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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 />