How did earthworms invade Minnesota?

They aren’t native to the state. And the toothless, wriggly creatures are destroying our forest floors.

The Minnesota Star Tribune
October 18, 2024 at 12:30PM
A major threat to the goblin fern is the invasive earthworms destroying the forest floor that are being spread by anglers improperly dumping bait and movement from ATV tires. ] Brian Peterson ¥ brian.peterson@startribune.com
Invasive earthworms are destroying forest floors across Minnesota. (David Joles/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Listen and subscribe to our podcast: Apple Podcasts | Spotify

Earthworms may be helpful in a compost heap or in the soil of a vegetable garden.

But they are a destructive force in Minnesota’s hardwood forests – chomping up entire layers of the forest floor and making it inhospitable to the plants that thrived here for thousands of years.

Earthworms aren’t native to Minnesota. Every one is an invader.

Bradley Moe, who lives in Breezy Point, became curious about worms after reading an article by the late Minnesota Star Tribune reporter Jennifer Bjorhus about the endangered, “ancient and otherworldly” goblin fern.

Researchers worry the fern could become extinct in the next decade due to the worms’ damaging onslaught.

Only an inch long, the imperiled Goblin Fern emerges from the forest floor like a goblin's hand in the Chippewa National Forest. (Brian Peterson)

Moe wondered about the invasion’s beginnings. He asked Curious Minnesota, the Strib’s reader-powered reporting project: “How did earthworms end up in Minnesota?”

They first likely hitched a ride with European settlers, arriving by boat and sometimes by rail from ports to cities like Minneapolis, according to experts.

But they would not have advanced to remote corners of the state without help from anglers who began using them as live bait nearly a century ago.

“If you just introduced them in Minneapolis, and they moved on their own, around 20 or 30 feet a year, it would take, like, 10,000 years to get to the Boundary Waters,” said Lee Frelich, director of the University of Minnesota Center for Forest Ecology.

Instead they made the trip in decades.

Worms on the move

There are now at least 15 different species of earthworms crawling in Minnesota dirt, according to the state’s Department of Natural Resources. None of them are native to this state or even this part of the globe.

There are some earthworms native to other parts of North America – including the Pacific Northwest and the southeastern United States. But those species didn’t crawl their way here. (It’s likely too harsh for them anyway.)

The earthworms in Minnesota came from Europe and from Asia.

University of Minnesota Ph.D. Student David Chaffin has spent the past two summers counting temperate tree species and the extent of earthworm invasion in the BWCA wilderness. Here, Chaffin holds a juvenile Lumbricus Rubellus, one of the most damaging worm species to the forest floor. ] BRIAN PETERSON • brianp@startribune.com BWCA, MN - 08/16//2013
A University of Minnesota Ph.D. student holds a juvenile Lumbricus Rubellus, one of the most damaging worm species to the forest floor. (The Minnesota Star Tribune)

The first to arrive were European earthworms. Settlers brought them along in the dirt of potted plants – both live worms and eggs that hatched later, said Frelich. St. Paul and Minneapolis were likely the epicenter of that early invasion.

Some ships also used bags of soil as ballast. They then would ditch the dirt – worms and all – in the port where they landed, he said. That included Great Lakes ports such as Duluth.

European earthworms made similar incursions even earlier in New England. But their spread is much more advanced in Minnesota (and nearby states like Wisconsin and Michigan) because of the wide distribution of so many lakes and streams, Frelich said.

That geography compounded the situation when anglers in Minnesota began using worms as bait back in the 1930s.

“People took fishing bait into every remote corner of the state, didn’t use it all and ended up dumping it on the shore, because everybody thought earthworms were good for the environment,” Frelich said.

Introduced near thousands of lakes, the creatures spread out from the shores, covering the state’s entire landscape in just decades.

“I’ve lived in this area all my life, and in the 1960s you could find earthworm-free forests all over the landscape,” Frelich said. “By the 1990s, it was probably less than 10%.”

The worms’ spread is helped along by the tire treads of ATVs and the soles of hiking boots, which pick up earthworm eggs along with mud.

There are just a few earthworm-free places in Minnesota now – including some spots in the Boundary Waters and hillsides on the North Shore.

Kate Hagsten, Plants Director for Leech Lake Band of OjibweÕs Division of Resource Management, surveys an area infested with earthworms that are destroying the forest floor, leaving it almost bare in the Chippewa National Forest.Friday, July 29, 2022  Cass Lake, Minn. The imperiled Goblin fern, a small fungus-like fern clinging to life in the Chippewa National Forest. A major threat is the invasive earthworms destroying the forest floor, being spread by anglers improperly dumping bait and ATV tires. We search for the Goblin fern with Kate Hagsten, Plants Director for Leech Lake Band of OjibweÕs Division of Resource Management    Raining White, invasive species specialist with the Leech Lake tribe, and Bobby Henderson, a field botanist with the USFS out of Deer River.  ] Brian Peterson ¥ brian.peterson@startribune.com
Kate Hagsten, Plants Director for Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe's Division of Resource Management, surveys an area infested with earthworms that are destroying the forest floor, leaving it almost bare in the Chippewa National Forest. (Star Tribune/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Ecological chain reactions

In the 1970s, a scientist in Wisconsin first noticed that soil structure in forests was changing. The top layer of dead leaves, which before had accumulated over centuries, was gone. (Worms find dead leaves to be delicious.)

The worms also change the soil’s density. Native insects such as beetles and centipedes make little tunnels that create a spongy, absorbent soil. When earthworms drill through, the tunnels collapse and the soil becomes compacted.

Trillium flowers bloom along the Superior Hiking Trail. (Brian Peterson)

A few decades later, researchers began to document an ecological chain reaction in the forest: As worms change the soil, native plants like trilliums become less abundant. This leads to soil erosion and leaching of nutrients.

With fewer plants around, deer end up decimating the ones that survive — and soon botanic invaders like buckthorn and garlic mustard move in.

A second invasion

Asian earthworms — often called jumping worms — arrived in Minnesota much later, in the early 2000s. Gardeners ordered them online to add to their compost, and they ended up in backyards.

They, too, can be very damaging to woodlands — and look a little different, with a light-colored band near their head. They also wiggle more than European earthworms, getting their name from the way they seem to jump out of the ground when disturbed.

Frelich first spotted a jumping worm in Minneapolis’ Loring Park in 2006.

This July, the state added them to the list of prohibited invasive species — making it a misdemeanor to “possess, import, purchase, transport or introduce” them without a permit.

Jumping worms are a prohibited invasive species in Minnesota. (Yoshi Katagiri)

The state doesn’t regulate European earthworms in the same way. Still, it is illegal in Minnesota to release most nonnative species into the wild. The DNR encourages anglers to dispose of any unused bait worms in the trash.

These measures aim to stop more worms from being introduced and preserve the few worm-free areas left. But it’s impossible to get rid of the ones that are already here, Frelich said.

Instead, the best ecologists can do is work to re-establish native plants by sowing seeds or planting seedlings. Lowering other stress factors also helps, he said.

Researchers have noticed a difference in areas where wolf populations have returned.

“If you have more wolves, you have fewer deer. And with fewer deer, you have more plants,” Frelich said. “And the plants are getting a chance. Even trilliums are recovering in areas with wolf packs in Wisconsin.”

If you’d like to submit a Curious Minnesota question, fill out the form below:

Read more Curious Minnesota stories:

about the writer

about the writer

Erica Pearson

Reporter

Erica Pearson is a reporter and editor at the Star Tribune.

See More