Goathead Warrior

Ridding the valley of those thorns that puncture bike tires and wound dog paws

- DOUG PAULY

A tall, white-haired guy in a camo hat walking down the street with a shovel, leather gloves and a black garbage bag makes people nervous.

Except my wife. For 30 years Katie has tolerated her husband’s quirky passion as a Goathead Warrior.

Smart husbands go hunting or fishing and bring home food for the table. Bring home 20 pounds of goatheads in a garbage bag? The plants are neither edible nor impressive as a mounted trophy above a fireplace.

I’ve been hunting and killing goatheads (a.k.a. puncturevine) for three decades. With three kids who grew up riding bikes, clearing the goatheads in our neighborhood took less time

Goathead WarriorRidding the valley of those thorns that puncture bike tires and wound dog paws than constantly fixing flat tires.

It is easy to hate goatheads. The razor thorns puncture bicycle tires and by easily sticking to shoe bottoms, car tires and animal paws, can quickly spread to other properties in a neighborhood. The rapidly growing vines climb onto sidewalks and through fences onto adjacent property.

Scouting for goatheads is fun and challenging.

Walking in the still of the morning, I scan the tangle of weeds adjacent to the street or riverfront trail for a goathead’s tell-tale vine pattern, its unique serrated leaf, the sharp spined thorn or its easiest giveaway, bright yellow five petal flowers.

A flashing shovel blade slices the tap root, killing the plant instantly. A rapid, staccato likemotion can kill 40-plus small plants per minute. Large plants, which grow over 16 feet in diameter, require strategically aiming the blade to sever the tap root without cutting attached vines or dislodging thorns. Each thorn has seeds inside that can lay viable in the ground for 5-plus years.