From: Bill Thacker <cbema!wbt>
Subject:   Tobacco Roots III - The Growing Menace
 
After the first few critical weeks, the tobacco plants become
very hardy.  They are, by nature, large and bushy, so they tend to
shade out any weeds which would compete; and there are not many
predators that care to eat any but the youngest plants.

One of those that do exist, though, is the tobacco worm
(eatimus cavendish); a large (1/2"x2") green caterpillar.  These are not a
major threat, as they don't eat much, but they are worth controlling for
Seed Leaf growers because they cut holes in the leaves, rendering them
unusable for cigar wrapping.  Spray insecticides are sufficient, and only
one application, after the initial planting, is needed.

Another threat, particularly later in the season, is hail;  a heavy
hailstorm can ruin the leaves, greatly reducing the crop's worth.

The next thing that needs attention comes near the end of the growing
season (about 4 months), as the plants mature.  To reproduce, the plants
(which by now are large bushes; about 4 feet tall and 3 feet across) send
up tall spikes, which will produce pink flowers.

The reproductive cycle, though, saps the plant's energy away from the
leaves, much as intact genitals will sap a bull's strength away from
meat development.  Therefore,  just as the rancher "steers" his bull
calves,  the grower will walk the fields, snapping off (sorry for the
imagery 8-) the spikes from all but a half-dozen (in my grandpa's case) 
plants, which will be allowed to produce the next year's seed.  

The plant, though, doesn't give up so easily.  Deprived of its family
jewels, it will produce small, stickly (high tar content, I suppose) 
buds near the severed stalk.  These "suckers" serve no useful purpose, but
divert energy, so they, too must be snapped off.  Typically, the flowering
and suckering operations will take place at three to five day intervals over
about 2-3 weeks; some plants will flower later than others.

We're now into August, and the plants are mature.   When the weather is
right (that is, dry and hot), and early in the morning, the plants are cut.
This is usually done by hand at Grandpa's; you walk along the row, bending
the plants over with the left hand to expose the base of the stalk (by now,
about an inch in diameter and very woody; about like ginger root, for those
Chinese cooks out there), while the right hand swings a cutting tool,
either a machete or an axe-like cutter.   The plants are left to lie on
their sides for several hours, until early afternoon; and only a few acres
are cut each day (that is, you only cut what you can take in).

The hot, dry weather is important; as it lies, the tobacco wilts from the
heat.  This greatly facilitates later handling, as "crisp" plants are far
more fragile.

Now comes the *really* labor-intensive part 8-)  A large field crew, fueled
by a typically-large farm dinner, goes out to the field.  A wagon is driven
alongside of the newly-cut tobacco, bearing a supply of "laths", strips of
wood (hickory is preferred, but oak is common) about 1/4"x1"x48" long on
the front, plus a couple of water jugs and a bucket of hard candy for the
workers.  About 4 spudders will walk, each covering two rows of tobacco;
they carry a hollow-backed steel spearpoint, or spud, which is placed on one end
of the lath, while the other is stuck against the ground.   The spudder
picks up a tobacco plant with one hand, and sits it on the spud point
(a task requiring a bit of deftness; the plants are a bit heavy to handly
one-handed, so you have to *swing* the stalk upward in an arc so that it
lands on the spud) about 4-6" below the cut end of the stalk.  Then, the
other hand is brought up to drive the plant onto the spud, and thus, 
the lath.  Plants are spudded 6-10 inches apart, depending on size.  When
the lath is full, the spudder hands it back to his/her "carrier", who
hands the spudder an empty lath, and takes the full one to the wagon, 
handing it up to the "stacker", who stacks it flat.  A stack of tobacco
one lath deep is called a "rick", and 3 ricks fill a wagon.

The laden wagon is then swapped for an empty one, and taken to to
tobacco shed, a tall barn with beam rafters spaced about 40" apart, just
right for suspending the laths.  In the shed, one worker unloads the wagon,
handing the full laths to another man standing in the rafters.  Depending
on the height of the barn, and horizontal distance from the wagon, the
lath may be passed several times before it is "hung".   The barn is hot and
dusty, which, along with the extra hazard or working in the rafters, earns
the shed crew bonus pay.  (I've never seen anyone fall from the beams,
though).  They then load fresh laths onto the wagon and return it to the
field crew.

A full crew for a typical day's work at Grandpa's would then be a field
tractor driver, a stacker, 4 spudders, 4 carriers, and a half-dozen
hangers, one of whom also drives a tractor; about 16 people all told.
It took about 6-8 such days over a two-week period to bring in all of
Grandpa's tobacco, weather permitting.

As has been mentioned, the tobacco shed has slats in the sideboards which
can be opened to vary air flow.  It will hang for several months until
it has cured.  What started as a succulent, green plant ends as a dried,
shriveled corpse; the leaves have the leather-brown look and paper-thin,
tough texture familiar to cigar smokers.

We're almost done now, but I'll taunt you with the exciting conclusion.
Stay tuned to this digest next week, same tobac-time, same tobac-channel.


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Bill Thacker			att!cbema!wbt	     ??????????????????


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