The Great Desert Tomato Contest - Dawson Gang (2025)

I know it is hot where you are. But is it so hot there that you can grow fried green tomatoes on the vine? My friends (all avid gardeners) and I (a gardening school dropout) decided to have a tomato growing contest over this summer. The prize would be “best farmer” bragging rights.

But this contest produced nothing to brag about. We hoped at least one of us would discover the secret of growing a juicy, red tomato in an environment where 30 plus consecutive days of temps above 100 are not uncommon. And let’s not forget that it is a dry heat that sucks the moisture out of everything including me! So far, no our results have been very disappointing.

At first we all had hope as little tomatoes sprouted from our vines just as they should in early spring. Then the intense sun rays began to cook our brave plants and even sunshades did not provide respite. I did not shade my plants instead deciding that they needed sunshine and would maybe adapt to the heat (wrong). Unbelievably I did get a few palm size tomatoes that were edible before the plant quit producing and went into survival mode.

I will keep watering my stalwart little tomato plant in hopes that the current monsoons (that is what they call rain here) and the slightly cooler temps (highs in the 90s now) will convince my tomato plant to try again. Lots of new blossoms appeared as temps cooled. Maybe by following a nonstop watering plan, I may yet get a decent tomato. That is how far my tomato standards have dropped. This is a lot more work than I expected.

I have learned to adapt to the dryer, hotter summer here by mimicking the locals. This means rising with the sun. It starts to peek in the windows about 4:30am (AZ does not recognize Daylight Savings Time). I try to be up by 5:15 and out the door for a walk in the desert by 6:15. When the walk is finished, I join friends in the pool for some laughs, exercise and cool down.

At mid-summer, it is best to be back in the air conditioning by 8:30. Sometimes I get a siesta, but no one ventures out again until about 6:30pm. It is not much cooler then, but the lower sun seems to lose a little baking power. But there are two pretty great upsides to the Arizona climate. First, my joints never ache in this dry climate and second my hair is never frizzy. Two things for which I am very grateful.

Over the Spring and Summer, I traveled enough to keep my hand in the game. In Florida, I helped Mom with some business there. I had a great time enjoying the late winter warmth, the green, green landscape and new friends I met there.

Michele asked me to plan an East Coast trip for the two of us. Except for New Jersey, she had never explored the East Coast states. Our first few days were a challenge as I caught a virus on the plane. As soon as I felt well again, Michele was sick. Our trip involved quite a bit of driving and we struggled to maintain our schedule while simultaneously trying to recover. At one point, the tips of my fingers went numb and turned bright yellow as I dashed shivering uncontrollably from the car to our room on the parkway. I thought I might be dying of a rare finger disease, but the internet said I just got too cold.

I did not plan garment wise for the chilly temps, fog and rain on the Blue Ridge Parkway. That part of the trip was a bit of a washout. We missed all the scenic views which were obscured by clouds, mist and our extreme reluctance to leave the warm, dry interior of our rental car.