Sue Rutman had been warned: Buffelgrass, she'd been
told, loved disturbance. Pulling up the weed would only overturn
more desert soil, spread seeds, and encourage its expansion. But as
the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument botanist watched
buffelgrass cover longer and longer stretches of park roadside, she
decided to test the conventional wisdom.
"I thought,
'Well, if I let this go, I know it's going to be much, much worse.
I don't know what's going to happen if I try,'" she remembers. "So
I tried."
In 1995, Rutman and a group of college students
cleared buffelgrass from one square mile of the monument in two
days. It was tough, exhausting work: Though desert soils are
usually shallow, buffelgrass roots are stubborn, and the plants
themselves are heavy and unwieldy. "The place looked like it was
nuked when we left," says Rutman. "There wasn't a shovelful of soil
left unturned."
But the next year, buffelgrass didn't
come back as expected. In fact, it hardly came back at all. "I
said, 'Maybe this is doable,' " says Rutman. "So I just kept
plodding along and working at it, and after a while, I realized it
was working."
Rutman and her volunteers moved outward
from a single spot in the desert, repeatedly searching previously
cleared areas for new sprigs of buffelgrass. After five years,
they'd covered 20 square miles of the park. "There are some places
where we pulled out an entire field of buffelgrass - 90 huge
garbage bags full of it - and there have only been one or two
plants there since," she says.
Why, exactly, pulling
works is something of a mystery. Less mysterious is why volunteers
keep coming back to labor in the desert. "It feels great," says
Rutman. "You pull these things out of the ground, and they make
this wonderful rip - it's like, 'Die! Die!'"
When word of the work in Organ Pipe reached
Tucson, volunteers at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum
launched a similar effort in Tucson Mountain Park, a 20,000-acre
county park on the western side of the city. Marilyn Hanson, a
retired biology teacher and a leader of the Sonoran Desert
Weedwackers, reports that since 2000, the group has pulled 50 tons
of buffelgrass.
Every other Wednesday and every third
Saturday throughout the year, the Weedwackers, now affiliated with
the Arizona Native Plant Society and Pima County, spend the morning
pulling buffelgrass from park grounds. Armed with 14-pound digging
bars, garbage bags, and watermelon for sustenance, the volunteers
pry buffelgrass and its relative, fountaingrass, out of narrow
washes and rocky, cactus-studded mountain slopes. They then ferry
30- to 50-pound bags of grass to the road, sometimes a half-mile
hike away.
"When you get 60 bags and pile them up, it's
so concrete," says Hanson. "I think that's what drives me, and a
lot of other people. It's very obvious what we've done. It's not
like writing letters to Congress."
The Weedwackers, who
have about eight regular members and several dozen sporadic
pullers, have been joined by Rotary clubs, Boy Scout groups,
homeowner's associations, and busloads of students from college
fraternities. "It's a good way to work off a Saturday morning
hangover," laughs Tucson Mountain Park staffer Doug Siegel. Some of
these groups, in turn, have started buffelgrass- pulling efforts in
their own neighborhoods, and an independent Weedwacker group now
tears up weeds in Phoenix.
Despite its visible rewards in particular areas,
hand-to-hand combat is slow and often costly, especially when the
invasion is advanced. Though researchers spotted buffelgrass in the
backcountry of Saguaro National Park in the mid-1990s, the park
didn't begin consistent efforts to pull it until 2000. Staff and
volunteers could only pull 30 to 55 acres each year, an effort
quickly overwhelmed: By 2002, buffelgrass had infested 170 acres of
the park, while its relative, fountaingrass, had invaded more than
100. "We hand-pulled for four years, until I said, 'Enough is
enough,' " says Danielle Foster, a former restoration ecologist for
the park. "We just weren't getting anywhere."
So the park
switched to harder stuff. U.S. Geological Survey ecologist Todd
Esque, who studied buffelgrass and fire at the park for about a
decade, found that without the help of volunteers, hand-pulling one
acre of buffelgrass can cost more than $13,000. Selective spraying
of buffelgrass with Roundup is just about as effective and can cost
less than $1,000. Parks, as a rule, use herbicides in wilderness
and backcountry areas only as a last resort. But in 2005, the park
superintendent and regional staff approved their use for
buffelgrass control.
"Once chemical control became an
option, we were covering hundreds of acres," says Dana Backer, who
worked on buffelgrass control at the park in 2005 and 2006. But by
2006, just as heavy rains were giving the buffelgrass an extra
boost, key staff had departed, and the park had largely suspended
its control efforts, relying on sporadic volunteer projects and
visits from a Park Service invasive species team based in Nevada.
Organized spraying efforts resumed this month.
The
disadvantage of herbicides - aside from the possible secondary
effects of widespread use - is that they're only effective on
buffelgrass when it greens up in the summer. Pulling, on the other
hand, can continue through the cooler days of the fall and winter,
when volunteer work is most attractive.
In Organ Pipe
Cactus National Monument, whose southern edge abuts the border with
Mexico, summertime herbicide use has acquired an unexpected appeal.
Because of drug-related violence along the border, the park has
effectively shut volunteers - and the general public - out of
backcountry areas until further notice. Since summer is the low
season for drug smuggling, staffers with backpack sprayers could
replace wintertime volunteers and their digging bars. "Border
issues take their own direction," says Rutman, "and we
respond."

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