Resilient Red Cascade

It's official, folks.   ProfessorRoush is declaring that his beloved 'Red Cascade' is well on its way to recovery.  This formerly dismembered and pack-rat-pissed-on climbing miniature is fighting its way back from oblivion, or more accurately from an illness that I hereby designate as "Pack Rat Den Doldrums."  As the first person to describe the condition in roses, I think I deserve the right to name it.



You'll recall that, in early May, I ripped out the pack rat den that had been woven around the plump and supple six foot long canes of  'Red Cascade', and I hacked the remnants of the rose back to sparse six inch stubs.  This (at right) was its appearance after the massacre, a few green canes among a lot of brown canes, all barely free of a mound of rat-urine-encrusted mulch.






But, here it is on July 4th, photographed on my iPhone from the seat of my lawn mower, blooming for the first time in a year, and attempting to add its short cascade of red blossoms to the red, white and blue celebrations of the day.  The new, smaller canes are pencil-thick and growing longer by the minute, and the foliage is completely blackspot free.  It started blooming almost a week ago, sparse at first, but it seems determined to make up for lost time.  I suppose that I should grudgingly chalk up the new found vigor of 'Red Cascade' to the rat urine and feces infested mound of mulch I left around its base but I don't really want to think about it.

Everyone in the neighborhood is trying to get into the act, however.  A week ago, as 'Red Cascade' started blooming, I snapped this photo, again from the lawn mower.  A native Asclepias tuberosa was trying to steal my attention away from my intensively-cared-for rose and it was doing a fair job of it.  It sprung up last year, probably enticed to the spot by the as-yet-unnoticed aforementioned rat droppings.  It's really disgusting to think about this bounty as a product of rat poop, but, I suppose, organic manure is organic manure, whether it is rat crap or cow manure or donkey dung.  Luckily, I know that 'Red Cascade' is scentless so I won't be risking Hantavirus by trying to sniff the blooms.

Perfect the Dawn

Last fall I finally broke down and planted a classic rose on a new pergola leading from my garden down to the cow pond; a 'New Dawn' climber that I hope will grow next year to grace the south side of the pergola and cover the 8 foot span.

'New Dawn', KSU Rose Garden, 2010

 I don't know exactly what took so long for me to finally add 'New Dawn' to my garden.  Perhaps the poor quality of the plants I'd seen, limited availability, or always having a different or better choice to make when sending in a mail order let me keep putting it aside.  But a local nursery had them on hand, and potted, late  last season I was filling a new spot.  Of course, I don't have a picture of the rose in bloom yet in my garden, but the picture at the left of the 'New Dawn' in the KSU Gardens should suffice so that all can appreciate the spectacular display of this beauty.  At least I already know the rose is a survivor in my climate because I've watched the KSU rose through ten seasons now, trellised against the north wall of the old dairy barn where it gets little sun.  It has been an incredibly healthy rose at the KSU rose garden, and never has blackspot despite its site in long shade.  Here in Kansas, the moderately full blooms occur in small clusters at a frequency of 3 flushes over the summer.  The rose has a  moderate sweet fragrance, but the beauty is in the blush pink coloration of the blooms, as pictured at the right, below.  The canes grow about ten feet long and 'New Dawn' puts up many strong canes every year. 

'New Dawn'

There are probably very few gardeners who aren't familiar with this rose, but, if you have missed out, this beautiful light pink Large-Flowered climber has a bit of a mystery of a history.  It is believed to be a sport of the single-blooming Dr. W. Van Fleet (hybrid Wichuraiana), and was, according to most sources, "discovered" by the Somerset Rose Nursery and introduced into the US by Henry Dreer in 1930.  I was fascinated to find out that The Plant Patent Act was signed into law in 1930 by Herbert Hoover and 'New Dawn' has the distinction of being the first patented plant in the United States; PP1.  'New Dawn' was also named one of the first of Texas A&M's Earth-Kind Roses, adding still more evidence for its vigor and health in the Great Plains climate.

Unknown white climber, single blooming

I do have an unknown identity short white-flowered climber, a rose I obtained from rustling a cutting near an elementary school in town, that I initally thought was 'White Dawn', but due to its lack of repeat bloom and decreased number of petals, I now think this one is an entirely different animal. I don't, however, now have any clue as to what it might be.  Pictured as a young rose in my garden at left, it seems to be healthy and grows canes about eight feet long.  It blooms every year in a nice display over several weeks, but then its done, finished, for the year. It's beautiful, but it'll likely remain a mystery as long as it grows in my garden.