High Points: The Thistle column

Just about every year, I run some version of this column with the intent of calling attention to a scourge in our valley.

And now that we have had a little rainfall this week and I can see the weeds are beginning to take their natural course and starting to sprout in my back yard, it’s once again time to dredge it out of the digital depths of my computer. Yes, we are on the cusp of weed season.

I’m not talking about just the regular garden variety weeds, the kind that grow on your lawn. I’m talking about the thistles — those insidious, prickly weeds that return annually to take over open land all around the county.

Look over there, that’s the Canada Thistle with its lavender flowers blooming atop the hairy, sticky stalks. And there on the side of the road is the pesky Musk Thistle, with its dark green leaves and the little pricker-stickers that seem to leap off their branches and penetrate your fingers. Let’s not forget the Plumeless Thistles that are all over the county and seem to find a home whenever and wherever a new ditch, hole, or road is dug.

Pitkin County’s Weed Advisory Board has a published list of 36 different weeds that are subject to eradication, containment, or suppression depending upon the infestation. Many of the weeds, the Oxeye Daisy or the Leafy Spurge, for example, are just as bad as thistles in terms of their effects on the surrounding landscape. But they seem more benign because they are not weaponized like the thistles and don’t poke you with their stickers.  

Old Snowmass, where I reside, is a hotbed for the insurgents. Our Road Association calls in the pros each year to do an assessment and spray the weeds before they get too uppity. I try to do my personal part to get a handle on thistles on my property, but it can be hard. The problem is there are so many of them and so few of me. I will walk the road with a good sharp ax or wade into the fields and stomp on the roots of the thistles. Once they are down, I will “thrash” them with the ax, separating the stalks from the root system. It seems that for each one I destroy, though, six more rise up to take their place.

Once upon a time — not as far back as the day of the ZG license plates, but still, a while ago — one would regularly see “Thrash a Thistle for Fritz” bumper stickers on local cars. They were an attempt to raise awareness for the need to eradicate these invaders before they took over and forced out the “local” weeds (kind of like second-home owners). There are folks who still take that saying to heart and get out into the fields, into the ditches, and down by the streams to knock out as many thistles as they can before they go to flower.

For the uninitiated, the “Fritz” on the bumper sticker was Fritz Benedict. Fritz, who passed in 1995, was an Aspen pioneer, architect, and land planner and one of the premier progenitors of the Aspen Idea. He was also a noted pupil of Frank Lloyd Wright. His apprenticeship with Wright began when he became the head gardener at Taliesin, Wright’s famed school for architects in Spring Green, Wisconsin. It was there that Benedict began an association with the earth and the things that grow in it. Later in life, he became a strong advocate for the removal of noxious weeds — hence the slogan “Thrash a Thistle for Fritz.”

They may seem overwhelming, but if you can, this weekend, grab an ax, a shovel, or a machete, and walk your land. You may not get them all, but thrashing a thistle or two is good land management.

Do it for the land. Do it for Fritz.