We’re officially into the hot and dry season here in Northeast Wyoming. The weather is hot (90’s most days) and dry, with regular afternoon thunderstorms. Nearly all of the plants we are monitoring have dried out, gone to seed, cured, or in other words died for the season. New challenges to AIM monitoring are presented by this late summer climate. First, we always have to be on the lookout for fire danger or rapidly changing weather. This particular lightning-caused fire blew up in less than an hour, and was only a few miles north of our site that day!

More commonly, our main challenge is identifying plants that have cured out, gone to seed, dried, or in other words “died” for the year. A lot of brown, brittle grasses tend to look the same, and some days it takes a few minutes to identify a plant we’ve been looking at all summer long. A few plants are still blooming, such as this yellow flax and the plains milkweed, but for the most parts are sites are dead and dying.

However, gaining elevation as a person moves up the mountains seems to take them back in time. At 7,000 feet the mountain meadows are featuring similar plants we saw blooming on 5,000ft BLM land in June. Up in the alpine zone, the main summer plants are in full bloom, taking advantage of the warmest parts of the summer before they are buried under snow in roughly a month. These sedums are in full bloom at roughly 10,000 feet, and the parry’s primrose is claiming its spot at 12,000 feet, among rocks where few other plants dare to grow.

The transition this time of year from the brown, smoking lowlands to the bright happy meadows of the alpine is amazing to witness. One of my favorite parts of studying plants is watching these phenological changes happen as the summer goes on!

However, for work this means our plant monitoring is almost done. As our crew finishes AIM for the season, we are becoming experts at identifying dead sticks. 🙂

This week marked our last days of the field season. Having spent the previous three months digging 44 soil pits, locating 44 plot centers in the remote reaches of the Buffalo Field Office, establishing 132 transects and identifying the grasses, wildflowers, shrubs, and trees along each of them, and spending hours upon hours driving, I will truly miss our time outside. Now begins the real work: data entry.

Enjoying one of our final sites before the end of the field season. From the left: Amiah Warder (CLM Intern), Dominic Jandrain (BLM Hydrologist), and Camille Rodriguez (CLM Intern).

Oh, is it brutal. Alas, if data are to be collected, they must eventually be stored properly. We will be spending the next week or so organizing every piece of datum we’ve collected this summer in a way so that they will be easy to find and navigate through. This involves going through each of our plot photos (there are 176 photographs total) into digital folders also containing scanned copies of our field data forms. We will also need, after entering our data into the Database for Inventory, Monitoring and Assessment (DIMA), to generate DIMA reports for other employees at our Field Office. Unfortunately, we’ve spent the entire field season entering our data into an outdated version of DIMA, and to generate the final reports we need, the newest version is required. This is where we’ve hit our most significant roadblock, but we will overcome. First, coffee. And I suppose a picture of a lake since it’s the only other photograph I have currently.

Lava Lake located in Gallatin Nat’l Forest, Montana. Just a drive and a hike away from Buffalo, Wyoming.

Once we get through this period of our internship, only one month will remain of my time in the Buffalo Field Office. Five months never sounded like an especially long time to me, but even so it is remarkable how quickly my time in Wyoming has flown by. This has been an invaluable experience for me thus far. I’ve expanded my resume, and I’ve gotten to live in a beautiful place surrounded by endless outdoor opportunities. I can only hope my next work experience is just as memorable.

Howdy! (I’ve adopted saying howdy, I kind of really like it)

Anywho, greetings from Bishop, CA. My time here is over and I cannot believe how quickly its passed! The weeks have gone by in a blur. The goals I had at the start of my internship have been fulfilled and my hours of funding are all gone. Reflecting on my time out here I just can’t believe the experiences I’ve had. Getting caught in the loudest thunderstorms I’ve ever been under. The 3 am alarms to get up and go count sage grouse in the freezing cold. Stopping for snacks and Mono Market and ice cream at the Mono Cone. Chasing horny toads around in the Volcanic Tablelands. Almost getting the truck stuck, many times. Being miserably hot and sweaty in the beating sun. Falling into the slough at Fish Slough. Seeing absolutely stunning landscapes ranging from the driest deserts to dense pine forests all set in the foreground of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. I wouldn’t like to remember it any other way.

Working out here, in the middle of nowhere, has taught me many new skills but also about myself. I now know I can work about 40 hours a week alone and be in the field alone and get my work done and enjoy it too. I was hesitant about doing field work alone all day everyday, I was afraid of snakes or twisting my ankle and getting stranded in the middle of the desert. But as I got out more and more my confidence grew and I realized it’s really not as scary as it seemed. I also learned sooooo much about plants. I’m way better at keying out plants using the Jepson in part to the classes I was able to attend but also just from practicing it over and over (I’m especially good with the Chaenactis genus!). And of course there are the bonus skills I’ve acquired, the ones I really never thought I would learn- I can confidently drive the largest the largest truck you’ve ever seen, cut down trees, and fix a break in a barbed wire fence.

Starting this internship was exciting and nerve wracking. I was so stoked to get a cool position in a cool location even if it meant moving away from my home by the beautiful ocean and all my closest friends. I didn’t really know what to expect, I just knew I would be collecting seeds and learning about plants. So I guess my exceptions were met… but then I was able to participate in all these other amazing and unexpected things. I learned a bit about a lot of different things like wildlife, archaeology, and range.

I’ve had a great time out here and I know that because of how insanely fast time has flown.

I’m just going to photo dump, just thinking they’re worth a share!

Shipping off some seed collections!

So many Hymenoclea salsola v. salsola seeds!!!!

Cute little horny toad! (not actually toads)

Grouse poop looks like white cheeto puffs

Lupinus odoratus was going crazy this summer

It’s the arch you can see mount whitney through in the alabama hills

Working in a meadow to redirect water off the road!

So long Bishop!!!<3 And farewell to the Bureau of Land Management, it’s been very real.

Brittany Betz

BLM, Bishop, CA Field Office

One of our monitoring sites – now all dried up

Ever since we got back from the workshop everything here has really dried up. Most plants here are dry, brown and past flowering.

So we’ve been shifting into more range work like checking livestock use and range improvements. Now that everything has dried up, fire season has really begun. At any time a lightning strike or a spark could start a fire and then half the office has to run off and go fight it. A couple of weeks ago, a fire came within a mile of the office and burned almost 30,000 acres. By the end of the day we could see the flames from the office!

Antelope Fire

Now we’re chasing spring into higher elevations where the plants are still alive and in some cases where the snow has yet to melt! This is great because we’re getting to discover some of the most beautiful parts of the district and some of my favorite places in Idaho.

Quigley Canyon near Hailey, Idaho

Mount Harrison, Sawtooth National Forest

Castilleja christii

Recently, we got to help Idaho Natural Heritage monitor an endemic species of paintbrush (Castilleja christii) which is only found on one mountain in the world! It is only found here because this mountain is sky island – a mountain that is like an island because it is surrounded by different habitat, preventing gene flow. Like many alpine species, this makes Christ’s paintbrush especially vulnerable to climate change because it is unable to move north as the weather warms.

Other CBGs enjoying the last bit of snow

Though I am a GIS intern, my awesome mentor has always been quick to help me find opportunities to leave my desk and get some experience out in the field. I’ve gone out and collected seeds. I have tagged fence line and done Wild Horse surveys, but the most memorable and exciting instances, I’ve had was an annual multi-part Columbia Spotted Survey along Dry Creek in Malheur County, Oregon.

I was able to participate in 2 of the 3 parts of the survey that happen annually for these frogs. It’s a project to monitor the survival and recruitment rate of Columbia Spotted Frogs by USFWS in collaboration with the BLM. This Dry Creek population is isolated, so the USFWS takes special notice of these frogs.

The first survey occurs in in April and consists of trekking downstream and counting the number of egg masses. I just missed this survey, as it was the same month I had started working.

The second survey occurs in June. I along with some really cool people from the ODFW, USFWS and the BLM, split into teams, started at opposite ends of the creek, and worked our way down, catching spotted frogs, scanning them for pit-tags and administering tags to frogs that didn’t have them. Then you do the other half of the stream the next day, to try and catch frogs that might have missed or overlooked by the other team. It was so much fun!

Armed with pit tag readers (the same machines that recognize pet microchips), scissors, rulers, weigh bags and scales, we hiked up and down Dry Creek for a full two days, swinging and swooping our nets, trying to keep our footing in a rocky stream. It took a surprising amount of team work and strategizing to catch as many frogs as possible. A lot of them could feel you coming and try and make a hop for it, so you would have to think about the best approach to catching that frog(s).

Once you caught a frog in your net, you had to catch it again in your hand. They could bounce all around in your net like a ping-pong ball, some even had the ups to jump clear out of your net! It took some finagling and dexterity, but once it was in your hand, you held it by its legs, measured it from snout to cloaca, weighed it, then scanned it for a pit-tag, if it had one then you’re done (after shouting out the pit tag number and measurements) and if not, then you make a small incision on its back, insert the pit-tag, and then you’re done (after shouting out all the measurements and pit tag number for the data recorder).

(Columbia Spotted Frog)

The final survey takes places in August and consists mostly of a count for metamorphs. Metamorphs are tadpoles that are in transition to become frogs. It was funny though because I was expecting to see tadpoles with hind legs, but because of the time of year we survey, we’re actually on the tail-end of most of the metamorphic period. Though tadpoles for the most part are done transitioning, it’s still obvious which ones are “metamorphs” . They’re noticeably smaller than sub-adults and adults, so for the survey we literally walk along the stream counting “metamorphs” out loud, while the numbers are recorded by a data recorder. We also take the time to catch any adults we see (there’s a lot less around then there were in June), and repeat the process of what we did in June. We only count the “metamorphs” because they’re too small for pit tags, but don’t get it twisted. It’s still a pretty tough job, these frogs blend in incredibly well, and we were counting the smaller ones!

(Here is a little metamorph that still had his tail)

(Metamorph vs Sub-Adult vs Green Gunk)

The Dry Creek area is great, very pretty, and doing frog surveys in the middle of the summer is amazing, because as hot as it may be, you will get wet, so there is always an opportunity to cool off. Actually one of the best parts about the trek down the creek, is coming along The Pinch, a spot where the water is at least 4 feet high and surrounded on either side by rock walls. You could go around, if you really didn’t want to be drenched from the shoulder down, but who wouldn’t in the June/August heat?

(A picture of our team after wading through The Pinch)

(Dry Creek)

It was also great, because a lot of the views were made even better by the wildlife. We saw garter snakes everywhere. I even got to catch one! We could tell that this particular garter snake had eaten recently, and though it wasn’t frog shaped, we wanted to scan it, to see if had a pit tag inside of it (it didn’t). In June, we walked through this canyon that was filled with Cliff Swallows, flittering around, only to come through and later be screamed at by a Red-tailed Hawk because we were too close to her nest.

(You can see the food bulge, right under my thumb)

(Cliff Swallows)

Almost 6 months have past since the beginning of my internship here in Carson City, Nevada. It feels more like 6 weeks, but I knew this would happen. Four day work weeks packed with seed collections, traveling and anything else that may pop up on our schedule, paired with adventure-filled weekends at Lake Tahoe, create an atmosphere where days seem like hours and minutes seem like seconds. My crew and I are here until the middle of November, and we intend to make the most of what little time we have left.

I am used to a gradual shift in climate as the seasons change in eastern half of the United States. Brisk autumn days slowly morph into chilly winter nights while the mesophytic hardwood forests undergo their annual transformations as their leaves senesce. The seasons are more static here; one can expect identical conditions day after day for a given time frame. However, it seems that the transition from winter to spring or summer to fall is more sudden. I am going to miss the myriad of colors the deciduous forests boast in mid fall, but I cannot wait to experience my favorite time of the year in the Sierras.

Our team has, aside from a few species, hit a wall making SOS collections. These late summer months have been equal parts scouting as much as collecting. However, most asters seed late, so the bulk of our collecting has yet to come.

In other news, my team and I were just enlisted in a Rapid Vegetation Assessment course at UC Davis’s Bodega Marine Laboratory. It is a three day course but we are going to turn it into a week long vacation. I am so excited to finally see the redwoods, explore San Francisco and discover the diversity of Point Reyes National Seashore (not to mention the ocean breakers colliding with the rocky cliffsides).

Pedicularis groendlandica

A view atop Mt. Rose

Until next time,

Jason Fibel, Carson City District Office – BLM

Alyssa and I are officially half way through our time here in Sparks, NV. We have FINALLY found Erigeron speciosus. We have plenty of populations to collect from and will hopefully finish that task this week. It is such a relief to be able to move on and complete that goal! We are incredibly familiar with the upper east side district of Mountain City and Jarbidge and are completely spoiled by the camping accommodations there. Wild Horse State Recreation Area is beautiful at sunset.
Our mentor, Dirk, keeps us involved in the daily tasks of a Forest Botanist. Last week, he let us sit in on a meeting between the Nature Conservancy, USFS, Bureau of Land Management and Fish and Wildlife. Witnessing great minds from all these different institutions work towards a common goal is really inspiring. We are also involved in the discussion of protocols. We will also be preparing a presentation for our USFS office in Sparks as well as traveling to Utah in September to present to the National Botanist. As intimidating as this is, it will be a great opportunity to spread the word about SOS as well as work on my presentation skills.
We are not having great luck with our work trucks, though. Our first was taken away for a different project (intern problems) and unfortunately, as we were heading out into the field, our second truck was hit. So, third truck is a charm, right?
Last week, we traveled to Bridgeport in California and helped the wildlife biologist in our office search for tadpoles and baby toads and frogs in known breeding areas. Mostly, we were searching for the Yosemite toad. Apparently I have an eye for toads and frogs, who knew? I really enjoyed getting a break from plants (just a small one). Bridgeport and the Tahoe meadows are my two favorite places to go. Near the beginning of our internship, the meadows were still covered and snow, and now we can walk all of the paths and explore so many areas!

Beautiful waterfall views around 9500 ft

That is it for now, hope everyone is enjoying their summer!

-Payton Kraus
Sparks, NV

For the last few weeks Payton and I have been monitoring the main priority species for the Nevada USFS and that is Erigeron speciosus, otherwise known as Showy Fleabane. We hope to collect from at least 10 different populations so the Forest Service geneticist can obtain a clear picture of biodiversity withing the species. After we collect enough seed from these populations (crossing my fingers), we will begin to scout for other wide-ranging species for restoration efforts.

Erigeron speciosus, exhibiting different phases of phenology around the end of July

The beginning of this post doesn’t seem like time is against us, but I haven’t really got into the shenanigans that Payton and I have been up to these past few weeks… we are currently on our third USFS government vehicle. The first one… well the side passenger mirror got taken clear off (I won’t get into much about that). The second… we got struck by an oncoming vehicle at a major intersection. We hope that third trucks a charm right?

I am so grateful no one was hurt.

Once we got back out in the field with our third truck, E. speciosus fruit was still not mature and most of the plants had yet to desiccate and form seed (seen in first picture). Our wait for these populations to mature was not wasted! We were invited by our mentor and another employee of the USFS to visit the Bridgeport district in California. The elevation increased by about 2000 ft and we felt the effects quite strongly. Fatigued and fighting gnarly headaches, we still trudged through squishy meadows looking for Yosemite toads, either as tadpoles or in their first year. I enjoyed looking for something that has legs!

Can you spot the Yosemite toad?

Scenic overlook in the Bridgeport District, CA

If you were to drive the long and rolling desert highways of Eastern Oregon, you may assume the landscape, while pleasant to look at, is rather repetitive and monotonous. At first glance, it would be easy to make this assumption; however, you would be mistaken. While the views from the main roads offer vistas of rust-colored dirt covered buttes, speckled with sage brush and juniper, it is the back-roads where the true beauty lies.

In my current internship, I am working for the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), in Burns, OR. The BLM is responsible for large swaths of public-lands, including the lands’ resources, ecology, recreation opportunities, and roads. There is a hierarchy of road types for the BLM out here. You have your classic good-ol’-American paved road (typically of the asphalt of composite-pavement variety), the highly-prevalent gravel road, and the country dirt road (which brings to mind, John Denver). With these being the majority of roads anyone would dare venture their car onto, the hierarchy actually descends further into categories of things that could be only be called “roads” by a stretch of the imagination. Despite this, they served a purpose at one time or another, and as a result, the BLM has them mapped as passible routes, known as “back-roads”. Within the lower Order of back-roads there is the “two-track. A two-track is formed when a car (more likely something in the ball-park of a Ford-150) drives through vegetation and leaves an imprint of two tire tracks. These two parallel lines are re-enforced with each additional car that follows the route. No matter how faint or prominent a two-track may be, they are usually littered with rocks, commonly washed out and eroded, and are full of sharp turns to avoid large obstacles. Two-tracks can widely vary in quality and are a bit unpredictable, causing a certain level of stress in drivers when forced to navigate them. Lastly there is a “vanished-road”. These occur when dirt-roads or two-tracks go unused for long periods of time, causing nature to reclaim them. These can be small sections, or an entire road, depending on the level of reclamation. These are typically unexpected and either force the driver to turn around to find an alternative route, or challenge the driver to push-ahead, and go off-roading in hopes of reconnecting with a discernable road.

During this internship, my partner and I have had to traverse all of the above-mentioned roads. On multiple occasions, we have even mistook cattle-trails as legitimate roads and followed them for a good-while before realizing our mistake. Having become coinsures of the various roads out here, my partner and I feel, while not the most efficient, it is the back-roads where the real fun is. They often take you to areas of extreme beauty and little development. It is on these roads we have passed through gorges, drove along-side packs of wild horses, snuck up on deer, and just relaxed. In a way, navigating a back-road is a practice in deep-relaxation. You may come at it head-strong and stubborn, but driving fast on a back-road will only guarantee two things: damage to your car and damage to your head when you hit a dip and bounce up into your car-roof. Back-roads force you to take it slow and drive deliberately. This is when animals come near your car, this is when you see small ponds and secret-routes you wouldn’t have otherwise noticed, this is when the beauty of the desert reveals itself to you.

-Carter Cranberg (Burns-Hines, OR – Field Office)