Having a blast seed sucking

Time has really flown. I feel like I have seen every season Montana has to offer; from the blazing mid summer heat to the frigid sub-zero temperatures coupled with ceaseless winds. I have learned so much about the Northwestern Great Plains and I have really grown fond of them. I came in knowing nothing about the plants of this area, but working with many range people and other experts in botany, these plants have become my family. This internship has been challenging at times; I did feel like I was thrown into this seed collecting project on my own, and it was a little daunting.  I knew nothing about these plants and I was worried that it may very well take me a summer to learn them all, let alone know when their seeds will be ripe. Luckily, my mentor had faith that I would complete it and do it well, and I’d like to think I actually did alright. I began to realize that I was surrounded by smart, kind, helpful people and that was something I got better at; asking others for help and offering up my help so I could learn from them. So that is my advice to new interns; ask a lot of questions and don’t be afraid to sound stupid because you are still an intern, you’re allowed to be. I am so thankful to have met so many wonderful people who work hard at managing these lands whose jobs are never ending and thankless. I haven’t yet decided if I’d want to continue working with the BLM, but I do know that this internship confirmed my passion for plants and allowed me to look at plants in terms of how they relate to animals and the people that use the land.
Thank you Chicago Botanic Garden for this opportunity, it has been swell.

snow!

I dismounted from my trusty steed, Bronzie, and crunched down onto the hardened gumbo. So this is what they mean by the word desolate. A northerly wind whipped at my dry lips as I scanned the horizon for signs of life. Luckily, I wasn’t the only sign of life this time. My partner had taken it upon himself to accompany me on my journey; a recon mission to get a lay of the land and to see if the treasure is abundant enough to make it worthwhile.

I hadn’t been to these parts before and a strange, low humming sound caught me off guard. Futilely craning my neck to try to see past the lonely buttes, I was surprised to see a low flying aircraft coming towards me. Instinctively, I ducked and buried myself in the sagebrush, a remnant of my days as a thieving vagabond. I waited as the aircraft flew by and then doubled back over me. Was I being paranoid or am I actually being accosted for trespassing on some kind of sacred ground? Thankfully, my partner was there to reassure me that we were on safe land where we were supposed to be. I reluctantly stood up and began to focus on why we were here in the first place, although I felt a twinge of unease as the plane circled overhead a third time.

“So, it looks like we got a good bunch here,” my partner said, a waiver of excitement in his voice. “You don’t say,” I agreed as I guided my hands through the dry branches feeling hundreds of our treasure falling into my palms and onto the ground. On closer inspection I could see we had some good ones, really good ones.

“Looks like we hit the jackpot,” I said hoisting the strap of my brand new Seed Sucker 2000 over my shoulder. My partner had come up with the idea to use this new tool and so we’re in on this adventure together sharing in the rewards and glory.

We went straight to work and within an hour or so had decided that the new tool was the best idea since toaster ovens. Pretty soon, long after I had forgotten about the aircraft, we had a new set of spectators. A group of ladies had come to the edge of the road to get a closer look at the two orange freaks. Feeling quite proud of myself at the moment, I tipped my hat and blew them a kiss. If only I didn’t already have a family back at home… Who knew Montana was brimming in such riches. I remounted Bronzie and took a last look at the landscape before heading in for the night. I’m not sure why I had originally called this place desolate, she just hides her secrets well. As I began the long journey home, a low humming sound began to stir somewhere off in the horizon.

Today would have been my official last day of the five month internship, but luckily I am here for 6 months and possibly more thanks to the princess sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata var. wyomingensis and A. cana). One of the big goals of this internship, according to my mentor, is to acquire huge sagebrush collections and since seeds won’t be ready until November sometime, I get to wait until they do. And according to all the rumors, they are late bloomers this year; they are just so special.

The sagebrush seeds will hopefully be used for restoration projects; I am hoping for crested conversion fields and other weed-infested plots of land where straight up broadcasting of seeds wouldn’t be enough. The plan is to grow up seeds so that 2-3 year old plants can be transplanted (by willing volunteers). I wish I could stay on to see this come into fruition. Although I may not be here for that, I did recently get to observe and take part a little in the second process after seed collecting; the growing. The BLM has a partnership with Special K Ranch, a working community for high functioning adults with mental disabilities. It turns out for the past several years they have been able to help out BLM offices in Montana with the space and labor it takes to grow up seedlings for restoration projects.

I met up with some folks from the Dillon and Missoula field offices as well as Wendy, our state botanist, who heads up this partnership and cheerfully describes it as her rogue operation.  I was amazed to see an entire greenhouse filled with 2 year old baby sagebrush plants, which actually were destined to be transplanted by a MCC crew this fall in northern Montana. Woohoo! So good to see stuff getting done. Not only were there sagebrush, but a few river birch and other wetland plants to be used for riparian stabilization next year. They, too, were collecting seeds at the ranch, although from grow-out plants (so they were at least all in one easy to get to place) the fall forbs being some asters such as Prairie coneflower (Ratibida columnifera) and Hairy golden aster (Heterotheca villosa). I left after helping lay out a weed cloth for next year’s garden (it’s expanding!) feeling refreshed and inspired by the wonderful people and the wonderful work they are doing.

I recently was granted another opportunity to interact with the public outside of BLM. I volunteered for the 7^th grade science teacher at the local junior high school to help with a river monitoring field trip at the local Big Spring Creek. This was an amazing science experiment that the teacher, Mr. Paulson, had been conducting for the past 22 years! Measuring things like stream depth, velocity, macroinvertebrates, dissolved oxygen content, total phosphorus and nitrogen, and total fecal coliform, his science class has collected a fairly good amount of historical data. Not only have they collected the data, but their findings have been used to make important changes. One year when the total fecal coliform levels were extra high, they brought it to the attention of the town who quickly found out there was a sewage leak that had gone undetected.

I got to play the part of resident “scientist” for the day and perform the chemistry tests with some of the students. I have to say, I was really nervous at first not having dealt with 7^th graders in a while, but they were surprisingly fascinated by what we were doing, were really fun, and super well-behaved thanks to their teacher.  If there are seeds left in the next couple of weeks, I plan on taking the students out for another hands-on experience to help me with seed collecting (yes! Free labor!).

These past few opportunities along with working at the BLM have allowed me to explore a few different avenues within science/botany, since I’m not totally sure if working for the BLM is for me. Although, now that I see there can be more to the BLM than policies and NEPA documents, maybe it is.

A few random photos because I didn’t take any of what I talked about.

In the North Moccasin Mountains

Bugling elk at the Missouri River Breaks, and yes, I did take this picture with my phone.

Theodore Roosevelt statue at TR National Park in ND

A prairie dog t-shirt found at the local sports store

I have seen so much spectacular scenery these past few months that it’s almost becoming commonplace; oh, look, it’s just another run-of-the-mill extremely gorgeous view over there. One of the best things about being here is getting to explore all that Montana has to offer, although I wouldn’t even come close if I had a lifetime. I have come to appreciate the plains of central Montana, but on the weekends I like to seek out the enchantment of trees and this past weekend that prompted a visit to the “Bob”. The “Bob” is the nickname for the Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex, the second largest wilderness complex in the lower 48 that has been protected for about the past 75 years. It was named after a fascinating wilderness pioneer, Robert Marshall, a forester by trade and adventurer at heart who believed that it should be the right of all people to have access to wilderness and the adventure that comes with it.

Bob Marshall Wilderness, not sure of the mountain’s name

“Adventure, whether physical or mental, implies breaking into unpenetrated ground, venturing beyond the boundary of normal aptitude, extending oneself to the limit of capacity, courageously facing peril. Life without the chance for such exertions would be for many persons a dreary game, scarcely bearable in its horrible banality.” -from, “The Problem of the Wilderness”
Bob is pretty dramatic here, but I did get a taste for the adventure that he’s talking about last weekend and yeah, it was pretty exhilarating. I hiked past blue-green waters of Holland Lake and watched it retreat as I gained elevation and distance from civilization. The trail we took was well traveled and we passed many fellow hikers and mules carrying supplies, so for the most part I didn’t feel as though we were in true wilderness (most of all I felt I didn’t have to worry too much about encountering a grizzly). I also heard a few jets fly overhead, which also took away from the wilderness characteristics of the place.
I finally crossed the border into the wilderness so nicely labeled by a dilapidated sign and immediately the number of people we encountered dropped to zero. Other species of animal were a bit more abundant, though. A few grouse made appearances on the side of the trail and we were visited by a large hoofed creature in the night just inches from the tent who remains unknown because I was too scared to take a look. Rain was the biggest hardship on this trip since most of the other backpacking trips I took this year luckily had been dry. Although I spent several steep, cold miles hiking in water-logged shoes, which was a bit miserable at first, the weather made for some dramatic scenery and the wet shoes became normal. Hidden lakes popped up in rocky canyons, yellow buckwheat and white beargrass added bright contrast to the dark grays and greens, and every summit provided a new view of craggy peaks as clouds constantly veiled and unveiled them. I finally felt truly in the wilderness with the solitude and immense vastness that comes with it.
Back at work that thought reoccurred to me; the feeling of solitude and vastness still imminent. As I worked with a range tech on the hunt to check range improvement projects, we wandered the landscape without catching the glimpse of a single human being, although knowing that they weren’t too far off. I have come to understand the importance of the range specialists’ job here with the BLM, which in essence is finding harmony between humans and the natural world because both are vitally dependent on each other. Because of that most people here work closely with plants even though their official title is not botanist. When we asses rangeland health, the majority of what we monitor is the species of plants because they tell us the story of the land. Finding the harmony between humans and nature is such a difficult yet noble task, although one can argue whether we really are that separate from nature. I have been thinking about whether or not we have an equivalent to the range specialists back east. Possibly forester, but I can’t really compare apples and oranges; I am simply enjoying the fact that I am learning so much about a previously unknown part of my country.

Sapphire Lake in the Bob

Spruce grouse possibly?

Swainson’s Hawk juveniles hanging out

It’s just about the halfway point for me and I am starting to get a bit worried about making my seed collection target of 30 species (maybe we shouldn’t have been so ambitious, I am only one person after all and I’m only at about 10). Some days are much less fruitful than others; I just spent about an hour trying to ID a plant that turned out to be the noxious Russian Knapweed, Acroptilon repens (yuck! I wanted so badly for it to be a native!). I guess I still need to brush up on my weed ID skills. I haven’t had the chance to go out in the field with the weeds specialist yet, but I did get to go out on the river and that was spectacular.

So the river of which I speak is the Missouri River, which is about 2 hours north of Lewistown, where I am stationed. One of the largest rivers in the US, it flows for 2,341 miles from the mountains in western MT to the Mississippi River in Missouri. It is a sight for sore eyes seeing so much water after weeks of dry heat that has turned the ground into a solid brick. OK, I lied a bit; Lewistown has a beautiful spring running through town, which is actually the third largest freshwater spring in the world at 50,000 gallons per minute with some of the world’s purest water. I am pretty spoiled with excellent drinking water, but other than that it is pretty dry.

The 149 mile stretch of river on which I boated is part of the Upper Missouri River Breaks National Monument, meaning it is land that will be protected from development forever. The proclamation of the monument was actually made by President Bill Clinton right before he left office and much of it looks the same today as it would have when Lewis and Clark navigated the river in the early 1800s. There are some cattle grazing allotments (grandfathered in) along the river today and that was one of the reasons I went on the river, to help with fence repair. The BLM manages the monument and is responsible for the up-keep of some of the fence lines, especially near the river where the water level fluctuates, which constantly changes the end point of the fences. Lewis and Clark had predicted that the land surrounding the river would be almost impossible for settlement, but yet it happened when homesteaders came in the early 1900s and the remnants can be seen today in the grazing cattle and remaining standing structures. The land surrounding the river is known as the “breaks”, the term for the dramatic draws and cliffs that the river has created in the sandstone over time. We boated for 30 miles upriver while I scanned the breaks for big horn sheep, bald eagles and other wildlife. The 30 miles seemed like an endless journey through almost pure wilderness and I would have missed the sheep completely had Aurora, who manages this area, not pointed them out to me.
Some days when I am out scouting for plants alone I often have no luck in finding a large enough population or only find species whose seed have passed. Lately, what has made up for the lack of plant luck is my luck in coming across bird nesting areas, especially the all-important species of concern. I have been dive-bombed by goshawks, which was very frightening. They would fly straight at my head and I couldn’t help but duck even though they’d veer off at the last minute. I also thought I was going to be carried off by a golden eagle when less than 20ft away, I startled it and watched the massive creature rise out of the grass ready for it to turn back toward me and finish me off. Thankfully that didn’t happen, I just watched him soar and discovered his mother and their nest in a cottonwood. Maybe my mentors are turning me toward wildlife…

Big horn sheep!

Lamb!

Fritillary on Gaillardia aristata

Goshawk eyeing me suspiciously.

Goshawk on the defense

“The heat has come, the rains are gone. I begin to feel the wind rustling through my white hair. It is almost time to let it go, to let it succumb to the wind.  As grasses around tickle me and sprinkle me with bits of shade, I hold tight to the ground and stand strong.  Day after day I do this for it is all that I know. And yet there is a freedom in the life that I live, a freedom to just be in the open air. I often wonder what it would be like to stand a few centimeters to the south, but alas, I am rooted to my spot and so I hold onto it with pride. Occasionally my friends around me get trampled by large dark beasts; I am so grateful that it hasn’t happened yet to me.  Suddenly, something unusual appears, a dark shadow creeping over me, and I fruitlessly brace myself for the impact of one of the beasts. What happens, though, is unexpected; some force gently handles my body and plucks the hair, my offspring, away from me. ‘Bye bye babies!’  I think, then it’s back to bobbing in the breeze. “  –Antennaria microphylla (my first seed collection)

Antennaria microphylla

I am very thankful that this internship has given me the opportunity to spend my days searching for and studying plants (and spending time making up corny plant stories). Sometimes that involves ripping them apart and counting the number of segments into which a carpal is divided, or seeing the results of a sagebrush reseeding project, or eating a yucca bud and enjoying the spicy aftertaste. I still cannot believe that I am getting paid to do this.

Every day that goes by, I realize how important plants are to the world and to my interests. This past week we had a biologists’ tour at our office with folks from all over the state to get together and discuss the work we’ve been doing, problems that have arisen, and how different people have dealt with them. It was an excellent opportunity to meet a group of dedicated individuals who care deeply about biology and sharing their knowledge and also to have a bit of fun.

I was super excited to have the chance to meet our state bontanist (yay plant people), who is well versed in the Seeds of Success program and just about everything else. I learned about wasp larvae causing galls in sagebrush, possible genetic crossover between white bark and limber pines, and most importantly how to get rid of prickly pear (Opuntia spp.)bristles (glochids). I won’t keep it a secret, if you rub it against your hair, there is something about the oils that makes them disappear like magic (it really works, I tried it!). Most of the biologists at this meeting were wildlife people, though (not that I have anything against them), which made me realize how much the plant world is underrepresented.  Thankfully there was at least one plant person from whom I could glean a bit of plant information. I thought back to our class in Chicago with Peggy Olwell who stressed the same idea, that our government agencies often forget about the plants and focus mainly on the conservation of animals.

As much as animals are important, they couldn’t exist without their habitats, which are comprised mainly of plants. I think the wildlife biologists know that, too, since a lot of their work involves habitat restoration.  We visited a field near a critical sage grouse habitat that had been leased to a farmer to grow wheat for a few years. In return, the farmer was to use the native seeds that the BLM supplied and after spraying the invasive grasses on the land, reseed the next year.  Unfortunately, the farmer has yet to complete his end of the bargain and the field lies fallow with only crested wheat grass (Agropyron cristatum)and cheat grass (Bromus tectorum) dominating. Since cheat grass is an early annual, it will be difficult without more herbicide applications to get native plants re-established. This is one of the many stories of the trials and tribulations (or should I say challenges) of working for a multi-use land agency. But back to my point that wildlife need plants in order to be maintained.  I did learn that in Montana we have our own greenhouse (not technically, it’s contracted) near the state office in Billings growing thousands of native seedlings getting ready for restoration projects, yay! Some of the seed I that I collect will end up growing there; I feel like a plant mother whose children are going off to school (not yet, but at least by next year hopefully).

I also realized that I need a better camera for taking pictures and to remember to actually bring it.

So long for now.

One of the island mountain ranges, the Judiths.

It’s a bee’s heaven

The past few weeks have flown by here at the Lewistown BLM office. I am starting to get to know the Big Sky country out here in the center of Montana with its flat rangeland flanked by the welcoming contrast of island mountain ranges. The forever-stretching grasslands are a new concept to me coming from the east where everything is close together or at least densely forested. Distance is measured in relation to large landmarks (mountains) and time is mostly forgotten as I cruise along the gently rolling plains. Often I will be driving for miles before I pass another vehicle and we exchange a wave in remembrance of civilization.

The past few weeks have flown by here at the Lewistown BLM office. I am starting to get to know the Big Sky country out here in the center of Montana with its flat rangeland flanked by the welcoming contrast of island mountain ranges. The forever-stretching grasslands are a new concept to me coming from the east where everything is close together or at least densely forested. Distance is measured in relation to large landmarks (mountains) and time is mostly forgotten as I cruise along the gently rolling plains. Often I will be driving for miles before I pass another vehicle and we exchange a wave in remembrance of civilization.

So far I have done a little bit of everything. Not having an actual botanist in the office has put a little pressure on me to use what resources I can to get to know the plants here. I still am an amateur in the field of botany, but I hope to become a little less so after the 6 months of this internship. With the help from the range specialists who understand the grasses and forbs in relation to grazing, including invasives and noxious weeds that are the on the list to be controlled/eliminated, I am gaining an understanding of the vegetation here. I am using my excursions into the field to not only assist and learn from the wildlife biologists, but to become acquainted with as many plants as I can fit in my mind.

Working with the wildlife biologists has been wonderful. I am not only learning the names of the animals out here, but I have had a chance to learn some animal behavior and monitoring techniques. One of the wildlife biologists and I monitored known raptor nests to look for signs of activity. A dead raptor had been observed at one of the nests the previous year and looking through our binoculars, we thought we may have seen her, or what remained of her. We questioned whether the body would have been preserved for so long and as we got closer it appeared as though her eye was dipping lower into the nest. We realized she was alive, lying as flat as possible on her eggs so as not to be noticed. She was a ferruginous hawk, the largest of the hawks and I was overjoyed at witnessing my first raptor nest especially one of which we were not expecting to be active.

I am learning the importance of sagebrush here on the range. I have heard a lot of talk about it and now I get to see what the big deal is all about. The most common here, Wyoming Big Sagebrush, Artemisia tridentate ssp. wyomingensis, is scattered throughout the grassland; its sweet and spicy fragrance get stirred up lingers on my clothes whenever I walk through it. Several species of wildlife are sagebrush obligates, which means their survival depends on an abundance of sagebrush. These include greater sage-grouse, Gunnison sage-grouse, sage sparrow, Brewer’s sparrow, sage thrasher, pygmy rabbit, sagebrush vole, sagebrush lizard, and pronghorn. Knowing so many species depend on this one plant is a scary thought, but it also makes me feel good about the seed collecting that I’ll be doing.

Some silver sagebrush, Artemisia cana

I’ve also learned from a couple ranchers that sagebrush is not one of their favorites. Some talk about burning their fields (sagebrush) to make room for more palatable grasses for their cattle, which is understandable from their point of view, but not good in the long run. Silver sagebrush, Artemisia cana, luckily is a species that is capable of resprouting after a fire, which is great because fire, whether man made or not, is common around here. Speaking of which, another one of my projects is surveying Goshawks in an area that is prescribed to be burned next year.

Wildfire in the distance

I am realizing now that I have been learning a lot and one blog post is not enough to share it all; I will save some for later and besides I still have so much more to learn. So far I love that I am getting to know plants, not only to identify them, but their importance in relation to wildlife, ranchers, and fire, all of which are key components in making central Montana what it is.

Some pictures for your enjoyment:

Horned lizard!

Sparrow nest

Wild rose

The rugged landscape of the Musselshell river breaks