How Do You Grow Giant Pumpkins? | Big Question with Steve Connolly
In the world of giant-pumpkin growing, Steve Connolly is one of its stars. In 2000 he became the first New Englander to crack 1,000 pounds. At the 2010 Topsfield Fair he turned in a 1,674-pounder, the world’s third-largest pumpkin that year. We caught up with Connolly, a plastics engineer, at his backyard pumpkin patch in […]
In the world of giant-pumpkin growing, Steve Connolly is one of its stars. In 2000 he became the first New Englander to crack 1,000 pounds. At the 2010 Topsfield Fair he turned in a 1,674-pounder, the world’s third-largest pumpkin that year. We caught up with Connolly, a plastics engineer, at his backyard pumpkin patch in Sharon, Massachusetts.“It’s a symbiotic relationship. You become one with that plant. You know everything about it for those six months.” Photo Credit : Michael Piazza
I grew up on an old farm in Sudbury, Massachusetts, in the 1950s. The land could pretty much grow anything. I think it had a good 24 inches deep of pure loam. That’s what got me started—I’d put seeds in the ground and they’d just grow. Pumpkins were of course a part of the mix, but it was just a big tangle of vegetables without much assistance.”
“My path to pumpkins was a winding one. There were other hobbies over the years: motocross, golfing, running road races. But then one year I went to the Topsfield Fair. I don’t know what it was—I guess it just sort of sparked a reminder of things that I was missing. You know, I’d gone through life, gone to college, worked a career, and then all of a sudden it was: Wait a minute, I got a little extra time, maybe I’ll try this.”
“I started competing in the sport in 1996. I had a 623-pounder that I think finished eighth at Topsfield, and I thought, ‘Wow, maybe I can compete in this thing.’ I had some off years after that, and then in 2000 I grew the first pumpkin in New England to break 1,000 pounds (1,009 pounds). When the weight was read, the place went crazy. I had no idea. I didn’t even know the prize, and then they said, ‘Here’s your check.’ It was $10,000. I looked at my wife and said, ‘This is pretty cool.’ I was later told that a quarter-million people came and saw my pumpkin.”
“The work begins in April when I pollinate them indoors in pots. Then I move the plants to mini-greenhouses out in the garden. Once things start to warm up, that’s when the plants go crazy. It’s the same thing every year: For three weeks you water this little plant that’s been rooting underground. You don’t realize that the roots have gone bonkers and the plant is just waiting for the soil to get warm. At high growth it’s growing a foot a day. That’s every vine, growing a foot in all directions, every single day. The actual pumpkin can grow 50 pounds a day. You can see the difference in just half a day, between the morning and when you’re back out in the garden that evening.”
“It’s a symbiotic relationship. You become one with that plant. You know everything about it for those six months. I can tell you where every vine is. And you’re asking questions: What portion of it needs a little more water? What vine needs to be turned? How much vine stress do I have here? Where is this plant going to go? Did I do enough for the powdery mildew that’s going to hit in the fall? I’m spraying for bugs, protecting the plant from wind and rain. I know what the forecast is every day for those six months better than anybody.”
“The advantage a new grower has in 2014 over someone like me in 2000 is that we’ve come such a long way in advancing the genetics. And this thing isn’t done yet. [The official world record is now 2,032 pounds; an unofficial world record holder weighed 2,328 pounds.] We don’t know what nature will allow us to do. We have a hard time thinking more than 500 pounds in advance. But we’ve manipulated natural selection to no end. It’s uncontrolled natural selection. So we’ve created a monster, but we don’t know how big it will get.”
“It’s an emotional drain like you wouldn’t believe. The thing about it is, you have to think a lot, but then you have to let something else do its thing. It’s not like golf, where you’re hitting the ball. Or playing hockey or running, where you’re the physical mover. There’s no physical outlet in this sport. It’s all mental. That’s why when you go to the weigh-off and you look at the growers, you’ll see a lot of blank stares, growers just looking off. They’re exhausted; they’re mentally and physically drained. When you get to the fair, it’s just a tremendous relief. And at that point in the game, I’m done with it. I have no interest in the pumpkin at all. Everybody else is going bonkers because they’re seeing these big things, but as a grower, it’s hard to explain. It’s as though you put all this work in just so you can get relief at the end of the year.”