Call it the gift that keeps on giving. And giving. In 1876, upon the occasion of America's first Centennial Celebration, an exposition was held in Philadelphia. Several foreign countries submitted various exhibits, among them being a garden from Japan featuring plants native to that country. That was the first time Americans set their eyes upon the Kudzo vine. Some gardeners were drawn by its foliage and sweet scented flower, and not long afterwards a few nurserymen began to propagate it and offer it for sale. The rest, as they say, is history.
You can't drive anywhere in the Southeast for long without seeing Kudzu. Lots of Kudzu. Love it or hate it, it is here to stay and a classic case history of the unintended consequences of introducing an exotic species into the environment.
Georgia born poet and novelist James Dickey wrote a poem about it, aptly entitled "Kudzu":
"... Up telephone poles,
Which rear, half out of leavage
As though they would shriek
Like things smothered by their own
Green, mindless, unkillable ghosts.
In Georgia, the legend says
That you must close your windows
At night to keep it out of the house
The glass is tinged with green, even so,
As the tendrils crawl over the fields.
The night the Kudzu has
Your pasture, you sleep like the dead.
Silence has grown oriental
And you cannot step upon the ground...
A plant that is now considered one of the top ten most invasive foreign species in this country was once the object of ardent evangelism by USDA as a means of controlling soil erosion and as a potential forage crop for livestock. At the time, I'm sure, it seemed like a good idea.
Nicknamed the "Mile a Minute Vine" and "The Vine That Ate The South", Kudzu is indeed a vine that both grows with alarming speed and one that has spread throughout much of the South. It now covers some 10 million acres. When I say "covers" I mean covers. You can check out a link below that has several photos of houses, vehicles, equipment, trees, telephone poles...you name it, that have been engulfed by the vine. There's something oddly beautiful and disquieting about it at the same time.
In the summer, kudzu can grow more than a foot a day. Over the course of a season it will grow 100 feet long. When the first frosts of late fall make the foliage die off, the vines pick right up where they left off come Spring. It actually grows better in the American South than it does in its native Japan and China, preferring the climate here and benefitting from the fact that it has no natural insect pests. The Japanese, it seems, left those at home, bringing only the plant stock. (Until recently...more below)
During the 30's, and in the aftermath of the Dust Bowl, the Soil and Conservation Service struck upon the notion of using kudzu in the South to combat erosion. Through the Civilian Conservation Corps, hundreds of men found work planting the vines across the South. The USDA proselytized its virtues to farmers throughout the region, offering subsidies of $8.00 per acre to anyone who planted their fields with it. That proved to be a more than adequate incentive, and coupled with the plant's own natural vigor, it soon took off.
By 1953 the government stopped advocating for its use to control erosion. In 1972 it went one step further, classifying kudzu as a weed. Many states have gone further still, declaring it a noxious weed. Here in Oregon, a farm close to Portland was found to have a kudzu infestation not long ago. State authorities quickly closed in to eradicate the plant. It has found its way out of America's Southeast to states such as Washington, Illinois, Ohio, Tennessee, Kentucky, Pennsylvania...even California. It will, most likely, eventually extend its reach throughout the Great Lakes States.
The vines climb up trees until they completely engulf and smother them. Ditto with the understory plants. Nothing can stand its ground in the face of the vines march. One researcher with the U.S. Forest Service, based in Alabama, spent 18 years of his career looking for a chemical means of controlling the vine, to no avail. Most herbicides have no effect on it. One common herbicide actually promotes faster growth. There are currently now some chemicals available that will control or eradicate the vine, but it can often be a multiyear treatment process.
Where the vine is an agricultural pest, one of the most promising methods for control is by using...what else? Goats. But in woodlots, forests, along highways and utility right of ways, it's a much tougher proposition. Left uncontrolled, the vines will climb up telephone or electric utility poles until they reach the top, and then spread out along the cables. Eventually the weight of the vines and the tension they exert are enough to snap those lines. Utility companies spend in the neighborhood of $1.5 million each year for kudzu control and repairs.
If you live in the South or have done any amount of driving through the South, you know exactly what I'm talking about here. For those who have not, here is a website that has several good photos of what the vine is capable of doing to the landscape. It's worth taking a look at:
http://www.jjanthony.com/...
I had said that this plant came here and took off due to both the climate and the lack of any natural insect pests. Less than 2 years ago, the Chinese saw fit to send us a bug that eats kudzu, albeit not through any act of altruism. There's nothing altruistic about foreign trade, or the unintended hitch hikers that accompany boatloads of goods across national borders. Again, in Georgia, an insect previously unknown here in the United States made its first appearance. It's the Kudzu Bug. Similar to the Brown Stink Bugs that are already a plague in the Eastern US, and spreading rapidly throughout the United States (and another gift to us from our Asian trade partners), the kudzu bug appeared in October of 2009. It's already so plentiful that it is creating major problems. Like another exotic insect that was introduced deliberately decades ago, the Asian Ladybug, at the first hint of cold weather it seeks out the warmth of homes. Quickly, your house can take an Amityville Horror aspect as they mass upon interior and exterior walls that catch the sun. They emit a pungent, off putting aroma just to add insult to injury.
So...you might ask, is it good for anything? Sure it is, though I'm not sure its benefits outweigh its negative aspects.
Among the more interesting uses is in the treatment of alcoholism. The kudzu root contains compounds that can be extracted from the dried roots and used to control cravings for alcohol. The Chinese have used dried kudzu root for that purpose for generations, and now genuine, clinical medical researchers have shown it to be, in fact, effective.
You can eat it, I've read. One can make soups out of the leaves, though it doesn't sound too appealing. The Japanese use the root in their cuisine. That'll never catch on here.
Some craftspeople in the South have used the supple vines to fashion a new breed of artisan basketry. Again...it would take a number of basket factories to make much of a dent. One artist makes her own paper using kudzu leaves, dies it and uses it to make distinctive collages.
The Holy Grail of Kudzu utilization would, of course, be for making biofuel. Researchers are working on it...but so far with mixed results at best. It's not a blind alley, but it isn't particularly promising, either.
So...it grows. And grows. And spreads slowly outside of the Southeast. Those who live there are so familiar with it that they probably don't pay much attention to it anymore. But the landscapes it creates as it takes over old buildings, abandoned vehicles or construction equipment are ghostly to one who sees them with fresh eyes.
And a reminder of the inherent dangers associated with bringing a foreign species into the country for some anticipated benefit.
There are almost always unintended consequences.