NABF Newsletter #6

Feature #7

Bonsai in Alaska

by Paul Marmora

There have been bonsai enthusiasts in Alaska for at least 25-30 years. The problem was that none of them knew about each other. In the mid-1990’s, an article appeared in the newspaper about a gentleman in Palmer, Alaska, who was doing interesting things to miniature trees. People started to contact him and began to get together.

Alaska is renowned for its lack of conformity. Throughout our history, people came here because they wanted to do things their own way, and they didn’t want a lot of rules and structure. When the first bonsai people got together, they met casually, refusing to formalize anything. Finally, a woman named Sandy Markon started teaching classes and her new students decided to develop a club. In March of 1998, the Cook Inlet Bonsai Study Group was founded, under the tutelage and support of the nearest large bonsai club, Puget Sound Bonsai from the Seattle, WA area. Tragically, Sandy passed away in August, 1999, but she did live to see her dreams of an Alaska bonsai club realized.

Alaska bonsai group has a remarkable selection of native species with which to work. The southern section of Alaska is nearly the same latitude as northern Japan. We have many similar species. The Alaskan black spruce is comparable to the Ezo spruce. The Alaska Juniper is a needle juniper. We have nearly 200 types of willow and there is a native Arctic Birch that makes a wonderful bonsai. One of our favorite trees is the Mountain Hemlock, which grows in abundance in sheltered and foggy areas of our local mountains. Many of the alpine rock garden-type plants grow on the tops of our mountains and make ideal companion plants. Aspens and birches are plentiful. Some of us have used a native Alder as well. We have native Spirea and Potentilla and a number of conifers. There are even a couple of Maples that live here. There is a Larch that is native to Alaska, although it is being hit hard by a larch sawfly, and their forests are starting to die out.

The goal of bonsai is to display trees that give physical testimony to the hardship of life, barely growing under adverse conditions, struggling against nature, buried under snow and blasted by frigid winds. Most of the trees growing in Alaska fit the bill admirably. Alaska is vast—comprising about two fifths of the contiguous United States. In fact, if the tip of the Aleutian chain were placed in California, the panhandle would be in Georgia. Even with this enormous land mass, Alaska has no more residents than does Rhode Island. Unexplored wilderness abounds, and there are lots of tortured trees waiting to meet people who appreciate them.

Seeing as Alaska is out of the beaten path, we do not have many bonsai instructors passing through. For the most part, we are self-taught. We try to get the word out that we have a standing offer for bonsai people. If you come to Alaska, we will take you on a dig, but we will expect you to teach a workshop. A few people have taken us up on that.

When we take folks from the lower 48 out on a dig, they are incredulous that our trees have no tap root. Due to the permafrost and the long amount of time the ground stays frozen, the roots of trees just grow sideways. We dig along the drip line to a depth of about 6-8 inches, push on the trunk and the entire root ball pops up at an even depth – almost perfect for a bonsai pot. One thing that is rather unnerving for them, though, is the fact that we often bring guns or air horns on the digs. The trees are not the only things that are waking up in the springtime, and some of them are pretty mean from hunger. I am referring, of course, to bears.

Pots are a challenge, as we have snow cover about seven months of the year. It is very rare that any of our outdoor trees are kept in a ceramic pot. We use mica, plastic and wooden pots we make ourselves from cedar fencing. Supplies were extremely difficult to find, so we started importing pots, wire and tools to sell. One of our folks sells bags of soil made from native decomposed granite and a mixture of composting hemlock and spruce bark.

In addition to working with and helping each other, we support local fairs and festivals. There is an appreciable Japanese population in the Anchorage area, but none of them is working with bonsai. In December, I was honored to be asked to help plan the Japan day festivities for May 2004. We support the Japanese immersion school, the annual mochi festival and other Japanese events by displaying our trees and suiseki at various festivals and meetings. The first time we showed up at an event, all the Japanese folks looked confused and searched the group for a Japanese face. Now, when we arrive at an event with bonsai, it is one of the jokes that the Japanese culture groups have to borrow Japanese trees from all the non-Japanese people. Everybody laughs and laughs.

Our biggest events are the Alaska Botanical Garden Fair in June and the Alaska State Fair in August. Volunteers staff the booths and displays and work on trees. We are there to answer questions, and to watch over the trees, and as such are lauded for our contributions. Most of us, though, just like the uninterrupted time to work on our entire collections. Last year we had a display at the Fairbanks fair and have been asked to display in a new fair in Juneau in June. The word is spreading. The bulk of the club is in the Anchorage area, but we have one person in Juneau, one in Valdez and some interested parties in Fairbanks.

Growing bonsai in the state of Alaska is a challenge. The seasons in Alaska are extreme. In the summer, the sun comes up at about 3:00 A.M. and sets at about 11:00P.M.—at least in the Anchorage area. Even though the growing season is only three months long with the high temperatures averaging in the mid 70’s, the intense sunshine and long days make things grow profusely. There are days when we swear we can see the trees and plants growing. After all the exhaustion of the summer season, we all have to take steps to keep our fingers dirty in the winter. Ficus, Chinese Elms, Jades and other tropical trees are our winter playthings. Pyracanthas also do well in the house. Most of us have some kind of plant light system to maintain our charges’ growth. Some of us are fortunate enough to have greenhouses, others cool down a bedroom, a few of us have huge halide lights set up. We joke that if the police come to investigate the lights, maybe they will join the bonsai club too.

One of our biggest challenges is wintering over temperate trees. Many of these trees can stand the cold we have, but cannot tolerate the extended time of dormancy. Japanese Maples just do not thrive after an eight month winter. This is where the greenhouses come in. One can even rent space in a local nursery for $30 per month per plant, but it gets rather expensive after a while. Of course, most of the people we meet have tried to keep junipers inside the house and they die ‘for some reason.’ We are extremely dry here in winter, so keeping things humid enough is another challenge we face. Generally speaking, we use soil so porous that it needs water daily, but that will keep the humidity level high enough, especially as we use pebble trays.

Native trees we leave out of doors. The window to work on our trees is fairly short, as the intense burst of sunshine promotes explosions of growth. We can dig until mid-June in most years, although the past year had a spring that lasted only about 3 weeks. Then, everything burst into full leaf. On the high mountain peaks, one can often dig until July and still find ice around the roots. Fall normally lasts about two weeks. Things start to freeze in September, with the first snow normally falling in October. The Anchorage area usually has 4-5 feet of snow build-up, although areas like Girdwood and Valdez can have snow accumulation of more than 25 feet. In certain micro-climactic locations, there are desiccating winds that will blast all the life out of anything left in its path. Bonsai growers have to have shelter to put their trees behind. I have been so desperate to have insulating snow on my trees that I have been known to drag the snow blower onto the lawn (much to the confusion of the neighbors) and to aim the vent to where my trees are stored. We try to let them get covered with snow and just wait for the spring to come. …and wait. …and wait. After that is all over, we wait just a bit more.

One of our biggest winter hazards is foraging moose. They seem to think highly of humans and are grateful that we have imported all these lovely foreign trees with which tempt their palates. Our worse nightmare is to come home one day and see a moose chewing happily away with a little pot dangling out of the corner of its mouth. I have permitted my family to put a seven foot high dog kennel in the back yard, on the condition that in winter, I am allowed to store my native and hardy trees in it. A moose will step over a four foot fence as though it were not there.

Although there are many challenges to fulfilling the bonsai habit in Alaska, it can be accomplished with a little determination and persistence. These are qualities that enumerated the pioneer spirit of the early Alaskans. We hope that spirit will also make the art of bonsai one that will make a lasting mark in our state.

Remember our invitation to all who want to go on a dig—teach us a workshop and we will be happy to take you out. If you would like to contact us, you can either E-mail me at pmarmora@aol.com (please mention the word ‘Bonsai’ in the subject line, or I won’t open it), or you can write to us at the Cook Inlet Bonsai Study Group, P. O. Box 242583, Anchorage, AK, 99524-2583. We love to meet new people and are eager to show off our state.