Dublin Trail

The other day, I hiked Mt Monadnock, the majestic 3,165 foot mountain here in southwestern New Hampshire.  I chose my favorite route, a 2.4 mile long path on the North side of the mountain called the Dublin Trail. I started out with snow shoes but enough people had already been on the trail that boots with MICROspikes (a sort of portable, pocket-sized crampon-like traction device) was all that was needed. I like hiking in the winter and experiencing the, sometimes harsh weather. In this case, it was a clear day about 28 degrees F.

Whenever I am hiking, I am always looking for inspiration for the garden. I liked all the bark interest on the birch trees about half the way up the trail.

The vertical trunks against the snow--something to emulate in my evolving woodland garden

This tree had a great trunk with character

In the early 1800's a series of fires denuded the upper part of the mountain of most of the vegetation

There are still wind-blown red spruce and scrubby shrubs as you approach tree-line

The Dublin Trail and the Marlboro Trail merge near the top of the mountain

A view of the Pumpelly Ridge on the northeast side of the Mountain 

The Peak of Mount Monadnock

When I got home, I took this shot of Monadnock from my garden. I continued to be inspired by my hikes in New Hampshire. Right now, at this time of year, it is the combinations of conifers, trees with interesting bark, and the structure of the shrubs that remind me of all that the garden can offer in the long winter months here in New England. As much as I love (and often incorporate into the garden) all the enticing exotic woodies that I discover at places like the Arnold Arboretum (a future post) I remain committed to making the woodland garden feel at home here in New Hampshire.

Montana Jewel Heist

The Jewel Basin From Mount Aeneas

The Picnic Lakes

Mountain Goats Near Mount Aeneas Summit

Winding Pathway

Subalpine Fir Abies lasiocarpa Along Trail

Another Subalpine Trail

Field of Glacier Lily Erythronium grandiflorum

Naturalized Alpine daisies

Herbaceous Clematis

Last week we visited my wife's relatives who have a house on Swan Lake near Bigfork, Montana. It was my first trip to Montana and I fell in love with this region of the state just south of Glacier National Park. We spent a lot of time on the lake kayaking, tubing and water skiing but my favorite part of the trip was hiking in the Jewel Basin in Flathead National Park Wilderness Area about a half hour drive from the house.

The Jewel Basin gets its name because the high alpine lakes that circle the basin form what looks like a jewel necklace from the air. There was quite a bit of snow still on the ground and it reminded me of hiking in New Hampshire in April. July is the best month to observe the wildflowers of this subalpine habitat. The most common flower I encountered was the bright yellow glacier lily, Erythronium grandiflorum. I often saw it in great masses in fields and drifts along the trails leading to the summit of Mount Aeneas. The green corn lily, Veratrum viride, with its wide pleated green foliage, was a wonderful contrast to the bold architectural tufts glaucous leaves of the ubiquitous bear grass (actually in the lily family) Xerophyllum tenax.

What fascinated me most was the distribution of large drifts of perennials on a small scale and the subalpine fir, Abies lasiocarpa, on a grand scale. There was much to inspire me as I continue to develop the so-called wild garden in the lower level of my garden. I am particularly interested in foliage textures rather than the ephemeral beauty of flowers which are fleeting. The plantsmen in me tends to collect small numbers of a large variety of plants which ends up looking fussy and contrived.

When I returned to Peterborough, I saw the wild garden with new eyes and realized I want to have greater masses, but fewer species, of plants with interesting textures. I can't use the exact species that I observed in the Jewel Basin but I can try to replicate the feeling they evoked. I plan to relocate several of the spruce trees, Picea orientalis 'Gowdy', to form a more natural pattern like the one I observed with the subalpine fir but this time on a much smaller scale.

The recent drought has actually been fortuitous because it has prompted me to remove plants that pouted, like Veronicastrum virginicum, for example, while I was away. I will add more of the very tough but beautiful Trachystemon orientalis and larger drifts of epimediums and hellebores. I will most likely remove the stunted sourwood, Oxydendrum arboreum, and replace it with another silverbell, Halesia tetrapetala 'U. Conn. Wedding Bells', which has survived admirably. The search is now on for interesting plants that make the grade for a mass planting and are well-adapted to the dry woodland that I am creating.