![]() NPS/Hannah Schwalbe You don’t have to search far to find a botanical marvel in Joshua Tree National Park. Known scientifically as Larrea tridentata and more commonly as the creosote bush, this hardy shrub is an unmissable part of the park’s southern landscape. In spring and summer, its small yellow flowers dot the desert with bursts of color; but what truly captures attention is its unmistakable scent. When summer rain hits the desert floor, the creosote bush comes alive, releasing a rich, earthy fragrance that has become synonymous with the scent of the desert. Dominating the DesertThe creosote bush is more than common, it’s often dominant. It thrives across the deserts of southwestern North America and defines much of the lower elevation landscape in Joshua Tree. Its closest botanical cousin lives far to the south, in the dry regions of Argentina. But while it may appear uniform, not all creosote bushes are genetically identical. What scientists once thought was a single species is actually three distinct forms, each with a different chromosome count:
This type of genetic variation, known as polyploidy; is not uncommon in the plant world. In the case of creosote, this chromosome expansion may have helped it adapt to regions with less summer rainfall—like the Mojave. A Newcomer with Ancient RootsDespite its dominance, the Mojave creosote bush is a relatively recent arrival to this part of California. Fossil and genetic evidence suggest it migrated northward from the Sonoran Desert roughly 11,000 to 12,000 years ago, after the end of the last Ice Age. Back then, Joshua Tree’s landscape looked very different; more grass, more juniper. As the climate warmed and dried, junipers retreated into the mountains, and the creosote bush took center stage. It quickly proved its toughness, thriving where few other plants could. A Slow and Steady GrowerThough creosote bushes produce many fuzzy seeds with each bloom, few successfully sprout. Germination is rare, and recovery from disturbance is slow. Even a creosote plant just one foot tall may already be ten years old. Their unique growth pattern gives them their upside-down cone shape, with branches sprouting outward and upward from a central crown, sometimes reaching heights of six feet. As time passes (30 to 90 years), older branches die off and the crown splits. The plant then becomes a clone—a circle of independent stem crowns, all descended from a single seed. ![]() NPS/Hannah Schwalbe The Legend of King CloneAs you explore the park, keep an eye out for large circular creosote formations. They may appear as rings or mounds in the sand, hinting at ancient roots. Near Lucerne Valley, you’ll find one of the most remarkable examples: King Clone
Radiocarbon dating and known growth rates suggest this plant has been alive since the end of the Ice Age—making it one of the oldest living organisms on Earth. These rings tell a story of quiet, enduring life stretching across millennia. Shelter and Sustenance in the DesertCreosote bushes aren’t just survivors, they’re providers. Countless desert animals rely on them for food and shelter. Their dense structure offers protection from predators and shade from the harsh sun. Look closely, and you might spot:
They are truly an anchor of the desert ecosystem. Nature’s Medicine CabinetFor centuries, Indigenous peoples of the Southwest have recognized the medicinal properties of creosote. Tribes such as the Cahuilla, Apache, and others used its leaves in various ways to treat a wide range of ailments. The leaves were chewed to relieve diarrhea, brewed into teas to help with colds and kidney pain, and applied topically to soothe bruises and wounds. Today, some herbalists still use creosote extracts, and studies have explored its potential in treating herpes and even in cancer research. However, caution is necessary, as consuming large doses may lead to liver damage. The Soul of the DesertThe creosote bush is more than just a hardy plant; it’s a symbol of survival, an anchor of the desert, and one of the longest-living organisms on Earth. Withstanding fire, drought, time, and even us, it remains season after season, year after year. The next time you’re in Joshua Tree, breathe in the unique scent after a desert rain, and know you’re sharing space with something ancient, essential and deeply woven into the story of this land. |
Last updated: April 7, 2025