We recently obtained almost 2,000 baby plants from the Coeur d’Alene Forest Service nursery (see my co-interns blog about our experience there!), all of them bright and bushy tailed with green leaves and even a few flowers! These native plants are special because their source was known and local to Southeast Idaho. This is an important feature because it greatly increases each individual plants chance of surviving, once placed in their ‘home’ habitat, and reproducing successfully because of local adaptations they contain. Our goal for these kid plants was to establish them down on the Curlew National Grassland as part of a stream bank and habitat restoration initiative. Because all of them are perennials, if we get them into the ground before the first frost they will die back this winter and be ready to roll next spring! In one overcast and windy day, we planted over half of them within and above the floodplain of Deep Creek on the Curlew. Volunteer master naturalists, citizens, and other Forest Service and NRCS employees came out to help. Shovels were flying, compost was distributed, and plugs were pressed into the ground. We were rewarded with a lunch of hot, homemade chili (made by our wonderful mentor) and then wrapped up the day by putting a layer of mulch around each plant, to tuck them in and discourage weeds from popping up.

We still had a handful of plugs after the Curlew planting effort so our mentor took some to local National Forest District offices to establish native plant displays and then we took the rest to a Juniper treatment area (where removal of Juniper trees occur in order to stop their excessive encroachment on meadows and shrub-lands). The piles of branches and twigs had been burned, leaving sooty circles of bare ground. Our mentor was interested in planting some of the native forbs in these bare areas to asses growth and reproduction potential over the years and to help establish pollinator habitat within the meadow itself. Our team of three (myself, my co-intern, and our mentor) quickly got to work digging, composting, and planting in the circles of dark soil and ash; the ‘forb islands’ we created sites of promising green. . At the end of the day we counted the plugs that remained-we had given all but 200 plants a home in the ground!

Our plan is to store the plugs securely over this weekend and then spread them in more areas that need some native plant TLC over the Forest the following week-we may even be able to donate some to a local University in order to help them in their effort to become a pollinator friendly campus!

I have to be honest, before this week, I had never been a part of such an extensive planting initiative. I learned that it is hard work that feels good and rewards you with a lovely visual of fresh green on the landscape and the knowledge that the baby plants are happy and at home, ready to grow and soak up the sun come springtime.

The last week of September was cold but sunny. Up in the mountains, the wind tore through us and I was glad I had thought to bring my fleece jacket. But what really kept me warm was the anticipation; that day, we were to take horses down a mountain trail. It was something people come to Wyoming and spend a hundred dollars to do, and yet here I was, getting paid to ride a horse all day. I was elated: bucket list item completed and I hadn’t lifted a finger to set it up. My supervisor had arranged the whole thing with someone in the office who owned horses, and all I needed to do was be there, ready to jump off my horse and pound in signposts.

My horse that day was named Lassie. She was a beautiful brown mare who immediately gave me the side eye before turning her back on me, unimpressed. But after I brushed her down she seemed slightly less disdainful of my presence, and consented to some groundwork bonding of my having her run in a circle. Then we loaded up the horses: two were to be ridden and the third was to carry the posts and pounder in a crazy looking saddlebag setup. Everything and everyone secured, we began our day.

While I had taken horseback riding lessons as a child and had a few experiences riding horses since then, the day had a steep learning curve. Lassie especially liked running me into low-hanging tree branches to see if I would fall off (which, despite being routinely stabbed and gaining quite a few twigs in my hair, I managed to avoid). Generally, we would ride until we either found an old trail post that needed to be replaced, or until we reach an ideal location for a new carsonite post. Carsonites are the brown fiberglass posts to which one attaches stickers or other forms of signage, and are commonly used to designate trails or the boundaries of public lands. We pounded these posts into the ground using our obnoxiously orange and heavy carsonite pounder, which utilized gravity and some human force to drive the carsonite into the ground. But woe to you who chooses a rocky location for your sign – between a carsonite and a rock, the rock wins and you are left with a mangled carsonite that has a small chance of proving reusable. And even more woe to those who touch the carsonite with bare hands while attaching signage, for the fiberglass likes to embed itself in unsuspecting or careless fingers and itches for days after.

The morning moved somewhat slowly. By the time we stopped for lunch, we had fixed or added some 20 carsonites on the trail and entered truly steep and beautiful terrain. After lunch, we began the process of rerouting the later part of the trail, our main goal for the day. But after a few more hours, it became clear that we simply did not have enough signage to complete this task, making it so next year’s CLM intern will also be able to have a wonderful day of horses and trails and signs to look forward to. When we turned around, I switched places with my supervisor, who had been hiking ahead and scouting out spots for signage. Hiking back up the many hills we had covered, it hit me just how impressive horses are, with their ability to travel long distances with great weights on their backs and not really break a sweat, whereas I was dying be the bottom of the fourth hill. But the vigorous hike was an essential break for my aching body, so I couldn’t complain.

By the time we returned to the trail head the light was starting to fail. We had achieved much of our task, but it had taken longer than anticipated. Driving back to the office, I knew that although my body would not thank me the next morning for the 6+ horse I had spent on a horse, it was completely worth it. Not many people get to have such adventures on a work day and I know myself to be extremely lucky. Although the workday ended up being 13 hours, it was an awesome experience that I will always remember as being a highlight of my time in Wyoming.

-Buffalo BLM Rec Intern

For the first week of September, my work brought me to the Mountain City and Ruby Mountain Districts in the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest. These districts of the forest burned significantly last year, so we were sent to identify the plants that were coming back to assess how plant communities are responding post-disturbance. Additionally, we were supposed to make seed collections on certain target species if there were ideal populations. Collections made from healthy populations in post-burn areas are most ideal because the population is more likely to grow in areas with the same seed zones after a burn.

For the first few days of our hitch, we cam[ed at Wild Horse Reservoir and scouted the Mountain City District of the Humboldt-Toiyabe forest. We were able to make collections for Phacelia hastata and Macaeranthera canescans before storm clouds began to form on the second day. We were fortunate to make two collections before the storms because afterwards all of the seeds from populations were completely gone.

Exploring the burned areas was educational, yet devastating at the same time. We noticed significantly eroded hillslopes and disturbed sites as a result of the burn. The loss of plant communities as a result of the burn made the hillslope exceptionally erosion-prone, especially after a wet winter and spring in the following season. Many forest roads were damaged from the erosion, making scouting in the area very difficult for my field partner and I. While in the Mountain City District, we found ourselves on a road that became increasingly narrow as it hugged the highly eroded banks of a creek. Traveling took much longer than we anticipated because of the large amount of debris and dead trees alongside the road. As we slowly approached sunset, we were eager to get out and onto the highway to get back to our camp. Soon we hit a private fence that blocked the road leading to the highway. Nervous to travel onto someone’s property, we tried the other roads that diverged from the ones we were on because they seemed like they might lead us around the property to get back onto the highway. We tried all of these roads only to find that they all lead back to a fence from the private property. The sun was now setting and we were running out of options, we were to either ask for permission to pass through on the property or turn around and take the road back (which would take several hours into the nighttime). We decided to ask for permission once we made it to the second fence. As we came up to the property, a friendly older man came out of the house and jokingly said, “Gosh I am so sorry girls! I saw you about an hour ago coming up to the fence. I should have told ya right there and then to come on through! Of course, you can pass on through!”

He was so kind and offered to give us a ride back to our truck on his UTV. As he drove us back to our truck, his grandsons wearing cowboy boots and pajamas ran with the UTV. We thanked them for the ride and allowing us to pass on through and they all said, “Anytime! Please, anytime you need to get past.” Happy to have had such a positive interaction with the rancher, my field partner and I hastily got the truck started. As we drove off, the young boys chased after our truck screaming “Wait! You guys have a flat!” We looked at the sun setting over the mountains and then jumped out of the truck to change our flat. Luckily, the rancher and his grandkids helped us change our flat tire and we were able to get back on the road in less than thirty minutes. While we changed the flat tire we must have been swarmed by mosquitos the entire time!

Soon we were able to be on our way again and thanked the family for helping us that night. We drove in the night back to our campsite and made it back just in time before the torrential downpour and lightning strikes begain. It rained that evening until 6 am in the morning! However frightening, we woke up to the most beautiful sunrise in the morning.

My time in Carlsbad is quickly drawing to a close. I decided to take a break from packing to take a minute to reflect on the five months I’ve spent here…

There’s a hill on the north side of town with a gravel trail I frequent. This morning I decided to visit once more before I depart. The weather’s been atypical. Dreary, cold, and hardly a glimpse of the sun. The last time I had visited this trail, the mariola hadn’t quite started blooming. Today, the hillside was covered in a blanket of creamy composite flowers with a fragrance unlike anything else. Every so often, a dayflower would fight for pollinator attention with its striking azure flowers.

While I’m relieved to be returning home to my loved ones, I realized this place and the work I’ve done here have left a profound mark on me. I have learned so much from my coworkers, my mentor, and the landscape. I can only hope I’ve left a similarly positive impression on this place.

This season has been one of the shortest chapters in my life, but I believe it has also been the most profound.

I would encourage people to take some time to explore the land should they ever find themselves in the Desert Southwest. While the climate can be less welcoming than the forests found in other parts of the region, this area has its own distinct beauty. The richness of life and colorful essence of the land will move anyone who stops to take it in.

My time here was not without challenges, but I suspect that element persists wherever one ends up. I am excited to take all the knowledge and experiences with me as I continue this journey. I’m also happy to proclaim my love of plants has not wavered. It has grown exponentially since my arrival in Carlsbad. Furthermore, I’ve come to the conclusion people who don’t like plants can’t be trusted… But that’s a different soapbox.

To anyone thinking about applying for CLM, I would say this: It won’t be easy. The work conditions and expectations will test your limits. However, this work is some of the most rewarding work I’ve done, and the connections I’ve made with people and landscapes will remain with me for a long time. I can’t think of a better opportunity to learn and grow. I’m deeply grateful to have had this opportunity with CLM.

The Dodge

            The white pickup truck thunders North on hwy. 789. It turns West on a dirt truck, bucking over bumps, rocks and ruts. The track turns Northwest, but the truck turns West on to a new smaller, rougher track. It reaches another fork and stops. At the fork is a sign:

“<- No Public Access ->”

The truck hesitates, uncertain, debates internally, and then turns around and goes back the way it came.

            The truck comes upon a small cluster of pine trees, surrounded by the rolling sagebrush steppe. The truck slows down, a window opens for a better look, then it stops. The doors open and people pile out. We walk around the trees and search the branches for raptor nests.

            Another truck pulls up- it stops- a man gets out. He says that he’s looking for horses (a close evolutionary ancestor of trucks). He leaves.

We find an owl in one of the trees; but we don’t see a nest.

The truck returns to the highway and flies back South. It comes upon a green truck also driving south. The green truck is labeled “Game and Fish”. The green truck flashes its lights and then pulls over to chase some pronghorn, stuck in a barbed wire fence.

Did you know that Pronghorn antelope can attain a top speed close to 60 miles per hour?

It’s a fact.

Pronghorn evolved this incredible speed in order to outrun one of their predators, the North American Cheetah. North American Cheetahs went extinct towards the end of Pleistocene. While antelope have retained their incredible speeds, they are useless against their new modern predators: the internal combustion engine, and the barbed wire fence.

Antelope regularly attempt to race and elude fast moving vehicles; the vehicles often win, but unlike the cheetahs are unable to digest pronghorn (at least for a few million more years).

Pronghorn aren’t good at getting through traditional barbed wire fences. The countless miles of fence out here hinder their migration. Wildlife friendly fences with a higher smooth bottom wire help to mitigate this problem. Marking fences with black and white plastic clips make fences more visible to sage grouse which might otherwise fly into them.

Trucks use gates to cross fences.

Cheers

Zeke Zelman

SOS- intern Rawlins, WY.

It’s officially my last day here in Wyoming and it feels somewhat surreal. I didn’t realize how quickly the summer was passing until the warm weather had already come and gone. I’m sad to go, but I am leaving just in time to avoid the first snowfall of the year that is expected on Monday. While leaving is very bittersweet, I attribute the fast pace of time to the amazing experiences I had and the beautiful people that I shared these experiences with.

Worthen Meadow Reservoir

During my time at the Lander Field Office, I have grown in many ways. I have had the opportunities to work with people from many different sectors of conservation and learned from each and every one of them. Everyone has a rich amount of knowledge and a unique viewpoint to go along with it.

Personally, I have become a more independent person while being out here. I lived alone for the first time in my life and have had so much time to reflect on my own wants and needs in life. I’ve become more bold when it comes to speaking up for myself and asking questions.

I have also conquered many personal fears that I had about working outdoors in secluded areas. Growing up in the city, the most “extreme” wildlife I could encounter was the occasional coyote in the backyard. I was definitely worried about threats such as bears and rattlesnakes before coming out here because this was all new territory for me. But with encouragement and support, I was able to adapt to my new surroundings and feel extremely comfortable towards the end.

Professionally, I’ve acquired numerous new skills and improved existing ones. I’ve become proficient in ArcMap/GIS and the use of a Trimble GPS in the field. I’ve learned how to maneuver treacherous two-track roads in a large truck and how to properly mount herbarium specimens. And I’ve also improved my knowledge of plant terminology and gotten better and using a dichotomous key for identification.

The most rewarding experience I had out here was getting to see the rare and endangered species, Yermo xanthocephalus, because this species only exists in two small populations in Fremont County, WY. It was very special getting to see a site that 99% of people will never see in their lifetime.

We also had several “AHA” moments throughout the season. Most of them involved trying to locate plant populations or determine when seeds were fully mature. It was frustrating having to return to locations several different times to check up on the plants, but it paid off in the end.

I am so proud of all that I’ve achieved this summer.  My partner and I surpassed our goal of 20 collections and ended the season with 27.  All of these collections contained a surplus of seeds so that some will go to long term storage and others will be used in restoration projects.  It’s so rewarding knowing that all of our work is going to such a great cause.

I am extremely grateful to have been chosen for this experience.  As I turn the page into the next chapter of my life, I don’t quite know what’s in store for me.  But I do know that I am better prepared to take on the next set of challenges with all of the skills I’ve acquired and the friendships I’ve made.

Best wishes to the next set of interns.  You are in good hands!

Maggie

Blue Ridge Fire Lookout, Shoshone National Forest

Something about nature, specifically wildlife, has always captivated me. Even as a child, I would rather play with plastic animals than trucks, or action figures. At the age of 29, playing with toys has lost it’s appeal, but over the years I have learned to express my affinity for the natural world in other ways. Just being out in nature isn’t enough. I feel the desire to capture my findings through photography, drawing, and occasionally painting. I’m unsure why I find the urge to express myself in this way. Maybe it’s just how I most readily connect with the world around me, and share feelings with people that I am unable to articulate. But sometimes, I don’t feel the explicit desire to share with other people. I’m content with enjoying the solo process of discovering interesting subject matter, capturing it, and possibly manipulating it or combining certain elements to create something new, or visually surreal. On the other hand, I do enjoy sharing the finished product with other people. Making other people feel something positive and tangible through my art makes me feel connected to them. Sometimes I wonder if I would have any drive to create art if I could not share it with others. After all, what is the point of life besides connecting with others. Creating and maintaining meaningful relationships is a hallmark of humanity.

Anyway, I’d like to share a piece of Wyoming inspired art and the process of creation. When I draw, it is very time consuming. Because of that, I have only completed one drawing in the almost four months that I’ve been in Lander, Wyoming. Getting the form down is definitely the most difficult part for me. There’s plenty of erasing involved. Sometimes I will realize that something is out of proportion when I’m too far along to fix it. Oh well…maybe that makes it more interesting. Over the past few years I’ve started by drawing the outlines in pencil. Once I’m satisfied with the form, I will trace it with ink, erase the pencil, then use primarily ink to fill everything in. Even though using ink can be painstakingly slow, I enjoy the challenge of it. I like how the darkness of ink makes it easy to develop contrast in a drawing, and something about the permanence of ink is inherently satisfying. Once I’m at the point that I can start shading, I’m able to relax. The process becomes meditative and my mind becomes free to listen to music, learn something from a podcast, or just wander.

When possible, I enjoy using photos that I have taken myself as references when drawing (I really struggle at creating something from nothing, or drawing with no reference). In my latest drawing, I was able to merge a few photos I’ve taken to create something slightly abstract. I usually don’t find any deep meaning, or strong symbolism in my work, and I feel the same about this piece. I just took one charismatic animal that I’ve encountered in Wyoming and combined it with an equally attention garnering plant. My inspiration started with the only decent photo of an elk that I’ve taken so far. I knew I wanted that elk to form the foundation of the drawing. Next, I looked through photos I had taken of Castilleja (one species of this genus is the Wyoming state flower) and found growth forms that I liked. I drew the Castilleja to look as if they are growing out of the elk’s antlers…and one on the back just to kind of balance things out. After drawing the plant on the back, I got the idea to display the root structure of the plant. I liked what the strong, yet crooked, imperfect lines of the roots brought to the drawing. When I was done with all of the shading I still felt like something was missing. Several elements of the drawing had an ethereal feel to me; obviously, the plants growing out of the animal and the abstract root structure. But in addition to that, it looked almost as if the elk was smiling and there was a slight shimmer in it’s eye. I had the urge to make it more vibrant, but not in a totally rationale way. I added a lot of patterned, vibrant color to give it kind of a psychedelic feel. Maybe I implicitly created something that demonstrates the ecological connections present in nature, since elk do eat Castilleja…not sure what the colors mean though. I just wanted to make something that is visually loud and interesting.

I learned and did so many interesting things during my time in Klamath Falls. Some things I expected to learn, like new field techniques and endangered species protocols; others I did not, like how the public perceives government work.

I’ve grown pretty attached to the less-loved fish (like suckers, see left, sucker spp. young of the year), even though in the end I think I spent more time working with trout. Still, there were so many species to study (and to stumble upon in passing). I’ve added quite a few to my life list, some that I never even knew existed.

This was a great first experience in long-term fieldwork. I can’t say I loved every second of it, because waking up at 2 am is hard, getting eaten alive by mosquitos, and lugging heavy equipment in the hot sun is hard, but it was great nonetheless. The work may have been hard, but it meant something, and work worth doing hardly feels like work at all. We participated in so many projects: bat surveys, vegetation surveys, electrofishing, snorkel surveys, larval collection and rearing, stream surveys, mussel salvages, fish geometric morphometric analysis, wolf management projects, wolf monitoring projects. I’m sure I’m forgetting some. They kept us busy.

The staff in Klamath Falls were the best. Everyone had something to teach us. Everyone had a different story about how they ended up in conservation and some wisdom to go with it. I’m glad that working with Klamath Falls Fish and Wildlife could become part of my conservation story. In short, I’m so glad I decided to make the move to a small high desert town in south-central Oregon. I’m so thankful to everyone I met and worked with in Klamath Falls as well as the staff of the Chicago Botanic Garden. In the words of Douglas Adams, “So long, and thanks for all the fish.” I fully expect to keep chasing animals (in a respectful way) on and off the job. Here’s some assorted pictures:

Signing off,

Brianne Nguyen
Klamath Falls Fish and Wildlife Office

At the beginning of this month I started my new job at the Bend Seed Extractory and casually moved across the country to Bend, Oregon.

I have never been to the west coast before and was finishing up another internship in Pennsylvania when I was offered the opportunity to move to Oregon and start working at the Seed Extractory starting early September. I immediately said, yes.

Originally, there were a lot of logistics that I didn’t think through before initially accepting this position (such as finding housing and having a car). However, as I began to plan everything started to fall into place- shipped my car (this is pricey, yes), and found a dope girl on Craigslist to live with (craigslist can be weird but once you weed through the weirdos its rather helpful).

Anyway, the west coast has exceeded my expectations. It is BEAUTIFUL. I am originally from Virginia and accustomed to the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Cascades are a entirely different breed of mountain. In addition, I am extremely grateful to have been placed in Bend. This town is amazing! It’s full of hikes, climbing, breweries, and farmers markets that are essentially festivals.

Here’s a pic of me enjoying Black Butte (one of the many hikes Bend has to offer).

Another thing that I wasn’t completely prepared for when I moved here is how intensely different the vegetation is! There are about negative deciduous trees here and everything is a shrub (still beautiful though and let’s remember Bend is essentially a desert). However, I am enjoying learning to identify all the new evergreens in the area, as in VA we have about three options to pick from when there’s a conifer around.

Here’s a picture of a Ponderosa Pine that I can’t figure out how to rotate! (these babies are everywhere and the bark is so cool!!- sorry Im kind of a tree geek)

Anyway, figure I should talk about my new job a bit too and the reason I actually moved to Bend, but instead, I’ll leave you with a picture of the first seed I processed at the extractory and leave you on the edge of your seat to hear all about it next month!

xoxo

Adventures in the Chihuahuan Desert have exposed me to some bizarre organisms… At least, they seem that way initially. The harsh conditions require remarkable adaptations that call to attention the tenacity of life.

Recent encounters with some perils of this ecosystem have bequeathed me with strength and a tenacity reminiscent of a truly spectacular angiosperm.

Koeberlinia spinosa, a native to harsh climates in the Southwestern US and Mexico with unrelenting spines but delicate flowers, permits pollinator passage. While the plant can bear leaves, photosynthesis is carried out in young stems and thorns most prominently. Some might consider this ~3m tall shrub unsightly and unwelcoming. I, however, have come to recognize it as the ingenuity and strength needed for survival in a challenging environment.

In the same way this plant has a strategy for not being eaten and avoiding desiccation, one must adapt in order to thrive in life’s many challenges. This internship has introduced me to many obstacles I had to overcome using creativity, bravery, and teamwork. While these solutions may not come naturally and can seem a little awkward, they each have a unique beauty far more impressive than anything armed with delicateness alone.

It is in such a way I hope to continue addressing obstacles as I navigate life. I owe a lot to this internship and this place for giving me this experience. And I am particularly indebted to the plants, animals, and landscapes that have served as a canvas on which I could learn these valuable lessons. Without them, this story would have no color.