My First Nursery Catalog

 

I published my first wholesale nursery catalog in 1984, four years after I purchased (on mortgage) my plot just south of Forest Grove, Oregon, and where I began my initial acquisitions and propagations. I went forth and multiplied, subduing the weeds and other adversaries. I had no money and a huge debt already, so I worked at other nurseries by day, and upon my own at night and weekends; but even when one is able to commit to 80+ hour workweeks and a life-and-death worry-obsession with commercial survival, there's still no guarantee that you will succeed. Before my first catalog I would type out – no computers then – on a sheet of paper what I had to sell, then take it to a printer to get a couple hundred copies. These would be folded in half, taped closed, then addressed by hand and mailed to nurseries listed in the Oregon nursery directory. That was a lot of work for someone still working full time for another nursery, but fortunately I was able to sell just about everything I could propagate.

Buchholz was a very different nursery back then, with all sales being lining-out stock to other wholesale growers. I was a self-taught grafter and I provided higher-end plants to growers who could enhance their otherwise mundane product lines. Plus, I would seek out new plants, like dwarf Tsuga cultivars, and I could offer rooted cuttings to my customers. In 1984 a Seattle-area nursery discovered me and asked to purchase some of my older plants. There wasn't much I wanted to part with, but we did put together a small order and he left happy. I have sold plants to this nursery every year since, the most recent shipment last week, and now the daughter has me wrapped around her finger due to her professional, happy demeanor. We still sell liners, but 90% of our income now comes from specimen sales to independent garden stores like my first Seattle customer. We have never, nor ever will, sell to box stores.

John Mitsch

I admit that I was in the right place at the right time to build a wholesale nursery, and I shamelessly copied what John Mitsch was doing in Oregon, except I could also offer, unlike Mitsch Nursery, grafted liners. Labor was plentiful and relatively inexpensive, unlike now, and my first full-time employee began in 1985. Lets take a look at what Buchholz was peddling in the early years:

First, note from the pages above that I was grafting a lot of “species” Picea (spruce) and Pinus (pine), as well as cultivars of others. Picea breweriana is one example of a species that could not be found in the trade in the early 1980s. My start came from the Hoyt Arboretum in Portland, Oregon, and they still have about 10 specimens planted on a steep hillside. They are of seedling origin and do well because of the sharp drainage. Seedling P. breweriana flounders at my nursery because my soil is too heavy, besides the trees are extremely slow growing. Scions grafted onto the vigorous, more adaptable “Norway spruce” (Picea abies) thrive and still retain their weeping character, and I have two such trees in my front yard, each about 30 years old, and they would need 60 years from seed to attain equal size.

Picea breweriana

The Hoyt P. breweriana were away from the road and inaccessible to the public, and when I requested permission to cut I thought I would be left alone. But nooo, a pregnant assistant accompanied me to assure that I would behave myself, and she insisted that I cut from the back side of the trees. Due to the slope there were no good scions, but I did cut a few feeble shoots. Later, alone, I returned to harvest what I wanted from the higher ground, and I promise I didn't ruin any of their trees, not at all.

Picea morrisonicola

Picea morrisonicola

Picea morrisonicola was not in the trade in 1984. I explained before that I was a tree collector first and a nurseryman as a necessary evil. An exotic spruce from Taiwan with slender, short green needles is something I wanted in my collection, and I still have a nice specimen in my Conifer Field. It is plump, dense and pyramidal so far, much more ornamentally attractive than the scrappy trees from the wild depicted in Conifers Around The World by Debreczy and Racz. These two Hungarian tree experts indicate that “Picea morrisonicola is one of the southernmost spruces of the world along with P. farreri of Yunnan and Burma/Myanmar.” I acquired the Picea farreri last winter, so you see that I am still collecting rare species for my own enjoyment.

Pinus bungeana

Pinus bungeana

I quickly fell in love with Pinus bungeana, the “Chinese Lacebark pine,” and no one else was offering grafts or seedlings of it, and so I had the market to myself. One winter I grafted (onto Pinus strobus) and sold nearly 1,000 P. bungeana, but the pent-up desire for it has waned and all I propagate now are named cultivars such as 'Great Wall', 'Silver Ghost' and 'Temple Gem', with the latter being a semi-dwarf cultivar discovered and introduced by Buchholz Nursery. About 15 trees of P. bungeana were planted in my field, and after a dozen years in business a lot of East-coast buyers had discovered my nursery, and they were anxious to buy my specimens. I stridently offered them for sale at $1,000 each and would not negotiate for less. I admitted that they were not worth that price at the time, but soon enough they would be, and where else will you find them? That winter we suffered a devastating ice storm and I discovered just how brittle the P. bungeana branches could be. I cleaned them up as best I could, and when they had recovered a few years later I sold them for far less than $1,000, my smugness having been soundly tempered.

Picea pungens 'Bakeri'

Picea pungens 'Prostrata'

Besides my fun species plants, I propagated blue spruce cultivars by the thousands, and these starts were my bread-and-butter which allowed me to make mortgage payments, increase the nursery size and to feed my family. Nine cultivars of Picea pungens were offered: 'Bakeri', 'Fat Albert', 'Foxtail', 'Globosa', 'Hoopsi'[sic], 'Kosteri', 'Montgomery', 'Pendula' and 'Prostrata'. We still graft blue spruce, but none of the nine above. They became a glut on the market as other nurseries joined in the propagation frenzy, and besides, the pungens species is not a doer in many hot, humid portions of the USA. As a consequence, none of the nine are even in the collection anymore.

Of all of the one-year conifer graft prices the range was $2.50-$3.50. I cut every scion and grafted every tree myself so I couldn't blame anyone else if the graft didn't take. The prices were set at whatever I felt I could get away with back then, and since all orders were custom-produced my only fear was too many no-takes and a disappointed customer. As I said before we still sell liners, but ending the custom part is a welcome relief. After 40 years, my prices have tripled overall while my costs have more than quadrupled; try to figure out that math!

Genista pilosa

My cheapest cutting was $0.15 for Genista pilosa and I still have a huge mat of it in the original Display Garden. I eventually discontinued because a dwarf hemlock went for $0.30, and nursery space and time dictated that I produce something more valuable. Besides, the Genista has a limited “shelf-life” that does not extend past a one-gallon pot. Think of it like a tomato plant at the garden center. They are usually sold in a 4” pot or at most a one-gallon pot. You never see a ten-year-old tomato in a 20” cedar box like you do with our maples that go for about $100 at that age. My policy of trying to stick with plants that are worth more and more as they age keeps me from burning crops if they don't sell, like my bankrupt neighbor did when confronted with over-supply in a weak “commodity” market. Well, he made more money than I did in the exuberant years, but his business model failed in trying times. Keep in mind that he was smarter than I – or at least he thought so...no, knew so! – but I'm still here and he is kaput.

Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum'

Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum'

The history of Buchholz Nursery would be far different without my fortuitous connection with the late J.D. Vertrees. His seminal publication of Japanese Maples in 1978 opened my eyes to a world of wonder, and I made a pilgrimage to his Maplewood Nursery in Roseburg, Oregon in 1980. I shut my mouth and respectfully listened to his opinions and advice. He was known to be crotchety with fools so I made a concerted effort to not be foolish. I also purchased my first six maple cultivars at his rather high mail-order price, and I made sure that one of them was his introduction of Acer palmatum 'Kamagata'. Another maple was Acer japonicum 'Aureum' which has since been correctly identified as Acer shirasawanum not a japonicum at all. Subsequent editions of Japanese Maples actually feature my photograph of my original tree, but photo credit is given to Peter Gregory...and in other instances photo credit is given to me when I was not at all responsible. I'm certain that the publisher, Timber Press of Portland, Oregon, has no desire to hear of their petty mistakes, and would probably assume that the “whoever that Buchholz is” is probably the one in error. In any case, I still consider that my greatest achievement in horticulture was that Mr. Vertrees had difficulty propagating Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum' and he actually purchased grafts from me to fill his orders. JDV left our world too soon, and I would give anything if he could come back to visit for a day and witness my promise “to keep the nomenclature correct,” which was the primary goal of his publication in the first place. Yes, I have been fortunate in my career.

Acer palmatum 'Bloodgood'

Acer palmatum 'Ukigumo'

In 1984 I listed 49 cultivars of Acer palmatum in addition to the few other maple species that I offered. Some were sold for $2.50 apiece, such as 'Bloodgood', 'Oshio beni', 'Crimson Queen' and the like, those cultivars that could possibly be purchased elsewhere...all the way up to $5.75 for 'Aka shigitatsu sawa', 'Ruby Lace' and 'Ukigumo' for those and other cultivars that could not be so easily acquired. Again, I performed custom-propagation, so if potential customers felt that $5.75 was too much for a maple graft, they were under no compulsion to order. The market decided if my prices were valid or not, while my main concern was that whatever they were charged – from $2.50 to $5.75 – they got “value” for a sturdy, well-grown tree. Even to this day I constantly monitor the plants that we prepare for shipment, and I describe myself as my customers' advocate because...well, I can't fully trust my own employees to do the job.

Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea'

Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea'

I don't have record of where I first acquired Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea' but in 1984 I was offering cuttings of such at $0.20 each. The selection could withstand full sun in Oregon's 100F summers, fairly well anyway. We sold a thousand or so to a number of wholesale growers, an amount we could easily provide. Then suddenly the M. Nursery company of California wished to purchase 5,000 cuttings and we promised to “do” what we could, and I think we provided 2,300. The following year we got our number up to 3,200, and held that even for the third year. By the fourth year there was no order, and no response to my queries about future production; for you see, they were then doing their own cuttings from our initial supply. A few years later they wanted to order two of this and three of that – literally – to “see how they would do” before they committed to more. I declined and made an important observation: that even giant, well-known companies could be comprised of little, and at best mediocre people.

Ulmus glabra 'Camperdownii'

Ulmus glabra 'Camperdownii'

Ulmus glabra 'Camperdownii' is listed in our first catalog and oddly we were one of the few who offered rooted cuttings when typically it is top-grafted. When grafted the union is gnarly and unsightly during the winter months, so I think one should graft low and train a branch upward to achieve the umbrella shape. We rooted the 'Camperdownii' for a few years to bypass the whole process of obtaining rootstocks to graft, and our percent to strike root was between 30-50%, not great but at least we had trees to grow on. The crops were never consistent, with some of the propagules hesitant to put on much growth, while others zoomed skyward. A rooted cutting was priced at $0.45, higher than most, otherwise our efforts would be unprofitable. I tired of the whole business eventually so I could focus on what was truly making a profit, but at least you know that rooting can be done.

Cotoneaster microphyllus 'Cooperi'

We used to top-graft dwarf Cotoneaster using C. bullatus as the standard. My favorite head was C. microphyllus 'Cooperi', a slow, creeping evergreen cultivar with dark green leaves and small white flowers that develop into tiny red fruits. It was a cute package but unfortunately 'Cooperi' is barely hardy at my nursery. Another top was a dwarf form of C. apiculatus, 'Tom Thumb', and though it made a neat head it was always sparse to produce fruit. Though the C. bullatus rootstock grew into a straight stem, often the weight of the head would cause the standard to lean, so every one that we ever grew and sold was accompanied with a support stake. I sold some to a nursery with three brothers about my age. They enlisted their father to pick up the order, an old duffer who was into general farming but wasn't too familiar with horticulture. He had a disapproving look on his face because he thought he would be picking up maple and conifer grafts. Finally he quipped, “Why did they order this brush?” I replied, “What, don't you want it?” Father B. chuckled, 'No no no – if they ordered it, put it on.” I gave up on the Cotoneaster long ago, mainly because the rootstock was not hardy for most of my customers, so maybe a younger nurseryman would like to resume propagating the brush.

So, what's with the catalog cover of the old man walking down the path with the young kid? The drawing was by my friend, the artist Elizabeth Bishop. The child was my first born, Sonya, and the old guy was a hybrid between Mrs. Bishop's old husband, and the man that I would eventually become. Note that we are pausing next to my favorite conifer, a Tsuga mertensiana. I'm somewhat stooped now too, but I don't sport a beard and I've kept a little more hair on my dome. I became a nurseryman by default, because it seemed to be the only thing I was able to do.