Summer 2005

Children of the Asparagus
by T. L. Roe

Every spring you see them along the highways and irrigation ditches. Their backs are bent as they search for the green, succulent spears that grow wild throughout southern Colorado. They are the Children of the Asparagus. For them, hunting wild asparagus is more than a mere pastime, it is a celebration. But your not invited to their party, you have to find your own.

Ever since King Louis XIV of France had greenhouses built so he could eat the plant all year long, asparagus has been called the “Food of Kings.” In fact, asparagus has been cultivated for over 20,000 years.

Originally found in the eastern Mediterranean region, asparagus was brought to areas such as North America with settlers. Asparagus was so greatly desired, that as early as 200 BC, Romans developed a “how-to-grow” manual, and were freezing asparagus to preserve it. Today, asparagus is still revered for its healthful properties which make it a mega-fighter of cancer and arterial disease, not to mention that it tastes good.

A perennial member of the lily family, wild asparagus (Asparagus officinalis) comes in many shapes and sizes. It can grow in large bunches of thirty stalks, as three or four plants, or appear as a solo artist. One of the unique attributes of wild asparagus is that every time it is picked, new growth will begin to appear almost immediately, so the fun is not over after the first cultivation.

Wild asparagus is the first vegetable of the spring in Colorado. If climatic conditions are favorable, peek seasons can begin as early as March and last through late July. Once asparagus reaches maturity in its second year of growth, spears can shoot up as much as ten inches in twenty four hours.

Connoisseurs see wild asparagus as more of a delicacy than a mere edible plant. They insist that there is a big difference between the taste of asparagus found growing in the wild and asparagus sold in grocery stores. For them, the difference is like comparing a homegrown tomato fresh from the garden to the cardboard-tasting red balls that pass for tomatoes come midwinter in the stores. Perhaps this is true, or maybe it all boils down to what plant expert Euell Gibbons once said, that “the idea of reaping where you did not sow is the real fascination behind the endeavor.”

The Thrill of the Hunt

It doesn’t take a green guru to unlock the mysteries of hunting wild asparagus. According to the experts, the best places to search are wherever there is a continual source of water. Favorite places include river banks, along highway ditches, and areas where there are thriving stands of trees. But the best spots are those found along irrigation canals. Not only does the water in the canals provide maximum seed dispersal, it also supplies the continual ground seepage that asparagus thrives upon.

Finding new asparagus is as easy as locating last year’s old growth. The dried-out plant stands about three feet high and has a central trunk about a half inch in diameter. Side branches protrude at regular intervals giving it the look of a scraggly, malnourished mini-Christmas tree. Identifying bunches of new asparagus spears should not pose a problem since they look like a colony of big, green phalluses, and as the saying goes, if you see them once you’ll never forget them. But if the spears are not harvested on a regular basis, the tips (ears) will open and bright red berries form, indicating that the plant is past the edible point and needs a haircut before it will produce new growth.

Although places with reliable water put forth a bountiful crop each year, many asparagus hunters still worry about loosing entire root systems to the drought conditions that have plagued Colorado for the past several years.

One area of concern is the Arkansas River Irrigation District, which covers miles of farmland in eastern Pueblo County, and on into Otero County. Janice Daltus, 47, who has been hunting wild asparagus in the Otero County portion of the irrigation district for the past twenty years, has witnessed the effects of the drought first-hand. A native resident of Rocky Ford, Daltus usually harvests pounds of asparagus each Spring for her family, friends, and local grocery stores.

"I sell to Rocky Ford Food Market in my home town and to Jack’s in Fowler, and each year I grow a little more concerned because some of my spots have literally been wiped out from lack of moisture," she said.

Because of the ongoing drought, Daltus (like many avid hunters), has become even more secretive about her personal hunting grounds.

"I have been picking at the same spots for years now, and I don’t like sharing my places. Two years ago, I had a man follow me to one of my spots, and a week later when I came back to pick the new growth it was gone. So, last year I decided to start hunting after dark with a flashlight. That way no one can see where I'm going."

With greater numbers of hyper-secretive, plant-possessive hunters on the prowl, could it be that wild asparagus picking is becoming more of a modernized, competitive sport rather than a stress-relieving pastime? Bob Howland, 42, a veteran hunter from Cañon City, thinks so. Howland, who still chooses to hunt his asparagus the old-fashioned way--on foot, recalls how he came across people with motorized vehicles searching the irrigation ditches where he has picked for the past nine years.

"There is a lot of competition going on for asparagus these days," he said. "When I went to check my plants, I came across three people on four-wheelers tearing up my turf. They looked like they were going on some kind of freak-safari. They were all decked out in camouflage clothes, bent-brim gangster hats, and they wore these fancy canvas belts with compartments that held all kinds of expensive clippers and knives for cutting my crop."
Even though Howland isn’t thrilled with sharing his hunting grounds, he is still kind enough to offer advice to even those who have invaded his space.

"Don't ever cut the stuff. Wait until the stems are eight to ten inches high and then they’ll bend over and you can snap them off above the woody part,” he said. “If you harvest it that way youíll never eat a woody-tasting stem again.”

Howland also suggests to look for spears whose tips are tight and have a medium green color with purple highlights.

“Grab a bunch in your hand and squeeze it,”he said. “If it makes a squeaking noise then you know it’s fresh.”

With Howland’s advice in mind, I decided to go check out a place I discovered last year. I had been searching for wild asparagus along the banks of the Arkansas River near Fowler, when I came across a patch about five feet in diameter. Unfortunately, it was late summer, and because no one was keeping it harvested, the asparagus had gone to seed. But when I returned this year, I was able to locate the exact spot, along with three other small patches in the same vicinity. Now I have my own secret spot. I can have fresh asparagus when I want it, and I no longer have to pay the high prices that the grocery stores charge, which is something worth celebrating.

So if you want to party too, why not start by taking a drive out to a river for a quick search. Or if you live near a section of the Arkansas River Walk, that;s even better; you can search along the walking trails while you exercise and take in nature;s sights. But if you go to the irrigation ditches, beware! The Children of the Asparagus are out there somewhere, and they don’t like strangers on their turf.