This plant was one member of the new population of blowout penstemon we found.

As I approach the end of this internship, I thought now would be a good time to reflect on  new perspectives I’ve gained working here at the Wyoming Natural Diversity Database (the Natural Heritage program for the state). Most of the field work that I’ve been doing this summer has been combing sand dunes searching for Penstemon haydenii, a threatened perennial forb, and Elymus simplex var. luxurians, an endemic grass. Both grow in sand dune habitats, but so far we have not found that their ranges overlap. Spending so much time in one specific habitat has really tuned me on to not just the plants that grow in this type of ecosystem, but also the animals that are here. My mentor and I, in an effort to help out the invertebrate biologist we work with, collected beetles that have never been documented in this part of the state. We also noticed some toads crossing the dunes the morning after a rainstorm. We took pictures and it turns out that these toads are a species of concern as well; the data we took will be valuable for herpetologists here. I have very much enjoyed working with so many knowledgeable biologists who are willing and excited to talk about their areas of expertise and lend a hand in others’ projects when they can. Sand dune environments often harbor species of concern – opening my eyes to the animal species of concern has made this an even richer experience. Although plants are still absolutely the most interesting part of the ecosystem for me, I am seeing the value in being well-rounded. There is so much land out there and so few biologists to cover it, we’ve got to help each other out.

I’ve had an excellent time in this internship and would absolutely recommend this program to anyone interested in getting into the field of botany or natural resources.

Wetland in the middle of sand dunes. The endemic grass we were searching for growing around it.

Spadefoot toad, about to bury itself in the sand.

Elk on the dunes.

Having just completed our perennial data plots last week to characterize community composition and distribution of shrubs in the Ft Irwin area (where the Desert Tortoise is being relocated off expanding army lands), we’ve started a similar study on Mojave Ground Squirrel habitat last week. Although the Mojave Ground Squirrel is an elusive creature (making estimates of population size difficult), it is currently under review to be listed under the Endangered Species Act due to loss of habitat and habitat degradation. This is easy enough for us to understand as we drive through areas in their range which have been decimated due to off-road vehicle use allowing invasives such as Russian Thistle to take over these disturbed sites. Even in such areas rodent holes are prevalent and sometimes make getting to our study plots difficult since one wrong step on top of their intricate underground burrows could lead to one foot buried knee deep in sand. The other day my field partner Heiki stepped accidentely into one of these burrows and ended up with a bewildered Kangeroo Rat riding on his bootlaces for several seconds. No sign of the Mojave Ground Squirrel although they tend to hibernate when food is scarce from August to March. It’s possible that we have seen a few dashing ahead of our vehicles on back roads but since there are so many rodents in the Mojave and since none of us are self proclaimed rodent experts, we have no idea which ones they are. In several weeks we’re camping in Death Valley National Park in order to gather perennial data. Not looking forward to the heat (which may be unbearable mid-August) but I am looking forward to spending some time in this very beautiful and dramatic landscape. We’ll bring lots and lots of water!
Thats all for now.

Cheerio
Nora Talkington

Now at the end of July, the desert moves from lush green to brown and beige, and I’ve been drinking more water every day than I ever have before. Water never tasted so good until I moved here. The dry heat is really what challenges me, but I am slowly seeing myself be able to handle longer days working outside with no problem, and even with pleasure. Seed collecting is somehow really therapeutic and satisfying, and gives me plenty of time to think about how great this job is and to find elk droppings and see badgers and explore the strange geology of the area. My love for the great basin over the past month or so has deepened tremendously.  In a place that, at first, seems so simple and so homogenous, new things keep popping up at us all the time. First of all, this is embarrassing, but I did not know there were badgers in the western united states! Secondly, I had always just thought of grasses as these simple undifferentiated organisms that didn’t have as much personality as other plants. Now, the ones that we see and collect are becoming a whole new world to me, full of grasses that are as cute as bunnies and as beautiful as the redwoods. I am learning so much every day and finally beginning to feel at home in Lake County, OR. Also, time is moving much too fast. Slow down, summer!

Lisa VanTieghem

Lakview BLM

Crack-in-the-Ground

Big Rock in the Middle of Nowhere

“The WUI?”, you ask, “what in the world is that!?”.

It’s the Wildland-Urban Interface, the transition zone between unoccupied land and urban development, an environment unlike any other. Here in northern California, not too far outside Sacramento, the WUI occurs between fire-loving chaparral habitat and multi-million dollar homes. Even after a month here, life along the WUI is full of surprises.

The other day I participated in the monthly Seeds of Success conference call while working in the field. Mid-call I was interrupted by a neighboring landowner wanting to know whether I was there to clear away brush and create fuel breaks to protect his property from wildfire. Although disappointed to hear I was in the area only to collect seeds, he told me of the challenges he faces living alongside native chaparral. He experiences the reality of living next to not only a fire-prone plant community but also the wildlife it supports. In the past month he’s lost two of his beloved emus to the WUI—one to a bobcat and another to a mountain lion.

The adventures continue inside our suburban office. Last week I was roused from my GIS work by an animated colleague’s exclamations. The “Snake Wrangler” had arrived in the El Dorado Hills Business Park.  Just across the street from our office they’d discovered several rattlesnake dens. Office workers gathered to watch the “Snake Wrangler” capture an angry 3 ½ foot rattler. One down, many more to go. With an average of 80-100 snakes caught each week, it should be a snap for our local “Snake Wrangler”. Not to worry though, the snakes aren’t being harmed—just relocated to some nearby Forest Service land with a rodent problem.

Though suburban California initially wasn’t (and admittedly still might not be) my ideal location, living along the WUI proves nearly as exciting as working here. I am minutes from the American River– a mecca for whitewater rafting, cycling, running, and hiking. With Lake Tahoe, Yosemite, San Francisco, and the Pacific Ocean all less than three hours’ drive away it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by everything I want to do! And who can forget the California State Fair happening right now. Anyone up for a maggot burger or deep-fried scorpion?

over and out

Sophia Weinmann, El Dorado Hills, CA

The word monitor derives from the Latin monere “to warn.” As I find myself spending much of my time monitoring rare plants, I reflect on what we’re doing. At its core, I suppose that we are keeping track of these plants so that we can warn everyone if they start to decline. However, we are also watching them in order to celebrate population growth and even population stability, and, more often than not, in order to learn relatively unknown details of their life histories.

In the last couple weeks, the team I’m working with has traveled to an area outside of Kremmling, CO in order to monitor two different plants that only exist within a single Colorado county. Penstemon penlandii has an estimated range of only 5 square miles (NatureServe Explorer), while Astragalus osterhoutii is more widespread, occurring in an estimated 63 square mile area (NatureServe Explorer). Both plants were listed under the ESA when a reservoir was constructed within their range, flooding part of the Astragalus’ habitat and creating concern that an increase in recreation to the area would endanger both species. Further, that Astragalus plants are heavily preyed upon by a native species of blister beetle within part of their range. The plants suck up selenium (a stinky element that occurs in the soil) as a defense against herbivory. Unfortunately for them, the blister beetle has also found selenium to be an effective defense compound, so it eats the plants and stores the selenium. The beetles are immune, but any predators are in for a nasty treat. In fact, ingesting only a few accidental beetles can kill a horse.

Due to this herbivory, the plants in one site seemed to be barely getting by and some were bare sticks, from which all the leaves had been eaten. In our other site, the plants appeared healthy, and in both sites monitoring has shown that the populations are steady. The way that this is possible is because the species is extremely long lived. My mentor did her PhD research on this species, following in the footsteps of someone else who was also studying the population. Yesterday we found one of their old plots. Many of the old tags from the early ‘90s were still in place next to healthy, happy looking individuals. This means that some of these plants (which only grow up to 1 or 2 feet tall) are at least approaching 20 years old. This knowledge is extremely important for managing the population. We now know that it isn’t a crisis if no seed set occurs one year, or if blister beetle herbivory is particularly bad for 5 years. Instead, we simply have to make sure that nothing happens to kill the mature individuals.

I enjoy learning these details about different life histories, and about how a species is adapted for its own unique location and predators. I also appreciate that our data is used to make more informed management decisions. It seems that “to monitor” is in fact much more than simply to warn.

Sama, CO BLM State Office

Calochortus brumeaunis

Lupinus argentus var. argentus

So what does a seed scouting mission look like? Scouting for seeds takes a surprising amount of time and effort, and my technique for doing the scouting is an evolving process. Here’s what it looks like at the moment:
Monday, I went out scouting. I was scouting for two Crepis species, C. acuminata and C. occidentalis, two hours north in the Bodie Hills. At my first stop I found plenty of C. acuminata, and also stopped to key out and collect a specimen of Calochortus brumeaunis. My next stop was further up the highway. I was concentrating of finding Crepis occidentatlis, as I had not seen any sign of it at my first stop. While I did find lots of the other Crepis species that I was looking for, I could not positively identify C. occidentalis. Instead I identify a large population of Lupinus argentus var. argentus, for which I collected a few voucher specimens in case I decide to go back to collect seeds. My last stop was supposed to check out a population of lupine and prickly phlox further into the Bodie Hills. After surviving road construction delays, and bumpy dirt roads, I turned into the pasture through which I had to pass to get to these two dense clumps of plants. About a quarter of the way down the road I found myself at a stream crossing that had not been there the week before when we found the populations. But I had heard stories about people getting stuck at this spot in the mud. I got out of the truck to look at it. It was 18 inches deep. I could go through and have accomplished something with my afternoon, or I could get stuck, and have to call in to get someone to unstick me from the mud. I decided to back up and try to find another population.

Crepis acuminata

The training in Chicago was a welcome change from the desert, and it was a lot of fun to meet the other CLM interns and hear about their experiences.

Giant Allium

In addition to the important things we talked about, like working for federal agencies and more about the program, it was wonderful to spend some time in the Chicago Botanic Garden!  Very different from the Mojave Desert, with gorgeous and unusual flowers, not to mention the abundance of water, but very enjoyable.

A tarantula hole

Since returning to Nevada, we have worked on perennial plots, mostly in Barstow, CA.  The hiking can be intense in the heat, but we get some amazing views.  Summer is definitely the time for animals to hide, but we still manage to find some lizards and insects.

An old miner's house, maybe?

Old car

We also come across interesting man-made objects, like old cars and abandoned buildings.  In the coming weeks, we will be working on entering all our data from the season, which will be interesting.  Hopefully we can get a little more time outside before we are done!



The high desert district of southwest Wyoming may seem like a barren land, but in reality it is host to a whole cast of interesting critters. While mapping Mountain Plover habitat, our paths were constantly crossed by quick-footed prairie dogs (or p-dogs) and ground squirrels. P-dogs not so anxious to get across the road ahead of us sat on their burrows, Buddha-bellies inflated in front of them. More excitingly, we were lucky enough to spot three Burrowing Owls in, which had taken over two former p-dog abodes. Burrowing Owls take advantage of the many burrows created by p-dogs. Burrowing Owls are shy when approached by humans on foot, but surprisingly remain sentinel by their burrows when approached by trucks, which allowed us some pretty good views and photos. We had an opportunity to learn about other neat owls in Wyoming when we did an owl survey late one clear night during a full moon. We spent that time with members of the Forest Service working in Bridger National Forest. Three sensitive owls live in southwest Wyoming, including the Boreal Owl and the Great Grey Owl. We stood under the stars and broadcasted the calls of these owls from what looked like a small stereo with two speakers in hopes that any nearby owls would return with their own calls. Being late in the season for owl surveys, we were fortunate to hear a Great Horned Owl.

We’ve spent much of our time continuing Mountain Plover habitat mapping–for which we have covered approximately 25,000 acres. We have also participated in Multiple Indicator Monitoring (MIM) to assess stream quality and Proper Functioning Condition (PFC) assessments for streams. During all this time we’ve spotted multiple species of raptors, including the Ferruginous Hawk (a.k.a. ferroog), Red-tailed Hawk, Golden Eagle, Bald Eagle, Kestrel, and Northern Harrier. The nest below is a nest made by a ferroog. They typically build their nests on cliffs or rock ledges. We saw some recent Golden Eagle fledglings, who were taking frequent rests on ridges.

Another disheartening, but enlightening wildlife find would be the multiple dead fawn we have found throughout our travels. Wyoming experienced a particularly harsh winter, and it took its tole on the mule deer population. It has indicated that only 16% of the newborn fawn survived through the winter and spring months. Luckily the mule deer that have survived look hardy and healthy.

The highlight of the last couple weeks would have to be the spotting of the rare light morph Greater Sage Grouse hen and her six poults of normal gray coloration. No one in our field office had seen a sage grouse of such coloration and our photo below was added to the office wall of fame.

-Larry Ashton and Kira Hefty