Happy New Year! The past month has flown by quite quickly, much to my dismay, since that means less time left in the internship. I was very grateful to be able to travel home for the holidays – I got to see my family, my dog, and a little bit of snow!
In the past month we’ve collected a lot of new data, which has given us much to do in terms of data entry. Near the end of December we completed an entire greenhouse assessment of the Joshua trees, which consisted of us checking each individual plant band to see whether a seed has grown, and if so, how many blades it has and the overall health of it. Even though we’ve been working with the Joshua trees a lot and have been seeing them pop up above the soil, I was still very shocked to find out that we have over 1,600 plants currently alive! The health and number of blades varied a lot, since seeds were planted at different times (some have been growing since September), but this assessment should give us an idea of which matrilines have been more successful in the greenhouse, which will aid us in future planting in the common gardens. From our minimal amount of data, we have noticed that one population in particular has not been very successful in the greenhouse (it currently only has 25 successful seeds, compared to other populations with 100+), which could potentially correlate to the conditions that seed is genetically attuned to – maybe it is meant to thrive in conditions that are colder or have a higher altitude? Maybe it finds the greenhouse to be too humid? This data could help the researchers understand why certain populations are more successful in certain gardens (and in the greenhouse) than others.
Two seeds were planted in the same plant band, and both have successfully sprouted!
We’ve also made another monthly visit to the 3 common gardens to check on the Joshua trees that are out in the wild. It has rained a couple of times in the past month, which was evident when we went to the gardens! I saw many plants that were putting out tiny new blades (so small that I almost didn’t notice them and had to touch them to make sure they weren’t just a shadow). Other plants still seemed a little heat stressed, with leaf margins that were furled inwards, which could be a reaction from the summer heat that is still noticeable now. We luckily haven’t seen any active rodent herbivory, which would mean setting up traps, but have seen signs of insects – we are slowly trying to learn the difference between grasshopper and ant herbivory.
A fully grown Joshua tree near the Cactus Mine garden
These assessments and garden visits have given us a lot of data, which has provided us quite the opportunity to learn more about how this data is going to be used and what it could signify. It’s been very interesting to think deeper about the research and to consider how the data needs to be set up to make future statistical analysis more efficient and seamless. Maddy and I text Lesley, our mentor/the PI on this project, quite a bit when entering data to double check that we’re formatting it correctly, whether we need more columns or rows, and whether we need to include past data points on our current Excel spreadsheet. I’ve learned to think about it in terms of how the data will be used in the future – do we need to include past data in case of future analysis of trends for these plants? I tend to write a lot of notes when looking at the plants – will these notes be superfluous or could that data be helpful?
Overall, I’ve still been really enjoying the area! Maddy and I have been hiking every weekend, we camped in Death Valley (which taught us how cold it gets in the desert at night), and we plan to camp in Zion soon. I’m already growing quickly attached to the mountains, and hope that in the future I will still be in an area that has such accessible and beautiful hiking trails.
Maddy and I at the entrance to Death Valley! We walked along the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes in Death Valley – it felt like we were in a movie!
How has it been over a month already? I have no idea. Time flies when you’re getting settled into a new place, a new job, and have so much exploring to do outside of work, too!
Here is a pic of Bridget & I doing just that! Exploring! –Death Valley National Park–
The past few weeks have had a heavy focus on data entry. We’ve needed to enter our records from the assessments we do at the gardens each month that rate the health status (1-3) and herbivory severity (1-5), as well as record the number of live blades each plant has, number of dead blades, and any notes.
That small light-colored trail near my finger tip is what ant herbivory looks like!
At the Cactus Mine and Ridgecrest gardens, the assessment doesn’t take very long between Bridget and I because many of the plants didn’t survive – there are only 23 seedlings still alive at Cactus Mine and 20 at Ridgecrest. Meanwhile, the Utah garden has a whopping 284 seedlings that are alive and —for the most part—well! This does mean a lot more crouching or kneeling, back up to standing, then shifting over to the next plant, and back down again, for Bridget and I as we assess about 140 plants each! Although it’s more uncomfortable for a longer period, it’s exciting to have one of the gardens flourishing! We are thinking the trees are doing so well here because it gets the most rain and is also the coolest out of the three. At the other end of the spectrum, Ridgecrest is the hottest and driest.
one happy plant at our flourishing Utah garden 🙂
Joshua Tree seeds have evolved to rely upon rains to germinate, which makes sense why the wettest garden would be performing the best. Unfortunately, looking at current and predicted climate trends, this is concerning because these rains that the Joshua Trees depend on to create new generations are not happening as often. Nevada officially declared a drought in 2002 that has continued to current times. Drought.gov provides information on current and historical (since 2000) drought conditions: currently, 68.1% of Nevada is in a severe drought, 24.2% is in extreme drought, and 7.5% is classified as exceptional drought.
Coming from a place of excess water, the idea of droughts and declining water source levels scares me. Along with this comes frustration that we are not doing enough to reduce water usage. At the individual level, around Las Vegas/Henderson/Boulder City, some houses have grass-covered lawns –one right outside of work even has sprinklers spraying their grass. It would be much better if they planted more native desert species and removed water-consuming grass. At the industry level, resorts use a lot of water mostly from hotel guests, who use more than 63 gallons per day on average, according to this article by Sam Bruketta, 2020. Although many resorts have been working to reduce water usage, such as MGM Resorts, which has reduced water use by 25% since 2007 (Bruketta, 2020). However, a truly unnecessary use of water is the Bellagio Resort fountains, which have been scrutinized for losing about 12 million gallons per year from evaporation (Bruketta, 2020). A different type of industry, is one of the biggest sinks of water, from watering grass on a larger scale than the individual homes mentioned earlier: golf courses. According to the Las Vegas Water District website, golf courses in Southern Nevada use an average of 725 acre-feet per year. My brain has a hard time imagining what this means… The Water Education Foundation website states that one acre-foot is approximately 326,000 gallons of water, and would cover one football field in a foot of water. So, for a visual of what an average Las Vegas golf course would use in a year, it would be enough to fill a 725 foot deep, football field-sized swimming pool! That is an insane amount of water.
The site also mentions that California households use about ½ – 1 acre-feet of water on average per year: about 163,000-326,000 gallons of water per year, each. That estimate brought my thoughts to the lifestyle I had this summer while living in a dry cabin in the woods of Alaska where I was working at the time. I’d never heard of a dry cabin before starting my housing search, but it was the cheapest option —for good reason— because they are cabins without running water, which means no toilet, no shower, no faucets of any kind. I was scared to live like that for three months having never been in a situation like that (besides short term circumstances when camping out for a few days). However, it made me realize how much water I use and waste under normal circumstances with the luxury of indoor plumbing —leaving the water running while washing hands, doing dishes, taking showers, or even flushing the toilet— everything!
this is my adorable little dry cabin in the woods that I miss!
How the water situation worked in a dry cabin, was we had two clear, five-gallon jugs that we’d fill up at the water-filling station in town, and set up on the counter over the sink which drained into a five-gallon bucket that we’d dump outside. And unfortunately, we did have a few times when we didn’t realize the bucket was nearly full, and spilled over some foul smelling water with chunky food bits/oily residue onto the floor as we scooted it out from under the counter to dump… Aside from those “oh crap” moments, overall, living in a dry cabin really wasn’t so bad!
With the goal being to take as few trips as possible to the water filling station; using as little water as possible to wash hands, do dishes etc. was the primary way to achieve this. We were so careful to reuse water when possible and use the bare minimum amount we could to get the job done. Although I dreaded the idea of living in a dry cabin at first, I’m so glad I had that experience to teach me so much about conserving water, which I’ve tried to hold with me since then. It makes me wonder if everyone lived like that for even one week, what difference it could make on our water usage overall in the US, especially in dry regions like this, where we need to be doing more.
Hello! My name is Maddy Czymmek, and I’m one of two new interns with the Chicago Botanic Garden at the Boulder City USGS office. I’m working on the Joshua Tree Genome Project to understand how Joshua Trees are responding to climate change.
This is me! (taken on a weekend trip working in Alaska this summer)
After a 36 hour drive from my hometown: Ithaca, New York, it was a week of adjustments (which was to be expected from moving across the country)!
In the past, when I’ve been driving to a new place and the scenery starts to change, excitement comes over me. 20 or so hours into my road trip, it finally started happening, after the flat landscapes of western Oklahoma, southern Texas and Eastern New Mexico finally started to change. First with a few distant plateaus, then the Sandia Mountains ahead of me that I soon caught up with. As the sun set, I kept peaking in my rearview mirror, watching the cloudless sky become a light pink; the mountains a pale purple. The following evening, I had a similar feeling of awe. This time, I was nearing the Black Mountains bordering Arizona and Nevada. I came around a bend and the view opened up to a sea of purple mountains, various shades of purple waves stretching out to the horizon. The sun was setting again, creating a hazy, endless look to the mountains around me. So there was that feeling again. Entranced by this beautiful view. And excited that this was part of my new home that I’d get to explore for the next 6 months!
The landscape here is such a change from upstate New York’s lakes and rolling hills covered with a mix of farmland and forests. Looking around the area, it holds so much I know nothing about: the geology of the mountains and rock formations and so many plants I’ve never seen before that I want to be able to identify. Although my main internship project is focused on Joshua Trees, learning about desert ecosystems and whatever I can about the greater Las Vegas and Mojave Desert region, including issues related to climate change, water scarcity, and land degradation are also a priority for me. Living here and exploring is a learning experience on its own.
Me snapping pictures at Red Rock Canyon outside of Vegas!
So here I am, nearing the end of week 3. My co-intern, Bridget, and I are getting into the workflow of greenhouse seedling maintenance and checking the incubating seeds. The seeds are separated by matriline onto petri dishes and kept in the incubator while waiting for them to germinate. For anyone unfamiliar with what a matriline is: for this project, groups of related seeds from separate geographical locations were collected and are referred to as different matrilines. It’s been interesting to note differences among the matrilines even at the seed stage. One group in particular has shown noticeably slow germination, has had many seeds develop a cloudy sheen and yellow leakage underneath them, and multiple seeds that have germinated have had drooping or even mushy radicles –not to mention the rancid smell when we take the lid off the petri dish! On the other end, some have been producing beautiful radicles that are long and sturdy with root hairs.
A Joshua Tree seedling with water droplets after watering
This week, we were able to visit the Cactus Mine Garden (about 30 minutes from Boulder City) and the Ridgecrest Garden (about 4 hours from Boulder City)! I’ve always thought it was cool that there’s so much public land out West, while most of NY is covered in “No Trespassing” signs. But especially with Covid, they are noticing an increase in land use and degradation. That was clear at Cactus Mine, where there were ATV and motocross tracks across the land, trash –even a deserted jet ski– and holes in the garden fence from people shooting at it. I’m not sure what could help improve land stewardship practices, but it was disheartening to see. Not only is it frustrating for maintaining the garden, but also the surrounding habitat that is broken up and disturbed by this destruction and trashing.
Cactus Mine Garden
To avoid ending on a heavy note, we got some rain in the desert this week! I’m not sure if I’ve ever been excited for rain in my life (back home, we usually get enough rain and cloudy days that it’s typically not something I look forward to). However, in the desert, especially since this area has been in a long drought, it actually felt like something to celebrate! We’re hoping that if we keep getting some rain, the wildflowers will pop for us in the spring, fingers crossed!
Hi! My name is Bridget Hennessy, and I’m a CLM intern working in Boulder City, Nevada! I moved here about three weeks ago, and have quickly adjusted to life here in Nevada. Being from Michigan, it has been quite the change of species, scenery, and weather. It’s truly amazing to be surrounded by mountains! It’s also truly odd to be experiencing warm weather in December!
I’m working on the Joshua Tree Genome Project, which is a USGS research project focused on how Joshua trees respond to climate change. So far I’ve been helping in the lab, greenhouse, and common gardens. In the lab, my co-intern, Maddy, and I care for germinating Joshua tree seeds – making sure they have water in their petri plate and aren’t molding, and watching to see when they germinate. There are around 20-25 seeds per petri plate and, with all the moisture, it’s easy for the seeds to mold. Thankfully they are being kept at the right temperature, so it is also easy for them to germinate! Once seeds have a nicely-sized radicle (or primary root) we plant them in the greenhouse into plant bands. These plant bands and crates were set up before we arrived, so our main job has just been planting more germinated seeds and watering the Joshua trees. We have learned to balance the moisture level between plants, since new transplants need to have more water than plants that have sprouted blades.
Joshua trees planted in the greenhouse
We’ve also been organizing and counting Joshua tree seeds that were previously collected into new batches for future planting. These seeds were collected from different trees in different areas, so they have different matrilines, different adaptations, and different abilities to survive in the common gardens. The three common gardens are set up in California, Utah, and Nevada, all so that the Joshua trees’ survival can be tested in a variety of temperatures, soils, altitudes, and precipitation levels. We visited all three gardens over the past week and a half to assess the previously planted Joshua trees, and it was so interesting! We counted how many blades each plant had, checked whether there were signs of herbivory, and scored the overall health of the plant. Seeing the gardens in person definitely helped me recognize the differences between them – the Nevada garden had the most signs of herbivory, the California garden had super dry and sandy soil, and the Utah garden had very soft, moist soil. I’m very excited to assess them again and see if the plants grow more!
One of the Joshua tree plants in the Utah garden – it is super healthy and is sprouting a new blade!
This week we’ve been setting up for planting the species Eriogonum fasciculatum into soil in the greenhouse. These plants were cuttings from larger plants in the Mojave, that were then placed in perlite and watered frequently. The cuttings have now grown roots and are ready to go in soil. We cleaned crates, set up plant bands, and added a soil mixture to each band. We have now moved on to the planting stage, and are working slowly and surely to make sure the delicate roots aren’t damaged in the planting transition. It’s cool to see the crates slowly start to fill up with plants!
Maddy, Sharon, Caitlin, and I planting the Eriogonum fasciculatum
After work it’s been great to hike and explore the Las Vegas area. Maddy and I have visited Red Rock Canyon and Arizona so far, and are planning to camp in Death Valley soon. The nature here is so different from what I’ve experienced, and I love being able to see new species and such rich geology. I can’t wait for what else is to come!
This last month has been quite the whirlwind! I spent most of it working with a desert plant named Eriogonum fasciculatum, a common shrub found all over the Mojave. This project had myself and my co-worker going every which way, from up on the Pacific Crest Trail to down into the depths of Death Valley! Meanwhile, the Joshua Tree seedlings in the greenhouse continued to grow, getting more and more leaves. As well, when I completed my last field assessment in Utah, some of the plants had over 15 leaves! A long way from the 1-3 leaves they had when planted some 8 months ago! One of the most rewarding parts of this project was watching that kind of change, both in the desert and in the greenhouse, happen in real time.
A robust JT in UT
With the Eriogonum project, we are aiming to collect cuttings from wild plants, grow new plants from the cuttings, and plant those cuttings in the same sort of gardens where we have the Joshua Trees. Just like the Joshua Tree project, these plants were found in all sorts of climate zones, meaning a spectrum of harshness for the parent plants. Interestingly, usually seeds are used for propagation with this species, but we decided to use cuttings instead. This is because flowering and producing seeds have become much more variable as the climate changes in the Mojave. This biome, already a very difficult place to survive, has become harsher and harsher with continuing droughts and intense heat. So, taking cuttings is a potential way to continue to reproduce this, and potentially other, species without having to collect seed. In fact, this project is the largest-scale cutting collecting effort of this species ever recorded in scientific literature (that I am aware of)! It is always really cool to be a part of something completely new in scientific research, especially one that could help of save more and more plant species as desert conditions worsen.
Eriogonum fasciculatum cuttings packed into a sterile perlite substrate. Each cutting has been treated with growth hormone to encourage rooting
As I write this last post, I am already back home in Virginia, enjoying what’s left of the fall foliage. It’s nice to be back home, but I will always look back on this amazing experience with USGS and CBG. I’ve seen so much more of this country and learned some much about professional field work and research than ever before in my life! Beyond being a really cool plant, the Joshua Tree will always hold a special place in my heart. The Joshua tree is such a biological marvel, so complicated and resilient. It and so many other facets of our world need to be studied and protected, and I am so glad I could help, even for just 6 months. I am so grateful to Lesley, Todd, Sarah, Alex, and Chris for helping with these new life/work experiences! Thank you anybody who’s been following along online, I hope you enjoyed my photos and writing! Below are a couple last photos from Nevada, the drive back home, and finally Virginia. Happy Holidays!
Burrowing Owl in Las Vegas (left) and Sandhill Crane in Bosque del Apache, NM (right)Great Blue Heron right by my house in Virginia
As my last days on the Monongahela came closer I started to do a lot of reflection on my experiences and time as a CLM intern. Making the decision to come to West Virginia was a big step in both my personal and professional life. When I first moved to West Virginia in May, it was less than a week after I graduated college. This fast transition from submitting my final assignments to starting to take my first steps towards building a post-grad career was overwhelming, but I don’t think I would have it any other way. In those few days, I was excited to begin my journey in my professional career, but was not sure what to expect. After looking back on my time here, I am happy to say that I have had so many accomplishments on both a professional and personal level during my time as a CLM intern.
My co-intern Katie and I after a long day in the field surveying for running buffalo clover!
To start, the professional experience I gained while being a CLM has been so beneficial towards allowing me to understand what I am interested in and what I want to do in my future. One of my favorite things from this past internship was being able to see and learn about the Forest Service. Growing up I was aware of National Forests, BLM, Fish and Wildlife, and National Parks, but never actually knew what they did or how they were all different. Being partnered with the Forest Service for this internship I had the opportunity to work with different people within the Monongahela and their partners to gain an inside look at the ways that people with different specialties are able to come together to conserve public lands. One of my favorite examples includes the restoration work on the old mined lands throughout the Monongahela. I have talked about the restoration process in previous blog posts, so I wont repeat myself, but when it comes to large scale restoration projects there are so many different aspects that have to be thought about before, during, and after. This means there has to be a diverse group of people collaborating in order to accomplish the projects. The forest service, specifically on the Monongahela, does a really good job at bringing together many different people with diverse backgrounds and continue to increase this collaboration through partnerships, contracts, and collaborations with non-profits, contracted companies, and Universities.
Another amazing thing I learned while doing this internship was not only does the Forest Service work to protect and restore the land, but they are also work hard to allow the public to enjoy and engage with this land. On example is the recreation team. While working with the recreation staff, I realized how much time goes into maintaining trails, campsites, and other public spaces to allow people to explore and embrace nature by hiking, camping, fishing, and hunting on the forest. Then there is the timber team that will harvest wood in certain parts of the forest. One example of this harvesting was on the red spruce restoration sites. When the old minded lands were originally restored the ground was densely compacted and planted with red pine and other trees that are not native to those ecosystems. So to start the restoration process the non-native trees needed to be removed or nocked down so the soil can be loosened and native trees like red spruce can be planted. One way of getting rid of them was by logging and selling these trees. It was a useful way to remove the trees to begin the process of restoring the land and also use the non-native trees in other ways.
One of my favorite photos of Katie and I working hard to survey for wetlands on the 2021 restoration site!
Not only did I learn a lot about the Forest Service, I also learned a lot about myself over the past six months. To start, living in West Virginia was a big change from the last two places that I have lived. I grew up in Phoenix Arizona, and went to college in Chicago, Illinois. Both of these places are urban and highly populated, where as Marlinton, West Virginia is almost the opposite with only a little over 1,000 people as the population. It was a big change and took me a little while to get used to the rural area, but it didn’t take me long to realize how great the community its and it quickly grew on me. Moving to new places are never easy, but having this experience to live in another state and completely different environment than I am used to showed me how adaptable I can be and how exciting new experiences and new places are. One of the things I liked the most about living in West Virginia has been the ability to be immersed in the outdoors. I was able to use my free time on the weekends to explore all around the Monongahela forest, but also other state parks in the area. Some of the cool places I was able to explore include Blackwater Falls, Watoga State Park, New River Gorge National Park and Preserve, Seneca State Forest, and other places around West Virginia. Being here for six months showed me just how much I enjoy activities like hiking and camping but also allowed me to learn some useful tips like doing research about a trail and taking the extra time to downloading the trail map is probably a good idea.
Watoga State Forest
Blackwater Falls State Park
New River Gorge National Park
Seneca Rocks
Falls of Hills Creek
Dolly Sods Wilderness
Highland Scenic Highway
Overall, this experience has allowed me to grow so much as an individual both personally and professionally.Which reminds me of one of my favorite John Muir quotes “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks”. Having this opportunity to be a CLM intern, I was able to be out in nature allowing me to learn what I expected to learn about the Forest Service and ways to conserve/manage public lands, but even more than I expected about myself. Being in nature and conserving our lands is something that I am really passionate about and showed me that botany, field work, restoration, and land management are things that I want to pursue in my future. I enjoyed West Virginia and being in Marlinton so much more than I could have ever imagined. I am sad to say goodbye. I never would have expected a small rural town in the middle of West Virginia to make me feel at home and be so difficult to leave. If there is one piece of advice I would give someone it would be to say yes to as many opportunities and experiences that you can, You never know where life will take you and what places you will enjoy the most. I never thought I would ever live somewhere like Marlinton, West Virginia, but it has been one of the best experience of my life. So thank you to everyone for their support and I cant wait to see where life takes me next.
In honor of Katie posting a selfie in front of the ranger station on her last post, here is one of me to keep the trend alive! Here is to a sad goodbye, but I am excited for a new beginning!
Well, it’s my last week in Winnemucca! As is always the way with time, six months have gone by awfully fast, while simultaneously containing so many experiences, new things learned, and good memories. It’s hard to say goodbye!
Characteristic northeast Nevada road with cool clouds
One of the things I learned here is that no matter where you go, you’ll be happy if you like the people around you. I really enjoyed the place and job besides that, but the people I met in Nevada, both on the job and off, are the most important thing! For someone like me who gets caught up in the doing, the planning and carrying out and accomplishing of goals, that’s a valuable reminder. These types of reminders often jump out at me more at the ends of things, like after graduating from high school, at the ends of sports seasons, when saying goodbye to friends for who knows how long. Similarly, it was really great at the end of this job to be reminded of all the people who have supported me this season, in Winnemucca, Reno, the CBG, and beyond. I’m very thankful for all of the people who showed me the ropes, were patient with me, gave me responsibilities and trusted me, brought me out in the field with them, and contributed to the sense of community I felt here.
My favorite picture of the rock wall and arch next to Hinkey Summit in the Santa Rosas
The Santa Rosa Ranger District Office is small but tight-knit and reminds me of the Forest Service office my dad works at on the Superior National Forest in northern MN, even though the two places are so far away. In my very first blog post I talked about how I was struck by the abundance of land to manage and work to be done, coupled with a lack of resources and people to work on all of it. After six months here, that is still my impression––and of course I’m realizing that this is not a problem specific to Nevada, but it’s the place where I gained a more firsthand awareness of this challenge (and it’s certainly pronounced here!).
I couldn’t leave town without taking a picture by the Winnemucca slogan sign––a motto only rivaled by that of Page, Nebraska (“You’ll like Page, we do”). Thanks to my housemate Ben for humoring me and taking the pic!
Thinking about land and land management in the Western U.S. was one of the many valuable learning experiences I gained from this job. I frequently think about whose land I’m on in a way that I did not before coming here. I also learned so much about what land management and conservation look like in the Western U.S., from the invasive plants that are a problem here to drought and fire challenges to the ways that different agencies work together to thinking about cattle and grazing and how important fostering good relationships with ranchers is…I think one hopeful thing is that a lot of stakeholders (federal and state agencies, NGOs, universities, private landowners like ranchers…) have common goals of being good stewards for this abundance of land. Every time I saw folks from different agencies collaborate during my job, they were so enthusiastic to compare notes, looking for ways to work together, share knowledge, and be on the same page.
I still remember how novel driving through downtown Winnemucca was on my first night in town, seeing so many casino lights. Now it’s a distinct skyline that I’ve come to love.
Collaborating with other people, be it other SOS interns, BLM, NDOW, NRCS, and beyond, was one of the highlights of my job as well, for the reasons mentioned above of watching people collaborate and for what I could learn from all of them about their respective jobs and the ecosystems we worked in, and in the case of the Reno SOS interns, become friends with them! I plan to stay in contact with many of the people I met over the course of my time here, and I hope to come back to the area to visit and will definitely look at some grad schools in the western U.S. when the time comes. I will miss the practical, kind and friendly people, the sunny summer, the low-to-the-ground, highly adapted vegetation, Nevada’s network of parallel mountain ranges, the sunrises and sunsets, the hot springs, my walks around Winnemucca, my coworkers and friends, and so much more about this place. I do feel like I’ve had an abundance of time to reflect on things, and I hope I’m taking full advantage of it because I really appreciate what the last six months have brought me. First post-undergrad job and life experience in the books, and it’s exciting to be thinking about all the future awesome things that could potentially happen, but also sad as always to look back on a good chapter that’s ending.
This decoration at my friend’s house in Winnemucca sums up the kinds of people I met out here (“Gracious living from out of the West” if it’s too blurry).
As I write this, the first snow of the year is falling outside. I’m sitting near the window of a coffee shop, watching the flakes swirl before melting on the wet pavement. Almost all the trees have lost their leaves now, and, in the mornings, there is frost before there is dew. It’s hard to believe this is my last blog post, but it also feels like field work is coming to its natural conclusion here in the Northwoods. Once again, the season is changing. In the meantime, though, there’s still much to do — projects to finish, harvests to reap, and preparations to make for the snow that will not melt when it hits the pavement.
It’s amazing how quickly the chill descended. We were lucky to have a long early-fall full of 70 degree weather and brightly colored leaves. My co-intern Tessa and I spent many days out in the forest treating invasive honeysuckle and buckthorn. I learned that in the fall you have to be particularly careful where you set down your tools because it doesn’t take much for them to get buried in a pile of leaves never to be seen again.
Throughout our internship at Ottawa National Forest, Tessa and I have gotten a chance to spend time with many different branches of the Forest Service, from marking trees with timber specialists to working on turtle conservation with wildlife technicians. Plants and animals aren’t the only creatures in the forest though. The Ottawa’s almost a million acres draws in people too. Recreation crews work hard to make sure the forest can be enjoyed by all. On Tuesday this week, Tessa and I got a chance to be a part of that, traveling to Black River Harbor to help out recreation team members Joe and Ali.
Black River Harbor is home to the Ottawa’s only Lake Superior shore line. It is also one of the most gorgeous places I have ever been. A giant suspension bridge crosses the rushing Black River, swaying in the wind just enough to make you nervous (even though you’re perfectly safe). The bridge leads to an expansive sandy beach with stones worn smooth by a lake so big other lakes think it must be the ocean. All summer, the shore is packed with people playing in the waves, building sandcastles, skipping rocks, and constricting a massive driftwood lean-to that has not yet toppled in the breeze.
The bridge at Black River Harbor
This is where the Ottawa’s recreation team shines. Whether it’s answering questions or saving the day with a truck bed full of toilet paper, they’re the face of the Forest Service and help ensure that the Ottawa’s wide swaths of public land are easily accessed and enjoyed by the very people they’re meant for, the public.
When we arrived at the harbor our first stop was the campground’s water building, or, more accurately, a small patch of trees right next to the water building. The campground has shut down for the season, so it’s a great time to do maintenance work there. After gathering around the truck to review the day’s safety considerations, Joe took Tessa and I a few dozen feet into the trees. We stopped at a tall aspen with a significant lean. Joe brushed aside some leaves and showed us a patch of raised ground at the base of the tree. That raise, he explained, was the root stock of the aspen ripping slowly but surely out of the earth. Joe, an experienced feller, would be taking the tree down to ensure the safety of the water building and more importantly the many campground visitors.
In order to take down the leaning aspen, two smaller aspen would also have to be cut, this would leave a clear path for the larger tree to fall. Joe explained that before any tree is cut there should be at least two clear paths for the sawyer (a fancy word for tree cutter) to enable a quick retreat without obstacles to slow them down or trip them up.
We helped clear logs and brush until the way was unobstructed. Then, Joe hit the tree with the dull side of a hatchet. A low “Thunk!… Thunk!… Thunk!” rang through the empty campground. That was good; The tree sounded solid and not rotten in the middle. Then, Tessa, Ali, and I got a safe distance away and put our ear plugs in.
As we watched Joe take down the trees, Ali explained to us some of the many intricacies of felling. Everything from the height of the tree, to the lean, to the species should be taken into consideration. There are almost as many different approaches to cutting a tree as there are scenarios you might encounter, and an experienced sawyer will be able to determine what they are working with and pick the right strategy for the job.
While Ali and Joe began cutting the freshly fallen trees into firewood, Tessa and I set out on our task for the day. We strapped leaf blowers onto our backs and went campsite to campsite clearing out a thick mat of freshly fallen leaves. I was surprised at how physically demanding the work was. Directing the leafblower forward felt like walking against a strong wind, probably because, in a roundabout way, that’s what it was. One by one we cleared the campsites, leaving them ready for visitors in the spring and eliminating the falling risk that comes with a blanket of slippery, decaying leaves.
I’ve been to many campsites, but I never stopped to consider how they are maintained. It always felt to me that they simply existed just as I encountered them, but did not grow and change like a forest does. Spending time with Joe and Ali showed me that they do grow and change and, just like the forest as a whole, benefit from being thoughtfully managed.
Our work at the campground on that chilly fall day reminded me of planting daffodil bulbs with my dad as a child. When the world was growing cold, we would tuck the bulbs safe beneath the soil. Nothing would happen for a long time. Finally, many months later when I had forgotten we ever planted flowers at all, green shoots would break through the last snowfall of the year. I won’t be around in the spring when the snow melts from the Black River Harbor campsites, but the work we did this fall will be there to greet the campsites’ first visitors.
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On a Friday morning, I scarfed down a bowl of oatmeal, threw some dried apricots in my lunchbox, and grabbed a blaze orange hat, before driving the short drive to the Ottawa’s Ironwood office. There, I met with Tessa and forest botanists Sue and Katherine. The morning was bright and crisp as we set out together into the field. Our mission for the day was to collect seeds from Ottawa’s native flowers for Project Wingspan.
Project Wingspan is an initiative supported by well over a dozen ecologically-minded partner organizations that have come together with the goal of increasing pollinator habitat in the Great Lakes region and broader midwest. One of the best ways to accomplish that goal is by propagating the native flowers that provide food and shelter for so many different pollen-minded friends. Seeds for the project are collected by specially trained naturalists all over the region, and, under Sue’s expert supervision, Tessa and I got to help.
After almost an hour of driving, we pulled up to a promising seed collection spot along the roadway. All year, various Forest Service field-goers recorded spots where they saw large populations of native flowers blooming. Now, those flowers have faded, but each location holds thousands of native seeds.
We walked along the road cutting off the spiky seed-heads of black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) and watching them fall into our brown paper bags. We were careful not to take too many seeds so that there are plenty left to keep the population healthy. After walking up and down the road, we pooled our collections in a big bag, labeled it, and stored it safely in the truck.
Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) with a striped garden caterpillar moth (Trichordestra legitima)
Next, we set our sights on grass-leaved goldenrod (Euthamia graminifolia). The seed-heads were much smaller on the goldenrod than the black-eyed Susan, so, if you got your thumb at just the right angle, you could brush many of them into your waiting paper bag at once. We made sure not to collect seeds from any of the flower’s many doppelgangers and avoided collecting from plants overshadowed by their taller cousins, lest unwelcome seeds drift into our bags to contaminate the bunch. The sun came out as we searched for plants and I held my hands high, warming them before bending down again to continue collecting.
By the end of the day we had big bags of seed from a motley medley of native flowers. We took the carefully labeled bags back to the office and laid them out to dry in tin foil pans scavenged through the years from office potlucks. Over the last few weeks the conference room has slowly been taken over with all sorts of native seeds. A note on the table explains what’s going on and asks guests to “pardon the spiders.”
The seeds get netting so they don’t fly away when the fan comes on. Milkweed is particularly prone to escape acts.
Looking out over the tables laden with small and large seeds, brown and black seeds, smooth and spiky seeds, and everything in between, I couldn’t help, but wonder about their future. Maybe the seeds will end up in a garden, maybe they’ll be planted in a forest or near a school. Wherever they end up, I hope they germinate, take root, and make a home.
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Yesterday, Tessa and I headed to Trout Creek to wrap up work on a weed site that’s been on my mind for most of the fall. In September, Tessa and I discovered the largest invasive buckthorn either of us had ever seen. At almost thirty feet tall, it towered over its numerous descendants. We called it the mother buckthorn. The day we found it, we had neither the time nor tools to treat the giantess, so yesterday we returned with hatchets slung over our shoulders and the whole day ahead of us.
The weather promised that winter is near, but thankfully waders help keep you warm as well as dry. We navigated through tall, dry shore grasses and crossed logs partially-submerged in the frigid water, cutting and applying pesticide to invasive honeysuckle as we went. Finally, the honeysuckle transitioned into knee-high glossy buckthorn, then shoulder-high buckthorn. When we were regularly finding 12 ft tall buckthorn we knew we were close. I looked up, scanning the tree line and there it was, red leaves stark against the bleak, late-fall surroundings.
Tessa and I took turns swinging our hatchets into the base of the mother buckthorn, slowly circling the tree until we had stripped the bark all the way around. I was surprised to find the inner bark was a lovely red-purple color. That’s the thing about invasive species. They are almost all charming which often is why they were introduced in the first place. The problem comes when they spread out of flower gardens and nurseries, bringing economic or ecological harm, often both.
Tessa swings at the mother buckthorn
When we finished treating the mother buckthorn the marsh felt strangely still. There was no crash like when Joe cut down the aspen. Unless you looked closely, you might not have noticed anything changed at all. That’s okay, though, because I know something did happen.
That’s how conservation works I think, planting seeds you might not be around to see grow, collecting seeds to be planted far away, or, in this case stopping new seeds from ever falling to reach the ground. To work in forestry is to work on the vast scale of the forest. Some things happen fast, a tree falls. Some things happen slowly, a tree grows. We can do nothing but accommodate.
As part of the CLM program, I’ve gotten to be part of so many projects that were going on long before I arrived and will continue into the future. I had the opportunity to learn from people all over the Ottawa and help them in their work. Figuratively and often literally I was given a chance to plant seeds in a forest I have grown to love. I’m so grateful for all the wonderful people I met along the way who care diligently for the land and let me be a part of that.
As I look back at my time on the forest, I realize that I took seeds with me too, a love of the outdoors that only grew, a greater understanding of federal lands, a heightened awareness of the world around me, and a deep appreciation for land management practices big and small. Even as time goes on and I continue down my professional path, I am sure that I will continue to discover lessons and skills I picked up without noticing like burrs on my sleeve, the beginnings of questions that are the beginning of quests, bulbs that are lying dormant and waiting for spring.
Apologies to any librarians reading this who feel misrepresented. Near Unionville, NV.
Hi CLM blog! It’s November and it’s my second-to-last post––crazy but inevitable and it’s been a good season. I won’t get into the season reflection right now, so stay tuned for that next week. For now I’ll let you know how it’s been going at the tail end of my season from late October to early November.
Main Street in Paradise Valley, NV.
Last time I talked about re-seeding disturbed areas in the Santa Rosas. Since then, I’ve been doing a lot more non-fieldwork, as snow starting to appear at higher elevations has meant that some of the forest roads are becoming less safe for driving. Instead, I’ve been doing a lot of end-of-the-season things––data management and entry for Seeds of Success, mounting specimens of the plants I collected seeds from this season, and organizing the Santa Rosa Ranger District’s herbarium collection.
View from a hike at Water Canyon. The leafless aspens have kind of a blurry look to them
For SOS data management, the main thing of note is the geospatial data entry, which I think is interesting because it can be helpful to future SOS interns in Nevada. Basically, I added points to a map showing where and when I collected various species this summer, and also where I’d scouted but didn’t collect due to poor timing that looked promising for future seasons. Interns each year can look at this map and access a multitude of ideas for where to scout and collect seeds!
One of the herbarium specimens, a delicate plant with what I thought was an iconic name: Floerkeaproserpinacoides (common name false mermaid). Found in the Jarbidge area in June 1974 by Mont and Ethel Lewis, this species is also (strangely, I thought) a rare native plant in southern Minnesota! Its range includes land on both sides of the Great Plains.
The other most interesting things I’ve been doing are the specimen mounting and herbarium organizing. For mounting plants, what you’re doing is gluing pressed, dried plant specimens, along with an informational label, to large pieces of paper so other people can look at them for species identification, records of where species have been found over time, and other purposes! (Some specimens also just look pretty cool.) The part I liked best, however, was actually organizing the office’s herbarium collection (like a plant librarian!). Basically, almost all of the collection’s over 500 plant specimens were being stored in cardboard boxes, not organized, and it was my job to go through them, organizing them alphabetically by family, genus, and species, and moving them to a cabinet they were intended to be stored in. It might sound boring depending on the type of person you are, but for me it was fun to see lots of Northern Nevada plant specimens, most of them collected in the Santa Rosa and Mountain City-Jarbidge Districts of the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest from 1974-1975 by Mont and Ethel Lewis, who I can only assume were a botanizing couple! I also liked getting to review and learn new plant families, and bring order to the chaos so the herbarium collection can actually serve its purpose as a useful reference for people at the office in the future.
Other than work, I’m enjoying fall in Winnemucca, and feeling sad that my term is almost up, but also feeling grateful and enriched by the time I’ve spent here.
As the fall has become colder, and we get closer to winter, the field work continues to prevail while we collect and process seed. Being from Arizona, collecting seed outside in cold, windy, and sometimes rainy weather continues to push my boundaries and show me that I am capable of more than I thought. I have always been used to tolerating the heat but the cold is another story. So as we continue to go out into the field to collect seed all across the Monongahela Forest, I have quickly been learning the best ways to stay warm.
A photo from Bear Rocks at Dolly Sods in the North Zone of the Monongahela National Forest.
On my last blog post, I stated that I was excited to learn all new ways to collect different species than I have before and now I am learning new ways to process and clean the seed! To start, the seed I have been processing the most is Mountain Ash. Mountain Ash seeds consist of clumps of small red berries that are pruned off of the branches. To process them I start by separating the stems and the berries by throwing away the stems and putting the berries in a medium size sieve. Once I have a decent amount of berries in the sieve, I smush them through the holes in the sieve to separate the seeds from the skin and pulp of the berries. After smashing many berries, I rinse the sieve into a bucket to gather the rest of the seeds and then strain out the water. Once the seeds are cleaned I lay them out on a paper bag for them to dry. The dry seed will then be placed in a bag and labeled. Not all seed processing is done this way because of the wide variety of ways plants have evolved to disperse their seeds. This is interesting to me because of all the different and unique ways that can be used to process seeds depending on the plant. I look forward to learning new and unique ways to process seed in the coming weeks!
The tools used to process the Mountain Ash seeds and some of them drying out on a bag.
Not only is it interesting how all the seed collection and processing happens but also why it is important to collect seed from around the forest. Collecting seed on the forest is important for a couple different reasons. One reason is to use the seeds to plant on different forest restoration sites. This is achieved by collecting seeds from a variety of species, processing these seeds, and then sending the cleaned seed to a plant nursery. Once the nursery is done growing the seed, the plants will be sent back to the forest so they can be planted on the current restoration sites. The second reason we collect seed is to increase the genetic diversity of the plant species around the forest. The restoration sites on the forest consists of both plants that have been bough from nurseries in the surrounding states and from the nurseries that planted the seeds collected on the Monongahela forest. By planting native species from different places, the genetic diversity of the forest will increase. This greater diversity will hopefully allow the restoration sites have an increased chance of survival and success.
