a seedling. Due primarily to its root structure, sod-forming grass seems to play a crucial role in the success of seed direct and seedling transplant, and especially so in the first couple of years of growth. (Non-sod forming grasses are far more deleterious to seedling transplants.)

In the early 1990s, a consulting forester and friend brought a client to view my 1988 direct seeding. By this time some trees in a few areas had finally started to show substantial growth. One thing that was quite noticeable was the devastation caused by deer browse. The forester asked what I intended to do. I expressed little concern, answering rather flippantly that I would simply plant more trees. So my plan was to “outplant” the deer, planting far more trees than the deer could possibly damage. I soon had to eat my words as I learned that the devastation was specifically caused by neither the number of trees nor by the number of deer, but rather by the deer to browse ratio.

The year of 1990 I was struggling to keep the growing trees with their heads above the competition. I decided I was going to have to go the herbicide route so I originally started with a backpack sprayer trying to maintain 1-2’ weed free on both sides of the seeding. Early in the spring prior to bud break, I sprayed herbicide to keep grasses and broadleaf weeds from growing. Later in the year I had areas where I used a shield to protect the growing tree from herbicide drift and applied Roundup where the pre-emergent had not been effective. Some of those rows were 1/2 mile long and carrying that 5-gallon backpack sprayer was quite tiring.

I began to ponder how to increase my numbers in the failed areas of the 1988 planting and I wanted to do it mechanically without destroying trees already growing which is very hard to do with large equipment with the arrangement of trees at that time. I found a bumper crop of white oak acorns nearby. My original rows, spaced 8’ apart, consisted of alternating deciduous and conifers (of which 50% or better were dead). The white oak was nonexistent in its original rows. I did not think it would be feasible to mechanically go back and spot plant the bare areas because the amount of space required for maneuvering the machine was simply too limited and I risked damaging too many small living trees. In several of the areas where conifers were growing I eventually managed to hand plant walnut and acorns (both red and white oak acorns).

I decided to use my brother's nut planter to plant a row of white oak spaced 2’ on either side of the conifer rows, and then an additional row of black walnuts spaced 2’ outside the rows of white oak. This arrangement was repeated throughout the entire plantation. I very wisely took Sandy's advice to do everything by myself, since the investment of time was considerable. I started by converting my brother's 2-man potato/tree planter into a 1-man tree seed planter. Due to my unskilled cutting and welding techniques, I ended up making a lot modifications. It was more of a “break it and remake it” style of modification.

This final "high tech machine" was really nothing more than a comic book plow assembly fitted on my tractor’s 3 point attachment. This invention made a slight furrow that was held open by vertical sweeps just long enough so that the seeds could drop down a PVC pipe and into the furrow before being covered by a double length of log chain sweep. (By the way, most tree seeds’ only requirement is viable contact with bare mineral soil. For some seeds, not even that much is needed.)

While planting the first white oak rows, I could detect that I was doing some root damage to existing trees (the feeder roots are extremely close to the surface), but it was a gamble I thought I had to take. This secondary planting was done using a tremendous quantity of seeds (more than 50 bushels of white oak and black walnut as measured by the pickup load). I was doing this by myself and driving the tractor as slowly as it would go. With a bucket of seed on the tractor seat, I stood sideways and threw handfuls of nuts down the tube. As I found out later, this planting strategy left behind a sort of Morse code pattern of growing trees. You know … the dot-dash thing, because the tube often got plugged up with squishy flattened black walnut hulls. The worst case of that was the next year finding 15 living stems ended up being planted in one linear foot of row. Not good, but I could kill trees faster than I could grow them. OSHA would no doubt have objected to my steering the tractor with my behind just so that I could plant seeds faster. “I was busier than a one-armed paper hanger.” This aphorism epitomizes my routine. I managed to finish this project in the fall of 1991, but without really knowing for sure what I had done.

The following year I was amazed by the number of young seedling trees that had started to emerge. These extra trees did, however, cause a few problems. Due to patchy herbicide application the year before, competition was rampant in the original white oak total loss areas resulting in many of the younger trees struggling. In some areas, trees at least 2 years old were shading the newly emerging seed. In addition, the rabbit population exploded. As a result, the oaks were severely gnawed off or girdled. One day that winter I was able to dispatch 39 rabbits in three, 15-minute increments using a 22 rifle. It was so cold, I could stay out of my warm pickup for only 15 minutes at a time without losing feeling in my fingers. My extra work still paid dividends though, because quite a few of those add-on trees managed to survive. Again, density as a planting strategy seemed to prevail.

I decided to use my riding mower with my backpack sprayer rather than simply walking around with the sprayer. That was an improvement, but 16 acres was still a lot to cover, so I attached a 12-volt, 12-gallon tank to the riding mower tractor. This modification really shortened the spraying time, so much so that I was able to apply pre-emergent herbicide to all the rows, and in a lot less time, by driving in the 4’- wide alleys. The reduced width of the rows also forced me to use a walk-behind brush cutter rather than a 5’ - wide brush cutter on the back of my tractor. This cutter was used when the height of some of the more vigorous broadleaf weeds started to exceed the height of my trees.

I was beginning to discover just how bad the deer problem was becoming, so I started to fence in my trees with used, woven wire and posts. Working alone, I spent almost a year and a half building 8’ woven wire fences around 2 separate plots of trees (65 acres and 19 acres). The original 15.9 acres had been increased in size. I installed a CRP forestry addition to ease the fencing problem. There is a world of difference between the fenced and unfenced trees! When a deer managed to get in, it did not stay very long. It convinced me that the best defense for trees is a formidable fence.

I estimated in 1992-1993 that there were approximately 250,000 stems in the 1988 plot (including the additional 4 rows on both sides of my conifer rows). That was a large quantity of very small trees and I loved it. I started to notice such things as leaf litter in the fall, much more shade on the ground, fewer weeds growing and fewer sod forming grasses. I continued to fill in areas with extra trees every year. It was easy to gather ash seed, linden, or hackberry by simply sweeping up by curbs or in parking lots. I would then walk through the planting area on a windy day and toss a handful of the seeds into the air. I got wonderful dispersal and quite good germination. Most of the final filler trees were either shade-tolerant or somewhat shade tolerant species.

In the spring of 1992, my district forester asked me to give a landowner presentation in Amana, Iowa, to a group called the National Walnut Council. Here, I’ve been growing trees since 1962 and I’m just now discovering groups of other people are doing the same thing! It opened an entire new avenue to talk and associate with other tree growers. I started presenting at local clubs and groups. I then started to volunteer at different fair booths and other events such as the Farm Progress Show. These experiences gave me the opportunity to make many new friends and gain access to new sources of information. Best of all, I could talk about something other than a monoculture plantation.

I eventually began to make presentations of my planting strategy at various woodland meetings. During one such meeting a forester jokingly said, "Larry, you are preaching forestry heresy." I guess I was, but I was starting to see results I liked. But more important, my results seemed identical to those of Mother Nature. That is why she was and continues to be the guiding light for my work with trees.

I want to plant enough seeds so that the quantity of woody vegetation can very quickly outgrow sod-forming grasses. In reality, I want a forest condition to start at 1-2’ in height. It is hard to do, but not impossible. In the fall of 1992, I mowed and spread herbicide to kill the sod in a 5-acre area of creek bottom land that had a few standing box elder and old growth hickories. I thoroughly saturated that area with a tremendous amount of seeds of all varieties. Black walnut and red oak were the biggest quantity (more than a pickup load of walnut in the hull and 25-30 bushels of acorns). I can't remember all of the species I used, but black cherry and juniper certainly dominated. I know for sure that at least 15 species were planted. My strategy was simply to overplant. These seeds were drilled in with my homemade planter as I attempted to cover every square foot of space. I estimate that 75% of the space was planted using this strategy.

The critters had a heyday that fall, winter, and spring, feasting primarily on the acorns and walnuts to such an extent that the area looked like a lunar surface with craters everywhere. I therefore assumed that the seeds were gone. In April, impressive numbers of walnuts and oaks and others seeds were popping through the soil, but to no avail. The creek flowing through the area left its banks 11 times during the growing season, causing harm to almost every tree. The area was never flooded or under water for longer than 24 hours. It was the attendant leaf siltation rather than the flooded ground that caused the most harm.

That fall I replanted with somewhat the same quantities and drill pattern, only this time I did not use pre-emergent herbicide. I confronted the same critter depredation as the previous winter, so once again I assumed that there were no seeds in the ground. In early April, large quantities of reed canary grass sprouts showing along with other weeds began to poke through the soil. I patiently waited for my seedling trees to appear. As soon as that happened, I immediately decided to broadcast Roundup, all the while knowing that I would kill the newly emerged seedling trees. The competition from grass left me no other alternative.. Those later emerging tree seedlings, however, were not affected. I spent the rest of the growing season hand weeding and hoeing as much as I could.

This is what it looked like after the first two growing seasons. I am almost 6’ tall and standing in the center of the lower photo.

I was overjoyed to have the 6-8’ stand of red oak and black walnut codominant conditions after just two growing seasons. I thought I had solved the problem; however, not quite. Below are pictures of damage caused by rabbits in less than 2 weeks time.

Picture showing complete loss of the red oak due to girdling.

This picture shows how badly the rabbits damaged catalpa, also due to girdling.

If I had planted only two species, my attempt would have been a complete failure. As it was with the numbers of other species I had planted, today it is still a forest. It just does not have the red oak component that I had anticipated was very important for this forest. The little red oak still leafs out in the spring, but gets chewed back every year. It is fighting a losing battle because those little trees don’t get enough sunlight to allow the leaf production to contribute to their growth. (Incidentally, about that time I had numerous hunters tell me that if I were to allow them to hunt the rabbits, they would solve my rabbit problem. I informed them that I had the rabbit problem because the hunters had killed all my foxes and coyotes. Natural predators can never be replaced by hunters. Hunters operate only a few hours a day. Coyotes and foxes also do not put bullet holes in trees.)

In 1998, I planted another 17.6 acre field of CRP. I was able to mow, spray, and plant fairly early in the fall and with a tremendous amount of seeds. I had a bumper crop of white oak and black walnut. This was a triangular field where I planted the hypotenuse the first year. The second year I had a great crop of red oak, so I planted by driving over the previous small trees in another direction so as to minimize damage to the previous trees. The third year I planted in a third direction with a great quantity of other seeds that I was able to obtain for just the hauling. I now had a plantation comprised of mixed up rows and species of trees. It became very hard to do any further mechanical work. I was able to use my backpack sprayer during the season and keep most of the competition at bay.

That same time in 1998 I disked and broadcast direct seeded a 3.8 acre field with roughly the same species mix. I was not able to use my backpack sprayer since I had no idea where little tree seedlings were coming up. That was my last disk and broadcast direct seeding. I found that the drill technique worked much better for me. Today, most of that 3.8 acre plot looks like a forest (just not as good as the drilled), but the continual deer browse has stunted the growth.

In early 2004, I was asked to participate in a test for a possible control of Acrobasis, along with 3 other locations in Wisconsin. This insect was destroying the growing tips of black walnut trees in some locations. I had some minor damage with my own trees, so I agreed, but with one condition: I could use seed direct. Due to the risk of transplant shock, I did not wish to participate if I had to use seedling transplants. I hand planted a 0.6 acre plot of black walnut using seed direct, planting four seeds (each seed spaced six inches from the stake) with all stakes being six feet apart. The planting conditions were terrible since I had not had the site prepared the previous fall. I was able to kill some of the early sprouting grasses with Roundup. I used four seeds for each location in order to guarantee at least one tree at each location (after accounting for germination issues and depredation). My goal was to have at each location a living tree that was not a transplant. I already knew that a transplant was not reliable to produce a great terminal to start. I had almost perfect germination. A mid-May temperature drop to 24 degrees turned all of the growing tips black. The amazing thing was that almost all of those trees recovered with a single growing terminal. One month later, all traces of frost vanished.

The other three test plots in WI were not so successful and lost a large percentage of their trees. I was asked the following year to allow some of my extra plant material to be dug up to replant in WI. I allowed 50 small trees to be removed by digging. I was not happy doing this since digging that close to the surviving tree could still affect it. I had planned on all my extra trees being just cut off to keep from disturbing root structure of my test trees.

The originally planned tests for Acrobasis were not carried out to due to the failure of the WI plots. In the first 2 years there was no indication of Acrobasis in my trees. By the third year, though, I would not be able to brush the growing tip with insecticide due to the fact that some of those trees had grown to over 11’ and were more than 3” in diameter at ground level. I no longer trusted myself on a step ladder. So between the quickly growing trees on my plot and the failures in WI, we couldn’t carry out the tests.

This test was productive for me because for the first time I really became aware of the massive amount of root that a tree could have. That first year when I was hand weeding around the small trees and trying to remove the rhizomes of goldenrod, I often encountered a pencil-width black walnut lateral in some cases as little as 0.5” below the surface. I now know that the base is very important to the tree, so I am going to respect that. From now on, the only transplanting I will do is with clonal material. Below are pictures showing the layout and 1st, 2nd and 3rd growing seasons of this plot.

In 2008, I planted another large plot of CRP, using my seed planter and basically as much seed as possible as well as the same number of species. Except for the 3.8 acres, I have had all these plots fenced with 8-10’ woven wire that worked wonderfully well provided I kept them maintained. Floods, windstorms, ice storms and other weather-related events can wreak havoc on fragile fences. The past 4-5 years I have not been able to maintain the fences, so deer damage is still rampant. There is no such thing as old enough trees that the deer will not damage them. The real issue is deer-to-browse ratio. Mine is entirely too high.

My previous comments serve as background, as insight into my attempts to grow trees over the past 50 years. I do not claim to have an answer to the question, “How can I grow a black walnut tree that will become prime veneer quality wood?” In fact, taking into consideration all the different locations, climates and terrain in the United States, I doubt that there is a definitive answer. There is no “one size fits all” strategy.

I know we had high quality trees in this region when it was first settled in the mid-1800s. I want to have them again. We are on the boundary of the Eastern forests and the Great Prairie. I believe my farm had both forest and prairie conditions in the early 1800’s, and I think the forested areas were in the valleys and creek bottoms. I have tried to think about how I can replicate those forest conditions, primarily in those areas on my farm.

Getting a tree to grow is easy, but getting it to flourish is somehow a bit difficult. I do not wish to pick winners and losers the day I plant. I am not planning to grow and carefully groom a black walnut tree from the day I plant it to the day I harvest it. I do not have the capability to instantly determine which tree out of the thousands I plant will be the one I choose to harvest 80-150 years from now. I have seen entirely too many trees that looked great when they were 1-2 years old that suddenly, 10-20 years later, were not the quality tree I wanted. There are simply too many variables involved in the life of the tree. Therefore I want to delay the decision to a much later point in the tree’s life which trees to keep.

Instead of trying to grow the tree, I try to create the conditions in which the tree will have the greatest chance to reach that veneer quality. Those conditions are quite simply the ones that are contained within the confines of a healthy, thriving forest. Such a forest is the only place I have seen that contains the highest quality black walnut veneer tree. I just have to insure that I have the quantity of whatever tree I want to harvest growing within the confines of this forest.

Black walnut is probably the easiest tree in the world to grow, but one of the hardest trees to grow for gaining the highest quality wood. What we as a walnut growing group have done in the past is love our trees to death through coddling, prodding and poking and wondering why the patient is not getting well. Unfortunately, our trees do not respond well to the treatment of a well-tended manicured park setting.

A great, healthy productive forest is not a thing of beauty in most folks’ eyes. By this I mean a manicured lawn with every twig in place. It looks messy to most human eyes, but to “jungle eyes” it's beautiful. We do not want a rotting log on our front lawn, but the healthy forest thrives on this sort of thing. That is what forest succession is all about. Give the tree what it wants and not necessarily what you think you want.

I am starting from a cropland-prairie condition. Our greatest competitor in the initial stages of establishing a forest environment is perennial sod-forming grasses. Widely spaced walnut by itself does not produce the shade required to defeat sod-forming grasses that are highly competitive for nutrients. I know that many tree growers believe that mowing will help the plantation. Mowing actually leads to a more vigorous growth of these grasses. Mowing also introduces lawnmower disease (bark and root damage). How do I go from prairie conditions to forest conditions as quickly as possible? Dense shade is the most feasible. I could cultivate or use herbicides to keep the sod-forming grasses at bay, but that approach introduces some undesirable side effects. Both of these will keep the areas between the desired trees as bare ground. But this tactic in turn does not maintain ideal tree root zone soil conditions. Over time, however, both also tend to change the soil from a friable condition to more concrete-like.

I want these forest conditions as rapidly as possible. I would like to canopy within the first year if possible. That in itself dictates an enormous quantity of trees, many more than I see being planted by most tree growers. In my mind, the canopy stage is the start of the healthy forest. That is where ideal conditions for the little trees begin. They need that cool, moist soil in the root zone. That is what canopy time provides. I call this the “Iowa corn field effect.” I want to see if I can replicate that in my forest.

I plan to direct seed an ultra-high density companion planting to get this canopied forest in a very short time.

Seed direct is very important. It allows the other two ingredients to be easily applied quickly. A tree that grows from a seed has the best radical to terminal ratio you can ever get. Using our present methods, it is not possible to economically grow a root of the transplanted tree that matches the root of a direct seeded tree. This logic may not apply to the use of genetically superior trees unless we can somehow hybridize a tree like we have our field corn. The root is the most important part of the tree since it comes first. We just don’t see it is all. Any and all problems with seed direct that have occurred in the past can almost invariably be overcome. The biggest problem is assuming that one seed equals one live, growing tree. That is just not going to happen. You must plant with quantities of viable seed that will overcome these past failures. Most of these failures are anecdotal. I have yet to fail with viable seed planted in quantities that can overwhelm the critters and elements.

There are two methods of mechanically direct seeding. I mention only the mechanical methods since I doubt there is anyone who wishes to plant the quantities of seed I am talking about using the back-breaking shovel-and-drop-a-nut method. I have seen both methods work successfully. Disk and broadcast the seed is a fast way. It does have drawbacks that I do not like so I move on to the drill method. I like this primarily because I do not need to have all the seeds available at the same time. There are machines now that can mechanically plant the seeds in rows. (Below, you can see my hand-made planter which can keep 1 person very busy indeed. The manufactured planters are far more efficient for a single person to use.)

My seeds are still planted with a primitive row machine. I also believe that a successful, healthy forest may require several years of planting or introducing friendly species. I no longer believe in once over the ground and you are done. That is not nature’s way. Some differential planting is invariably needed due to plant growth speed and available light differences. I have major problems with two introduced grasses (canary grass and brome) so I like to know approximately where the small tree will be emerging. I get this when I have a row furrow. These grasses are extremely hard to eradicate by mowing just once, spraying herbicide to kill the regrowth and fall planting of the seed. That is due to the large quantity of dormant weed seed that inevitably remains in the ground. If I can see where the row is, then I have a general idea where a tree might be in case rescue herbicide treatment is needed later on.

The seed must be viable. Collection, storage, and planting all must be in a manner maintaining viability of that particular species. The best storage container is the earth, right where you want the seed to grow. Once again, Agriculture Handbook 450 Seeds of Woody Plants in the United States is an excellent reference for all of this.

Seed direct has given me the best chance to have young trees with the best root structure possible. The high density is to ensure the quickest canopy possible. Black walnut alone does not have dense enough shade to fully canopy (in a monoculture you can still find perennial sod-forming grasses). You must have other species that will ensure the amount of shade. Since I do not have the wherewithal to know exact numbers of each and every species that should go into the ideal forest I try to include almost every native species.

I want diversity and most definitely not a monoculture which can lead to disease, insect problems etc. I think certain trees like certain other trees for companions. In my case, I have always thought my walnut trees were very compatible with the maple (Acer) species. You must closely monitor these fast growing companion species early on.

Diversity to me does not necessarily mean planting exclusively different species of trees that have potential for harvest. I will plant any species of native tree that for that one moment in time is helping me create my “jungle effect.” The “good tree-bad tree dichotomy” only applies as helping or hurting my plan. It has no relationship to a specific species. As an example of this, I have had excellent results with the use of box elder to control grass in my understory. It can be dicey if you allow this tree to get ahead of a sun loving variety. Another tree that I have used is the ditch cedar (juniper) which really will reduce sod. Ask any Kansas, Oklahoma, or Texas rancher about that. They want grass and I want trees. I have found I can kill trees faster than most people can plant trees. 90 + % of the trees I plant will not survive to harvest and are used strictly as a nurse tree. This includes almost all of the pioneer species, which I have used in the past 25 years.

I do not look at the healthy forest as one level only. There may be several levels of canopies including the ground level ones. I really shy away from bare ground. There are many native forest plants and shrubs that are very beneficial to the healthy forest condition. I consider most of these native plants beneficial unless I can observe they are harming my so called target trees. I dropped the term trash trees when talking about certain native trees. Instead I talk about whether a tree is harmful or beneficial to my healthy forest at that one moment in time of the forest’s life.

I want that forest to start at the level of a few feet and that takes a great number of trees. Let’s call it the pyramid effect. I need a huge number of plants to completely shade the ground at a low height and as the height of the pyramid goes up I need fewer and fewer trees casting shade. It isn’t all necessarily just the shade that I’m interested in. I want minimal wind blowing through this forest, especially during hot summer months. I want that cool moist soil in the root zone. If that root zone soil becomes hot and dry the tree really stops growing. You will notice this in the cupping of the leaves during these hot dry windy summers.

Extensive shade is also beneficial for the boles of target trees. Walnut trees shading other walnut trees is not really effective. In order to inhibit the growth of limbs that can eventually contribute to defect in the final log product, heavy shade is needed throughout the life of the tree. The best veneer logs are grown primarily in the deep woods. Years ago while on a tour of a veneer mill in Columbus, Ohio, I asked a log buyer where the best veneer logs could always be found. He said he would never pay premium veneer prices for logs if he could not determine that they had been grown in the deep woods. The bole’s exposure to direct sunlight played a role in its quality. These sage words of advice were good enough for me. Seemingly this diminished quality had something to do with the hidden epicormic sprouts which would show as a pin hole during the

veneer processing. While helping a fellow plantation owner thin a monoculture plantation, I noticed that the pole-sized trees that we had thinned had an extensive number of protruding pins on the bole when the bark was peeled. I believe this phenomenon was due to sunlight shining on the bole. This experience inspired me to try to grow a tall and fairly slender sapling as rapidly as possible, meaning one still sturdy enough to support itself without becoming a spring pole. In a less densely populated plantation, wind can play havoc with a slender tree. (Something that comes to mind is the seedling protection tubes often used when growing trees. When the tube is removed, the tree just falls over. I believe that the tissue of a sapling is somehow strengthened by the gentle back-and-forth pressure provided by the wind, which the use of the tubes has prevented. The tube serves as a modified greenhouse and greenhouse plants generally have to harden off gradually after their transplantation into their permanent environment.) By thoroughly over-planting an area resulting in a crowded variety of small trees where the terminals of the target trees have full exposure to sunlight, then this planting strategy should work. But it’s one giant balancing act. Success can be achieved while the sapling still has a small diameter if the side branching dies early from lack of sufficient sunlight. Unfortunately, maximum growth can occur only if there is a maximum food factory, which means lots of branches with leaves, so at this point the volume of wood decreases, but the quality of wood increases. This is a trade-off that I gladly accept.

I do not support manual pruning because the wounds seem to heal much slower than those on a self-pruned tree. At some point in time I started to pay close attention to the processes that can occur when a branch naturally dies and falls off the tree. Nature shuts off the nutrient supply to the branch when it stops performing as it should, in other words, when, due to lack of sunlight, the branch with leaves stops sending food to the main stem. When this small diameter branch falls off, a small divot is left behind. The subsequent wound repair tissue tends to grow into the divot and flush over, rather than bulging out like the standard manual pruning found with either dead or living branches. I started to experiment with small branches that had died on black walnut and red oak, and I found that within a specific time frame, I was able to gently move the branch up slightly and then down slowly and the branch would come out much like a cork out of a bottle. The initial upward movement of the dead branch served to guarantee a break of the lower attachment point in order to avoid a bark tear. It was amazing how quickly that particular wound healed over, resulting in a wound smoother than one caused by manual sawing or pruning. The sooner the wound is smoothed over, the sooner it starts to produce possible veneer-quality wood.

As soon as the area has developed a canopy, the stem count starts to diminish due to stems not receiving adequate sunlight. (The black walnut must keep its terminal in full sunlight, otherwise it will rapidly decline and die.) At this point, there is a significant decline in sod-forming grasses as well as an increase in natural mulch due to leaf and twigs falling. The forest soil starts to change to a more friable form. There should no longer be a need to mow or use herbicides in order to control weeds, though utility and access paths will still be areas of grass that will need to be mowed.

This is what I do and what I project myself doing. I really want to try to imitate the way nature grows trees, though I’m trying to compress the time frame significantly. I work very slowly, but not quite as slowly as nature generally does. This paper is not a DIY instruction sheet on assembling a forest in 3 easy steps. I cannot state the exact quantity and types of species needed for a specific plot of ground because I do not have that knowledge. I would rather think of it as a gentle reminder to everyone that there is still a whole lot to learn about growing quality trees. I would like to report, however, that it has been a most thoroughly enjoyable and rewarding lifetime experience.

Over and out!