cf Solorina spongiosa

San Bernardino grass of Parnassus (Parnassia cirrata var. cirrata, white flowers) on a rocky ledge on the Frontcountry RD

Dwarf checkerbloom (Sidalcea malviflora dolosa) in a meadow in the Santa Ana River valley

We conducted night surveys for arroyo toad at the Deep Creek hot springs in late August (my last blog post included a bit about this endangered toad).  The hot springs are good habitat for this species because the warm water excludes non-native trout, which feed on the toads.  A more lurid inhabitant of these hot springs is an ameba called Naegleria fowleri, which enters the human body through the nostrils and can cause a disease called primary amebic meningoencephalitis (PAM).  PAM caused by N. fowleri infection is rare; since 1962, there have been 134 reported cases in the US (CDC).  However, the survival rate from infection by N. fowleri is very low; of those 132 cases, three (2.3%) have survived.   The presence of this ameba doesn’t seem to deter the many people who soak in these hot springs.

One interesting find in the past few weeks was a possible location of Solorina spongiosa, “fringed chocolate chip lichen”.  This lichen has relatively large, brown, sunken apothecia (fruiting bodies), which are surrounded by a distinctive ring of green tissue.  It has a worldwide distribution, but is rare in California.

I’ve been continuing surveys in the Santa Ana River drainage, focusing on areas near roads and streams, and also monitoring older occurrences.  One showy inhabitant of meadows and streams in this area is Sidalcea malvaflora subsp. dolosa (pictured).  We finished the invasive plant guide and will print this fall.

Mountaintop Ranger District

San Bernardino National Forest

I have seen so much spectacular scenery these past few months that it’s almost becoming commonplace; oh, look, it’s just another run-of-the-mill extremely gorgeous view over there. One of the best things about being here is getting to explore all that Montana has to offer, although I wouldn’t even come close if I had a lifetime. I have come to appreciate the plains of central Montana, but on the weekends I like to seek out the enchantment of trees and this past weekend that prompted a visit to the “Bob”. The “Bob” is the nickname for the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex, the second largest wilderness complex in the lower 48 that has been protected for about the past 75 years. It was named after a fascinating wilderness pioneer, Robert Marshall, a forester by trade and adventurer at heart who believed that it should be the right of all people to have access to wilderness and the adventure that comes with it.

Bob Marshall Wilderness, not sure of the mountain’s name

“Adventure, whether physical or mental, implies breaking into unpenetrated ground, venturing beyond the boundary of normal aptitude, extending oneself to the limit of capacity, courageously facing peril. Life without the chance for such exertions would be for many persons a dreary game, scarcely bearable in its horrible banality.” -from, “The Problem of the Wilderness”
Bob is pretty dramatic here, but I did get a taste for the adventure that he’s talking about last weekend and yeah, it was pretty exhilarating. I hiked past blue-green waters of Holland Lake and watched it retreat as I gained elevation and distance from civilization. The trail we took was well traveled and we passed many fellow hikers and mules carrying supplies, so for the most part I didn’t feel as though we were in true wilderness (most of all I felt I didn’t have to worry too much about encountering a grizzly). I also heard a few jets fly overhead, which also took away from the wilderness characteristics of the place.
I finally crossed the border into the wilderness so nicely labeled by a dilapidated sign and immediately the number of people we encountered dropped to zero. Other species of animal were a bit more abundant, though. A few grouse made appearances on the side of the trail and we were visited by a large hoofed creature in the night just inches from the tent who remains unknown because I was too scared to take a look. Rain was the biggest hardship on this trip since most of the other backpacking trips I took this year luckily had been dry. Although I spent several steep, cold miles hiking in water-logged shoes, which was a bit miserable at first, the weather made for some dramatic scenery and the wet shoes became normal. Hidden lakes popped up in rocky canyons, yellow buckwheat and white beargrass added bright contrast to the dark grays and greens, and every summit provided a new view of craggy peaks as clouds constantly veiled and unveiled them. I finally felt truly in the wilderness with the solitude and immense vastness that comes with it.
Back at work that thought reoccurred to me; the feeling of solitude and vastness still imminent. As I worked with a range tech on the hunt to check range improvement projects, we wandered the landscape without catching the glimpse of a single human being, although knowing that they weren’t too far off. I have come to understand the importance of the range specialists’ job here with the BLM, which in essence is finding harmony between humans and the natural world because both are vitally dependent on each other. Because of that most people here work closely with plants even though their official title is not botanist. When we asses rangeland health, the majority of what we monitor is the species of plants because they tell us the story of the land. Finding the harmony between humans and nature is such a difficult yet noble task, although one can argue whether we really are that separate from nature. I have been thinking about whether or not we have an equivalent to the range specialists back east. Possibly forester, but I can’t really compare apples and oranges; I am simply enjoying the fact that I am learning so much about a previously unknown part of my country.

Sapphire Lake in the Bob

Spruce grouse possibly?

Swainson’s Hawk juveniles hanging out

Thanks CLM for a great opportunity to work with the forest service!
My last month has been a whirl wind of new projects away from rare plant surveys. The last project to be put on my plate was setting up transects through different habitat types to measure shrub production and forage in grazing allotments. Its been great getting to be involved in so many different projects starting with rare plant surveys, then moving on to wildlife, soils and finally range. It has been an interesting experience being involved in the Rim fire recovery work and seeing how the forest service is moving forward. Our work surveying for sensitive and rare plants is only the first step in a long process of recovery for the forest. I will continue to follow the progress and hope that the work we did this season will keep the sensitive plant populations growing in the years to come!

-Emily

Since my internship has been extended, I have transferred from the Alturas office to the Surprise Valley office. So far, I like it here. Since Alturas and Surprise are about 30 minutes from each other, I have worked within the Surprise boundary earlier in the season. I have some knowledge of this area, but since it is towards the end of the season, I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do in terms of where things are out in the wilderness.

At the Alturas office, the word on the block was that the interns last year and my mentor did not get along so well. I feel as though I was really able to leave that office with a good reputation and the respect of my former coworkers. This gives me a since of pride in knowing that I did good work, or at least worked to the best of my abilities. In my experience, people notice your mindset and attitude more so than the work you actually do. Not to say be happy everyday and you dont have to work, but if you are learning something new, whether skills, information, or just how to navigate a new area, you are bound to make mistakes and therein lies the importance of coming into work everyday ready to try again and not be negative about your task or abilities.

I do feel like I am living in a whirlwind right now. Many things are happening back home in Ohio with my family while my friends are getting married. Here I am, living in a 14 foot trailer driving around the wilderness where people can’t get a hold of me half the time. During this summer, I also began a move across the country to Oregon and all the planning and communicating that goes into an endeavor like that has become rather distracting. My new home is about 2,500 miles from my old home and also about 315 miles from where I currently work, yet my only internet connection is in the office, so I have to use my time wisely.

All in all, I would say that we have it easy. Back in the day, there would be no emails, no phone calls, and no long weekend drives to check on things. I would be here, family, fiance, friends, would be somewhere else, and it would take a long time to send letters back and forth. I would be down here working and saving my money so I could move my fiance here where we would probably live in my 14 foot trailer and scrape through a cold desert winter. Puts it in perspective a little bit.

Greetings from hot and dry southern Oregon where it seems as if fire season is finally starting to wind down a little bit. Most of the occasional smoke we have now is only from fires in northern California such as the Happy Camp Complex. Personally I think the smoky skies are kind of beautiful and a change of pace in a way.

Here in Medford I’ve been continuing to inspect quarries and mining claims for compliance. Lots of nice views and lots of nice rocks. Other than that, when I have free time I like to work on the rockhounding guide I’ve been working on. I found quite the jackpot a few days ago that was absolutely filled with banded agates and beautiful green and red jasper.

The larger project I’m working on at the moment has to do with the geology of western Oregon for part of the BLM’s Resource Management Plan. Essentially a guide on how to manage resources for the next several years. The areas I’m working on include the Coast Range, Cascades, Willamette Valley, a small part of the Basin and Range and the magnificent Klamath Mountains. These regions all have pretty different geology. Some have natural gas potential or have produced gas in the past, such as the Mist Gas Field north of Portland, while others have and still are producing placer and lode gold, especially down here in Southern Oregon. Writing about the backgrounds of these areas in allowing me to further expand my knowledge of Oregon as a whole as well as really get into writing and office days.

Cheers from the BLM Medford office,

Morgan

Greetings, all.

I suppose I ought to make a “real” post this month and not just a picture of myself looking silly outside. Right now, I’m gearing up for a month or so of more-or-less constant fieldwork doing more rare plant surveys on proposed herbicide treatments for Restore New Mexico, looking for Pediomelum pentaphyllum and Peniocereus greggii. We’ve hired a short-term field crew through the New Mexico Association of Conservation Districts, placing me at least nominally in charge of 9 people. I think we have an excellent crew assembled; the majority even did similar surveys in 2012 and already know what they’re doing! If I’m lucky, they might not notice that I don’t know what I’m doing!

If nothing else, this is an excellent excuse to wander through the desert. You can never have too many of those. Low elevations in New Mexico don’t immediately grab your attention. The tourists (of which there are, generally, not too many) head up to the mountains for the shady cool of pine trees, the occasional stream, and a relative abundance of green and flowers that do not require a microscope. In winter, if we get any precipitation, you can even ski. Personally, I do not ski because the conditions favorable for this activity are generally incompatible with botanizing, but to each their own. However, the low elevations are generally flat, brown, hot, sunny, desolate and, in the words of the immortal Rooster Cogburn, “nothing else grows but has stickers on it”. In my first few years in New Mexico, I viewed it as “drive-through” country–something that must be crossed between me and the mountains. But after a few years I developed an obsession with the flats, driven if nothing else by the simple questions: “Well, where am I? What is out there?” After subtantial investigation: mostly, yes, it is flat, brown, hot, sunny, and desolate. Occasionally, it is cold, green, steep, or cloudy. Rarely, it rains. You might even find interesting plants. If you enjoy solitude and don’t mind a bit of monotony, walking the Chihuahuan Desert offers a kind of sweaty Zen.

Oh, and I have some pictures. First, one of the Restore New Mexico treatments that I scouted the week before last to get a feel for the landscape before we start surveying. The local rancher accompanied me and was baffled by my objectives. “Just seeing what’s out there,” was not on his radar. “Ooh, this spot might have some interesting plants!” was met with, “That’s just a bunch of weeds.” Que sera and whatnot. But the place was wonderful!

Those familiar with southern New Mexico may be looking at that second photo and thinking to themselves, “Wait… is that Bouteloua eriopoda persisting in sandy soil?” Yes, it is! Black grama used to be the dominant plant in somewhat sandy soils at low elevations but has mostly disappeared after grazing (although it can still be abundant in rockier soils).

Onward to the next adventure; I visited The Rim on the west side of the Guadalupe Mountains with Mike Howard. Here’s what it looks like on the drive in (OK, I took the photo on the way out):

About three fifths of the way across the photograph from the left, you can see some gypsum outcrops. As you draw nearer, the gypsum become more obvious:

The pale bits that look like they have no vegetation? That’s the goal. Walk in further:

And you find some small outcrops of gypseous clay intermingled with limestone:

Keep walking.

By this point it feels like your brain is about to melt out through your ears. However, you have arrived!

That gypsum may look desolate, but it is the home of three plants found only on gypsum on the rim of the Gudalupe Mountains: Anulocaulis leiosolenus var. howardii, Nerisyrenia hypercorax, and Mentzelia humilis var. guadalupensis. Nerisyrenia hypercorax was discovered only a year ago, and the paper describing it is in press at Journal of the Botanical Research Institute of Texas. As of yesterday, the paper includes this site! In addition to these three gypsophiles, there were two other rare plants in the area: Nama xylopodum and Dermatophyllum guadalupense.

Also, in the last few weeks I found some more Peniocereus greggii:

And a cute & friendly rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis):

As the other interns have returned back to school I am the only remaining one in the office. I welcome any days out in the field, which are few and far between since our hydrologist just left as well. I have had some exciting opportunities recently, such as going on a 3 day rafting trip with FWS down the Colorado River looking for the endangered Spiranthes diluvialis. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any but I had a great time learning how to raft. Eight river otters began swimming up to us but then a train went by and scared them away! It was pretty annoying that trains continuously rode alongside the river day and night blaring its horn. I wonder what the impacts are on the riparian ecosystem…

I also was able to do another macroinvertebrate survey on West Creek where an oil tanker flipped a few years ago, spilling around 6,000 gallons, I think. At ground zero the stream was filled with algae but appeared to be recovering better downstream. Unfortunately this stream was an important trout hatchery so there are many people, such as Trout Unlimited, invested in its recovery. With fewer field days ahead I’m spending most of time turning NEPA documents into pdfs so they can be published online for the public to see. Pretty boring, but gives me an idea of what working in an office is like. Bring back the outdoors!

Lindsey B.

BLM Grand Junction, CO