Hooping It Up With a Greenhouse Down on the Farm
Sun Island Farm’s hoophouse: similar to what mine will look like.
About a year ago, I applied for and received (after some time) a cost-share grant to build a high tunnel hoophouse, a greenhouse-like structure framed with steel tubular ribs and covered in a UV-resistant plastic. Its purpose: to extend the growing season in spring and fall, and in the case of some crops, through winter as well. A little more sun and a little more heat can do wonders for both soul and seedling here in the Maritime Northwest. I may just put in a wading pool, spread sand, add a chaise lounge and palm tree, and rent the space by the hour.
As I’ve never grown anything in a covered space before, I’m plowing through some unknown territory here, but I can assure you that I’m up for the challenge.
Interior view of Sun Island’s newly built hoophouse, I’m guessing the warmest spot of Vashon Island.
Let me introduce you to the concept. Hoophouses, or high tunnels as they are also known, trap heat much like a car windows do on a sunny day. The plastic sheeting inhibits air circulation and flow, trapping energy in the form of heat within its walls. Plants are usually planted directly in the ground, and pampered to grow up big and strong without the threat of pests and inclement weather. Because the hoophouse can get too hot, sides are designed to roll up, and let fresh air in and over-heated air out. Shown from left to right: the roll-up wall lowered and secured, the manual mechanism to roll a 72-foot wall of plastic sheeting up and down, and the wall rolled up about six inches above the base board.
The end walls sport a sliding barn-style rigid plastic door to allow tillers, tractors, sun and farmers access to the space. The soil in this hoophouse has yet to be cultivated and prepared for planting.
Sun Island Farmers, Joe and Celina, were wonderfully generous in sharing their hoophouse expertise and letting me drop by repeatedly to study their structures and building techniques. Though often referred to as a hoophouse kit, I’ve come to believe the term kit is aspirational at best; hoophouses are as custom and idiosyncratic as the farmers who build them and the land where they are placed. No two are exactly alike.
Big load: Tom pushes his luck, while Boz (yet again) tempts the scientific laws of balance.
Naively, I thought building this structure would be a piece of cake. My willing spirit was sucker-punched by my aching body the first day–a day which simply required moving all of the steel pipes, boxes and parts up to the staging area.
Of the 26 anchor posts to be pounded down to a depth of 30 inches, 24 found large granite rocks on their way, impeding my sledge-hammer wielding mastery, progress, and hope to have fully functional arms at the end of the day. Frequent breaks and whining kept me going.
Four days later, and the super structure is up with base boards and roll-up supports bolted into place.
What’s the next step? I need to build end walls and doors, add channel lock to keep the sheeting in place and oh, yeah cover it with plastic. That’s all. Stay tuned for the next episode of When a Greenhorn Builds a Greenhouse.
Special thanks to Bernie, Karen, Rick, Tamara, Joe, Celina and Jon for your help. Without it, I’d probably be in traction, and my hoop house would look like this.