Slowly but surely, fall is arriving here at Plumas National Forest. While the days of 105 degree heat and nonstop wildfires are behind us, we still aren’t experiencing the usual crisp in the air, bright orange leaves, and frequent rainfall that is familiar to me as an Easterner. The majority of our trees here in Plumas are conifers; pines, firs, douglas fir, trees that remain green year-round (as opposed to the deciduous, or seasonal shedding, nature of most flowering trees). This results in a subdued sweep of fall colors, making you have to search a little more to find signs of the new season. While the days are hot, my morning walks to the office now require a thick sweater and often a mug of hot coffee as well. The constant sunshine and clear skies are now occasionally interrupted by foggy, drizzly days. We may not have dense orange-red forests, but in some places, pops of color are emerging, reminding me that my work here is rapidly coming to an end.
The hardy evergreen conifers found in Plumas National Forest are a reflection of our regional climate. Located in Northern California, in the Sierra Nevada, means we have arid summers and cold winters. Conifers have evolved to withstand harsher environments, with their sturdy pine needles resisting the cold and retaining moisture better than their broadleaf counterparts. Flowering plants, however, fair better when they go through the annual process of preparing for winter. By shedding their leaves, they are able to essentially “hibernate”, conserving water and energy, and reducing the risk of branches falling off during a heavy snowstorm.
While it is true that most conifers are evergreen, there are exceptions. Our Ranger Station has a few ornamentals planted, trees that are native to the Western US, but not California. One of our most notable planted species is a Western Larch (Larix occidentalis). Native to northwestern states such as Washington, Montana, and Idaho, the Western Larch has evolved to be both deciduous and needle-bearing. This is an advantage to them in their native range, where winters are especially long and frigid. Winter photosynthesis is not optimal in these regions, so Western Larches shed their needles in order to maximize their protection. Having a bright pop of yellow amongst our green Ponderosa Pines is a wonderful sight, and makes me want to explore its native region in the Eastern Cascades!
Another deciduous species I’ve found is Mountain Ash, Sorbus sitchensis, a shrubby plant that has pinnate leaves resembling those of Ash trees. Despite the similarity in common name and appearance, Mountain Ash is not in the same family as Ash trees, it’s in the rose family, Rosaceae. A great example of why it’s important to learn latin names, so that confusion is avoided!
Deciduous Mountain Ash (Sorbus sitchensis)
With the end of summer also comes the end of field work. Sam and I spent the past month refining, cleaning, and reviewing our work from the summer. Bags and bags of unprocessed seed were worked through, and countless hours of tedious seed cleaning eventually resulted in a satisfying compilation of all of our work, organized neatly into labeled plastic bags. With most of our tasks approaching completion, I’ve had some more time to reflect on my experience as a CLM intern. I feel tremendous satisfaction and gratitude washing over me as I think back to my first week here, and how I went from knowing nothing about Western plants to being where I am today. I’ve had great mentors, and many great experiences to help me solidify my skills and knowledge. These past few weeks I’ve been mindful of this new “lens” I’ve developed, now that I have a greater understanding of the world around me in this region, a feeling that first drew me into botany. It’s a profound appreciation for being able to see the beautiful details of the natural world.
View of Gold Lake
I’ll miss Plumas National Forest, but I am excited to see what’s next for me and the rest of the 2024 CLM cohort!
September has been a doozy. Work-wise, we’re finishing up our seed collections and moving full time to reseeding and replanting in burned areas. We’ve made a strong push to finish collections and grab the last few species that are populous enough, and our office is filling with bags of seed that are waiting to be weighed and logged. This has been lucky for me because at the beginning of the month I sprained my ankle on the job so badly that I am just now getting back into the field. BIG bummer, but that’s the way it goes.
Photo taken moments before disaster: crawdad (dead) found in the creek where I later sprained my ankle
One benefit to my time in the office is that our seed collection has been much more efficient and focused. I’ve been able to spend more time going through the data and determining what species we can reasonably finish collections for as well as where we might find them based on our scouting. With so much data, there were lots of little patches that we had been missing, so it feels good to be on top of the data. Additionally, I’m getting our data sufficiently organized so we will be able to focus on seeding for longer as the report writing shouldn’t take as much time.
Having just recently re-entered the field, I don’t have many pictures to show for this month. But last week I went out to do some roadside collections that didn’t require too much ankle strength and got some pictures of fall entering the forest:
Sunlight peeking through the clouds onto the hillside
Fall in the forest seems to exist in largely brown and yellow hues, different from the orange and red I’m used to. Still, it’s more colorful than I expected with the majority of the forest so coniferous. The temperatures are staying strong with highs in the 80s, but the lows are starting to drop. We’ve taken to wearing multiple layers to account for the extreme change from morning to noon. That’s the desert for you.
That’s all I have for this month. It’s been slow, and I’ve been spending lots of time on my computer.
October may be the spooky season, but September is emo in the Chugach National Forest. The landscape takes on a darker, more introspective tone. Everything becomes adorned in dark colors, the sun shows itself less and less every day, and the scent of fermentation and decay fills your nose. Blood red reigns over the dwarf resin birch leaves, a striking contrast against the darkening landscape. The fireweed transforms from red to maroon to a brown so deep that it almost appears black, with a captivating, fiery center. The once pure white yarrow takes on a new dark persona, claiming, “It’s not a phase, Mom.” Though seeming ghostly as it hangs after the consistent rains, the soggy cottongrass adds an ethereal beauty to the red and brown autumn muskeg. In its final act, False hellebore is bored of it all and dramatically falls to the ground, taking its neighbors with it. The once vibrant green sphagnum moss dons its red dress for September, a stunning transformation amid decay.
Dwarf resin birch leavesFiery fireweedYarrow already mourning it’s own demiseTall cottongrass Sphagnum in mid SeptemberHonorable mention- blueberry in the muskeg
Clouds shroud the sky in gloom. Fog rolls through the mountains, engulfing you in its blanket of comfort. Bright reds and oranges glow from the few sunsets and sunrises you witness. Mushrooms appear in immense volumes as their mycelium works to decompose the organisms that weren’t metal enough to survive the changing season. Salmon move slowly in the streams, taking their last breath as their friends rot around them.
Wood ear mushroomAngel wing mushroomsSpawned out chum salmon decayingFireweed blanketed in fogSunrise in Turnagain ArmFog rolling into Kenai Lake
Yet, amidst all the death and decay, some seasonal species persist with a stubborn resilience. Even though the snow is imminent, many graminoid species seeds are taking their time ripening, staying green even as their leaves brown. Their green rebellion is the most punk of all. Inconvenient for a seed collector? Yes. An admirable and inspiring message to go against the norm regardless of the world’s pressures? Also yes.
A rebellious rosa acicularis flower blooming in SeptemberA stubborn carex, like many other graminoids, taking it’s time ripening
Move over October. September, ruled by the colors black and red and the spectrum between them, is the most emo month I know. Green Day might say to wake them up when September Ends, but I was an emo kid. Keep me up until September ends.
Mushroom fruiting body among twin flower vinesFalse hellebore falling dramaticallySitka burnet rockin’ it’s emo autumn wardrobeThe pitch black mouth of a high alpine char.Purple spindles growing on a trailArtemisia arcticaGeranium seeds Highbush cranberry (the scent of September in Alaska)Some more displays of September’s colors.
On a cool September day, my co-intern and I drove the fifty miles on a dirt road to the Spotted Bear Ranger Station. The road follows the winding, rugged shoreline of the Hungry Horse Reservoir. Pulling into the station’s office, we noticed a fringe of orange flames burning lazily up the mountain. We wondered if we would still be able to stay at the bunkhouse that night. We soon learned that a prescribed burn was taking place, carefully planned around the several inches of rain predicted that night and the next day. The morning proved the weather forecast correct. A mist hung about the road as we drove past the ranger station the next morning on our way to Meadow Creek Gorge. The gorge is reminiscent of what the Hungry Horse landscape may have looked like before the reservoir, before the inundation of the long, steep valley carved by the South Fork of the Flathead River.
The swimming hole at Spotted Bear Ranger Station
Smoke and mist settling in the Meadow Creek Gorge
At Meadow Creek Trailhead, we spoke with a few visitors who had turned southeast, away from the gates of Glacier National Park, and towards the remote Bob Marshall Wilderness. One of the visitors, a fisherman, mentioned the beneficial impact of the Hungry Horse Dam in preventing nonnative fish from swimming upstream and degrading habitat for native cutthroat and bull trout. This comment, said in passing, catalyzed a world of exploration for me as I delved into the dam’s history and ecological impact.
View of the reservoir at the top of the Hungry Horse Dam
Hungry Horse sign
On our next trip down to Spotted Bear, we stopped at the dam’s visitor center, perched halfway up the steep mountainside, along the road that runs overtop the dam. A sign in the art deco style of “The Big Dam Era” — in its heyday from the 1930s to 1960s (Lee 2023) — announces the dam. Finished in November 1953, the Hungry Horse Dam was a crowning achievement of the era. Standing at 564 feet, it was the second tallest dam in the world at the time of its completion (McKay 1994). Black and white photographs in the visitor center document the larger-than-life engineering feat of the dam’s construction. Tiny figures of men stand in miniature within the 12-foot diameter spillway tunnel. Yet these men moved mountains, blasting a tunnel through the adjoining rock wall to divert the river during dam construction.
Man inside the giant spillway tunnel; photo from the Hungry Horse Visitor Center
The diversion tunnel the river flowed through while the dam was being built; photo from the Hungry Horse Visitor Center
The little town of Hungry Horse, still standing today, sprung up to support the laborers. The town and dam are named after an incident in the winter of 1900. Two men hauling equipment over the South Fork of the Flathead River noticed, after the river crossing, that two of their horses, Jerry and Tex, were missing. A month later the horses were found “belly deep in snow and nothing but skin and bones” (Stene 1995). The horses were nursed back to strength and lived out their days in nearby Kalispell, but the area bears witness to their hungriest hour. A large steel ball, painted a garish silver, stands as a mysterious testament to the town’s origin. The dam building started not with pouring the dam’s concrete but with clearing trees from the flow area to limit debris in the reservoir. (Grant 2018). Several logging companies took up the herculean task of clearing the 37 square miles of land in the reservoir’s path (McKay 1994). The large steel ball standing in Hungry Horse today was used in the “highball” clearing method that could clear 200 acres in 4 hours (McKay 1994; Grant 2018). The ball, 8 feet in diameter and 8,000 pounds in heft, was not a wrecking ball but rather a weight (Shaw 1967). A long cable, secured between two bulldozers and held fast at the center by the heavy ball, was used to drag down and uproot trees. Using this unusual method along with more conventional methods, loggers harvested 90 million board feet of timber from the area in just a few years (Grant 2018).
8,000-pound steel ball used in the “highball” clearing method
“Highball” clearing method in-action
Once completed in 1953, the dam backed up the South Fork of the Flathead River for 34 miles and flooded about 22,500 acres of land (McKay 1994). Today, the dam still fulfills its original purpose, generating electricity, regulating water flow for flood mitigation, and acting as water storage for downstream dams in the greater Columbia River Basin system. The Hungry Horse reservoir is one of two other headwater reservoirs for the Columbia River Basin, the other being the Koocanusa Reservoir in the adjacent Kootenai National Forest. Together, these two reservoirs provide approximately 40% of the usable water storage in the U.S. portion of the Columbia Basin (Muhlfeld, 2012). The Hungry Horse dam impacts both local and regional ecosystems, since water from the reservoir travels more than 1,100 miles from Montana’s mountains to the Pacific Ocean. Some of those impacts are obvious, like the creation of a lake from a river. Other impacts are less so.
Aerial view of the dam
This sign outside the visitor center shows just a few of the almost 60 dams in the Columbia River watershed
The dam’s four penstocks (gates that direct water to the turbines) are located 241 feet below the reservoir level. Water at that depth maintains a year-round temperature of about 38F, which is quite a bit colder than summer surface temperatures of up to 68F (Christenson et al., 1996). Biologists speculated that the dam’s cold-water discharge would modify the downstream river ecology (Christenson et al., 1996). By the 1980s, biologists with Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks were recording falling native trout populations, stunted trout growth rates, and changes in the trout’s prey, macroinvertebrates. They also found unusually large numbers of cold-water lake trout in the Flathead river’s main stem. The cold water offered an ideal habitat for the voracious lake trout which fed with abandon on juvenile cutthroat and bull trout (Cristenson et al.,1996). The food web was changing. To combat these effects, the discharged water needed temperature control (Standford et al., 1992). A “Selective Withdrawal System” was installed in August 1996. The system placed 100-foot-long selective depth outlet structures over the penstocks. Warm surface water could be skimmed off the top of the reservoir and mixed with cooler water anywhere from 30 to 200 feet below the water’s surface. Electronic temperature sensors ran the length of the structures and informed which outlets to open and close to produce the required water temperatures. The system is still in use and begins operations each year in June after spring runoff flows reduce and continues until October. The release of warmer water during the biologically productive summer months has eliminated the artificial cooling of the river and returned it to its pre-dam annual temperature cycle (State of Montana, 2014).
Selective Withdrawal System information board at the Hungry Horse Dam Visitor Center
In the almost 30 years since its installment, the selective withdrawal system has measurably affected the surrounding ecosystem. Eliminating cold discharges during summer appears to have restricted the movement of non-native lake trout upstream from Flathead Lake (Muhlfeld et al., 2012). Studies on macroinvertebrate populations are mostly inconclusive though there are some signs of slightly improved benthic macroinvertebrate assemblages in the South Fork River, downstream of the dam (Richards, 2010). The selective withdrawal system allows some aspects of the downstream river to return to pre-dam conditions, but other aspects cannot be so easily turned back. Flow regulation for flood control and power generation has resulted in an inversion of the natural hydrograph; water storage during spring keeps run-off low and release of water during summer, fall, and winter keeps flows unnaturally high (Muhlfeld, 2012). The current flow management strategy simulates natural flow conditions to maximize bull trout habitat in the South Fork of the Flathead River by keeping flows lower, but flows must still remain artificially high to augment flow for anadromous fish recovery hundreds of miles downstream, in the lower Columbia River Basin (Muhlfeld, 2012). Caught in a web of ecological consequences, changing one thing then affects another, achieving all pre-dam conditions is elusive. Can a controlled river really be made to mimic a natural river?
The visitor’s passing comment about one of the beneficial effects of the dam is true; the dam has proven an effective barrier against nonnative fish. The South Fork River upstream of the Hungry Horse Dam contains one of the largest self-sustaining populations of westslope cutthroat trout in existence (Marotz et al., 1996). The reservoir also supports a stable bull trout population, which can be attributed to the relatively undisturbed spawning tributaries in the Bob Marhsall Wilderness upstream of the dam (Marotz et al., 1996). Moreover, the dam provides clean, renewable energy, critical as we try to slow down human-caused climate change. Yet, by removing the historical disturbances of flood and drought cycles through flow regulation, the biological characteristics of the downstream Flathead River have been altered (Schmutz and Moog, 2018; Muhlfeld, 2012). And, of course, the reservoir itself has buried an entire landscape and its local ecosystem under hundreds of feet of water. The Hungry Horse dam created a new ecosystem while also preserving some aspects of the past ecosystem. Some impacts of the dam can be mitigated, while other impacts require adaptation in human, animal, and plant lifestyle.
The land southeast of the reservoir, past the Spotted Bear Ranger Station; the mist over the old burn area looked like a fantasy novel setting
References
Christenson, D. J., Robert L. Sund, and Brian L. Marotz. “Hungry Horse Dams successful selective withdrawal system.” Hydro Review 15.3 (1996).
Grant, James A. “Historic Logging Uses and Timber Management at Hungry Horse Reservoir.” U.S. Bureau of Reclamation. (2018). https://www.bpa.gov/-/media/Aep/environmental-initiatives/cultural-resources/historic-logging-uses.pdf
“Hungry Horse Reservoir, Montana: Biological Impact Evaluation and Operational Constraints for a proposed 90,000-acre-foot withdrawal.” State of Montana. September 14, 2011. https://dnrc.mt.gov/_docs/water/Appendix_8_StateBiologicalConstraintsMemo.pdf
Lee, Gabriel. “Overview: The Big Dam Era.” Energy History Online. Yale University. (2023). https://energyhistory.yale.edu/the-big-dam-era/.
Marotz, B. L., et al. “Model development to establish integrated operational rule curves for Hungry Horse and Libby Reservoirs—Montana.” Report to the Bonneville Power Administration. Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks, Kalispell (1996).
McKay, Kathryn L. “Trails of the Past: Historical Overview of the Flathead National Forest, Montana, 1800–1960.” Flathead National Forest. (1994). http://www.npshistory.com/publications/usfs/region/1/flathead/history/#:~:text=TRAILS%20OF%20THE%20PAST:%20Historical%20Overview
Muhlfeld, Clint C., et al. “Assessing the impacts of river regulation on native bull trout (Salvelinus confluentus) and westslope cutthroat trout (Oncorhynchus clarkii lewisi) habitats in the upper Flathead River, Montana, USA.” River Research and Applications 28.7 (2012): 940-959.
Richards, David C., and Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks. “Possible effects of selective withdrawal-temperature control at Hungry Horse Dam, nuisance growth of Didymosphenia geminata, and other factors, on benthic macroinvertebrate assemblages in the Flathead River.” Report to Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks, Kalispell MT (2010).
Schmutz, Stefan, and Otto Moog. “Dams: ecological impacts and management.” Riverine ecosystem management: Science for governing towards a sustainable future (2018): 111-127.
Shaw, Charlie. “The Flathead Story.” USDA Forest Service, Flathead National Forest. (1967) http://www.npshistory.com/publications/usfs/region/1/flathead/story/index.htm#:~:text=THE%20FLATHEAD%20STORY.%20By.%20Charlie%20Shaw.
Stanford, Jack A., and F. Richard Hauer. “Mitigating the impacts of stream and lake regulation in the Flathead River catchment, Montana, USA: an ecosystem perspective.” Aquatic Conservation: Marine and Freshwater Ecosystems 2.1 (1992): 35-63.
Stene, Eric A. “Hungry Horse Project.” U.S. Bureau of Reclamation. (1995) https://www.usbr.gov/projects/pdf.php?id=125
September, for the most part, has marked the end of the field season for us here on the Bighorn National Forest. Scorching days in August dried up much of the vegetation, and the last of the grasses and forbs have reached their natural seed dispersal stage. Plants that mature late in the season were the main focus for us this month—Penstemon strictus, Chamaenerion angustifolium, Elymus trachycaulus, Erigeron speciosus, and Liatris punctata. All of these plants are on the “target species list” given to us by the Colorado Natural Heritage Program’s seed collecting team, but there’s another list… a secret menu, if you will: the “opportunistic collection list”. We’ve been busy with our target species for most of the time, but late this September, the opportunity arose, and we pounced. Driving through Ten Sleep Canyon, and with a few hours left in the day, we spotted some Asclepias speciosus, Showy Milkweed, and Kaitlyn remembered that this species was on the opportunistic collections list. We pulled over and it was just ready to collect! Some pods had already dispersed their seed, but many were just splitting open, and we could scoop the entire bundle of seed and fluff right out. It turned out to be one of my favorite collections of the season. Great opportunity taken.
Left to right: Milkweed, Kaitlyn in Ten Sleep Canyon, Fireweed in a very spooky burned area
The opportunistic collection list holds the last species that we’ll visit for our last field days in October—Artemisia tridentata, Big Sagebrush. I cherish every moment left on the forest as our season comes to a close, so I’m really looking forward to these collections!
September also brought several other unique opportunities, at work and otherwise, that I’m really glad I got to experience. Two summer bucket list items got knocked off the list in a single day: We went out with the Aquatics shop to Cookstove Basin wayyy in the Northwest corner of the forest to visit a long-term monitoring site at a huge beaver pond, and we rode the ATVs! Check. And lunch break, we took a little rod with a spinner lure to the pond and I caught a Cutthroat Trout! Check.
Tasty looking Cutthroat (did not actually eat)
I also got to make a collection that wasn’t on any of our lists, Thalictrum occidentale. These seeds I collected (with permission from the forest) for my old boss at the University of Washington for research on pollination modes and sex determination. It felt great to continue contributing to these projects even after I’ve moved on!
Thalictrum. From left to right: Female flowers, male flowers, achenes.
I’ve also had my eye on Cloud Peak, the tallest peak on the forest, all summer. I finally pulled the trigger on it and made the climb on a beautiful weekend. I came back with two weeks of knee pain and heels completely raw, but also with lovely memories (and quads of steel).
From left to right: Gunboat and Fortress Lakes at sunset, camp at Mistymoon Lake, Diamond Lake from Cloud Peak Summit!
And I didn’t go a moment too soon because the next week, we got our first snow! The seasons are changing, and it’s a gorgeous time to be on the Bighorn. The aspens are in full fall color, and the dusting of snow on the peaks of the Cloud Peak Wilderness is a magical sight. One more month here, but I already miss it!
Much like August, September has been full of seed collecting. While we had a lovely diversity of species in August and into early September, collecting plants from different families and habitat type, mid to late September has been a different story with the species proving to be a little more difficult. Looking similarly and growing in the same habitats.
The species we spent most of our time on in September were Symphyotrichum laeve (smooth blue aster) Erigeron speciosus (showy fleabane) and Eurybia conspicua (showy aster).
Luckily, with our training and experience in plant identification from earlier this summer, we have gotten pretty good at spotting the small differences between plants. E. speciosus is a “fleabane” and not an “aster” because it as a different type of bract. S. laeve and E. conspicua have tall, tube like scaly bracts of multiple layers. While E. speciosus has a flat bract with only one layer. E. speciosus also had more ray flowers, meaning that it has a greater number of thinner purple petals and they look more crowded. Both features setting this species apart from the other two.
Wider petals of Symphyotrichum laeve (left) and the thinner more numerous petals of Erigeron speciosus (right). Both providing pollen for native bumble bees 🙂
The flowers and bracts of S. laeve and E. conspicua are near identical. However, luckily they have one big difference. S. laeve is known as smooth blue aster because it is the only purple aster with completely smooth, hairless leaves and stems. Where as E. conspicua has larger rough sand paper-like hairy leaves and stem.
The thin smooth leaves of Symphyotrichum laeve (left) and the wider, rough leaves of Eurybia conspicua (right)
While initially observing purples asters in the field, we still had to stop and check the bracts under the flower heads and feel the leaf texture, but we have gotten quicker!
Unfortunately, IDing these species when they’ve gone to seed isn’t any easier.
Eurybia conspicua with mature seed heads (left) and Symphytrichum laeve with mature seed heads (right)
Luckily with E. conspicua the rough leaves are still present when the plant is at mature seed and it is identifiable that way.
Symphytrichum laeve and Erigeron speciosus seed heads both at mature seed growing next to each other
However, the difference between S. laeve and E. speciosus becomes harder at mature seed because the bract is no longer present and the leaves are a similar size and shape. Something we were able to observe is that E. speciosus has more a perfectly circular seed head and is often a lighter color (seen clearly in the left photo above). It makes sense that the seed head appears more compact and round because E. speciosus has a higher number of flowers per flower head.
A more concrete difference between the two when the bract isn’t present is that S. laeve has leaves that clasp around the stem, while E. speciosus also does not have a petiole, but the leaves do not wrap or clasp the stem at all. This was our sure fire way of telling them apart if there were no flower head presents, but usually, due to the variability in phenology, we could usually find some plants still flowering in the shade!
Another obstacle we ran into with these purple asters is that Eurybia conspicua does not like to flower. Like most aster E. conspicua is perennial, but it was still fascinating to come across hundreds of the same plant in a population and not find a single flower.
Patch of Eurybia conspicua not flowering (left) and Erigeron speciosus flowering in a patch of non-flowering Eurybia conspicua (right)
When we did find patches that were flowering, less the a quarter of the population would be. Almost half of the populations we scouted this summer did not end up producing a single flower. Eurybia conspicua reminds me of bear grass (Xerophyllum tenax) in that way.
October 1st was our last day of seed collection and I have to say, it was bittersweet. I so enjoyed traveling all over Flathead National Forest and getting to stay in remote places like Spotted Bear Ranger Station. I am, however, excited to get into the data of everything we collected and to create herbarium specimens.
Here’s to the final month of the internship!
-Erynn Flathead National Forest
White variant of Symphytrichum laeve seen in the Swan Valley!
” There’s something especially beautiful about holding a critically endangered bumble bee in the palm of your hand whilst knowing that you’ve dedicated a whole summer of your life to collecting plant seed that will be used to create more habitat for this species “
Native pollinators on Erigeron speciosus
August has been a busy month that threw us quickly into long days of seed collecting. After spending most of the beginning half of the summer preforming vegetation surveys with the botany crew, my CLM coworker Grace and I started our solo mission of collecting and scouting as many populations of our target plant species as we could.
The first week of the month we only had one species that was seeding and ready to collect, Heuchera cylindrica (roundleaf alumroot). By the end of the month we were collecting from 6 different species adding Agastache urticifolia (giant horse mint), Chamerion angustifolium (fireweed), Erigeronspeciosus (showy fleabane), Heterotheca villosa (hairy goldenaster) and Monarda fistulosa (wild bergamot). Some of our target species were not ready to collect yet and will not be seeding for several more weeks.
It’s been fascinating to have the opportunity to closely observe the phenology of each species. Even more interesting has been the diversity of phenology within the same species, same population, or even the same plant!
A Grindelia howellii plant with one flower head and one head going to seedMonarda fistulosa seedhead (upper) with a purple flowering Symphyotrichum laeve (lower)An Agastache urticifolia inflorescence fading from bright purple to red brownHeterotheca villosa plant with flower heads in various stages between flowering and seeding
We quickly learned that phenology is not so predictable. Flower heads hang around longer than you would expect, the transition from fruit to mature seed a lot longer process. Towards the end of the month we became better at giving plants more time, instead of driving back to the same population multiple times (though it still happened).
An interesting observation I made this month is that when flowers are going to seed, the seeding begins at the based of the inflorescence and moves up, or at the center of a flower head and moves out. Some species you can observe this really well, like in Chamerion angustifolium, towards the end of the summer when it begins to seed, it will have fluffy white seed pods breaking open towards the bottom of the spike, but on the top there will still be flowers!
Inflorescence with mature open seed pods on the bottom and immature fruit at the topInflorescence with fruit on the bottom, flowers in the middle, and flower buds on topChamerion angustifolium
In addition to collecting lots and lots of seed, we got the amazing opportunity to get a tour of the Forest Service Nursey in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho where we will deliver our seed at the end of the season. I was very grateful that we got to visit it in to the middle of growing season to see all the plants that they grow for restoration and research projects. While the nursery does grow herbaceous plants for seed planting, they mostly grow coniferous tree saplings and send them out as plugs to be planted back in the National Forest after logging or burns. I’ve never seen so many tree sapling in my life!
Larix occidentalis plugs for replanting forestsChamerion angustifolium and Symphytrichumlaeve being grown at the nursery
The highlight of the tour was getting to learn about all of the whitebark pine restoration efforts that the nursery plays a key part in. The whitebark pine, Pinus albicaulis, was added to the Endangered Species List as a “Threatened” species in 2023 due to insects, fungi, and climate change causing the species to decline rapidly. The main concern is blister rust which is caused by a fungus. However, it has been found that there are populations of Pinus albicaulis that are immune to the disease! These trees are known as Plus Trees. Researchers and FS crews alike have gone up to these populations and gathered seed and pollen so that Plus Trees could be grown at nurseries and then planted back into suitable habitat!
Whitebark pine (Pinus albicaulis) pollen and seed (left and center) stored in a giant cooler that will be used to grow Plus Trees for years to come! And, a giant green house full of Pinus albicaulis seedlings and saplings that will be planted back in the forest when they are big enough.
The manager of the nursery said that the hardest part of growing the Pinus albicaulis is that they are built for harsh high elevation growing conditions which means they grow slowwwww. In the first year, they may only grow an inch out of the soil!
We were lucky enough to hike up to one of these Plus Tree habitats. Pinus albicaulis sure knows how to pick a beautiful spot.
Lake on the hike to high elevationsA healthy, mature Whitebark pine!Ridge views from the top
Another highlight of the month was getting to do our final pollinator survey. The whole crew journeyed to a meadow Grace and I had scouted for seed collecting and recorded over 60 bumble bees! The morning was a little chilly in the mountains so the bees were cold and sleepy and absolutely adorable.
Sleepy bees resting after their photo shoot
Preforming these bumble bee surveys means a lot to me because they remind me why all the seed I’m running around collecting is so important. During this survey in particular we believe that we found two Suckley Cuckoo Bumble Bees (Bombus suckleyi) which is a native species of concern and considered rare in the state. There’s something especially beautiful about holding a critically endangered bumble bee in the palm of your hand whilst knowing that you’ve dedicated a whole summer of your life to collecting plant seed that will be used to create more habitat for this species.
Possible Suckley Cuckoo Bumble Bee (Bombus suckleyi)
One really unique thing about internships is that you are often given the opportunity to work with different departments or visit another office in order to learn more about the organization as a whole. A couple of weeks ago, I was lucky enough to be able to visit the USFS J. Herbert Stone Nursery in Medford, OR. What started as a quick trip to pick up a seed mix for post fire recovery turned into a full facility tour.
Stacks of tree seedling plugs in styrofoam planters waiting to be transplanted to the outdoor fields.
The nursery is technically within the Roque-River Siskiyou National Forest, but it serves public lands across Oregon, Washington, and Northern California. It provides seed storage and propagation for USFS, BLM, DOD, and more. We were able to walk through the storage rooms where they had large garage doors that opened with a pull of a string from the ceiling (very cartoony of them). The freezers were massive and very cold. To our left were row after row of boxed seed waiting to be pulled out and sown. I even spotted seed from my home forest, the Umpqua National Forest!
Tree seedling packing machinery.
We then made it out to the fields. This 300 plus acre facility takes the source-identified wild seed collections and grows them out to increase overall yield. Since it was so late in the season, not much was growing in the field. We did get to see some Penstemon species that requires two years to flower, but otherwise, we just took in the size of the plots.
Boxes of stored seed in the nursery freezers.
Finally, we made it out to the greenhouses. The greenhouses are used mostly for tree seedlings, an important thing to have on hand for national forests with increasing wildfire activity. It contained rows-and-rows of Douglas firs, incense cedars, mountain hemlocks, and white bark pine. We learned how different places want different qualities in their seedlings. Some want really big and tall seedlings and others shorter but with thick stems. These desires lead to different propagation methods. Some lots grow for two whole years in the greenhouses, while others spend those two years completely outside in the field, and then others spend time in both conditions.
Greenhouse full of tree seedlings. Some are in their first year while others are in their second year of growth.
One final unique thing we got to see was a collection of gum trees that had been to space. In 2022, NASA sent a collection of trees including Douglas Firs from right here in Oregon, Giant Sequoia, Sweetgum trees, and American Sycamore. As seeds, they rode along the Artemis 1 mission to circle the moon. Since coming back to Earth, the seeds were germinated to test if there were any effects from being in space. As a participant in this project J. Herbert Stone nursery may have sent up Douglas Fir seeds but was given Sweetgum seeds in return. Now a couple years old, these trees are doing fantastic. They are a couple feet tall with many large leaves. It was hard to fathom that these trees were once in space!
National Public Lands Day (NPLD), according to the National Parks Service website, “is [an event] organized annually and led by the National Environmental Education Foundation, in partnership with the National Park Service and other federal agencies.” The day involves, “…hundreds of thousands of volunteers roll[ing] up their sleeves to help restore and preserve public lands of all types and sizes…” including our National Forests. This event, celebrated annually on the fourth Saturday of September, gives an opportunity for the public to show an appreciation for the unique green spaces many of us use for recreation and our local flora and fauna call home.
The San Bernardino National Forest (SBNF) celebrated NPLD 2024 this year by organizing a volunteer restoration event held in partnership with the Southern California Mountains Foundation (SCMF) on Saturday September 28th. I was one of the staff members on hand facilitating this event alongside the volunteers, and I was so happy to be able to do so. It not only was a great way to personally reflect on my love for our public lands but to also get to share that passion and love with members of our local community.
Preparation for our NPLD volunteer event began two weeks prior with a scouting trip to several of our restoration sites in Miller Canyon a popular off-highway vehicle (OHV) spot east of Silverwood Lake State Recreation Area. Myself along side Koby Bench (SBNF restoration), Jorge Rodriguez (SBNF restoration/botany), Kimi Bechtol (SBNF recreation), and Lili Ortega (IERCD) identified a restoration site that seemed most friendly for volunteer work (i.e. relatively accessible for consumer vehicles and well shaded). Our site was located off forest service road 2N33, also known as Pilot Rock Truck Trail. This black oak woodland-meadow had been degraded due to heavy OHV use and intervention was needed in order to restore its historic beauty and ecologic function.
Restoration site for NPLD off forest service road 2N33 showing a degraded turn-off area likely due to OHV use (back left).
Continued preparation was needed to get the site ready for volunteers to help with the work to be done here. First, t-post fence was installed and slash (pieces of wood and other natural material spread to act as barriers preventing unauthorized use) was laid to prevent further OHV travel into the turn-off area. Scouting was also done of the surrounding plant communities to identify native species naturally present and get an idea of what plants we could pull from our nursery to begin to revegetate the area successfully and maintain the structure of the ecosystem. Some of the species we identified for restoration use in this area included California aster (Corethrogyne filaginifolia), Cobweb thistle (Cirsium occidentale), and rubber rabbitbrush (Ericameria nauseosa).
In order for plants to be put into the heavily compacted soil at this restoration site, holes had to be dug. With the help of the SCMF and a crew from the Urban Conservation Corp (UCC) we got to work using gas powered augers to begin the arduous process. We planned to drill at least 300 holes for out-planting, and in total that day with all the additional hands we were able to get 360 potential holes in the ground. Bamboo stakes were used to mark each out-planting hole after they were dug to help minimize the very real tripping risk created while they were empty. Ultimately, augering is sweaty work but it was made more enjoyable through the company of the crews from all 3 organizations coming together and collaborating toward a joint goal of preserving our public land, and this is the essence of what National Public Land Day is all about!
Images of Jorge Rodriguez and I preparing out-planting holes using gas-powered augers at the NPLD restoration site.
With the site itself prepared for our volunteers, we spent the following days filling the forest service vehicles with the necessary tools to make NPLD a success. Shovels, signs, golves, water tanks, EZ ups, folding tables, seed, and of course plants were loaded up prior to Saturday morning when we began meeting volunteers off highway 173 in Lake Arrowhead around 9am. In total approximately 36 people (excluding staff) showed up volunteering their time to show an appreciation for our public lands. Everyone was in good spirit (despite the many gnats harassing us as we talked) as we began to form a caravan of vehicles headed the short drive to our restoration site. Once at the site we did a safety talk and instructed them on the out-planting work we had planned for the day. Work began setting up the EZ ups for shade when breaks were required and setting up tables with clean gloves for everyone to grab in order to ensure the know pathogens were being introduced by us to the plants we could eventually spread them into the surrounding ecosystem. Plants were then unloaded from the trucks and placed still in their nursery bullets into their planned holes, a first introduction to their new homes outside of the forest service nursery in Big Bear.
Unloading California milkweed (Ascelpias californica) from the forest service truck bed alongside volunteer and staff waiting to grab additional trays of out-plants for our restoration site.
With all hands on deck the work of outplanting went fast. We planned to strategically put our less cuddly plants (Cobweb thistle and chaparral yucca) toward the perimeter closest to the roadside in order to further discourage activity in the area. The rest of the plants were randomly assigned spots within the restoration site. Planting occurred quickly with the amount of help we received. It was a pleasure to talk with volunteers about what they were planting and what had brought them out on that day and this all made the time fly by quickly. Plants were watered thoroughly to hopefully ease some of the stress of planting and a small lip (or berm) was left around the border of each plant to help the water to better saturate deep into the ground our plants now will be calling home.
Myself and Jorge Rodriguez planting into the restoration site (left) and an example of a successfully planted milkweed seedling (right)
The finishing touches had to be put onto the site before we could fully call it a day on our NPLD fun. We had prepared a native seed mix to be spread around the site (using some seed I personally collected just down the forest service road a few days prior). This mix contained only seed that had been sourced locally from Lake Arrowhead and was therefore genetically adapted to the area. Some of the species in the seed mix included: California buckwheat (Eriogonum fasciculatum), Interior goldenbush (Ericameria linearifolia), Wood’s rose (Rosa woodsii), and Sticky cinquefoil (Drymocallis glandulosa). A sign was also installed in the center of the site identifying the presence of sensitive species in the area and also marking it as a monarch habitat area due to the several milkweed species we planted there (Asclepias eriocarpa and A. californica). The day officially reached a conclusion with a delicious lunch of sandwiches (provided by SCMF) and some forest service goodies we handed out to the volunteers to thank them for all their hard work.
Lili Ortega and I spreading native seed mix throughout the restoration site (left) and the installed restoration sign identifying the area (right).
I was so thankful to be able to help with the organizing and implementation of this years NPLD event with the SBNF. With the help of volunteers from the public we were able to do in a day work that would have taken at least a week of visits if not more if we had to do it on our own. NPLD highlights the essential need for collaboration in restoration and conservation work. When you see a successfully restored area know that it is not the work of an individual but of a community of people rolling up their sleeves to preserve these areas for years to come!
As the weather starts to get colder, plants around Plumas National Forest have matured seed and are mostly now beyond the window of collection. This is not a problem for us as we’ve successfully collected from all of our target populations! Besides a couple of final population checks, September has been characterized by time in the office, preparing all of our seeds for their hopefully big and bright futures.
As we had some of the materials and certainly the time, our mentor thought it would be best for us to clean the seeds ourselves rather than send them to an extractory like Bend. There was a lot to go through, but I agreed it would be a good experience and satisfying to participate in another section of these seeds’ journey. Due to the dry environment here, we left all the cleaning to be done at the end of the season. Collected seeds were stored with their chaff in paper bags around the office and did not seem to be impacted by mold or too much additional pest pressure. This meant that at the start of September, we had a mountain of work to do.
For most species, the bulk of the cleaning was done using four different-sized, specialized seed-cleaning sieves. Taking the seeds and the sieve to a picnic table outside, we would run everything through the sieves until most of the chaff that weren’t the same size as the seeds, were filtered out. From there, relying on the predictable early afternoon breeze, we would pour the remaining seeds and chaff from one container to another to blow away the excess. Typically, the chaff is lighter than the seeds so it would be caught in the wind and blow outside the confines of the container while the seeds would fall straight down. However, we had to be careful as an occasional strong gust of wind could blow everything away. Once the seeds were filtered to a satisfactory level (nobody’s perfect), we transferred them to a sealable plastic bag for longer term storage. Next the bags were weighed and PLS estimates were generated using our cut test data, single seed mass, and bag weights adjusted for the amount of chaff still remaining. These bags will soon go into storage and hopefully be used in restoration projects in the near future!
Sieve set-up with a nice half filtered mound of Monardella ordoratissimaA huge mountain of all of our cleaned Veratrum californicum seedsTwo trays of Wyethia mollis seeds that gave me countless splinters while cleaningThe so so so so tiny little small seed of Spiraea douglasii. The scope was necessary for cut tests.
Besides seed cleaning, there were other various office tasks to be done. Bit by bit, we had been mounting our voucher specimens, organizing our data, and slowing assembling our final report. Office days feel much longer than field days, and I certainly miss going out into the woods to explore on such a regular basis. But the organizational side of me enjoys checking off to-do lists and slowly filling out the all-important data sheet entitled: “Plumas NF Seed Collection Data 2024 UNOFFICIAL VERSION”. Official version soon to come. As I am writing this, the checklist is almost complete and the spreadsheet is almost filled. This chapter is coming to a close. It may be sad to leave but I am excited for the next adventure.