Chapter 11

Special Culturing

Roses in Containers

If you have no garden for planting rosebushes in the earth, but do have patio, deck, or even exterior stairway space available, you can still have roses.  In fact, roses in containers require care only incidentally different from those planted in the ground.  The rewards can be great, even greater, as when you are asked, "How did you ever do it in just a planter?"

Which roses will grow in containers?  Virtually all of them, but rosebushes that tend to be on the small side of average will do best.  Miniatures are a snap, of course, but your rose world certainly needn't be restricted to minis.  Floribundas do beautifully, but so will the more diminutive hybrid teas, even grandifloras.  Select carefully, choosing from those varieties that don't get to be huge.  If you want clusters of pink blooms, think about Cherish rather than Queen Elizabeth, which will be top-heavy after the first year's growth.  If you yearn for red one-to-a-stem blooms, opt for Mister Lincoln instead of Precious Platinum.  If you just can't bear not having some vigorous grower that has won your heart, go ahead and plant it.  Your love for the variety will probably motivate you to give it the extra care it will need to perform well in its restricted environment.

Love didn't motivate me to try one container experiment, but I think you should know about it anyway.  You may recall that I had rather disparaging remarks to make about Folklore, one of the roses I contend is overrated. For some reason I once had a spare bush of it and an extra container as well.  At the same moment I realized that the planter was too small for a rosebush, I thought:  Why not try a Folklore experiment?  Since Folklore planted in the garden gets to be unwieldy in size, it seemed that purposefully constricting its root development in an undersize container might keep it within bounds.  It worked.  At summer's end, my contained Folklore looked like a normal hybrid tea.  Unfortunately, I can't report on second-year developments, for I found another use for the container more to my liking.

If you make your own containers, be sure to use one of the decay-resistant woods (cedar, cypress, or redwood).  Don't skimp on size.  Most container experts stipulate a minimum fourteen-inch width and depth.  A few extra inches will prove worth the expense, especially after a year or more of growth, when extra root space is needed for the continuing development of the bushes.

Before you put the first trowelful of soil into a container, consider what the total weight is likely to be when you've finished planting.  Containers large enough to accommodate roses are very heavy when filled with soil, even heavier when wet.  Think carefully about where you're going to place it, choosing a spot you're certain will please you for a long time. If you're one of those people who likes frequent rearranging, you might consider attaching casters to the container bottom before planting.  Then you can even move it around during the day, especially if you must do so to keep the bush in the sunlight.  Don't laugh.  I know someone who does just that.  A formidable exhibitor in San Francisco has a weird backyard sun pattern, created by strangely shaped buildings to the east and west.  She never gets sunlight for more than three hours on either side of her garden.  All her roses (she admits to about fifty) are in containers with commercial casters equipped with stop-and-go locking foot pedals.  You guessed it; she moves her rosebushes twice daily.  You certainly can't quibble with her results.  Neither can judges.

Once you are ready to plant, use decent soil.  If you don't have a yard to plant in, it's unlikely you'll have soil available.  Buy some.  Use one of the packaged varieties--they really are a loose, friable growing medium.

It's hard to build a cone of soil within a planter, but the goal when planting in a planter is the same as that stated in Chapter 3 for planting in the earth--to position a rosebush and its roots where they will grow comfortably.

Put shards from clay pots or place rocks over the planter's drainage holes, then fill the bottom of the container with soil to a point where the bush can be added.  You want the bud union to end up one inch above the soil level within the container and two inches from its lip.

I always thought that one of the benefits of container roses was that they could be wintered over indoors when outside temperatures dipped to dangerous lows.  That apparently is not always the case.  Capable rosarians who live in cruel winter climates tell me that basement and garage storage doesn't work particularly well and that container roses should be dug up yearly and planted outdoors in three-foot-deep trenches until spring signals their rejuvenation.  Sounds torturous to me; not so much for the bushes as for the poor rosarians.  But I know that if I suddenly had to deal with a regularly dipping thermometer, I too would develop a fetish for trenches.  If you live where it's brutally cold and have no place for trenches, I suppose you'll just have to take containers in and out of doors until hard freezes are over.

Otherwise, care for container roses is the same as that given bushes planted in the garden.  Container roses will need watering more often than their grounded siblings because containers drain rapidly and moisture evaporates from all sides.  Feeding and pruning needs are identical to those for garden-grown bushes.

There is one additional periodic need.  Bushes grown in containers for several years become "root bound," with root systems larger than their planters can allow.  When that happens, growth becomes stunted.  To remedy the situation, remove the bush while it's dormant and trim its roots back by half.  Old, tough roots should come out entirely.  Use the same techniques for replanting the bush that you used to plant it originally.

There's one more approach to growing roses in containers that I like.  So might you if there's an out-of-the-way spot where no one has to see something out of bloom.  I plant bushes in five-gallon sturdy plastic containers, which retain moisture well and don't allow roots to grow into their sides.  Roots don't adhere to plastic as they do to wood, and bushes in plastic containers last longer than those in wooden ones.  When a plant comes into bloom and is worth looking at, I move its container into a cachepot--a pretty temporary holding pot.  When the show is over, I take the container out, return it to its sequestered growing area, and look around for something in bloom to take its place in the cachepot.