Over the last couple of days, my fellow interns and I hand collected roughly 65,000 juniper cones for our first seed collections for SOS, so that was cool.

In other news, I had the opportunity to substitute the Chicago Botanic Garden workshop with a Wilderness First Responder course, which just concluded last week. The training was wonderful and I now feel better prepared to handle various medical situations in the back country.

We made the most of our free time in Mt. Shasta, California after our WFR course ended each day. We scaled a mountain with breathtaking views, explored the gorgeous Lake Siskiyou, and gallivanted to a waterfall with incredible force and power.

Black Butte Lookout

Lake Siskiyou

McCloud Falls

Other than that, we have been waiting for the field season to start here in Carson City, and it’s finally arrived. I’m sure there will be more to talk about in my next blog post.

P.S. Remember everyone, when administering your chest compressions during CPR, pump to the beat of “Don’t stop, believing. Hold on to that feeeeeeeling”.

Jason Fibel – Carson City District Office – BLM

My first three weeks as an Oregonian have come to an end! I am a first time intern for the CLM and am currently working in Grant’s Pass, OR as a botany crew intern. Our main focus has been to survey and monitor rare plant species in the South Western region of Oregon as well as removing invasive plant species. Grant’s Pass is located next to the Rogue River which is frequented by many rafters during the summer and the area we work in is mainly referred to as the Rogue River Valley. Many days have consisted of scouring riparian areas for an invasive weed called Dyer’s Woad, Isatis tinctoria, then mapping these areas for future years to continue the work of removing this pesky weed.

Beautiful view of the Rogue River Valley

One of the two federally endangered rare plants we survey and monitor is Fritillaria gentneri, a member of the Lily family, Liliaceae. Such a beautiful plant!

J. Herbert Stone Nursery in the Rogue Valley – large planting of Delphinium menziesii

Thus far, Oregon has been kind to me with mostly sunny days and stunning views. I am very happy to have chosen Oregon for my internship season and wouldn’t want to be anywhere else!

Views of Upper Klamath Lake from atop Moore Mountain.

I floated along a ridgetop trail, dancing over rocks through the mixed juniper forest. A bite in the chilly spring air heightened my senses as I ran. My eyes wandered up from the dirt under my feet to the north, where a massive lake nestled amongst ridges glimmered softly in the low-lying evening sun. A quick turn of the trail revealed a tree-studded urban landscape fading quickly to sprawling farmland in the valley below. The basin was penned in by low-lying mountains, accented by the volcanic cone of Mount Shasta glowing a brilliant golden-white in the distance. As I ran to the summit of Moore Mountain, I had a fantastic vantage point from which to survey the Klamath basin, the area that I would call home for the next six months.

It has now been a month since I moved to Klamath Falls, Oregon and went on that first glorious trail run. It seems to be a trend for CLM interns to note how “time flies,” and I concede that I am experiencing the same phenomenon. My initial impression of the area has also held true: the Klamath Basin is wonderfully beautiful. I was lucky enough to be placed here to work with the US Fish and Wildlife Service. Most of my work (and the work of fellow CLM intern Marissa) revolves around two endangered sucker species, though we’ll also dabble in the realms of wolves, bald eagles, butterflies, and frogs. When I am not working, I am usually running up, down, and around all of the fantastic trails accessible from town.

Marissa and James pulling in trammel nets on Lake Ewauna as four pelicans pass by.

Hand-over-hand, Marissa and I pulled in the first of eight 100-meter long trammel nets into the boat. The soaking net comes in haphazardly as we repeatedly stop hauling to pick sticks, rocks, logs, and by-catch out of the net. The sun creeps higher in the sky, eventually surmounting a ridge lying to the west. I wish I could say the warmth of the sun landed on our skin as we basked on the deck of the boat, but aside from our faces it only warmed our waders, jackets, gloves, and hats. It was cold, but we had it easy. Brock and James, from the Bureau of Reclamation, had been out in the sub-freezing temperatures at 5:00am setting the nets. Marissa and I certainly get the quite long end of the proverbial stick on that one. With each net that comes aboard the boat, we continue to release any assortment of blue chubs, brown bullheads, and net-eating logs back into the cold waters of Lake Ewauna. We pull, and the white grid work of net comes shimmering out of the water foot-by-foot. A later we feel more resistance, and up comes a two-foot long dark object. “Sucker!” I yell as Brock hustles over to help remove the endangered fish from the tangle of nylon. The fish is swiftly put in a holding tank, and we resume our constant pulling. The work may be repetitive, but luckily for Marissa and I, Brock and James are superb company. Brock and James teach us about the myriad of water bodies nearby – Upper Klamath Lake, the Link River, the Klamath River, the Williamson River (to name a few)-, the Klamath Reclamation Project, and the biology of the basin. After two hours, our noble team of four arrives back at the dock and we work up our one lone sucker. We process the fish and note length, sex, presence of parasites or lesions, and tag it with a PIT tag before moving the sucker into a waiting transportation tank. With any luck, this old fish will successfully reproduce after being released north of Lake Ewauna into the breeding grounds of the Williamson River.

Marissa and I processing juvenile fish at “Gone Fishing,” the Fish and Wildlife Service’s sucker hatchery.

The Lost River and shortnose suckers were listed as endangered nearly 30 years ago, in 1988. Prior to and after being listed, both species have faced habitat, water quality, and recruitment issues. The Fish and Wildlife Service here in Klamath Falls continues to battle ahead, working with other government agencies, nonprofits, and the public to help recover the two formerly abundant sucker species. In addition to relocating adult suckers from Lake Ewauna to the Williamson River, Marissa and I have also spent time at the Fish and Wildlife Service hatchery program, affectionately known as “Gone Fishing.” At this outdoor facility, juvenile suckers are raised into sub-adults that will have a better shot at surviving when released into the wild. While measuring and weighing hundreds of these fish is a great opportunity to get our hands on the animals we are protecting, the real fun came when a number of us from the office released nearly 800 young suckers back into Upper Klamath Lake. The morning of the release was cold, but the beauty of the lake and excitement in doing a release made up for the slight discomfort.

Releasing juvenile suckers in Shoalwater Bay on the Upper Klamath Lake.

Marissa and I are enjoying our time settling in to life in Klamath Falls. In our free time, we both adore sampling the surprisingly large amount of food trucks in town and delving into rural Oregon’s finest cuisine. Hands down, my favorite Klamath Falls locale is the Waffle Hut, a total dive of a restaurant with positively exquisite fancy waffles. After a long week, nothing beats a hot golden waffle topped with crispy hash browns, savory melted cheese, steaming scrambled eggs, and a sprinkling of spicy jalapeños. I am thrilled to have the opportunity to both eat fantastic waffles and learn about endangered species conservation for the next five months!

Time is flying-

I’m finishing up my 7th week working out in the BLM Bishop field office. My days are full of plant scouting/collecting, bird counting and luxurious weekends. I successfully completed my first seed collection for SOS of Lepidium flavum– a tiny yellow annual in the mustard family. The plant only grows up to a few inches tall, so I was dreading crawling through the hot desert sand full of Amsinckia tessellata bristles.  But the collection actually proved to be effortless, as each handful of seeds ranged from 100-300 seeds. I made sure to collect well over 10,000 seeds. I wouldn’t be surprised if I actually came close to 20,000-25,000! L. flavum seeds are about the size of sand grains, so accuracy can be difficult but hey the more the merrier. This collection was made in the scenic Alabama Hills, a popular set location for western films due to the striking landscape and juxtaposition of the dry desert and looming peaks of the Eastern Sierra.

The Alabama Hills- my work space for my Lepidium flavum seed collection. Mt Whitney is up there somewhere!

My days of plant scouting have been beautiful. I’ve been collecting vouchers for potential seed collections and I’m up to about 23 vouchers. Ideally I will be able to make seed collections from all of these species. One of my vouchered species (Grayia spinosa) went to seed and got blown out by high winds, which was very sad. But there are two other populations that have great potential and are located in less extreme areas- I’m optimistic!

The Desert Peach (Prunus andersonii) has been blooming like crazy in the central regions of the Bishop BLM property out here.

I’ve additionally encountered interesting insects, which always tugs at my love of entomology. Pollinators like monarchs and sphinx moths are busy at work and colorful sap sucking beetles litter the shrubs. The mosquitoes have not been an issue… yet. With all the water from the snow melt, the mosquitoes are expected to be terrible this year- I’m scared because I’m one of those people they love to feast on.

These playful little guys love to flutter around my bouquets of voucher specimens- Hyles lineata (Hawk/Sphinx moth).

The landscape out here is changing rapidly as the ice and snow sheds off the Eastern Sierras. The days are warming, which is making the early morning Sage Grouse counts more pleasant. I’ve heard tales of single digit temperatures on these mornings in years past, so I’m incredibly grateful to have temperatures in the high 30s low 40s- it’s still freezing for my Southern California skin but well worth it. Sage grouse are the weirdest birds I’ve seen, they’re incredibly entertaining. It would be much more difficult to brave the 2:30 AM wake up times and freezing temperatures to observe a less interesting animal.

We use telescopes to count the grouse and keep our distance from their mating grounds (Leks). Long Valley.

Grouse counts in Bodie can be cold! My co-worker scouting for birds on this blistery morning in the snow and wind.

Strange lighting in the Bodie hills during our bird counts- Bodie is a famous ghost town so you tell me what’s going on here.

It’s not all work out here in Bishop (the work really doesn’t even feel like work) there’s plenty of playtime. Bishop is a spectacular climbing area- climbers come from all around the world to work their stuff in the boulder fields.

Climbing in the caves at the Buttermilks on the weekend.

And the hiking is out of this world…

Things are heating up in Bishop! As the wild flowers keep doing their thing I’ll keep doing mine. Excited to get my SOS collections done and see more interesting animals and insects.

Till next time-

Brittany Betz – BLM Bishop Field Office

When people learn that I am a part of the CLM Program that is through the Chicago Botanic Garden, the first thing that happens is my being asked if I am from Chicago. The second thing that happens, when they learn that I am, in fact, from Atlanta, is that I receive a smirk and am given a casual comment about how Atlanta, Georgia has to be pretty different from Vale, Oregon.

“Casual,” is a key word there; it’s really too blase, because compared to Atlanta, Vale is a completely different world! It’s not simply because it’s on the other side of the country, but the population and town sizes are smaller, there are no tall buildings and it occasionally smells like onions … The craziest thing though, there are barely any trees!

Please try to understand, I’m a nature girl. My bachelors is in Wildlife Biology. I love being outside, and in Georgia, being outside in nature means being surrounded by a mosaic of tree species, it means hiking in the woods, with rolling hills, and it means sweating and seeking a nonexistent relief from the humid, hot, buggy atmosphere. I love Georgia.

Coming to Vale was quite a shock. When you think of Oregon, your mind automatically travels to Portland, a rainy metropolis where it’s rumored that only the tourist use umbrellas, so imagine my surprise when I was told that Vale, which is in the eastern most part of the state, right up alongside the Idaho border, is actually a part of the Oregon High Desert. There are a lot of hills and mountainous areas in Eastern Oregon … with very few trees and because it sits east of the Cascades, it’s in what is called a Rain Shadow, creating an area that receives little rainfall.

Another surprise is that “high desert” doesn’t equate to a large area with nothing but sand and the occasional oasis. The area surrounding Vale is so pleasantly unique from what I know, with its foreign wildlife, winding rivers, large lakes and shrubby hills, and it is so surprisingly beautiful that I find myself bursting with excitement at the opportunities to go out, explore, and learn about this new world.

I’m working as a GIS intern. I don’t have the opportunity to be outside all the time, but I’ve already received several opportunities to go out, see and do some really cool things that are unique to the BLM in Vale, Oregon. I’m glad to say my shock, has turned into delight, as I slowly adapt to my new surroundings.

I’m so excited for the adventures ahead.

It has warmed up quickly in Maryland this year.  I spent a lot of time surveying the limestone bluffs along the Potomac River which has a very nice spring ephemeral display.  In my previous season working at the canal I arrived after the peak of this floral display. Twinleaf is a prime example of one these spring ephemeral species.

Jeffersonia diphylla (Twinleaf) I don’t always catch this species with flower because they last for a short period of time.

I keyed out a couple new invasive plant species as well.  The first was Thlaspi alliaceum (Garlic Pennycress).  This weed seems well established in Maryland and probably has been for a while.  It has been described as a “newly invading species” by some in states such as Ohio as recently as 2015. It occupies acres upon acres of fallow agricultural fields in the Hagerstown Valley and occasionally occurs in smaller though still dense patches along the floodplain forest of the Potomac River.  These observations lead me to believe it prefers open sun and recently disturbed soil.  I have never seen it in upland habitats.  It looks similar to some other weedy species of the Brassicaceae family.  One of the better diagnostic characters of Garlic Pennycress is the slight garlic odor it emits when the tissue is broken.  It belongs to the same tribe as Alliaria petiolate (Garlic Mustard).

Thlaspi alliaceum (Garlic Pennycress) The light green in this photo is Garlic Pennycress flowering in the thousands in a farm field close to the canal.

The other invasive species is Lamium galeobdolon (Yellow Archangel).  I found a small patch along the Potomac River in central Maryland.  The Mid-Atlantic Exotic Plant team of the National Park Service recently released an invasive plant alert for this species in the region.  I reported the location of this species to the Park Biologist for eradication.

Lamium galeobdolon (Yellow Archangel) To my knowledge this is the first time this invasive plant has been recorded in the canal boundary.

The state Natural Heritage Program botanist was nice enough to meet me in the falls line area of Maryland to review several species of Amelanchier that he had done genetic testing on several years earlier.  Amelanchier nantucketensis is one of the G1-G3 plant species that I am focusing my surveying efforts on this season.  We found it in flower and he schooled me on some of the nuances of hybridization within this genus and their morphological character overlap.

Amelanchier nantucketensis (Nantucket Serviceberry) The short and narrow petals of this species are diagnostic. Interestingly, the petals will sometimes bare pollen.

I briefly visited the shale barrens of western Maryland as well and was happy to find a few of the endemic plants that grow there in flower.

Trifolium virginicum (Kate’s Mountain Clover) Shale Barren endemic

Coleman Minney

Chesapeake and Ohio Canal National Historical Park

This week has really been the best week that I have had so far in Southern Oregon. The weather has been somewhat cooperating and has made it awesome for weekend activities.

Last weekend I went to Crater Lake National Park. I went with the intent to do two short hikes and enjoy lunch on the rim over looking the lake. I however was not aware that there was going to be over 20 feet of snow covering most of the roads in the park.

Well the best thing you can do in a situation like that is to adapt and to overcome. So naturally in the spirit of fun and adventure, when the park ranger offered up snow shoes to rent, I did a 5 mile snow shoe trek around the rim of Crater Lake. And let me tell you the views were incredible, the sun burn afterwards not so fun.

The next day was Earth Day and there was an event in Ashland, OR that the BLM had a booth and their salmon tent set up at. So I volunteered to help out with it. Having kids come up and play for hours in the costumes, and wait in line to go into the salmon tent to have a story read to them is such a great way to spend the day. It was a super rewarding way to have fun and interact with the local community.

Then this week allowed me to have a pretty incredible random experience………….. I got to meet elephants. That’s right. Elephants. I got to feed elephants. I got to pet elephants. I got to shake trunks with elephants. It was the most incredible chance encounter ever.

I had to cross private land in order to reach a rare plant survey plot that I needed to get done that day. So I called up the resident and he was more than happy to let me come and park my car and walk across his land to get there. When I arrive at his property, he tells me he runs an exotic animal farm so not to be alarmed if I heard any elephants. And naturally I was very confused and I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped to the floor. He laughed and invited me to meet his two elephants. Honestly what amazing creatures to have in your backyard.

And that has easily been the best week so far.

Sierra Sampson

Medford, Oregon BLM

After eight days of I-40, racing wild horses along side the highway, exploring the Southwest, and being decidedly far from my Appalachian mountain town, I finally made it to the high desert town of Burns, Oregon. Here, I have started my five month term as a riparian intern with the Bureau of Land Management.

While some of my first week has been arduous computer trainings, system enrollments, and rental agreements, there has been plenty of time spent soaking up the natural surroundings offered by BLM wilderness areas and Malheur forests. Our first field assignment took us to hills facing the marvelous snow-capped Steens mountain range, flanked by flooded ranches and flatlands supporting populations of countless bird species, wild burros, antelope, and elk. My fellow CLM intern, Rachel Wood, our mentor, Jarod, and BLM rangeland manager Lisa started our day at 7am to begin on-the-ground demarcation of Western Juniper (Juniperus occidentalis) stands for removal on local public lands. The tree’s post-settlement (new growth) stands have outcompeted some portions of sagebrush habitats, most notably of the sage-grouse (Centrocercus urophasianus). Much of BLM’s management in the area comes back to protection of this indicator species, as its health reflects the overall ecological health of sagebrush landscapes.

But what does riparian ecology have to do with this? In the desert of all places?

Simply put, removing these junipers frees up various resources, allows for greater storage of water, and production of valuable meadow and riparian habitats for plant species and wildlife forage. This is only one element of riparian health, as well as overall ecological management in the area affected by high density Juniper stands.

My education on the very wet and green east coast mountain ranges will definitely be tested in my new high desert home! As Jarod has explained to me, a difference of 4 inches of rainfall could have serious implications for fire season, vegetation, and wildlife populations. Snow melt from the winter and early spring months provides a large proportion of water used for plants to green out this time in the season. The summer months will invite fire crews, drought season, and temperatures much hotter than the current 50 degree highs. Lips dry, and hands reaching for bight pink tape, we continued walking along the border and flagging the perimeter of one of five 4-mile Juniper stands. In the distance, the Steens mountains reflect bright white caps; the contrast and variation of East Oregon is unlike any location I have had the opportunity to study. As our day winds down, we round the final finger of land mapped to be visited today. The area we mark will be cut by next October, if all funding and fieldwork goes accordingly. After Junipers are cut, it is expected that native shrubs and forbs will return in higher volumes.

Our field team rejoins to talk news drama and pet our canine field assistant, Dee. Our long day of work has started my journey of understanding this landscape, and enjoying its beauty!

Over my first eight weeks at the Ridgecrest office, I’ve slowly grown accustomed to the procedures of making SOS collections. And thankfully, with some help from Sarah De Groot (a field botanist from The Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden), my fellow intern and I have gained some competency in local field botany. But, happily, just as I’d begun to settle into the process of scouting and seed collection, new tasks and challenges appeared, maintaining the pace of learning and adaptation that was set by the first few weeks of work here.

Two weeks ago, I felt as though I was just first coming to grips with the process of making Seeds of Success collections, when Sarah De Groot took me and two other interns along on a collection trip in the Amargosa Range, near Death Valley. However, while she instructed us on exactly how to make a collection of either seed or tissue, Sarah didn’t necessarily stress the importance of always being prepared to make an SOS collection. As I’ve now experienced on multiple occasions, upon setting out to scout for populations, I won’t necessarily find the plants that I need. However, I may find a large, healthy population on a day which was initially set aside for range land health assessments, or for monitoring a listed species. While herbarium and database consulting was useful in the first weeks here, overall, the most productive strategy has been to simply keep my eyes open and be prepared to make voucher collections while going about other business.

Our camp for the night, near Twelvemile Spring, at sunset.

The most recent work that has come my way is the task of monitoring a few State listed plant populations in our field office. In particular, my fellow Ridgecrest intern and I were met by another working botanist from the Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden, Naomi Fraga. She did her Master’s work on the Kelso valley region of Kern County, near Weldon, California. As such, she was interested in joining us for a quick estimate of the Mimulus shevockii population in the area, which was subjected to a burn during last year’s Erskine Fire.
Luckily, the fire appeared to burn relatively cool in the area. Although the area covered by the burn was large, it didn’t appear to affect the seed bed of M. shevockii, which bounced back in even higher numbers than were found last year just before the fire. We estimated that the region supports around 1,220 individuals total, with about 55% of them in the fire-affected area. Since the Erskine fire was widely hailed as one of the most destructive in Kern County’s history, it is nice to see that some of the local plant life has managed to pull through. And, on another positive note, it would appear that like the local plant life, nearby communities affected by the Erskine fire have also begun to reclaim areas lost to the blaze.

The Kelso Creek area, one year after the Erskine fire.

A rather large example of Mimulus shevockii Heckard & Bacig.

Ironically enough, many other areas of the Ridgecrest field office have been subjected to flooding this year, due to uncharacteristically heavy rainfall. That rainfall ended the five-year drought which contributed to the intensity of the Erskine fire, but it has also been responsible for flooding throughout the state. We need to make significant policy changes to combat the effects and causes of this volatile weather, in order to protect both ourselves and the environment around us. As we saw many times this year, we cannot always insulate ourselves from the effects that severe weather has on the landscape. Human lives are also tied up in the balance.

-Jonathon