In 2005, the Perennial Plant Association named the hellebore Perennial of the Year.
Gardeners frequently ask about the origins of the unusual and rare plants they find each year here at Plainview Farm.
“Where on earth do these come from???”
This phenomenon is fairly universal, as gardeners seem to be a rather curious lot. Hellebore is one of those unusual plants.
On a rugged West Virginia mountain during coldest February, we had the immense pleasure of seeing one of the most extraordinary nurseries in our experience, growing rare and unusual perennials that excited our collector’s spirit. This is the story of that singular journey that may provide at least a partial answer .
Sunshine Farm is located in the tiny, remote hamlet of Renick, West Virginia, some distance off I-64 and a scant few miles from a world-renowned resort, “The Greenbrier” in White Sulphur Springs . The admixture of Five Star accommodations and rural Appalachia has always been an intriguing mingle and to add Sunshine Farm blend challenges belief, as you will soon learn.
Read on.
The detailed directions which owner Barry Glick faxed to us were unintentionally intimidating, but we soldiered on, after a quick stop at the Town Hall/Police Department. Directions verified.
To reach the farm, we drove up two mountains using primitive dirt roads. The trip took 45 minutes, after leaving the relative flat land of Renick! Guard rails have yet to be installed on the Leonard Cordova Road. (I wondered who he was to deserve this honor). Nonetheless, it had become a flamboyant, spring-like day (indeed, the temperature at the top of the mountain was in the 50’s) and we were excited by the splendid weather. When finally we arrived at Glick’s mountaintop aerie at 3000’, the weather was forgotten as we were absorbed by the absolute horticultural excellence to be found there. For this was the true splendor promised from the beginning of our journey.
Who, you may ask, is Barry Glick? 20 years ago, he was a city boy from Philly (who will never be able to fake his origins! Barry talks fast.) who decided to bring his life to the top of this remote West Virginia mountain ....and to continue his pursuit of horticultural knowledge on the land he christened “Sunshine”. Now, Barry has greenhouses and if you are a mountain goat, accessible fields (terraces) that he uses to grow such plants as hellebores, spiranthes, primula, oenothera, pachysandra, asarums, etc. Additionally, countless trays of countless pots of mysterious plant material are carefully laid on the ground - on any scarce patch of flat earth - as they await spring. Horses and dogs, 4 wheelers and tractors, formal perennial gardens and an orchard and an impossible contemporary house all share this slanted space. This on top of a obscure, seemingly uninhabited West Virginia mountain? We were quite speechless.
As soon as we arrived, he walked - leaned? - us through his growing area alongside the mountain. It was a rapid pace, although a probing horticultural question was an effective means of slowing things down. Barry is always willing to answer or to question the experience of another grower.
Some of the adolescent hellebores that he created were just beginning to bloom in the gardens and in the greenhouses, where they were in full fanfare, we saw opulent colors never before displayed by this plant. Yellows, pinks, lavenders, whites and tone-on-tone beauties surrounded us as we stumbled through - for who was watching where they walked? We saw a scientist at work as hand-pollinating was the means of creation and his written records of complex lineage were evident. Thousands of tiny seedlings and thousands of tiny, soil-filled pots with no apparent activity quietly awaited the touch of the watercolor brush. The brush is the scientists’ means of pollination - careful and controlled - that creates the novel, the unusual, the stunning. For this is the destiny of plants growing at “Sunshine Farm” - they will be bred with others of their species or even of a different species. It is this type of breeding program that gives gardeners new plants every season. This, then, is the art, the science, of the hybridizer.
Being in the vanguard of horticultural research when you live and grow on top of an isolated, remote mountain cannot be the easiest path to follow. For Barry, who is accompanied in his quest by his wife and two children, the fax and Internet have been his vestibule to the rest of the world - especially the international horticulture community. Constantly followed by the cell phone tucked casually in his back pocket (when guests arrive, another is delegated to field the calls), Barry is a 21st century citizen in a land that, within living memory, just obtained electricity. The people of the mountains in West Virginia and Kentucky live life at a different cadence than does the frenetic Northeast. Barry, to combat the isolation that is equally his blessing and curse, uses all manner of contemporary technology. On the Internet, he calls himself the Cyberplantsman (http://www.sunfarm.com) and publishes an electronic journal concerning rare plants.
E-mail is his life’s blood and judging from the conditions on the Leonard Cordova Road, a significantly more reliable option than “snail” mail. Disdaining time zones (and washed out roads), e-mail allows instantaneous communication internationally. For when snow covers that road, it must mean delays in delivery of all services - even the mail. He claims that UPS and Fedex make regular deliveries. We saw no trucks during our visit.
Through his extensive friendships in the international world of plant breeding, he is sent seeds and plant divisions from all continents. He, in turn, ships plants all over the world. As a lecturer and teacher, he has traveled extensively and while away from his mountain, has taken the opportunity to personally search for plants. The adventure of his larking spirit forces him to try growing them all on this windy promontory, overlooking his magnificent valley. The plants that survive and thrive here are hardy and tough, making them adaptable to most northern zones in the United States.
As growers coping with the formidable conditions of zone 4 and 5, these are our kind of plants! We became acquainted with Barry through other “plant people” because of the unusual plants he grows and sells - last season, we had several of his treasures available at the nursery and customers were captivated. Barry even distributes an incredible bugleweed called ‘Carol’ ! And people buy it! We were fascinated by the possibilities, as well, and purposefully made our way to Barry’s mountain on our way to Kentucky to visit family. (For the uninitiated, this is how horticultural types spend vacations.) After reading his articles and listening to him on the phone as he churns with information, we knew we were compelled to visit this place. Others had alerted us to the experience in store, but words were insufficient to prepare us for the reality.
The boundless passion, indeed obsession, radiating from this aggressive, creative and energetic man, nearing middle age, but seeming much the younger, is stimulating and endlessly contagious. For people who love plants, who are intrigued by new plants and who are challenged by difficult growing conditions, a visit to “Sunshine Farms” is a grand experience. As a result of our journey, new plants will arrive in North Yarmouth to be distributed throughout Maine by the gardeners who grow here. Some will be natives of the Appalachians, others could be from Nepal or Burundi. Barry Glick connects with others like him in all those places.
We find new plants or rediscover old ones in the strangest ways sometimes — we both agree that, to date, this West Virginia mountain has the distinction of being the most exciting, least accessible and most challenging vacation site yet.
An experience not soon to be forgotten.