"There’s one." Bill Wolverton, National Park Ranger,
kneels and removes his pack. A very small Tamarisk stands next to
the trail, its lace-like greenery changing into a fall peach-tone,
not unlike the shift in the new $20 bills.
In fact, it’s actually quite pretty, resembling an ostrich
feather. He rummages through exterior zip pockets to find small,
rubber-handled pruning shears and an old film canister, the kind
that’s aluminum with a twist cap.
"Is that poison?" I ask.
"Yep," he says. He opens the film can and pours Garlon
herbicide into a 4 ounce bottle with a dropper tip. He snips down
the little Tamarisk plant, then squeezes the poison onto the small
stem that still remains.
"That will kill it?" I ask.
"Yep."
This is what it’s like to hike with Bill Wolverton. If there
are non-native plants growing anywhere near his route, he will
kill with impunity. Wolverton is a seasonal ranger with Glen Canyon
National Recreation Area in the Escalante sub district. His mission
has been to remove Tamarisk plants and Russian Olive trees within
the Canyons of the Escalante. The task is almost overwhelming.
The whole business of killing trees is a surprise to me if someone
has had a calling to be a National Park Service Ranger. But the
trees are not native-they are alien invaders intent on total domination.
Wolverton has lead Sierra Club Service Trips and Wilderness Volunteers
on plant murdering sprees in the canyons, carrying pruning saws,
loppers and sprayers in addition to their hiking gear. Some have
called it the most rewarding hike of their whole lives. Others
have struggled to keep up with Wolverton’s pace--and passion.
On these latest trips, volunteers have even carried chain saws
across the desert sands and down into the canyons to rid the waterways
of the larger trees.
Cattle have not been allowed to graze in the canyons on the rec
area for over twelve years, and the plants have literally taken
over. And it’s not just the Tamarisk and Olive-willow, maple,
rabbit brush, and native grasses have returned in abundance as
well. In the desert, where there’s water there’s plant
life. But the plants that keep Bill Wolverton awake at night are
Tamarisk and Russian Olive.
Every fall, the Park Service has to place seasonal cattle fences
in the bottom of side canyon entrances into Coyote Gulch, a tributary
of the Escalante River. The fall colors down in the deep red and
black-streaked canyon are gut wrenching in their intensity. The
beauty is so impossible that it takes your breath away. It’s
like being in Las Vegas for the first time, but the sensory overload
is nature in the raw. And then you fall in love with the place.
Apparently Bill is married to the canyons; the two are inextricably
joined, and Bill is fulfilled in this relationship.
I decide to join Bill on the cattle fence patrol. I thought it
would be a great way to kill a Sunday morning. As a new volunteer
with the Park Service, I didn’t know exactly what to expect;
I soon found out that there is plenty of manual labor involved.
Bill hikes very quickly. I had heard rumors from the people that
had hiked with him on other trips that his pace was a bit too fast,
that keeping up with Bill was really tough. Naturally, I was a
little concerned that I wouldn’t be able to hack a hike with
him. But his pace was just fine with me, and we sped through about
five miles in the canyon bottoms that day.
At two miles in, Bill snipped the little Tamarisk. At four miles
in, Bill pointed to a canyon wall. "Look over there. There
are some pictographs you might be interested in," Bill said.
I walked over to the canyon wall and sure enough there was an old
standby, Devil Guy. Devil Guy is everywhere in southwest rock art.
Whether it’s a pictograph or petroglyphs, Fremont or Anasazi,
Devil Guy is pretty popular--more so than Kokopelli, but just not
as aesthetically pleasing. This particular rendition of Devil Guy
had a large male organ-"Thought you’d like that," Bill
chuckles. After I stop and look a bit, we walk on.
About 10 yards later, Bill turns around. "I put a Russian
Olive over by those paintings. Didn’t you see it? I cut it
down a few days ago and decided to put it there to test you, see
if you saw it or even recognized it! YOU WERE TOO BUSY LOOKING
AT ROCK ART!"
I cringe. "Bill you’re making me feel bad," I
say.
"Good!" he says. I feel a bit of the showman seeping
into Ranger Bill. His voice rises and he shakes his fists in the
air. "At least my life has been lived for some better reason.
I’ve taught you to feel bad for not seeing that plant."
I’ve just been shamed into identifying non-native plant
species. I keep my head up and my eyes peeled while hiking from
that moment on. "So Bill…do you kill Russian Thistle,
too?" Russian Thistle, better known as tumbleweed, has established
itself well in the American Southwest. "No," says Bill
with regret. "It’s just too … too entrenched."
Later, I ask Bill for some time to sit down and discuss his obsession
with Tamarisk and Russian Olive. He agrees, but hands me an eleven-page
memo he sent to his Resource Management superiors at Glen Canyon. "Read
this first. Then ask me questions."
I find that the memo is a detailed account of Bill’s work
by himself and with the volunteer groups to kill off the intruding
plants and trees. His final observation?
"Eradicating Russian Olive from the Escalante River canyons
is going to be a huge job, and is going to take several years.
It will not be easy, and constant follow up will be required to
maintain control of it. However, it can be done, and the consequence
of not doing it is to allow the Escalante and its side canyons
to become a nearly continuous monoculture of Russian Olive from
one end to the other, with nearly all the native vegetation replaced
by the invader."
Looking at Bill, he reminds you of someone that should be pushing
paper in an office somewhere. His thick glasses and his deliberate
conversational style click with his old day job: mechanical engineer
for the Southern Pacific Railroad. He was laid off in 1982. He
took odd jobs and lived off of his savings until he sold his house
in California and bought his Escalante house outright in 1986.
He had been hiking the Escalante Canyons since 1979, and since
he was enamored with the country, he decided to make Escalante
his home. "I wouldn’t live anyplace else," he says.
He became a part-time park ranger in 1988 because he admired the
people doing the job. He added, "I was also out of a job and
needed to do something."
Bill’s house is unassuming, definitely a bachelor pad. The
wood working--the doors, windows, trim and floors--is exceptionally
well done. It’s one of his personal talents. The furniture
is hodge-podge, a clear signal he doesn’t spend much time
sitting around. He explains that the house used to be a one-room
pioneer cabin. After several additions through the years, it now
looks like a ranch-style home. The kitchen is Bill’s next
big project. A new bumper sticker waits on the dining room table: "Born
OK the first time." Camping gear and backpacks of various
sizes sit waiting by the front door, ready for Bill’s next
volunteer hiking group or patrol in the canyons. Even when Bill
isn’t working, he goes hiking. His compulsive need to hike
the canyons is an addiction he just can’t kick.
Bill says he became aware of Tamarisk when he first moved here. "I
had read Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire, Monkey Wrench Gang, and
somewhere along there I became aware of it (Tamarisk). That was
25 years ago. I had no idea about Russian Olive until well after
I moved here. I had no idea then that it was destined to become
the nightmare that is has become."
Tamarix chinensis, or Tamarisk, was introduced from Eurasia for
erosion control in the west, and found its way into Utah by 1880.
By the 1920s, the Colorado River and all its tributaries had fallen
victim to the alluring plant from halfway around the world. Its
seeds are so small that they carry easily on the wind.
The first effort to rid Coyote Gulch of Tamarisk began in 1992
or 1993 (Bill isn’t sure of the exact year.) "We didn’t
use any herbicide, just chopped it down. It didn’t take long
to find out it was just going to come back with a vengeance. The
first organized, concerted effort to eradicate Tamarisk in Coyote
was April, 1995, with Sierra Club. We used minimal tools, and had
three herbicide sprayers between us. They all failed within the
week. We made some progress."
Bill elaborates: "Tamarisk seeds spread so far and so wide,
you could take a bulldozer and gouge out a hole for a pond. And
sure enough, Tamarisk will grow in it after it collects rainwater.
Even with minimal water, the plant will keep hanging on. I’m
convinced, from what I’ve seen, that Tamarisk is everywhere.
"The Green River, the Colorado River, Tidwell Bottoms on
the San Rafael…have vast forests of Tamarisk, acres and acres.
I don’t know how you could do anything about it. I’m
pessimistic. Perhaps an economic need for Tamarisk could make a
difference; maybe we could turn the paper industry loose on it.
The good thing about it is if native plants have the upper hand,
they keep Tamarisk at bay."
Russian Olive knows no such bounds. Birds eat and spread its not-really-fleshy
seeds, which also wash down waterways during floods. The ornamental
tree was brought to the desert southwest because it grew so well
in drought conditions, and helped to prevent erosion. The Russian
Olive was first brought to the Escalante Drainage in the late 1940s
by the Soil Conservation Service. Local high school students helped
with the tree-planting project. Now, in the upper reaches of the
Escalante Drainage west of town, there is almost nothing growing
except Russian Olive.
Elaeagnus Angustifolia L. is Russian Olive’s scientific
name. The so-called "shrub" has delicious-smelling, cream-yellow
flowers in late May, June, and July that are reminiscent of a sweet
musk cologne. The larger the Russian Olive, the larger its thorns,
which are incredibly sharp. River runners would do well to steer
clear of any branches hanging down into water corridors. Its silvery,
pale green leaves are instantly recognizable. The tree’s
home turf is in Western Asia and Southeastern Europe. Apparently,
Germans cultivated the plant in the 1700’s as an ornamental.
Its popularity and its seeds) spread from there. The reason it
grows so well is its ability to fix nitrogen in its root system,
thereby taking over rocky areas and riparian areas where cottonwoods
have died. Russian Olive is so hardy it will grow anywhere between
the elevations of 800 to 2000 feet above sea level, and any riparian
areas in the Great Basin Deserts or the Great Plains.
"Everywhere you go in the west, Russian Olive is everywhere.
It’s mind boggling, a monster. There is nothing that can
compete with it. It will displace everything in the under story,
and in time become the over story," Wolverton warns. Bill
finds an upside to the plant, though. "The Russian Olive’s
seeds make it easier to control so I’ve focused on it more."
"I’m trying to lead the way and show it can be done.
Not just the initial clearing, but the follow-up work, upstream
and at the initial seed sources. Follow-up is absolutely essential.
If you don’t go back to make sure a tree is dead, you could
come back a year later and have a HUGE bush of suckers-plus, there
are always new ones."
He showed me a slice of a felled Russian Olive’s stump,
29" in circumference, 9" in diameter. The wood was hard,
almost as hard as a rock. Literally. If you hit someone in the
head with the small wafer, they could be seriously injured or even
die. The ring growth was phenomenal-it’s clear that the tree
soaked up water like a sponge. Counting the rings, it was only
15 years old. This particular tree must have been huge.
"You can’t pound a nail into that stuff," says
Bill. "There just isn’t an awareness of what kind of
a disaster this is. And nurseries are still selling it, and people
are still planting it! The State of Colorado actually has the Russian
Olive listed as a noxious weed and new plantings are prohibited.
Riparian areas in the whole west are at risk."
Wolverton’s mission of Tamarisk and Russian Olive eradication
is an uphill battle that seems impossible. I’m puzzled. Why
does Bill care as long as he gets a paycheck?
"I care about this place, the Canyons of the Escalante. It’s
a very special place to me; it gave me a whole new direction in
life--inspiration. The canyons gave me a focus.
"In the short time we’ve done this, the progress we’ve
made gives me hope. Someone who cares will do it; they have to
want to do it. They can’t be ordered to do it by the bureaucracy
above."
To date, Wolverton and the volunteers who assist him have cleared
23.5 miles of the Escalante River corridor, over one fourth of
the entire length of the Escalante, in three years. Coyote Gulch
and several other side canyons have been completely cleared as
well.
I ask Bill if he thinks Ed Abbey would have approved of his quest
to rid the canyons of the exotic plants. Bill grabs his dog-eared
copy of Desert Solitaire and turns to the section in which Abbey
offers his polemic on what park rangers DON"T do anymore…and
reads aloud. Then he laughs a little and looks over the book at
me.
"I think he would approve, and participate if he had the
opportunity."
It has been some time since I’ve spoken with Bill about
the aliens. I cannot seem to avoid seeing them if I’m out
on an errand that requires a trip to Cedar City or Kanab, Utah.
I look out the car window and all I see is Russian Olive and Tamarisk.
How has it come to this? The one place I found that seemed to have
a true riparian habitat was the Cottonwood Wash Road. Once you
drove south far enough from Cannonville, the pale green invaders
hadn’t encroached.
I decide that Bill is right; the plants are taking over. I’ve
heard talk of control measures for Tamarisk, like releasing a beetle
that eats the stuff (a thought that scares the hell out of me),
and of camels being set upon it to graze (not as scary--it’s
a native food for them back home in Eurasia). There is nothing
that I’ve heard about Russian Olive, the real aggressor,
that could stop its spread EXCEPT what Bill is doing: cutting it
down and poisoning the stump.
Hiking in the Escalante River Corridor, you will still see the
trees in some sections. Happily, non-natives no longer exist in
Coyote Gulch, a canyon that is one of the gems of Glen Canyon National
Recreation Area. The last time I hiked through the lush canyon,
with its maiden hair ferns, horse tails, willows and cottonwoods,
I silently thanked Bill and his volunteers.
And I chuckled as I walked past that pictograph panel.
Interested in helping Bill out on a service trip? Visit www.wildernessvolunteers.org
or www.sierraclub.org Look for the trips listing Glen Canyon National
Recreation Area.