It has been esthnated that all the saltcedar in the Southwest annuallyy
<br />uses twice as much water as all the cities of southern California,
<br />f
<br />it comes back stronger than before," says William Neill, a saltcedar-
<br />.control advocate-in southern California. "It is nor balanced by
<br />rAttiral predation or diseases, so it displaces the native species. It sur
<br />vives extreme environmental conditions very well —fire, salinity,
<br />immersion, drought, dense shade."
<br />And its reproduction is copious: A single saltcedar can produce
<br />up to half a million winged seeds in a year —seeds so tiny it takes
<br />100,000 to make up a gram. When they sprout, the seedlings can
<br />grow up to 10 feet in a year.
<br />Given such profligacy, it's no surprise that saltcedar escaped the
<br />homesteads and pastures where it had been introduced, by the early
<br />20th century it was spreading quickly. On Lake McMillan, a reser-
<br />voir on New Mexico's Pecos River, saltbedar was unknown before
<br />1912. By 1915 it had spread to 600 acres of delta land. By 1925 it
<br />covered 12,300 acres.
<br />In 1960 the most comprehensive survey to date estimated that
<br />saltcedar covered 900,000 acres from Oklahoma to southern
<br />California, Colorado to Sonora. Today experts place that figure at
<br />about a million acres. Though it thrives best in hot areas below
<br />4,000 feet in elevation, it has been seen as far north and east as
<br />Idaho, Oregon, and Nebraska.
<br />otanists have typically ascribed the plant's phenome-
<br />nal spread to its aggressive growth and prolific repro-
<br />duction. But recently some ecologists have asked
<br />why it did not spread explosively until the turn of
<br />the century.
<br />One of those scientists is Duncan Patten, a plant
<br />ecologist at Arizona State University. He believes
<br />saltcedar exploited changing environmental conditions that put
<br />native species at a disadvantage. "Ifyou want to get rid of tamarisk;'
<br />he says, "you have to stop grazing and building dams."
<br />As evidence Patten points to the Nature Conservancy's
<br />Hassayampa River Preserve, a five -mile stretch of well - preserved
<br />riparian forest in the Sonoran Desert of central Arizona. The
<br />woodland has been free of cattle grazing since the preserve was
<br />established in 1987. And because the Hassayampa is an undammed
<br />river, floodplain vegetation is wiped out periodically by high water.
<br />Patten has monitored vegetation changes on the preserve since
<br />1988 and has seen seedling cottonwoods and willows thrive and
<br />saltcedars decline. Some of that is due to a saltcedar- eradication
<br />program organized by the Nature Conservancy, but Patten thinks a
<br />46 ... AMERICAN FQRFsTsJAN-u RYLFFuk_uARY_l9JS-
<br />larger ecological shift is underway.
<br />Patten-believes native cottonwoods and willows can outcom-
<br />pete saltcedar under .a natural flooding regimen, in part because the
<br />natives release their seeds earlier in the year than the invaders do.
<br />Shaded out of higher parts of the floodpWn, the saltcedars are left
<br />to seed the lowest, wettest, least stable areas.
<br />The cessation of grazing in the woodland has had an tffect
<br />also, because cattle prefer the taste of cottonwoods and willows.
<br />William Neill disputes Patten's belief that returning rivers.to a
<br />natural flooding regime and reducing or eliminating riparian graz-
<br />ing will be enough. "What's going to make the difference is remov-
<br />ing the big seed trees;' he says. "The natural trend is for more
<br />tamarisk and fewer native species, unless there's proactive human
<br />involvement:'
<br />Neill, a petroleum engineer, became interested in saltcedar in
<br />the late 1970s during a visit to Death Valley National Monument.
<br />Eagle Borax Spring had been a verdant, marshy oasis — critical
<br />wildlife habitat in the dry heart of the Mojave Desert. But by the
<br />1960s, dense saltcedar growth had caused surface water to disap-
<br />pear, native grasses and reeds to dry up, and nearby mesquite trees
<br />to suffer from groundwater depletion.
<br />The National Park Service staff began burning saltcedar as part
<br />of a control program in 1972. For the next 10 years, rangers and
<br />volunteers cut back the resprouting saltcedar and dosed the stumps
<br />with a systemic herbicide that kills the root system, the only effec-
<br />tive way to kill saltcedar. By 1982 the saltcedars were gone, water
<br />was pooling on the surface, grasses and reeds were coming back,
<br />and the mesquites were healthy again.
<br />What was good- for Eagle Borax Spring was good for other
<br />areas too. "I started seeing tamarisk.all around;'says Neill, who has
<br />become saltcedar's most energetic enemy. "It gradually got to be a
<br />bigger and bigger part of my life." He received a herbicide applica-
<br />tion license and convinced the Bureau of Land Management to let
<br />him institute control programs on its land. He also organized vol-
<br />unteer work parties at various preserves. Neill's Tainarisk NVru6letrrr
<br />publishes the latest findings on cutting saltcedar groves and applying
<br />herbicides, and periodically announces the temporary repulsion of
<br />the invader from selected springs and riparian areas in southern
<br />California.
<br />These labor- intensive techniques work well at isolated desert
<br />springs and preserves, where saltcedar may cover only a few acres.
<br />But in areas such as the lower Colorado River corridor, saltcedar
<br />monocultures cover an estimated 50,000 to 60,000 acres —far too
<br />
|