Canadian thistles

When we lived on our first place in the late sixties and early 70's, neither Cliff nor I knew much about noxious weeds; but Cliff had been around enough farms, apparently, to know what a Canadian thistle was.  They weren't noticeable on our first twenty acres.  Actually, there were none I knew of.  I had a couple of small children, and didn't get out to walk around our pasture much.  But one day I was outside with Cliff when he noticed a weed with a purple flower and stickers all over it.  He cussed it and made sure to get rid of it, I don't recall how:  He may have used a pocket knife.  He told me how, if one of those purple flowers turn white, the tiny seeds will spread for miles when a breeze carries them away; the weeds could totally take over a place.  We seldom saw any of those noxious weeds while we lived there, but when we did, Cliff wasted no time getting to it and destroying it immediately.

When we'd go to Blue Springs, though, on the outskirts of town were properties that had been farmland but were now for sale; the town was enjoying a population explosion at the time.  Investors were buying up vacant land and leaving it idle, hoping to make some big money as the city expanded.  After the farmers sold the properties, nobody bothered to tend fences and mow the pastures; that's when I got to see just how invasive Canada thistles can be.  They can grow up to five feet tall, and they will absolutely take over a property if they are left alone.  I became a thistle-hater like  Cliff after seeing the damage they could do.

Even though we weren't real farmers, Cliff subscribed to a farm magazine or two; we read a couple of different articles about some insects that would kill the plants for you, but that just seemed too good to be true.  

"Four species of insects are designated for use in as a biological control for thistles: Canada Thistle Stem Mining Weevil, whose larva bore into the stem and roots; Musk Thistle Head Weevil, whose larva consume the thistle head (blossom and seeds); Canada Thistle Stem Gall Fly, whose larva grows in a stem gall that impedes the plant's reproductive abilities; and (Thistle-feeding) Shield Bug, also known as the Thistle-Defoliating Beetle or Thistle Tortoise Beetle, which feed on the leaves."

In 1974 we sold our Oak Grove property, briefly rented a farm in north Missouri, got homesick, and came back to the area we knew and loved.  I had three or four Jersey cows, so we needed enough land to support them.  However, when we began looking for a place to buy, there was no acreage the size we needed that wasn't way over what our income allowed.  We didn't want back in Jackson County, with their nuisance zoning laws and inflated real estate prices, so we centered our search in Lafayette County.  The only property in our price range was an old two-story house on six and a half acres... this place, where we still live.  We moved here in May of 1975.  I reluctantly sold all but one of my cows and we were off on a new adventure.  Cliff went back to his old job at the butcher shop near Oak Grove.

What little available pasture we had here was fenced, and there was a low outbuilding that had once been a large chicken house where I could milk my cow and house the chickens.  The eastern end of the tiny "farm" was nothing but ditches and timber, and totally useless for anything but goats, and Cliff hates goats.  It was either buy this place or move to town.

Because it was May, we didn't see any Canada thistles when we looked at the place.  But it wasn't long until we realized we had a problem; those evil weeds were coming up everywhere.  You can mow them again and again, but they come back from the roots, not to mention the new seedlings from the seeds that fall to the ground.  I'd say there was about one plant for every square foot.  Back then I was outside a lot; I had huge gardens in those days, and usually had a hoe handy.  I had seen Cliff grab a hoe and chop down a thistle at ground level, so I decided that was something I could do.  I'd walk around that little plot for an hour at a time, destroying each hated plant I came to, right down to tiny seedlings.  This still left the roots in the ground from which would spring a plant, but I figured if I faithfully went out with my trusty hoe, it would make a difference.  If only there had been an easier way.


We had a rainy spell one time, the kind where you get three or four inches of rain that comes slowly, over a period of a couple days.  A real soaker.  I walked the pasture, seeing all the thistles I'd hoed off re-emerging, and got an idea:  What if the bigger plants could be pulled up by the roots while the ground is soft?  Get rid of the roots, it can't grow back; right?  On the first try, I grabbed the plant right next to the ground, where it has fewer thistles.  However, there were enough thistles to hurt.  I put on some work gloves and tried again; I'd feel the prick of a tiny thistle come through the gloves once in awhile, but ignored it and kept on pulling.  The ground was so thoroughly soaked that those roots, some of them a foot long, came out easily.

Unfortunately, when I woke up the next morning I found out I'd gotten stuck more than I realized.  My hands were swollen and painful; the thistles had gotten their revenge.  Later on I learned to put on Cliff's leather gloves, although there weren't many times when the soil was soaked enough for this method to work.  

Believe it or not, I got rid of thistles on our six acres.  I patrolled the pasture often, and the seedlings that came up were quickly hoed, so it was now a manageable problem.      

Several years later we had an opportunity to buy some adjoining land when a next-door neighbor sold his place, and that made us the owners of around 43 acres all told, most of which was a virtual Canadian Thistle farm.  Yes, I got the newly acquired land down to a low population of thistles, too, although right across the fence were thistles as tall as my head, sending new seeds all over the countryside.  It was frustrating, but I suppose the exercise I got hoeing thistles was good for me.  Occasionally someone mowed the place next door, but they didn't do it at the ideal time for getting rid of thistles.

I don't know how many years later I noticed there were far less thistles on the other side than there had been, with nobody really trying to get rid of them.  I remembered the magazine articles from the 70's; Surely then, that's what decimated those thistles.  Eventually there wasn't a thistle showing on that place.  My first thought was, "All that work I did, all the times those thistles hurt me, and I could have just waited for some bugs to show up and get rid of the plants!"

But we'd have had to put up with many thistles for several years before that method got rid of them, so I guess my labor was worth it.  Cliff. by the way, is still amazed at how many of them I got rid of with just a hoe; it takes a lot to amaze him.  So there's the pride of knowing I once did it.  

And just like that, a bad memory becomes a good one.