Introduction to Subarctic Permaculture (1)

Those of you who know me surely have no doubt that I love digging in the soil. I’ve worked on farms around the world, from Catalan Gosol to Chilean Curanipe and Paraguayan Loma Plata. Even more than working with plants, I enjoy the theoretical basis of permaculture, which I tried to teach on Steemit a few years ago. All my publications focused on Mediterranean or subtropical climates, where you throw a seed into the soil, pour some water, and everything grows rapidly, as if taken straight out of the Jumanji movie. But what if we study subarctic climates together? Is it even possible to have a garden in a climate too cold for apples? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot recently. But if the Vikings didn’t starve to death, I should be okay too. Until spring arrives and the first experiments can begin, let’s study some basic knowledge about subarctic permaculture together.

The subpolar climate is harsh, but it’s not Antarctica. With a bit of creativity, I believe we can outsmart the weather and get some extra harvest. Don’t expect bananas or coconuts, but we should be able to grow enough food to survive.

I think we’ll face three major challenges that will make our work more difficult:
a) cold weather,
b) lack of sunlight, and
c) poor soil.

Let’s start with the weather. When winters are long and cold, summers are short and chilly, and even in June or September temperatures can drop below zero degrees Celsius at night, we need to protect our plants. This can be done using south-facing slopes, windbreaks, or greenhouses. Centuries ago, Icelanders built greenhouses around hot springs and geysers to warm the air and soil, allowing them to grow vegetables. In Norway, I don’t have any volcanoes, but building greenhouses, polytunnels, or using straw to protect my plants shouldn’t be a problem.

Now, let’s talk about snow. There’s so much of it that before starting to write this post, I was wondering why I could see five hills from my window when I was sure there were only four. The fifth turned out to be my neighbor’s house, buried under snow while they were on vacation.
What may seem like a curse can also be a blessing. Snow is essentially water, so we have a large reserve of this vital farming resource. It can be stored or released gradually as it melts. Additionally, snow helps eliminate pests and diseases that we’d otherwise have to deal with. In such a harsh climate, pests and diseases are much less common than, say, in Argentina or Poland. If I can barely stand these temperatures, how could aphids survive?

Adapting our garden to low temperatures and a short growing season (generally 2 to 5 months in subarctic climates, 3-4 months in Bykle, where I live) is challenging but not impossible. In the following lessons, we’ll analyze what plants we can successfully grow here.

Okay, the second point is the lack of sunlight—or excessive sunlight in the summer (though it’s not as harmful to plants as darkness). The subarctic climate is very distinctive in this regard. Further north, you can experience polar day and night, where the sun doesn’t rise at all for weeks or even months. Here in my location, that extreme isn’t an issue, though I have to keep in mind that the shortest days of the year last just under 5 hours, while the longest days have sunsets after midnight and last up to 19 hours.

Very short days might only be a problem if we consider indoor gardens or heated greenhouses. Plants wouldn’t survive outside, but with heating and special solar lamps, we can try to grow something even in January.

Finally, the soil. The biggest issue here is permafrost. Since summers are short and chilly, only the very top layer of soil is usable. Beneath that, the soil is frozen. Plants with deep root systems may struggle to penetrate it.

Snow covering the ground for most of the year also reduces the organic matter in the soil, and permafrost negatively impacts drainage.

So, where to start? First, I would observe local communities to learn directly from them how to grow food here. I haven’t had the chance to see what summer looks like in Bykle, as I arrived here this January. However, I know that some farmers in the area grow potatoes, carrots, and onions. Some also keep cows and chickens. That’s a good start—I plan to get to know them better, befriend them, and learn from them when the time comes.

Secondly, I need to observe not just people at work, but also the environment. I’m in the mountains, so there’s a good chance I’ll find more farmer-friendly microclimates in various valleys—places that are a bit warmer or more exposed to sunlight.

I’ll need to study how to store water and heat, adapt the types of vegetables to this harsh climate, learn how to compost in sub-zero temperatures, and build healthy soil (perhaps focusing on raised beds? That would certainly help avoid permafrost). As always in a new environment, I’ll start slowly, experimenting, failing a thousand times, and succeeding right after. I hope you’ll join me on this journey, watching me, laughing and crying with me, brainstorming new solutions, experimenting, talking, and, ultimately, why not, enjoying the results. Come visit, and we can eat those carrots together.

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