Staking our plum tree

A couple of weeks ago, I showed you the jury-rigged solution Brian and I cobbled together for getting our plum tree upright in the wake of Tropical Storm Isaias. At the time, we knew it wasn't really a permanent solution, because the wooden stake we'd belted the tree to wasn't dug in deep enough to stay put in the face of another severe storm. So we began a hunt for equipment that could secure the tree in place more permanently. After examining several types of stakes that could be used for this purpose, Brian settled some 30-inch "earth anchors," which have a spiral-shaped bit that bites into the earth as you turn the spike. These came as a set of four — more than we'd need for this job — along with some short bits of fastening wire, presumably intended for use with a tent (which we wouldn't need) and several clamps for tightening it (which we would).

This four-stake kit had to be specially ordered from Home Depot, so we had to wait about a week to pick it up at the store. Once it arrived, we made one trip into the store to pick it up and ferry it out to the car, then went back in to pick up the other items we needed. First, we bought 30 feet of wire rope that said it had a "working load limit of 340 pounds." The entire tree may weigh more than this (we can't really get it onto a scale), but since we planned to install two cables and neither one would have to support the tree's entire weight, we figured it would be adequate. Brian also spent an extra 25 bucks on a tool specially for cutting the wire rope, having learned while constructing the raspberry trellis that neither tin snips nor a hacksaw is really adequate for this job. Even if we never used them again after this job, it would be a worthwhile investment to minimize the hassle involved in what was likely to be a pretty tricky task. We didn't bother spending extra for protective sleeves to keep the wire from cutting into the tree trunk, because Brian figured he could just cut a couple of one-foot lengths off our old garden hose (which he'd already needed to cut down once already to eliminate a leak at one end). If the hose ended up becoming nonfunctional, eh, we'd just go back and buy a new one.

Before he could get started with the staking process, Brian pruned off one more low-hanging branch from the tree, since he'd determined it would get in his way while he was installing the ropes. After that, he moved on to the first step of the actual staking: finding appropriate locations for the stakes and screwing them into the ground. And, unexpectedly, this proved to be the hardest part of the job. Upon close examination, the stakes said that they were suitable only for use on "uncompacted soil," and the heavy clay in our yard fits this description only marginally at best. But since it was what we had to work with, Brian decided to just set a stake in, start turning, and hope for the best. However, his first attempt was a bit of a disappointment. Pictures he'd seen of these stakes showed them drilled right down into the ground with only the eye sticking up, but the first stake he selected hit a rock or some other barrier when there were still about 7 inches of it above ground level, and it simply would not go any farther.

So he gave up on that one and hoped he might do better with the second stake, which he set at about a 90-degree angle from the first. But the longer he struggled with this second attempt, the more apparent it became that the first, which had managed to get about two feet of stake below ground level, had actually been a rousing success. The second one got stuck while it was sticking up by a good 10 inches, and despite his attempts to gain more leverage — first with his wrench threaded through the eye of the stake, and then with another of the 30-inch stakes — it wouldn't budge. It turned, but it didn't go in any deeper. Thinking perhaps he'd just chosen a particularly bad spot, Brian tried again with a third stake a little distance off from the first. This one was even less successful, getting stalled while the eye was about a foot above ground level. He tried again with the fourth stake and managed to get it in a little farther than than the third, but not as far as the second. So he ended up pulling the third and fourth stakes back out, leaving little dimples in the turf, and using only the first and second.

Next, he had to thread the wire rope around the tree. He had previously cut two sections from the garden hose without issue, so he ran the wire through one piece of hose, then around the tree, and secured the loose end with not one but two of the nuts provided with the stakes. He figured this would add an extra layer of security, since if one nut came loose there would still be one holding the wire. The other end of the wire ran down and through the eye in the stake, passing through a little metal trough that came with the kit, and was likewise secured with two nuts.

After snipping off the end of this first wire — and marveling at how easy this was to do with his new wire shears — he repeated the entire process with the second stake. Through the hose, around the tree, two nuts to hold it, then through the stake with another two nuts to secure it. (He did all this while leaving the original wooden stake and strap in place, since it had to keep the tree upright until the new lines were installed.)

The last part of the process was to tighten the clamps on the wire ropes. Having two at each end also made this step easier, since he could let one fastener hold the rope in place while he adjusted the other. To increase the tension on the rope, he kept the outer clamp fastened, loosened the inner one, then clamped onto the rope with his Channellock wrench and pulled more of it through the hole into the gap between the two clamps, thereby shortening the part that was between the clamp and the tree. He then twisted this segment of rope to hold it taut while he tightened the nuts on the clamp back up again.

Once both ropes were tightened up as snug as they would go, Brian loosened the luggage strap that had been holding the tree in place, removed it, and pulled out the wooden stake that had been holding up the tree. And since the tree did not promptly fall over, we can declare the staking process a success for the time being. But we won't know for sure until the next big storm.

In the meantime, we had one new gardening problem to solve: what to do with the patch of lawn that was now unmowable on account of the wires. And this was where I came into the process.

Since we have tons of barren strawberry plants growing wild in our back yard, it had occurred to me that maybe if we could successfully establish some of these plants in the front, we could get them to take over that corner of the front yard as they had in the back. (Heck, as far as we were concerned, they could take over the whole yard, barring the new flowerbed, and then we wouldn't have to mow it at all.) So, earlier that weekend, I'd gone out back and pulled out a whole bunch of these plants (which needed thinning anyway, as they were starting to impinge on the area set aside for our honeyberry bushes) with an eye to transplanting them to the front.

Brian helpfully turfed out a section of grass for me (and by "grass," I mean "mostly weeds") roughly two feet in diameter, and I got to work planting the strawberry plants in it. These are all long runners with clumps of little, shallow roots at various intervals, so I just sort of stretched them out across the bare patch in various directions to cover as much of it as possible. Then I dug a tiny hole for each clump of roots, buried it, gave them all a nice top-dressing of compost, watered the patch thoroughly, and crossed my fingers.

Two weeks later, the strawberries seem to be reasonably happy in their new home. They haven't filled in the area entirely, let alone spread beyond it, but the individual plants look green and healthy. If they continue to hold up well, I'll try turfing out and replacing more sections with them, with an eye to eventually getting at least that corner of the yard filled in with a no-mow ground cover. If they don't, maybe I'll look into filling in the gaps with clover or some other "no mow" lawn alternative (though I have my doubts as to whether any of them can truly live up to their name).