by John Biel

The crab apple of this article was collected for several reasons: its rootage and trunk line and its flowers. The roots were nicely placed, although not plentiful, and the trunk had a subtle movement to it. These features were determined the year before collecting when all the apples were in bloom. These desirable bonsai elements you can judge for yourself from the pictures accompanying this article.

Finding such material was a real treat because the area in which these apples were growing was overgrown with knee-high tall grass, weeds and shrubby trees. Apples, as well as many other trees that grew in this sort of environment, seemed to end up with straight trunks until they grew beyond the height of the surrounding grasses. That was the case with this apple as well. The trunk above the first branch, about 8 feet up, was a lot more interesting, and had an attractive, ready made branch structure as well. Considering the ordeal of collecting this apple, it might have been just as easy for me to try air layering the top! Anyway, it was decided that this tree, and a few others that my friends and I had staked out, were going to get dug. Among the friends in question was David Rowe, who is now the Editor of the Journal of the American Bonsai Society. David lived in Ontario then and had discovered an abandoned growing field of a local nursery. He got permission for all of us to dig whatever we wanted. He is also the one who assured us that "digging them would be a piece of cake; they are all growing in sand. Just bring a shovel." So arrangements were made to dig our trees in early spring of 1992.

Collecting the Tree
Generally speaking, collecting deciduous material, such as apples, is considerably different from collecting conifers, such as larches and spruces. With those, for example, it is always a good idea to get a pretty decent root ball. Also,they generally grow (in our area) in rocky, shallow soil, unprotected against the worst nature can offer. Apples on the other hand and mine in particular, tend to grow in fairly protected areas. Hence their trunks are frequently not as interesting as those of the conifers. Apples grow also in relatively rich soil, and more often than not, have a deeper root system. As a result, they enjoy a reasonably stable supply of moisture and nutrients. These factors do not lead to stunted growth.

One thing apples have in common with conifers, however, is that they will grow in a variety of soils, from those rich in humus to almost pure sand and, finally clay. It seems it's the composition of the soil that essentially determines the kind of root system a tree growing in the wild will have.

On the day of the dig the tree was growing actively. The buds were swelling. It was early spring. The ground was thawed and saturated with water. It was very wet. Kneeling was not a good idea. To begin, the years of accumulated dead grass was raked away from the trunk with a three - pronged steel rake. This alone was enough to work up a good sweat, but it revealed two interesting things. The first was that the tree had attractive buttressing. The second thing revealed was that the promised sandy soil was, in fact, clay - clinging, cloying clay. Further exploration revealed that the root system had penetrated the clay only slightly -about the depth of the shovel. The lateral roots had not grown out too far but were also embedded in clay. The "surface soil" consisted of grass roots and decades of matted mulch.

In retrospect, the problem with the dig was that I approached it as if I were collecting a conifer. I dug a trench around the tree. Not an easy task, because as soon as a shovel full of clay was taken out, the hole filled with water. But I persevered and ended up with a nice little moat. With the trench sort of finished and now full of water, the next step was to reduce the lateral roots because it was obvious to me that, leaving them as they were, was ridiculous. To achieve this goal, I used a Japanese fine - toothed folding saw. Unfortunately, a couple of swift strokes through the clay and wood were enough to clog the teeth. Lucky for me there was a lot of water handy to rinse them out.

As a result of this struggle, bending was getting painful. There was no way I could reach the taproot by bending over. Even though the tree might only have a short taproot, it nevertheless had one, and it had to be cut.There was nothing for it but to get down on my knees. Still, I couldn't get under the root ball. Finally, it dawned on me that if I could rock the tree to one side I'd be able to get the job done. (Even if that didn't work I'd at least have a good reason for being so muddy and wet.)

After many valiant attempts I was convinced that rocking the tree wouldn't work. The problem was that I was trying to muscle a tree that was nearly 15 feet tall with one hand, while on my knees in mud and water, and at the same time trying to cut a possibly non-existing tap root with a Japanese pull saw with clogged teeth. It eventually occurred to me that reducing the height of the tree might be a good idea. So, by making two cuts one above the other on opposite sides of the trunk (in order to avoid splitting it), I reduced the tree something close to 4 feet. This made it a lot more manageable and, thanks to my, ah, somewhat compact build, I was able to pry - what was now a stump - into a slanting position. And, yes, there was a taproot, a weenie of a thing, to be sure, but still a taproot that had to be cut.

With the lateral and tap roots now cut, it was time to psyche myself up for what I knew would be another hernia-inducing effort: lifting out the stump. With a sucking sound it came out, along with clumps of grass and
the ubiquitous clay clinging between the roots.

The stump was really heavy! I thought it was because of all that clay hanging off it. Solution: get rid of clay. So I dragged the stump to an old but deeper excavation hole full of water to wash it clean. The best way to do that, I figured, was to get the stump into the water, and while straddling the hole, grasp the trunk - all four feet of it - and energetically pump it up and down in the water.

It worked! But as with most spur of the moment good ideas, there is often a short- coming. Mine was no exception. The action totally wiped me out. I got wetter and muddier than I had ever been in my life, and I still had a long trek ahead of me, some of it through knee-high tangled grass. But I took some consolation from the fact that others were just as badly off, but I, at least, had a root ball that was clean! To my amazement, the stump wasn't all that much lighter. In thinking about it later, it made sense. Apple wood is dense and heavy at the best of time, and since the tree was actively growing when it was collected, who knows how much water had been sucked into the trunk? Anyway, I did shorten the roots some more while reflecting on the potential futility of what I had just gone through: the tree might die. With that happy thought in mind, the stump was bagged and lashed to my backpack for the trip home.

As the saying goes, experience is the best teacher. As a result, I have learned, the hard way, that, with apples (and other deciduous material I have collected since that eventful day), it's OK to bare root the material and that you don't need a very big root ball.The root ball needs to be just big enough to preserve the taper of the lateral roots. I learned also the following:

- Apple stumps are really, really heavy.
- Enthusiasm to collect an apple decreases in direct proportion to the difficulties of the dig and
the distance the stump has to be carried.
- When it's muddy and generally wet there is no way to stay clean & dry.
- When it comes to apple stumps, bigger isn't always better.
- That I hate clay.
- That in this case, though, the rewards of collecting justified collecting.