100 Strawberry plants, and I’m just getting started…

I've been growing plants ever since I had a space of my own—which started with pots on apartment balconies back in college. Every move since then has come with a little more room to garden, until last Christmas when my family and I took a big leap and bought 5.07 acres just outside the small town of Scio, Oregon.

Scio has fewer than a thousand residents and a long history as a logging community dating back to its founding in 1866. Our property sits on a hillside with drinkable well water, three seasonal streams that run during the winter, and plenty of potential. It also came with more invasive plants than I knew what to do with. The lower acreage was almost completely covered in invasive grasses, shrubs, and Himalayan blackberry.

As someone who loves to forage, I f%@&ing hate Himalayan blackberry.

If you've never dealt with it before, the thorns don't just scratch you—they break off under your skin like tiny splinters. I've spent more evenings than I'd like to admit digging them out with tweezers, convinced I'd finally gotten every last one, only to have the area swell up again a day or two later. It doesn't take long to understand why so many people have a personal grudge against this plant.

This spring I decided it was time to start reclaiming the property.

I armed myself with pruning shears, a pickaxe, chainsaws, weed whackers, hedge trimmers, and more determination than common sense. Some of the blackberry brambles were over seven feet tall and had canes nearly half an inch thick. We even thought about bringing in goats at one point, hoping they'd help with the problem. Unfortunately, according to the farmer we talked to, these blackberry patches were so well established and woody that the goats weren't going to help.

I've made good progress, but Himalayan blackberry is incredibly persistent. Those massive root systems store an enormous amount of energy, allowing the plants to send up vigorous new growth almost as fast as I can remove it. I'm also trying to avoid relying on stronger herbicides whenever possible. A family member suggested trying a vinegar and dish soap mixture next, so that's probably the next experiment.

One thing this property has taught me is that gardening on five acres requires a very different mindset than gardening in a backyard.

I'm used to pulling weeds by hand.

That works fine when you're talking about a few flower beds.

It's a different story when you're looking at acres of invasive grasses and realizing you don't even own a tractor.

So I tried something completely new for me: solarization.

I covered sections of the hillside with thick black plastic, which blocks sunlight and traps heat underneath. Without sunlight, the plants can't photosynthesize, and the heat essentially cooks the vegetation beneath the plastic over time.

I know covering part of a hillside with plastic probably sounds strange coming from someone who cares so much about native ecosystems, so I want to explain my thinking. First, I plan to reuse this plastic until it completely wears out. I don't want it becoming unnecessary waste or contributing to microplastics. Second, before starting this project, I couldn't identify a single native plant growing on that hillside. It was almost entirely invasive species.

The biggest surprise came when I lifted the plastic.

I expected the soil life to suffer, but instead I found plenty of insects and other decomposers thriving underneath. The trapped moisture and warmth had created an environment where the dead vegetation was breaking down quickly, and there was far more life beneath the plastic than I anticipated.

After a couple of weeks, I cut X-shaped openings into the plastic, folded back the corners, and planted one hundred strawberry starts.

I like growing unusual varieties whenever I can, so I chose Yellow Alpine strawberries (Fragaria vesca) along with Oregon native Woodland strawberries.

The Yellow Alpine strawberries are considered a gourmet variety with an incredibly sweet flavor that reminds me of pineapple. Oregon is also home to three native strawberry species: the Coastal Strawberry (Fragaria chiloensis), the Woodland Strawberry (Fragaria vesca), and the Blueleaf or Wild Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana).

Within just a few weeks of planting, we were harvesting pounds of strawberries.

Of course, we weren't the only ones excited about them.

Rollie pollies, earwigs, birds, yellowjackets, deer, and even the neighbor's chickens all seemed to know exactly when the berries were ripe. If I missed even one day of harvesting, there was a good chance someone else had already helped themselves.

I'd always figured that if a strawberry touched the ground, it belonged to Mother Nature. The pill bugs and I had an understanding.

But, other bugs were waiting for their turn.

Rather than fight the insects, I started harvesting the berries slightly earlier. Garden strawberries can be picked before they're completely red, although I still think they taste best when allowed to finish ripening on the plant.

Someone also suggested painting rocks bright red and placing them among the strawberries to trick birds into pecking the fake fruit before the real berries appeared. It actually seemed to help for a little while, right up until an Oregon rainstorm removed most of the paint. Looking back, I probably should have listened to my wife when she suggested a clear coat before we put them outside.

The neighbor's chickens required a different solution. I got pretty good at catching them and carrying them back over the fence whenever they wandered into the garden. Eventually my dog Hendrix cornered one before I noticed. There were feathers everywhere, but fortunately everyone walked away. The chickens have mostly stayed in their own yard since then—although not before eating every watermelon and cantaloupe seedling I'd planted.

The deer were next.

I built a fence around the strawberries, and it worked surprisingly well.

Unfortunately, it also encouraged the deer to redirect their attention toward my newly planted orchard instead. That's a story for another post, but I'm currently looking into humane deterrents because I'd really like those young trees to become established before the Fall.

The yellowjackets remain an ongoing challenge. My plan next spring is to set bait traps earlier in the season, but for now I'm mostly relying on harvesting fruit before it's fully ripe.

I should probably mention that I've been attacked by entire yellowjacket nests three different times in my life. One of those stories involves my siblings locking me outside as a kid.

My therapist knows that story well. She thought it was hilarious.

The next stage of this project is expanding the hillside into a full berry garden with raspberries, cultivated blackberries (the well-behaved kind), blueberries, and huckleberries. I've already prepared another section of the hill using the same solarization method.

Will I keep using the plastic?

Maybe.

I'd certainly love to find an equally effective, more environmentally friendly approach if one exists. If you've dealt with Himalayan blackberry, invasive grasses, deer, or berry-loving wildlife, I'd love to hear what has worked for you. One of my favorite parts of gardening is that there's always something new to learn, and I'm sure this property still has plenty left to teach me.