Tom Ross' column appears Tuesdays and Saturdays in Steamboat Today. Contact him at 871-4205 or e-mail tross@steamboatpilot.com.

After two decades of half-hearted attempts, I have succeeded in growing a watermelon. Make that two watermelons. But it isn't because I ever planted watermelon seeds. At least not intentionally.

I guess I had better explain.

Since long before it became en vogue to aspire to being green, I have religiously composted my lawn and garden clippings along with vegetable kitchen scraps. I've gone so far as saving frozen coffee grounds in the garage through the winter. I know that's more than a little crazy. But you have to understand that since 1988 I've lived on a great view lot with not-so-great clay soil.

Consequently, I've been on a mission to amend my soil, if not my soul.

Every spring, I've worked compost into my mediocre flowerbeds in an effort to produce more blossoms. And in many years, I've been rewarded with lush pumpkin and squash vines that have produced little yellow flowers, but no fruit. The vegetable plants spring out of the compost spontaneously, survivors of the previous autumn's fall feasts and jack-o-lanterns. I'm never sure what I'm gonna get.

Pumpkin vines are very sensitive to cold, and their leaves turn black the first time overnight temperatures dip below 40. Consequently, my vines have no more than two weeks to live this season.

Growing up in Wisconsin, it was a different matter. We frequently grew our own watermelons and cantaloupes. Some years we went as far as scraping the fruit out of watermelons and cutting two-inch squares out of the rinds to can into watermelon pickles (Don't bother to look for watermelon pickles at your supermarket, you won't find them).

Once again this year I have a dramatic pumpkin vine that is about 4 feet long and attracts bees to pollinate its yellow blossoms. There are grasshoppers swarming in the flowerbed nearby, but they are loath to munch on the broad leaves. Still, with Sept. 1 a week away, there's absolutely no chance I'll harvest pumpkins again this year.

Right next to my pumpkin patch is another vine that grows closer to the ground with variegated leaves that are being attacked by the hoppers. And hidden beneath those raggedy leaves are two perfect green spheres.

They have no business in my garden. Even the fastest maturing varieties of watermelons need 85 days of heat and frequent moisture. Colorado State University's Extension Service reports the average number of frost-free days in Steamboat each summer is 46.

Watermelons have no business in the 'Boat.

But against all odds, I intend to harvest watermelons this year - that is unless those are squash vines out back. They may not be ripe when I pluck them, but they stand a decent chance of being as big as softballs, and that represents a small miracle for someone like me who grew up in the milder climate of the flat lands.

I wonder if my mother and father will send me their recipe for watermelon pickles.

In case your folks don't have a recipe for watermelon rind pickles, or you just don't believe me, you can find one here: www.associatedcontent.com/article/787163/how_to_make_watermelon_pickles.html?cat=22

I really hope those are melons growing in my yard this summer.

Hey Ma, just in case, send that recipe for summer squash while you're at it. A mountain man wants to be prepared for anything.