With a swish and a thump, Beth secures an iridescent insect in her net. Seconds before, the bee was busy flying back and forth on a determined path, visiting a network of dangling flowers, ripe with sweet nectar. Swoop! Another bee in the jar. I snag a tiny wasp covered in pink pollen. The rush of watching tiny insects jump between flowers in a coordinated dance enthralls us. Suddenly Pauleen shouts “time is up!” and we lay down our nets.

We’re here to support Lewisia kelloggii-a rare plant of the Eldorado National Forest that makes its living on exposed lava caps and decomposed granite soils. The prostrate rosette of fleshy leaves emerges after the snow melts in spring, and the brilliant white flowers follow soon after. Pollinators flock to the exposed sites, feasting on a diverse array of nectar producers. As they buzz from tiny annuals to bushy perennials, they create a pollinator network; a web of interactions which enables both insects and plants to thrive.

Our work will help the research team at Cal State East Bay build an understanding for what pollinators are in the network of our rare Lewisia. We will then be able to collect seeds from the plants that flower earlier and later in the season, supporting the pollinators and in turn supporting the Lewisia.

The first few weeks of the field season have been an exciting time! We’ve already dealt with a fire scare, stuck vehicles (not ours hah), flat tires (also not us) and the onslaught of new knowledge that happens when moving to a new place and staring at the ground all day. It has been wonderful, and I can’t wait to deepen my relationship with this place and all the creatures that inhabit it.

I’ll admit I was quite nervous to start this job and move to Montana. Coming from MA, one of the most densely populated states in the US, to MT, one of the least populated states, was quite intimidating. I was preparing myself for quite a difficult adjustment, but I have actually been having a lovely time and the adjustment has been easy.

So far I have been doing A LOT of learning. Being from the east coast I had to learn a bunch of new flora that I have never seen before. I have found a lot of comfort seeing plants like Mountain Bluebells and Glacier Lilies which are very similar to species we have where I am from. The whole structure of forests and other ecosystems here are entirely different than what I am used to, but it has been a fun challenge. Coming from a place with mostly deciduous forests it was surprising to see the forests full on conifers. All of the pines make the forests smell so good and I love walking around in them or just sitting next to a stream and taking in my surroundings. People told me Montana was beautiful, but there is no way to understand the true beauty of Montana without seeing it.

Now, about the cows. Everywhere you go in Montana you will see cows, you might not see a person, but the cows are ever present. After one of our scouting trips we were driving back to the Ranger station when we realized we were approaching animals in the road. Being that we were in a national forest I was preparing myself for deer or maybe even a bear. That is when we realized it was a bunch of loose cows! For a little we just stared at the cows and they stared back at us. Eventually my partner had to get out of the car and clap to heard the cows out of the road. I have a feeling that will not be our last cow encounter in the field.

I’m off to a good, but very busy, start to this internship. It has been nearly a month of training, moving across the country (North Carolina to California!), settling in, and having an intense crash course on California botany. 

Having been an east coast, big city person all of my life, arriving out west was a surreal experience. After a busy week of training in Chicago, I flew from Chicago to Phoenix, then Phoenix to Reno, then had my Forest Service supervisor (Andy) pick me up in Reno and drive me the two hours to what is now the quaint little town I live in: Quincy, CA. Andy gave me all the local facts as we made our way through rural mountain roads to reach the ranger station: Quincy has a population of around 5,000 people, and is the largest town in Plumas county. Which means, despite being a very small town, there’s a fair amount of restaurants and events that happen here, because it’s where everyone in the county goes for activities. I arrived at the Forest Service housing around 10 pm, got some much needed rest, and then promptly started my first day of work two days later, that following Monday.

The first week of work mainly consisted of Andy showing me and my co-intern (Sam) around the forest, giving us a tour and also teaching us a lot about California plants. We drove all around to different areas of the forest, hopping out of the truck whenever Andy got excited about a roadside plant for us to try to guess an ID.

Later in the week we started more serious ID practice, using both the Jepson manual and a more specific local flora, to brush up on our keying skills. We walked through all kinds of habitat; rocky outcroppings on mountain tops (where we found some rare plants!), meadows, wetlands, mixed conifer forests. Some really cool species of note we saw in the first couple of weeks include: some HUGE Douglas firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii), Sugar pines (Pinus lambertiana, which produces the largest pine cones in the world), plenty of really cool myco-heterotrophic plants including Phantom orchids (Cephalanthera austiniae), Coral root (Corallorhiza maculata), Pinedrops (Pterospora andromedea), and more.

The myco-heterotrophic plants often have such striking colors to them because they don’t produce chlorophyll, which is what makes most plants characteristically green. Instead, these plants are essentially parasitic, taking nutrients from nearby tree roots by tapping into the mycorrhizal fungi associated with the tree.

Once we got a little acquainted with the plants here in northern California, Andy had us shadow him for a few days to help out with rare plant surveys so that we could continue to practice our ID skills and also have a lot more exposure to help remember all the plants we learned. I was the one transcribing one of our surveys, and we got over 150 different species! I am surprised at how well Sam and I are picking things up, but it still is a lot to remember, and I’m sure it’ll take some time before all the information really sinks in.

Last week, our third, we finally got our own Forest Service truck, which meant Sam and I were able to start going out on our own to begin scouting for plants on our native species list. We got to it immediately, because a few of our species are already beginning to go to seed. It’s been a lot of work trying to organize and plan everything in an efficient way, but so far we’ve developed a good system for staying organized with our data and seeds, and we’re reminding ourselves it’ll only get easier as we get more practice. 

That’s month one in summary! It’s been overwhelming at times but overall very exciting and rewarding.

As other CLM folks will likely attest to, the first month of interning with the forest service can be quite shocking. New challenges present themselves often and in interesting ways. Working with a botany crew will show you how much you really do not know about plants. Having your sleeping bag break on a cold night will show you how little prepared you are to take on a Bear Grylls style survival situation. And yet, even though the challenge persists, you get better at handling it as the days go by. You’ll find yourself saying crazy things like “You see those palmate leaves? Obviouslyyy a lupine”. Or not so crazy things like “We should probably pack an extra sleeping bag.”

Luckily, just as challenges present themselves, wonderful examples of how to face them also do. When I feel overwhelmed about being far from home, I think of my courageous cat Skateboard, who braved the journey from West Virginia to Montana, taking in all the smells on the way. I also think of the wise advice given by our crew lead Riley, who reminds us not to expect ourselves to know everything right away. Instead, she says to take our time, try our best, and enjoy the challenge.

Between seed collection and botany fieldwork, there have been a plethora of opportunities to nerd out and learn as much as possible. So far, some of my favorite projects have been rare plant monitoring in Big Hole National Park and nonlethal bee collection for the Montana Bee Atlas Project. I’ve learned so much from our botany crew, including our entomology intern, who taught me how to set up beetle traps this week! The list of plants I can reliably identify in the field grows (slowly) every day. I’m excited to see how much I have learned by the next blog post. Until then, I’ll take things one day at a time.

Deb day. Tuesday June 18th. Fourth day on the job.

I had been hearing about Deb, this mysterious woman who had decades of Botany experience in the Bitterroot National Forest. She was going to be taking us out into the field today and schooling us on the ways of the plants. Li, a Montana Conservation Corps fellow, had arrived in Montana a few weeks before and already had a “Deb Day.” She talked highly of Deb’s teachings, specifically her tips on how to scale the steep slopes.

We piled into the truck and rumbled along towards the forest. As we turned into the cover of the trees she began to point out various birds and plants, and talked about the geological history of the Bitterroots. Winding up the West Fork, we squeezed by branches and bumped over holes and rocks. Eventually, we came to an opening at the base of a steep hill where two sensitive species grow.

Deb had been a seasonal botany technician for 17 seasons, and when she talked about plants it was clear she had invaluable botanical wisdom. She pointed out plants as we went along, showing us how we could distinguish serviceberry from spirea by the curve of the leaf veins, but also elk sedge from pinegrass by running our fingers along the leaves. I ran my hand along the elk sedge and it felt wiry and stiff, and the pinegrass was fine and smooth. Once I did this, their similar looking leaves seemed less confusing.

As we made our way up the hill we spotted some brilliant red among the green. It was one of our rare plants: Castilleja covilliana, or Coville’s Indian Paintbrush. Deb showed us how C. covilliana’s leaves are spidery and thin, compared to the thicker leaves of its more common counterpart, C. hispida. There was one individual, the one in the picture below, that looked totally covilliana-y to my new Montana-botany eyes, but there were other individuals around that I would have thought were C. hispida. Deb talked about how these plants are very plastic, meaning their features can vary a lot depending on the environment they live in. Leaves in particular are plastic, which is unfortunate considering leaves are an important distinguisher between C. covilliana and C. hispida. This all made me feel very confused.

I also learned later that Castillejas can hybridize, meaning two individuals from different species can “break the rules” and mate, forming a plant that is neither C. covilliana nor C. hispida. So not only are the leaves plastic, they might also genuinely be a mix of the two species. So I imagine the entire season I will be asking myself “are these leaves spidery enough to be C. covilliana?”

Deb then announced that we were looking for Allium parvum, or small onion. We scoured the rocky ground for the onion. I would take a few steps, then scan, take a few steps, then scan. I saw nothing. After awhile, Deb announced that she found one. We scrambled over to her, and I looked around on the ground, and saw nothing. Then she pointed to a tiny, pale wisp on the tan gravel. It was nearly the same color as the rocks around it, was less than an inch wide, and had detached from any leaves. I thought to myself that there was no way I would be able to spot this by myself.

As Li made her way over to us she spotted another onion. This one was slightly more conspicuous: still connected to the ground, connected to its leaves, and less dried out. It was a cute little thing, but still seemed hard to spot with its somewhat transparent petals and tiny stature.

After the Allium, we made our way back down the hill, ate lunch in the bed of the truck, and then headed to a second site. Again, we wound up curvy gravel roads, with steep drop-offs that made me feel a little dizzy. The next site was a hill of coarse granite pebbles. But gorgeous blue and purple flowers poked from the gravel. This was Penstemon lemhiensis, the rare penstemon. It has bigger flowers than its lookalike Penstemon albertinus, and has a white mid-vein on its leaves. This one was my favorite of the day: easily spotted, no confusing leaf evaluations, and flowers that seemed to glow in the sunlight.

I was surprised to learn that these rare/sensitive species tend to be on seemingly inhospitable slopes. I imagined the all the sensitive species being in hidden oases with crystal-clear water, not on harsh, gravel slopes. But I’ve seen them and they are there!

As we ended the day with Deb, I remembered how good it feels to be able to know and recognize the plants around me. Coming to Montana was a bit of a botanical shock, in the sense that I went from knowing a good portion of the plants in St. Louis, to knowing almost none. While I still have a lot of learning to do, it has been rewarding to feel myself getting familiar with the Montana flora.

Until next time,

Cicely

My journey to the Umpqua National Forest began in Tucson, Arizona, just as summer temperatures were beginning to soar above 100°F—truly perfect timing. As I traversed through Nevada, the landscape stretched out into endless desert, a stark contrast to the lush greenery that awaited me in northern California and Oregon. Having lived my entire life amidst the color palette of earthy reds, oranges, and browns of southern Arizona, the sudden transition to Oregon’s verdant scenery felt like stepping into another world entirely. Towering trees and dense foliage surrounded me upon my arrival, hiding rivers, lakes, and waterfalls within their depths. Mosses, ferns, and wildflowers thrive beneath the canopy, painting the forest floor with bursts of color.

My experience thus far working in the Umpqua National Forest has been both magical and educational. Coming into this internship with limited knowledge of plant physiology and identification, I initially felt a bit nervous. However, any uncertainty quickly dissipated when I met my coworkers and incredible supervisor. Working alongside such kind and knowledgeable botanists who patiently answer my questions has not only allowed me to learn a wealth of new information in just two weeks but has also been an absolute delight. The sense of community and welcoming atmosphere here is truly remarkable. I deeply appreciate the effort they put into planning group gatherings and events, especially for those of us who are far from home and may feel a bit lonely during this internship.

During my short time here, I’ve learned to identify numerous native species that call this forest home, some of which we will later collect seeds from. I’ve also been sharpening my hiking, navigation, and mapping skills. Furthermore, I’ve been gaining valuable experience in restoration work, including identifying and properly removing invasive species.

In the past few weeks, I’ve seen some of the most breathtaking sights and more stunning wildflowers and vegetation than I have in my entire life. It’s still surreal to me that I get to spend my summer in this beautiful place, and I’m eagerly looking forward to embarking on new adventures and absorbing more knowledge each day!

The field season has just begun and there is so much to be done. We have had the opportunity to participate in a few field surveys with the botanist crew on our forest, during which time we have been scouting for potential seed collection populations. Last week in particular, we scouted along the way to a botanist survey that needed to be completed alongside the dam of a small mountain lake. That’s how I learned that the word “road” is used very loosely by forest service folk. Personally, I think the term “rocky hill of death” might be more applicable for this particular instance, but hey, what do I know? I’m just an intern.

The following week, after we gave our internal organs time to settle back into their rightful places, we pursued some coordinates for potential seed collection populations. These we obtained from looking at local herbarium records. We were able to track down a population of Penstemon eatonii. This was particularly exciting because at least 100 times before we had enthusiastically announced that we spotted populations of Penstemon eatonii from the car, only to find upon exiting the car that they were actually Scarlet Star Gilia. Unfortunately, the Penstemon eatonii population was too small for seed collection, but it was a productive trip, nonetheless.

Upon similar scouting ventures, we were lucky to find many harvestable populations for seed collection. To date, we have harvestable populations for the following species: Lomatium grayi, Lomatium dissectum, Lomatium triternatum, Balsamorhiza sagittate. Artemisia tridentata, Purshia tridentata, Eriogonum umbellatum, and Eriogonum heracleoides. Now that we have scouted the populations, it’s simply a matter of checking up on them periodically so as not to miss the ideal collection period.

Last week, we completed our first seed harvest which was of Lomatium grayi. The collection went well, although it was taxing work because it was so hot that day. The population itself was somewhat small so it only took us a few hours to collect 20% of the available seed. It’s so exciting to have finally harvested. I hope that those little seeds go on to produce many more native seeds to aid in restoration projects across the forest. Currently, the seeds are laid out to dry in our office, gracing us with a fragrant celery-like smell. Thank you Apiaceae.

Perhaps one of my favorite experiences of the internship thus far, came in the form of an element occurrence survey. We were asked to check up on a population of Brownie Lady’s Slippers (Cypripedium fasciculatum) that was put in our GIS system several years ago. The species is on our sensitive species list for the forest. The trip to get there was long and often felt treacherous. Again, I learned that the word “road” is relative around here. Once at the top of the mountain it was only a short hike to the survey location. It was clear that the fuels crew had been working in this area in months past, so we had concerns about being able to find the Lady’s Slippers. However, we were happy to see that the small population is still thriving and that it has migrated up the slope a little. As a budding botanist, finding rare plants feels akin to finding rare gems, and always warrants a photo opt.

Our Lomatium dissectum population should be ready to harvest either this week or next. Until then, we will continue scouting for more populations and monitoring the ones that we already have.