Plant roots have crawled into my brain and are now forcing me to do their bidding

August felt like it flew by. A month characterized by surprisingly good weather, fun weekend trips, and simply being in a grove with seed collection. It’s been nice to be so busy, at a minimum we’ve been collecting from one population everyday, some days from three or four. The office is filling up with brown paper bags of seeds and we are quickly running out of space. Because it is so dry here, we don’t really have to worry about the seeds getting moldy, however we still air them out and check them every once in a while. The main issue is the pests that persist in the bags after we bring them back. Lots of grubs, ants, stinkbugs, cute jumping spiders and sometimes less friendly critters :/. Yesterday, loud crawling noises were heard inside a Veratrum californicum bag that was collected a week ago. I brought the bag outside, opened it up, and out flew a large and angry hornet. Luckily it didn’t sting but still not a welcome sight. In the field we try to leave the bags open to allow bugs to escape but some seem to like the dark, cool bottoms of the seed piles. I read another blog post on here that mentioned the use of fumigation strips to deal with pests which seems like a great idea. I want to see what I can do about working that into our protocol here, thanks fellow CLM interns!

Our office slowing being taken oven my a mountain of seeds

In addition to more seed collection, we’ve also started the mounting process for the vouchers we’ve been taking throughout the season. Its been an extremely satisfying process and they are coming out surprisingly well! The pressing process has inspired me to start collecting small specimens for myself. I’ve made a couple little mounted cards and hope to build a collection out of my car! It feels like an appropriate keepsake for my time in Plumas and I imagine they would make nice gifts. As I’ve started doing this in my free time, I began to realize how much this job has altered my perception of and relationship to the plants around me.

I’ve always appreciated plants but over the last couple months my fondness for them as certainly deepened. Going into this position I would have described myself as generally a wildlife, specifically bird, centric-person with a general and certainly not professional interest in flora. I think this was mostly due to lack of experience with plant-based projects and a very surface level technical knowledge. But by learning basic plant families, dichotomous key ID skills, more plant physiology, and restoration concepts, I’ve found myself thinking about plant life much more while exploring the world around me. This month, I went on three weekend trips to various beautiful areas around the Sierras. While hiking through the Eastern Sierras or climbing in Yosemite, I kept stopping to photograph, identify, and/or take little samples of any interesting vegetation I saw. In Yosemite, I met another seed collector who works there and she gave me some great tips about cleaning Asclepias seeds. According to her, if you close and shake the bag they are in, the heavy seeds should detach from the fluff and fall to the bottom. Wouldn’t have thought to try that and it probably saved us many hours of cleaning by hand!

It’s coming to that point where its time to start looking for jobs for the winter season. The end of our time here in Plumas is coming quicker than I thought. While on the job hunt, I’ve found myself leaning towards more botany positions. That’s kinda how I know that the plants have a good degree of control over me. I could see myself being happy toiling away to carry out their agenda through more seed collection, propagation, restoration and invasive control. This job has helped me give myself over to the plants!

A Completely Incomplete Guide to Lupine ID

Month two in Plumas! Andrea and I are really starting to get into the swing of things now. We’ve spent the majority of our time this month working on seed collection which has been very satisfying. After learning the ropes for the first couple weeks, we’ve grown more confident and competent out in the field on our own. Scouting is still the bulk of our work but many of our populations are now ready for harvest. This may go without saying, but when monitoring populations for future collection, we want to be 100% sure on our species ID. With some plants like Veratrum californicum or Elymus elymoides, correct identification only requires a quick glance. However, with some other genera and species we really have to get into the weeds – if you will – to lock down that latin binomial. One genus in particular that is a priority for collection and a challenge to ID has been haunting our dreams and sometimes nightmares for all of July.

The Lupinus genus or Lupines are fairly ubiquitous across the Sierras and much of the American West. They come in all shapes and sizes, most often with obvious palmate leaves and whorled, long inflorescences of white, lilac, purple, blue and sometimes yellow flowers. They grow well in open areas and are nitrogen fixers like many other genera in the Fabaceae family, making them a great candidate for restoration projects in burn scars. Their fruit are pea-looking pods that are seemingly easy to collect and they grow in thick patches all across Plumas National Forest. All this makes the perfect recipe for seed collection. However, there are so many different species and identification has proven to be quite tricky. In the Jepson, the list of lupine species in California takes up seven whole pages and in our local flora, the Oswald Guide, they take up four. A search on Calflora yields 39 different species and varieties in Plumas County. All this means that we had a lot of learning to do when it came to differentiating between all these lupines.

Starting with the basics, we learned relevant lupine morphology and the various terms that would be relevant for identification. The aspects of the flower that are typically of note are: how glabrous or ciliate the keel is, whether or not the keel is covered by the wings, the width of the banner petal, how pubescent the banner backing is, the prominence of the calyx spur, the color of the petal, the length of the corolla, and I’m sure several other features. For the rest of the plant, we learned its important to look at, the height, the growth habit, how woody the stem is, the length or presence of stipules, whether or not the leaves are adaxially or abaxially hairy, the pattern and openness of the inflorescence, and the habitat its found in. Even when we figure out all of these features – to the best of our ever improving ability – some species are still unclear. For example, only a couple millimeters of stipule length might separate the decision to call population Lupinus andersonii or Lupinus albicaulis – two species which the Jepson describes as “morphologically indistinct”. The presence of an almost invisible patch of hairs on the inside of the wing petals could be the only signifier between L. argenteus var. heteranthus and L. arbustus. Without a doubt, there was a strong learning curve. Several weeks of non-stop lupine action did wonders for our identification skills. We went from a half an hour of keying only yielding more questions to fairly confident species IDs in a matter of minutes. The trick seemed to be constant exposure to different species and that repetition of the ID process. At this point, it feels like we have many of the Lupine key breaks memorized.

Unfortunately the satisfaction of gaining a new skill came with other unforeseen complications. Correct ID often meant that we could start collecting as soon as the seeds were ready. Throughout July, we watched as flowers shriveled and green pods emerged. The pods slowly turned brown and were ready for harvest. After putting so much work into these populations, we were very excited to finally do some collections. The first lupine collection for the year was a population of Lupinus latifolius var. columbianus that was growing along a remote mountain road. The pods were hard and brown, ready to pop. I cracked open the first pod looking forward to seeing those little pea-like seeds and was greeted with a large grub. Cracked another one, another squirming grub. The day went on and the pattern stayed pretty consistent – it felt like 80-90% of the pods had some fly larvae inside which had already consumed many of the seeds. Lupine tribulations just seemed endless. Fortunately, after collecting a few more populations of different species in a variety of habitats, we learned that not all lupines are that infected. I’ve come to accept that worms are simply a part of the lupine collection process and so many have popped out of pods into my face that I don’t even mind them anymore, maybe they are kind of cute.

Long story short, lupines are hard and will most likely remain hard but it was a satisfying challenge to throw ourselves at. Check out some other highlights from the month:

Stay tuned for August updates!

— Sam

Im melting and everything is hot and might burn but at least that Clarkia is pretty

Writing this post in a fervor, fearing the inevitable power outage that comes in the afternoons on days that are way too hot. It’s fire season here in Plumas National Forest and this week we have started to feel it. Yesterday, PG&E turned of the power as a precaution because of a several thousand acre fire growing in Oroville, just 65 miles away. We returned from a weary day in the field to a powerless and wifi-less town and ranger station. Most concerningly, we had lost power to our fridges in the bunkhouses and our newly purchased pints of Ben and Jerry’s were slowly melting away. June 21st may have technically been the first day of summer, but on July 2 here in Quincy we celebrated the real start of summer, aka fire season, eating ice cream soup in the dark.

Besides this slight unpleasantness, the start of my CLM internship here in Plumas NF has been fantastic – especially botanically. Plumas is often referred to as the “Lost Sierra” due to its lack of prominence on travel websites and Instagram location tags. Because of this, besides the occasional music festival and ‘Rainbow Family Gathering’, the area does not experience many tourists. The more beauty for us then. My co-intern Andrea and I spent the first couple weeks of this month cruising around secluded mountain ‘roads’, swamping through wet meadows, and traversing rocky ridgetops in an effort to get familiar with the varied and interesting botanical members of this community. Guided by the resident forest service botanist and our mentor, Andy Fiel, we have seen hundreds of species. To learn plants quickly, Andy had us shadow him on this rare plant surveys. We walked transects through timber plots, recording every vascular plant we saw with a specific focus on rare plants in the area. Keying out whatever we didn’t know either in a local flora or what must be the 5000lbs Jepson, we grew more acquainted with our leafy (and sometimes achlorophyllous) friends.

If I wanted to I could just fill this entire post with all of the cool plants we’ve been lucky enough to come across but I will show some restraint. Above are some sweet Ericaceaes and a fantastic orchid that Andy was particularly excited to see. It warranted a lengthy photo session from all of us. We certainly didn’t learn every plant out here in these first couple weeks and likely won’t even come close by the end of the summer, but these surveys helped us build confidence in figuring things out. With this training and the eventual procurement of our government rig, a charmingly rickety forest green 2008 F-150, we were able to leave the nest and begin seed work!

The past week or so has been a lot of scouting, scouting, scouting and the occasional session of scouting. Driving around with the passenger’s head practically hanging out the window looking for grasses with just the right shaped inflorescence or a patch of lupines with only slightly ciliate keels. Its nice to feel the wind in you hair and have a target species with a large population in your sights. Slowly but surely, Andrea and I are building out a map of populations to return to and watch develop throughout the season. Yesterday marked our first collection day! A large population of Calyptridium umbellatum that we’d been monitoring for a week or so was finally crispy enough to harvest. It was quite satisfying to fill up several envelopes of what is ultimately mostly chaff but seemingly quality seed nonetheless. Admittedly, some of that seed went flying around our truck on the drive home because the envelopes broke open. Still plenty of kinks to work out but it is wonderful to be off the starting block and along the way!