Tamarix ramosissima, Tamarisk, Tamarix, Salt Cedar, Tammie... No matter which name you use, just about every botanist or naturalist in western North America will give you a cringe or a knowing nod. They'll count down the river miles lost to tamarisk invasion, the acres of riparian habitat lost, the sheer volume of species being pushed out by these resource grabbing, soil destroying, river killing monster plants.
And, like most things which are slowly destroying our natural environment, they owe their presence and their power to us, to the short-sighted, thirsty and energy hungry humans who claim to have 'conquered' the arid lands of North America.
Sound over dramatized? Do you think that once again, Wendy's standing on her ecological soap box and spouting melodramatic nonsense just to make a silly point?
Okay, maybe. But if you knew tammies like I knew tammies - you might just nod right alongside those nutty botanists.
So - in short, it's a bush/tree brought to the Americas from Eurasia (for ornament and to control soil erosion) that loves sandy wetland environments such as the banks of our western rivers. By doing SUCH a good job of controlling flooding along these rivers with our system of massive dams, we've given tammies the perfect breeding grounds to spread. And spread. And spread.
And, like most things which are slowly destroying our natural environment, they owe their presence and their power to us, to the short-sighted, thirsty and energy hungry humans who claim to have 'conquered' the arid lands of North America.
Sound over dramatized? Do you think that once again, Wendy's standing on her ecological soap box and spouting melodramatic nonsense just to make a silly point?
Okay, maybe. But if you knew tammies like I knew tammies - you might just nod right alongside those nutty botanists.
Tamarix growing in the arid lands of it's native environment in China
So - in short, it's a bush/tree brought to the Americas from Eurasia (for ornament and to control soil erosion) that loves sandy wetland environments such as the banks of our western rivers. By doing SUCH a good job of controlling flooding along these rivers with our system of massive dams, we've given tammies the perfect breeding grounds to spread. And spread. And spread.
With a regular flood regime or in their natural, sandy and devastatingly dry habitat, disturbance would be too frequent for tamarisk to completely take over. However, without such natural controls, it develops quickly into dense, impenetrable clumps on every available patch of soil. Native species, such as the Gooding Willow, which could provide excellent shade and wildlife habitat in these areas, just can't compete. Native bird and wildlife species don't get the same habitat value from the non-native plants, including (as we learned) the beaver, which really dislikes chewing on the plentiful tammies and prefers tender young willows (more on that in part 2). The tamarisk drink unheard of quantities of water from the soil, soak up the excess salts that have been washed into the system through agriculture, and then release those salts onto their minuscule scaly leaves. Those leaves fall to the ground and cause the salinity of the soil to rise - further ruining the chances for native species to thrive.
So, they're mean, over controlling, and aggressive foreigners - everything that American's just can't stand. Yet, their dominance along the Colorado River, in particular through the Grand Canyon, has been nearly unchallenged since the floodgates closed on the Glen Canyon Dam in 1966. Ecologists and NPS scientists have made attempts to rein in their takeover of many of the tributary canyons and streams, but the sheer scale of the task on the beaches along the river was overwhelming. Then there's the generations of recreational and commercial boaters that have come to depend upon what little verdant cover they provided in that hotbox. They certainly didn't want a wholesale slaughter of the only shade left down there.
It looked like tamarisk in the Inner Gorge would be king for a long time to come. That is, until the beetle came.
The tamarisk beetle (Diorhabda carinulata) was introduced in Utah in the early part of the 21st century, as an experiment to control tamarisk invasion. The beetle defoliates tamarisk and only tamarisk repeatedly over several growing seasons until the exhausted plant dies, providing a natural control in it's native environment. It seemed to some biologists and land managers a natural solution to a complex man-made problem. Just import a new non-native species to eliminate the one you imported 200 years ago.
I knew an old lady who swallowed a fly...
In any case, the fight over the release of the beetle hinged in part on the assumption that the beetles would not be able to reproduce at the lower latitudes of the Grand Canyon and Arizona because of a particular quirk in their development cycle.
'Don't worry, Grand Canyon' I was told the Utah scientists claimed, 'it can't come your way'.
Well, it seems evolution trumped us again, and the beetle has continued to spread south and is not only in the canyon, but rapidly moving past it. While this has some desired effects - potentially to reduce the dominance of the tamarisk on the beaches in the canyon - it also creates some problems. What do we do with all of these once vegetated stretches of land on which tens of thousands of people vacation and explore each year? Where wildlife species such as the endangered southwestern Willow Flycatcher have taken up residence, and where - without the tamarisk to hold the soil in place, the unrelenting and unchanging flow of water from Glen Canyon dam will simply erase any trace of usable land?
Melissa McMaster and her team at the NPS worked with Fred Phillips consulting in Flagstaff and came up with an innovative and daring pilot project to explore exactly that question - and they launched it at my personal favorite campsite in the whole Grand Canyon: Monument Creek/Granite Beach.
The plan proposed in the project includes establishing riparian species to replace the tamarisk as they become defoliated or die off, improving camping facilities for boaters and backpackers and creating improved habitat for wildlife species along the river. It's all in hopes of finding effective techniques that can be used to restore other treasured beaches in the canyon.
This, as it goes, is where I come in. I learned about the project when I was on the North Rim this last fall, or at least I saw a call for volunteers then. I might have had zero concept of what was going on, but I saw 'Granite Beach' and 'restoration' and I was sold. I've been hiking down to that camping area for more than 10 years, and it's been too long since I've visited. Not only would volunteering for this group get me some primo time in a favorite spot with someone else hauling in the good eats, but I'd get to scratch that 'do good' itch that I get from time to time.
I called and signed up that week. What I never knew was that shortly after, many, many more people called to sign up as well. I got on a very long list very close to the top, and that meant I was lucky! Moa ha ha ha!
And so it was that I arrived in Flagstaff on the evening of February 6th, ready once again to dive into my favorite ditch.
You know - it doesn't seem to matter how many times I step into the Grand Canyon, I always get butterflies just before...
So, they're mean, over controlling, and aggressive foreigners - everything that American's just can't stand. Yet, their dominance along the Colorado River, in particular through the Grand Canyon, has been nearly unchallenged since the floodgates closed on the Glen Canyon Dam in 1966. Ecologists and NPS scientists have made attempts to rein in their takeover of many of the tributary canyons and streams, but the sheer scale of the task on the beaches along the river was overwhelming. Then there's the generations of recreational and commercial boaters that have come to depend upon what little verdant cover they provided in that hotbox. They certainly didn't want a wholesale slaughter of the only shade left down there.
It looked like tamarisk in the Inner Gorge would be king for a long time to come. That is, until the beetle came.
 |
| The Tamarisk Beetle doin' its thing |
I knew an old lady who swallowed a fly...
In any case, the fight over the release of the beetle hinged in part on the assumption that the beetles would not be able to reproduce at the lower latitudes of the Grand Canyon and Arizona because of a particular quirk in their development cycle.
'Don't worry, Grand Canyon' I was told the Utah scientists claimed, 'it can't come your way'.
Well, it seems evolution trumped us again, and the beetle has continued to spread south and is not only in the canyon, but rapidly moving past it. While this has some desired effects - potentially to reduce the dominance of the tamarisk on the beaches in the canyon - it also creates some problems. What do we do with all of these once vegetated stretches of land on which tens of thousands of people vacation and explore each year? Where wildlife species such as the endangered southwestern Willow Flycatcher have taken up residence, and where - without the tamarisk to hold the soil in place, the unrelenting and unchanging flow of water from Glen Canyon dam will simply erase any trace of usable land?
Melissa McMaster and her team at the NPS worked with Fred Phillips consulting in Flagstaff and came up with an innovative and daring pilot project to explore exactly that question - and they launched it at my personal favorite campsite in the whole Grand Canyon: Monument Creek/Granite Beach.
The plan proposed in the project includes establishing riparian species to replace the tamarisk as they become defoliated or die off, improving camping facilities for boaters and backpackers and creating improved habitat for wildlife species along the river. It's all in hopes of finding effective techniques that can be used to restore other treasured beaches in the canyon.
This, as it goes, is where I come in. I learned about the project when I was on the North Rim this last fall, or at least I saw a call for volunteers then. I might have had zero concept of what was going on, but I saw 'Granite Beach' and 'restoration' and I was sold. I've been hiking down to that camping area for more than 10 years, and it's been too long since I've visited. Not only would volunteering for this group get me some primo time in a favorite spot with someone else hauling in the good eats, but I'd get to scratch that 'do good' itch that I get from time to time.
I called and signed up that week. What I never knew was that shortly after, many, many more people called to sign up as well. I got on a very long list very close to the top, and that meant I was lucky! Moa ha ha ha!
And so it was that I arrived in Flagstaff on the evening of February 6th, ready once again to dive into my favorite ditch.
 |
| Me and fellow volunteer Mark at the trailhead |
No comments:
Post a Comment