Chicken Tractors and Slug Slurpers
HAVING FOLLOWED US SO FAR ON OUR JOURNEY up the steep side of the poultry learning curve, perhaps you can imagine our mental wheels turning when we first encountered the magical phrase “chicken tractor.” Although I did later read Andy Lee and Patricia Foreman’s delightful book of the same name (see Appendix B), I don’t remember now where we first heard this concept mentioned. I just know that I wanted to learn more. The sad fact that I had not yet located a fully restored mint-condition John Deere Model B tractor for less than $150 may have been a factor, too.
So, I consulted my usual sources: magazines, library books, the Internet. I had no trouble finding lots of photos, descriptions, even actual plans for building a “chicken tractor.” I was thrilled, I tell you. Thrilled.
What exactly is a chicken tractor? Basically, it is a smallish coop on wheels, usually with an enclosed run extending from the front of the coop. Ideally, the width of the coop and run match the width of your garden beds, say three or four feet at most. The idea is that the birds descend from their elevated roost in the morning and spend their day happily foraging in the garden bed, confined and protected in the run. Each day, the coop can be moved along the bed, which is tilled, turned, cleared of slug eggs and weed seeds and, of course, fertilized.
Seeing as how we don’t have children to delegate our chores to, we both thought this a wonderful idea. However, we’ve concluded that, for the most part, chicken tractors aren’t especially practical in our situation; yet another thing we had to learn by trying it for ourselves. First of all, since there is space to allow our birds to free-range, we prefer to let them do that. Second, our flock size increased rapidly over the first couple of years (remember the slippery slope), and we were selling eggs before our first year raising chickens was out. My sense is that chicken tractors would be ideal for the smaller-scale poultry grower, for example those who live in urban or suburban areas. Certainly it’s a good idea if you have many potential predators around.
We have built and use several mobile coops fairly similar in design to chicken tractors. I like that the birds are in a coop off the ground at night, adding another layer of security against nocturnal predators. If a bird needs to be temporarily confined when it is injured or sick, one of the smaller coops is a handy place to isolate it for a few days. The first of this type that I built — fondly known as the Deuce Coop — is traditionally used as a transition coop for chicks that have been brooded indoors. It has removable adjustable roosts and a roof that is high enough to hang a Coleman lantern from if we think the little birds need some extra warmth at night.
Deep Bedding: Pros, Cons and Our Experience
We have tried using the popular deep-bedding system in most of our coops at one time or another, with different birds and different kinds of bedding material. Theoretically, the idea is that you start with a few inches of bedding on the floor of the coop. Then you add layers of bedding at regular intervals; ideally this is timed so that, by the time the cold weather sets in, there is a good thick layer of semi-composted bedding in the coop. As the mass of bedding increases, it begins to generate heat and composting begins, killing various kinds of parasites that inhabit coops, as well as providing supplemental heat. Proponents of this system claim that, done properly, the deep-bedding system allows you to make coop cleaning a once-a-year chore. What’s not to like about that?
Our experience has been that the deep-bedding system works better in larger coops than in smaller ones. In hindsight, this seems logical, since the system is dependent on a certain minimum mass of bedding in order to encourage actual composting to begin. However, before we tried it ourselves, not a single article I read on the subject mentioned anything about the size of the coop being a factor. Our largest coop, the turkey house, is six feet by six feet inside, and the largest chicken roost area is four feet by eight feet. We tried deep bedding in both of these coops, and it worked reasonably well. Still, we cleaned the coops out more than once a year, and eventually went back to the old system, which works well for us.
It is certainly possible that inadequate or poorly designed ventilation is a factor with the deep-bedding system. To me, even though we now have ten coops regularly housing poultry, it is not a major inconvenience to simply clean out the coops on a regular basis. If we can smell even a hint of ammonia in the coop, it means there is too much moisture for the bedding to absorb. The cleaning process gives us the opportunity to inspect the coops and roosts for mites or other potential problems that can occur in coops. It is not unusual to find eggs laid on the floor of the coops, which would be wasted (not to mention possibly attract rats or other pests) if the coops weren’t being inspected or cleaned regularly.
Honestly, most of our coops are small enough that it only takes ten or fifteen minutes to clean them out anyway. Some are easier to clean than others — I’ve been on a learning curve with coop design too — but none of them are so difficult that it discourages us from cleaning them out often. During the winter especially, when the short days mean the birds are spending long hours in their coops, it’s amazing how fast droppings can accumulate and start producing ammonia, which can lead quickly to eye and respiratory problems. Why take the chance on this when it is a problem so much easier to prevent than to solve?
You might be wondering what we do with all that bedding and manure we clean out of the coops. One way or another, it all gets composted. Bedding from the chicken and turkey coops usually gets dumped in a designated compost space in one of the gardens, normally on a bed that I’m not planning to grow anything in until the following season. We also put compost in an area that the birds have access to; they have a great time scratching through the composting bedding, competing for the worms and bugs and seeds, spreading it around and generally having a good time.
The bedding, being thus aerated and spread out, dries out quickly even in cool weather, so there is no noticeable odor after a day or two. Usually when we’re ready to plant something in one of these compost areas, the bedding and manure are well broken down and easy to incorporate into the soil. In fact, it seems to work well as a winter mulch, since no matter how we pile it up, it isn’t long before the chickens have spread it out over a large area. They also eat whatever seeds they find, including weed seeds, so over time, the garden beds become progressively more weed-free. It certainly saves me some time and effort too; raking heavy piles of bedding and manure is a tiring job.
Also, on the subject of the deep-bedding system, I would definitely not recommend trying this with ducks. Their poop is so incredibly wet that it quickly saturates bedding, which becomes quite heavy in the process. The resulting high moisture content of duck coops is not easily offset by even the most excellent ventilation. The best advice for maintaining duck coops is to allow plenty of floor space for the number of ducks that you have, use an absorbent type of bedding such as wood shavings and clean those coops out frequently. Once a week is good.
I mentioned before that David wanted ducks to help with slug control. I heard a great quote about slugs: “There is no such thing as a slug overpopulation. What you have is a duck underpopulation.” Ducks certainly are enthusiastic slug slurpers. I am, however, apt to cringe when I see them greedily snatch up a slug, tilt their heads back and let those slimy little things slide right down their throats. How they eat things like that and produce such delicious eggs is a complete mystery to me. But they clearly love them, so who am I to be squeamish? Besides, I love not having any slugs in my garden!
About a year ago, David and I had been discussing the possibility of increasing our laying duck flock (then only ten layers and two drakes), realizing that duck eggs were becoming more and more popular around here. So after we got a call from a local farmer who wanted to get rid of some organically raised laying ducks, we debated only briefly before calling him back and accepting his generous offer. Although he had said there were a number of drakes in the flock of about thirty-five, we figured we would be at least doubling the number of our laying ducks. Also, the thought of bypassing the five-month process of brooding and raising baby ducks before starting to collect eggs had an obvious appeal for us.
So we folded down the back seats in our Subaru wagon, lined the whole back area with a heavy tarp and a thick layer of straw and headed down the hill to catch us some ducks.
We were so thankful for the dry weather that December day, although it was cold and very windy there, because the ducks were in a yard that was all down to mud. They move quite quickly, and these smallish Khaki Campbell and Indian Runner ducks were good fliers as well. We moved the fence netting around to create a small corner, on the theory that we would drive a few ducks at a time into the corner, close it off with a section of fencing and grab them.
It worked reasonably well. One thing about ducks, they like to do everything as a group. And these particular ones were very nervous, understandable since we were obviously strangers to them. Ducks also truly hate to be handled, so we were pleasantly surprised at how calm they were once we had actually picked them up.
It took nearly an hour and a half to catch them all, but we got them one at a time and put them through a back-seat window into the car. And although it turned out that there were forty ducks in all, they seemed to have plenty of room back there.
When we finally got on the road for the half-hour drive back home, the ducks were understandably a little bit anxious, and they were all quacking at once, as they will do. All things considered, though, they were fairly calm during the drive. We knew that ducks like to be talked to (and even sung to), and we wanted them to get used to the sound of our voices, so we kept talking. At one point, David said, “Hey, anybody want to stop for ice cream?” A few ducks quacked. David tried again.
“How about tacos?” This suggestion also generated some unenthusiastic quacking. To my offer of fried chicken, there was no response at all. Finally, David called out, “Who wants some slugs?” Whereupon a loud chorus of excited quacking erupted from the back of the car. We just about fell off our seats laughing.
I told you ducks were smart, didn’t I?
Ducks in Subaru.