Devil's-club -- Oplopanax horridus
An inglorious event that has played through my mind on occasion: to falter on a steep mountain slope, tumble down scree and over cliff tearing flesh and breaking bone, gaining speed on my way toward the tree line and the inevitable understory. That momentum arresting understory is a thicket of devil’s-club with its infamous spines. Insult added to injury.
Devil’s-club (Oplopanax horridus) is a deciduous thicket-forming shrub common to lowland and middle-elevation forests in coastal Alaska and found in wet ravines as far south as Oregon and east to Montana. Growing up to 12 feet high, the mostly unbranched stems are covered in spines with a handful of large palmate leaves near the top. The plant smells fresh and faintly sweet, an aroma that can be detected in the air near a large thicket, but is most noticeable when a stem is cut and the inner bark exposed. A pyramidal spike of white flowers in the spring is followed by red berries that are eaten by bears. In the fall, the leaves turn yellow brilliantly before dropping to the ground. In the winter, large stands of spine covered sticks standing on end; an abundance of quality walking sticks for any old devil.
Devil’s-club appears ancient. Its oversized leaves recall the age of megaflora and fauna. Its simple unbranched stems densely covered with longs spines seem primeval. There is something elemental in devil’s-club. A wholly unnecessary amount of spines cover the plant from top to bottom. Touching devil’s-club with bare skin is ill-advised as I have personally learned. The spines detach from the plant with the greatest of ease, but are removed from skin with great difficulty. Deeply imbedded, they are nearly impossible to fully extract immediately. Instead they fester. Slowly they are pushed closer to the surface of your irritated skin where they are more easily removed, a process that can take days or weeks. Avoiding the meeting of exposed skin and devil’s-club is a lesson that only needs to be taught once.
Though so associated with the Pacific Northwest, an isolated population of devil’s-club is located on the eastern end of Isle Royale and a few smaller islands in Lake Superior. From there, you would have to travel west over 1,000 miles to the Rocky Mountains in Montana before finding another population of devil’s-club. This massive gap can only be explained by long time. At one time the dry and dusty land east of the Rockies must have been suitable habitat for devil’s-club to expand east into the Great Lakes region. Vast landscapes deceive the viewer, or maybe our limited perspective does. Imagining the high and dry plains of eastern Montana and Alberta as a wet bridge connecting the Pacific Northwest and the Great Lakes is difficult. It must involve ice and plate tectonics, slow and fast changes. Disjunct plant populations are so interesting. They humble me in the same way that looking at a rock formation humbles me. The earth is old, life on earth is old. There is wisdom, or at least there is order. Many things that I do not understand make my life possible. So I take a deep breath and let the minutiae wash over me.
Devil’s-club is an immensely important plant for people of the Northwest. Its wide ranging medicinal and cultural significance and ubiquity on the landscape are reflected in the fact that so many tribes throughout its natural range have a name for it. Among the many medicinal applications, it is used to treat diabetes, arthritis, and pneumonia. It is spread on wounds as an antibacterial agent. Oplopanax translates to all-healing shield, referring to the medicinal properties. The Makah, living on the northwest tip of the Olympic Peninsula and making use of devil’s-club wood for fishing lures, call it haaʔałbap meaning “fishing lure plant”. The charcoal from the burned wood can be mixed with oil to create paint, and the sweet smelling inner bark can be used for deodorant. In spring, swelling leaf buds can be collected, blanched to remove the still soft young spines, and eaten. Culturally, devil’s-club plays a role in a number of myths and is considered to bring good luck and ward off evil. With so many reasons to harvest, you can’t blame the plant for its spiny defense.
But in spite of all of these potential uses, walking through the forest in Southeast Alaska it is hard to imagine that devil’s-club could possibly be overharvested. It is everywhere and that is good.