I HATE cat's claw. To say it's my least favorite chaparral scrub would just be too mild.
Cat's claw is a shrub that sports many stems growing from it's base. If unmolested by pruning shears the base becomes more trunk like, growing upward a couple of feet before sending out all those flesh-ripping branches. Multiple prunings that take my enemy back to its roots should weaken or destroy; no, the plant comes back with a vengeance by doubling its shoots and barbs .
Here at Badboulder this shrub is found alongside our pathways, usually nestled so close to a granite boulder that pruning results in abrasion from the rough stone walls in addition to the bloody snags from the claws. Despite leather gloves and thick clothing, I always come away from a pruning session in need or peroxide and antibiotic creme.
My research provided me some interesting information--this plant has pain relieving properties. Native Americans made a mush of the seeds for back pain. Both a topical jell and a capsule form of cat's claw is sold on-line for pain relief. Rather surprising for a plant that has only given me pain.
Pouring salt and vinegar after severe pruning gave us mixed results. Just last week, we think we discovered the reason for spotty eradication.
After my annual wildfire prevention efforts, I applied generous amounts of salt and quit for the day. That night the javelina herd came snorting and plowing through the area and ATE all the salt.
We now know that we can't depend upon winter rains to dissolve the salt. Water or vinegar must immediately be applied to stay ahead of a grubbing javelina.
I do not go out of my way to do battle with cat's claw, therefore we have plenty of this plant draping its lacy leaves across boulders.
If we ever get a line fence around all of Badboulder, David says he is going to transplant cat's claw to vine over and discourage intruders. What a vision!
FROM THE KNOTHOLE: I've been associated with Yarnell over 20 years. Lived here most of that time. During that 20 years, I have come to no conclusions about this town of 500 people, other than we seem to have one of every kind here. Retired diplomat, community activist, PHD, whiners, do-gooders, hermits, cowboys, psychics. Got 'em. Gossipers, ex-cons, druggies, saints, artists, vintage cars, beehives. Yes sir, got those too. Rich people, poor people, old timers, new comers, misfits, community pillars, outlaws, deputies, pianists, POW's, veterans. Yup. St. Joseph. He's here. Antiquers, gardeners, ranchers, farmers, florists, nurses, doctors, engineers, plumbers, electricians, backhoes, dinosaurs. All right in town. Bar keepers, shop keepers, land offices, barbers, hairstylists, office help, home help, spiritualists, welders, carpenters, steel erectors, grave diggers. Yes, indeed. Well people, sick people, cancer survivors, exercise studios, souvenirs, health food, spice shops, garden shops, and hard wares. Right here, in little old Yarnell. And a crazy infantry colonel dug in on the hill. That's me.
a parting shot from bbman: oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. sir walter scott, not shakespeare.
