Fencing In or Fencing Out
It’s easy to think of fencing as containment, or in some cases, as defense. But for us the construction of our first fences here at Willow Greens Farm is less about limitation and more about liberation.
It was while walking the dogs during the last year of our urban misadventure, that the need for a hard u-turn became apparent. Looking down at our ancient yellow Lab, avoiding stepping in some other dog’s waste, keeping our dogs away from the discarded chicken bones and hypodermic needles, I decided this would definitely not be my last Labrador, and that the city, with its angry dogs and angrier people was no place to raise a dog. You could call it a paradox. The wheels were set in motion and it brought us here.
Our first walks down the gravel road with Woody and Alys were a revelation (“Can we really take our masks off?”), but what we really wanted was a safe space to let them run amok. And like any large project, there were wheels within wheels. Getting to grips with some sort of plan for the acreage led us to a landscape architect, and then a plan, and then priorities, and then sequencing, and then the hard reality of supply chain issues. After one full year we were finally ready to install the fences.
Phase One encloses approximately one-half acre around the barn and greenhouse including the raised beds, a small orchard, and a staging area for future projects. As two sides abut what may be a future pasture, these will feature high-tensile sheep and goat mesh. The remaining sides will use a black coated light-duty roll that is virtually invisible. Each requires its own technique.
Fence building is right in my wheelhouse—it definitely requires a new skill set, but it is not beyond the average person who works with their hands, it gives you the opportunity to buy lots of new kit, and it allows you to save a significant amount of money. It doesn’t hurt that I already own a tractor with a 12” auger attachment.
The Prep
Digging the 3-foot deep holes for each post was the first step, and given the different soil and terrain it brought into play all three types of diggers: the tractor auger, the electric 8” hand auger (a godsend!), and the old fashioned clamshell tool. Using a taut cord to ensure a straight line, and keeping everything plumb by eye, it was slow but rewarding work. I backfilled with a mix of soil and 21-A gravel for stability.
The Light Duty Fence
Hanging the light duty fence required a bit of winching and wiggling as it simply hangs on each post, but it went together rather quickly. Done again, I might embed these corners in concrete.
The High Tensile Fence
The high tensile fence is more fun. Relying on a sturdy H-Brace on each end, you are basically constructing a long trampoline. Once you have wrestled it into place you use a pair of specially designed pullers to put a couple hundred pounds of torque on the unit. The intervening posts take very little pressure and maintain a uniform height. My personal guru in this process is Tim Thompson, an Australian shepherd and teacher.
After saving so much money by doing the job myself I splashed out on fancy new wire filled gates that I knew would be Alys-proof. Anticipating that the run along the gravel road will be where the she-devil might test the integrity of my work, I installed a recycled oak fence rail to discourage any limbo-type escapes. Our Beta testing with the dog herself has proven that (knock on wood), Alys has no interest in challenging the fence. She’s content to lie in the sun and ignore us while we garden. So far, so good.
Woody didn’t make it to see the new space. He ran out of road at 14—a good long innings for a Lab—and we said goodbye a couple of months ago. But I know he would have approved and encouraged us to find a new mellow boy to make Willow Greens Farm his home.
Sorry to hear about Woody, he was so sweet.
First man I've ever known of who thought fence-building was fun when it didn't involve laying stone walls...kudos to you!