How to Identify Puncture Vine (a.k.a. the Goathead Monster)

This post originally appeared on Idaho Botanical Garden’s blog. With the first annual Boise Goathead Fest fast approaching, the purpose of this post is to help people in the Treasure Valley identify goatheads so that they can collect them for drink tokens to use at the event. I’m reposting it here in hopes that people around the globe who are tormented by goatheads might benefit from it. All photos in this post were taken by Anna Lindquist.

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If you have spent much time on a bicycle in Boise, chances are you have been the victim of a goathead-induced flat tire. You probably even got a good look at the spiky nutlet as you went to remove it from your tire. But where did the culprit come from? No doubt, it came from a plant. But which one?

This is particularly useful to know right now because the first annual Boise Goathead Fest is coming up, and if you manage to fill a garbage bag full of these noxious weeds before the end of July, you will earn yourself a drink token. Fortunately, this plant is fairly easy to identify; however, there are a few look-a-likes, so it is important to familiarize yourself with the plant in question so you can be sure you are pulling the right one.

puncture vine (Tribulus terrestris)

Puncture vine, also known as goathead or Tribulus terrestris, is a warm season annual that is native to the Mediterranean region of southern Europe. It was introduced to North America unintentionally by early European settlers when the plant’s blasted burs snuck their way across the ocean in sheep wool. Since then, puncture vine has spread across the continent prolifically thanks to the hitchhiking prowess of its seeds.

Behold, the infamous Goathead Monster.

Puncture vine has a prostrate habit, meaning that its branches lie flat on the ground, spreading outward from a central location. It grows upward only when it is being shaded or crowded out. Its leaves are divided into several tiny leaflets, and its flowers are small and bright yellow with five petals. It is an otherwise pretty plant were it not for the threatening, jagged fruits that follow the flowers. As these fruits dry, they dislodge from the plant, split into five pieces, and lay in wait to puncture your tire, work their way into the bottom of your shoe or the foot of an animal, or latch onto some errant fur.

puncture vine (Tribulus terrestris)

Depending on the conditions, puncture vine either remains fairly small or spreads as much as six feet wide. Fruits start forming shortly after flowering, and seeds ripen soon after that, so if the plant isn’t removed quickly – nutlets and all – future populations are guaranteed. Luckily the plants are fairly easy to remove. Unless the ground is particularly compact, they pull up easily, and if they break off at the root, they generally don’t sprout back.

Virtually any plant that has a prostrate growth habit and is actively growing in the summer could, at first glance, be mistaken for puncture vine. Closer inspection will help confirm the plant’s true identity. Two plants that might confuse you are purslane and spotted spurge. Both of these species can be found growing in full sun in disturbed or neglected sites in close company with puncture vine.

Purslane has tiny, yellow, five-petaled flowers similar to puncture vine; however, its leaves are glossy and succulent-like and its stems and leaves often have a red to purple hue to them. Purslane seeds are miniscule, and while the plant can be a nuisance in a garden bed, it poses no threat to bicycles or wildlife.

purslane (Portulaca oleracea)

Spotted spurge, also known as prostrate spurge, can be quickly distinguished by the milky sap that oozes from its broken stems. Its leaves are generally reddish purple on the undersides with a purple spot on top. Its flowers are minute and its seeds even smaller. Because its sap contains latex and other chemicals, it can irritate the skin and poison creatures that dare eat it.

spotted spurge (Euphorbia maculata)

Both of these plants are introduced, weedy species, so even if they won’t count towards your drink token, it still doesn’t hurt to pull them. Puncture vine, however, is included on Idaho’s noxious weed list, which means it is particularly problematic. So take this opportunity to pull as many as you can, and hopefully we can put a sizeable dent in the population of a plant that has tormented Boise bicyclists for far too long.

See Also: Plant vs. Bike

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On the Genus Euphorbia

This is a guest post. Words and photos by Jeremiah Sandler.

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Suspicion

I collect cacti and succulents. The more I collect plants, the more and more I become interested in taxonomic and phylogenetic relationships between them. Not just my own plants – all of them. Most recently, the genus Euphorbia has been on my mind. My favorite species are E. meloformis var. valida and E. horrida.

I’m mostly familiar with the succulent and cacti-looking euphorbia (they are not true cacti) and a few ornamental annuals. Sometimes I would come across a species that I could determine was a euphorbia; but in trying to identify exactly which species, I found countless possibilities within the genus. It seemed odd to me that a single genus could contain so many different forms.

Turns out, Euphorbia consists of over 1800 separate species. What?! That is an insanely high number! Only about 20 genera of plants contain over 1000 separate species. Euphorbia is the fourth most populated genus among all genera of plants.

That staggering number got me thinking: how can a single genus have so many different species? How has the classification worked that out? Has the genus been phylogenetically examined? There’s no way a genus can be so huge. You know what breeders and collectors can do with that much genetic material in a single genus? The man-made hybrids seem endless.

Euphorbia globosa in bloom

Taxonomy

In older taxonomic practices, morphological similarities were the primary method of grouping individuals together. While that is still a common practice today, phylogenetic testing is now an accessible tool for organizing species into related groups.

Organizations such as the Angiosperm Phylogeny Group (APG) have been doing this advanced scientific research – analyzing DNA, doing detailed dissection, etc. Ultimately, they organize plant taxonomy and systematics with greater detail, and examine plant relationships genetically – phylogenetics.

Analyzing genomes is much more expensive and time consuming than observing morphologies. Now, a mix of methods is used, but DNA sequencing has definitely changed the systematics game in a big way. As a result of the APG’s incorporation of widespread phylogenetic DNA analyses, their taxonomical classifications are quickly becoming the generally accepted classifications among plant taxonomists.

Since the inclusion of genetic testing, many plant orders, families, and genera have been reorganized, renamed, expanded, or shrunk.

Euphorbia

One of the identifying features of euphorbias are their very unique flowers. All species in the genus have a cyathium, an inflorescence exclusively produced by euphorbias. Lacking in true petals, sepals, or nectaries, monoecious euphorbia flowers possess only the most essential parts of reproduction. However, bracts, extra-floral nectaries, and other structures surrounding the reproductive parts of the flowers make them appear superficially different.

It would be very time consuming to sequence the DNA of every member of this genus to see where they all fit. Approximately 10% of the euphorbias have been phylogenetically examined, and they confirm the traditional morphological placement. How about that?

Interestingly, of the species genetically analyzed, some were subsequently placed into the genus Euphorbia after historically being considered members of other genera.

Euphorbia horrida and Euphorbia obesa

So? What’s that mean?

Species within the same genus when crossed can (but not always) produce viable offspring. Sometimes they don’t because of differences in pollinators, flowering times, or geographic location, which prevents hybridization. Clades within plant genera also can affect intra-genus reproduction. For example, hard maples won’t naturally hybridize with soft maples, despite both being in the genus Acer. Perhaps the case is similar between the groups within Euphorbia.

As a plant collector and cacti and succulent enthusiast, imagining the endless amounts of hybrids within a massive genus is a fancy idea to me. The APG’s confirming of the initial classifications of Euphorbia into a massive genus makes the idea of endless hybrids all the more real.

Additional guest posts by Jeremiah Sandler:

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Jeremiah Sandler lives in southeast Michigan, has a degree in horticultural sciences, and is an ISA certified arborist. Follow him on Instagram: @j.deepsea