Dawn on Highway 301 South
I'm writing to you at 6 a.m. from Highway 301, headed north, sitting in the passenger seat of a big, dark truck pulling a trailer loaded with 8,000 pounds of plants. It sounds exciting, and lots of folk say they want to tag along, but the reality isn't so glamorous. Though I do have a lovely cup of coffee — from a truck stop at Yahoo Junction.
The coffee's helping me stay alert as we start another long day. We're wrapping up an intense plant-buying expedition of about a thousand miles. Today, we have two more scheduled stops. The first will be after we find a small-town diner for breakfast. Then, we'll pull through the ag inspection station and truck it on into South Carolina.
Why I Started These Plant Collecting Trips
I started doing these truck trips 30 years ago. I started for two good reasons.
First, as a botanical garden curator, I realized that the price of plant shipping would often exceed the price of a trip. My job wasn't just about maintaining collections – it was about building them thoughtfully, finding the exact right specimens and building a team of gardeners who understood the plant world. Believe it or not, many public gardens refuse to pay for staff travel. So, I turned plant shipping costs into a way to get our staff out into the world to see gardens and nurseries.
Second, this is the only way to get the best plants and deal; you have to be there. Modern landscapers call or email in plant orders. That means some salesperson is picking out your plants. I'd have to really know and love them to let that happen.
The Intense Little Caesar Years
My life-long friend and long-time coworker Melodie often wanted to go on these trips. We did plenty through all of Florida and all along the Gulf of Mexico - there are great wholesale nurseries around Mobile. But after a few times, I sat down in her office to plan a trip and she sighed. Melodie has a mighty expressive sigh. Our post sigh conversation went something like this:
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I just can't do it again."
"Why not?" I asked.
"You are like a dictator on those trips."
"I am not. Why are you being dramatic?" I said sincerely.
"Last time, you refused to let us go into Burger King for lunch. We had to drive through and eat, three of us packed together on that bench seat in that bouncy truck. Fries everywhere."
"I am just trying to make sure we make great use of our time. Who wants to sit in a fast food joint? Y'all should just eat carrots and ginger snaps like I do anyway."
Melodie finally came to the truth and said, "I was still nursing. I had to breast pump before I left and freeze it. Then I had to pump in the truck on that bouncy seat."
"I thought that all worked out just fine. We've known each other long enough not to worry about stuff like that. Besides, you're finished with all that now."
A long, long sigh that told me the conversation was over. "Just get me some good plants. You are bossy on those trips. You should know that Charlie and I started calling you L.C. — Little Caesar. You better not be bossy to him, or he may not go again either."
I thought hard about Melodie's words and all those sighs. I knew they called me LC but wasn't that because my name is Augustus? Wasn’t he a benevolent ruler? And besides, I always made sure we had great dinners and found fun late-night bars — since nurseries are closed at night. But I took her words to heart.
Lessons Learned & Blood Lilies
These days, thirty years later, only Charlie is willing to endure these hunting adventures with me. We've settled into a rhythm.
The plants we have today mostly go into a lovely, fun job on the coast of South Carolina. A few huge silver Bismarkia palms to his yard. But some, some cool native perennials that are tough to find, will be in our little nursery on the farm.
The sun came up as I wrote this, so I took a break. Later in the day, I remembered one of the most important things I learned from Melodie - folks like lunch. So we stopped at JB's Shrimp Shack near Brunswick for the best-fried oysters you've ever had. It took about half an hour — a time period I'd have considered wasted once. Now, a lunch in a dive, the best local seafood and hearing a story of Charlie's life growing up in a bridge construction family, a story I'd never heard before, is worth more than all the plants on the truck.
And speaking of those plants - if you're curious about what treasures we found, keep an eye on our website. We'll have some special offerings coming soon, including my favorite yellow butterfly vine and some brilliant blood lilies. Better yet, join us for one of our summer events or lunch-and-learn tours, where you can see these beauties in person and maybe hear a few more road trip tales.
Share this post