Greetings!
I have spent the last 4.5 months working as the botanical intern with the National Park Service at two parks within Western Maryland, Catoctin Mountain Park and the C & O Canal. My main objective at both parks has been to monitor the RTE’s (fed speak for rare, threatened, and endangered species) and collect data that could contribute to the plants conservation, and in some instances reintroduction. My plant identification skills have been greatly challenged and subsequently expanded. I have had alot of training and experience with GPS (both Trimble and Garmin) and am currently taking advantage of the online GIS course Dean spoke of at our CBG orientation.
Some of the endangered plant species I have monitored are;
Platanthera grandiflora

Coeloglossum viride

Long bracted orchis

Ptilimnium nodosum

Harperella

In addition to RTE monitoring, I have been collecting data which is being used to monitor forest regeneration. Deer overpopulation in the Catoctin Mountain Park has decimated the understory layer of the forest. Not only has this resulted in lack of plant diversity, but also contributed to the spread of exotic invasive in the park. The deer will not eat the Berberis thunbergii and Microstegium vemineum that have quickly spread to take up the niches that the lack of herbaceous plants and shrubs has provided.

Japanese barberry                                           Japanese stilt grass

Veg Plot data collection

I am quite grateful for the learning opportunity that the CLM internship had afforded me. My favorite part has been when random park employees walk up to me with their top snatch, picture, or description and say “you’re the park botanist, what is this plant?” This happens a lot and I have usually been able to give them a correct identification. This test of my knowledge lets me notice how greatly my plant identification knowledge has grown in the short time that I have been here.

I hope you all are having similar successes!

Jena Race, NPS, Western Maryland

My blog week assignment came with good timing because I just finished my position in Lakeview, OR last week.  I was only there for a little short of three months because I’m headed off to other adventures (grad school), but even in such a relatively brief time I came away with valuable new skills and experience.

Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge

Lakeview sits in Oregon’s high desert, at the northwest extent of the Great Basin. I quickly discovered it does not have a lake view. At least not from the streets of the town. I had to hike to the top of Black Cap, a high point in the surrounding hills that houses radio and cell towers, to see Goose Lake a few miles to the south. I guess they can keep the name.

Goose Lake is that long whitish blob right below the horizon.

During my time in Lakeview my supervisor was Joe Wagner, a fire ecologist who has been with the BLM for almost 40 years, most of which is experience with fire and range management in the Great Basin. My main function in working with Joe was setting up and monitoring fire effects plots. Our work was concerned with vegetation on the sites: frequency of forbs and grasses, cover and density of shrubs and juniper. I learned the joys of driving two and a half hours to a field site, then laying out transect lines through a tangle of juniper limbs and 8 foot high bitterbrush in 95 degree heat (okay, that’s worst case scenario). Fire is a widely used land management tool in the Great Basin but its effects on specific sites are not always well understood since there is so much variability in the plant communities, soil type, slope, etc.  That’s where local case studies like ours come in. I felt like I was doing something that matters, which made the work very satisfying.

Especially for the first few weeks, but to some smaller degree for almost the entire duration of my internship, I missed the climate and scenery of home in the Seattle area. There were no blue, snow-flecked mountains, lush forests or great expanses of deep inviting water.  There were miles and miles of open country covered with sage, rabbitbrush, bitterbrush, greasewood and juniper, flanked by rolling mountain ridges, buttes, and rims.  Almost all the water was in alkali lakes and reservoirs for livestock. The soils were painted more in sandy grays and reds than dark, loamy brown. I thought it somewhat barren and monotonous, but that’s because I wasn’t familiar with it yet. Then I started to learn the identity of vegetation in the landscape by texture and color, make out interesting fire scar mosaics in the hillsides, and realize that at night the low horizon exposed more stars than I had ever seen before.  All the arid Great Basin species became part of my widening view as I learned their names.  Even in late summer when all the grasses and forbs dry up beyond recognition (which makes it really fun to ID them for transect work) their golden color is a beautiful contrast with the crisp blue of a clear sky.

I'm moving in.

Things live here, thrive even, but many remain hidden. Some of the most interesting plants are the smallest and easiest to miss, or vary wildly depending on seasonal precipitation. Many animals seek refuge during the heat of the day. But the more time I spent in the field and the closer I looked, the more variation I noticed, the more surprises I found. It grew on me.

I will miss the largely untouched openness of the Oregon outback. The smell of sage. Pronghorn antelope kicking up a trail of dust as they raced across our path and out of sight over a crest. The friendly waves from complete strangers as your vehicles pass on a remote and bumpy dirt road. Tiny Mimulus and Cryptantha dotting the ground like fragile confetti. Towns small and remote enough that an annual “Mosquito Festival” is the most exciting thing going on within about 100 miles.  All these things and more, in an utterly new and unfamiliar place that I thought I could never call home but is now an inextricable part of my life.

-Robbie Lee, Lakeview District BLM, Oregon

…when I’m absolutely atwitter about being out here, and there are days when I want to scream.

In regards to the latter, I’m sure that many of you out there are going through the Seeds of Success program. I’m going to posit that this thing is both one of the most enjoyable and most infuriating things I’m doing out here in Ridgecrest. I started back in March, so I had a long time to spend in the office before I was made aware of the SOS program, let alone that I was essentially in charge of it. Now, I deeply enjoy the actual process of going out to collect. What I don’t enjoy is trying to pound the square peg of harsh biological reality into the star shaped hole of the protocol. Out here, a lot of our species are either very

One stage of the climb up Surprise Canyon

widely dispersed over vast areas, or form little island pockets. In the latter case, getting the prescribed 10,000+ seeds from a single population of over 50 plants can be nearly impossible. I’ve had days where I’ve been out all day long, and scoured the population of over 100 individuals for barely more than 1,000 seeds. Thats the harsh truth about the Mojave. When it blooms, it blooms like crazy, but for the most part, things are not doing a whole heck of a lot. Often, your timing has to be just right to get anything out of these plants.

Case and point. One of my favorite places to collect is one of our canyons known as Surprise canyon, in Panamint Valley.Its one of our few perennially wet canyons, and it boasts a glorious plant assemblage, including some very spectacular special status species, and some endemics to the Death Valley region, to  which Panamint Valley is adjacent. From cliff growing cacti and phacelias to the gigantic Panamint daisies (the flower heads are about 5-7 inches

My mentor next to a Panamint daisy. She's about 5'6".

across), Surprise is one of my favorite locals. And you never know what you’ll find. Case and point, when I was out in lower Surprise, collecting capsules from Eucnide urens, (my gloves did nothing to stop the sting) I found a plant that completely baffled me. It took me a few days to figure it out, and what it turned out to be was Anulocaulis annulatus, an endemic to the area. As I was observing the plant, I saw something on the flowers that I thought was so interesting that I needed to photograph it.

Guess what's happening.

Instead of trying to explain what I saw, I’ll show you (left), and see if you can tell what’s going on. If you can, I’ll be very impressed, because thus far, nobody I’ve shown this to (including several biologists at the office) have figured it out without me giving hints. Let’s see what those young brains’ve got!

Now, I’d love to collect this plant, but seeing as the only population I’ve found has only 10 plants, and they aren’t pumping out seeds like an orchid, its just not going to happen. Its the conundrum of this place. Can’t collect many of the species, because the populations are just not big enough, or they’re special status. We’ve got over 700 species of plant out here, including 32 special status ones, but most of them can’t be collected, because they’re so spread out that they don’t fit the criteria for a continuous population, or they just don’t make enough seeds. But, what’cha `gona do?

Forrest Fruend, BLM Ridgecrest, CA

Here in the dusty sagebrush  of southern Wyoming, my co-intern Brandon Fessler and I have become just what the title of this post suggests. It took some time to accept that we would find any amphibians in this unkind environment, but once the snows of spring had melted our spirits had begun to improve.

Catch of the day - tiger salamander larvae, yum!

menace

The bulk of our time has been spent driving for hours around the Rawlins BLM field district in search of amphibians wherever they may reside. During these expeditions, ever under the relentless and menacing stare of antelope, we have witnessed the miraculously swift metamorphosis of great basin spadefoot toads in tiny puddles of water and we’ve found tiger salamanders flourishing in the most isolated high desert springs.

A puddle of spadefoot toad tadpoles - hope they live!

Throughout the summer we have had the pleasure of assisting the Fish and Wildlife Service with Endangered Species Act related research. Foremost of these is the wyoming toad (Anaxyrus baxteri) reintroduction program. The endangered Wyoming toad is a close relative of the more common woodhouse’s toad, but is isolated to only a handful of plains lakes just west of Laramie.

Toad surgery (PIT tag being inserted subcutaneous)

Our work with the Wyoming toads involved helping conduct surveys for individuals around these lakes. They were quite scarce, but we managed to come upon a few, including an adult male that Brandon had the privilege of PIT tagging for future identification. Wyoming toads have been thought to abstain from breeding in the wild, but one our co-surveyors did happen to find a young of the year toadlet during our last effort. Perhaps there is still hope for the toads.

Timothy C. R. Barwise
Amphibian Monitoring Intern
BLM – Rawlins Field Office
Rawlins, Wyoming

swabbing for fungus, more fun than it sounds.

This week Tim and I had the pleasure of being part of an inter-agency toad force, searching in the Snowy Mountains for the declining Boreal Toad (Anaxryus [Bufo] boreas boreas). Joined by our boss, Fisheries Biologist Shawn Anderson, we went out with Wyoming Game and Fish State Herpetologist Zack Walker and his Herp Tech John. Being in the pine forest was a nice change of pace from our usual surveys in the sagebrush flats that make up the majority of the Rawlins field office (even though most of the forest is dead, as a result of a pine beetle infestation, so we just pretend it’s autumn and conifers turn colors… ). To our surprise we found some toads, they were little ones, young of the year, which indicates that at that location the toads are breeding.

Boreal Toad - Surprise, I'm not extirpated!

The boreal toad (also know as the western toad) was formally a common amphibian in the west, frequently seen in mountain lakes and wet meadows. Due to a skin fungus (Batrachochytrium dendrobatitis) and habitat degradation, the toads have been experiencing a severe decline across their range, especially in the Southern Rocky Mountains. In addition to the toads we also found a number of wood frogs, another high elevation amphibian which has been declining in this area, though not nearly as drastically as the boreal toad.

Northern leopard frog

We also spent time this week in the office aggregating our survey data to send to the US Fish and Wildlife Service. The leopard frog (Lithobates [Rana] pipiens) is being considered by the USFW for listing as a threatened species in the western part of its range.

Big ol' tiger salamander - tried to bite Tim, but soon gave up

During our general amphibian surveys this season we came across a number of leopard frog sites and so we took these occurrences from our database, mapped them in GIS, wrote a report and sent it all off. It’s very cool helping with this sort of process, it would be nice knowing our efforts contributed, if only in a minor way, to the protection of these beautiful frogs. This internship has been such an amazing experience, I hope to continue working with wildlife and habitat management in the future.

Brandon Fessler
Amphibian Monitoring Intern
BLM – Rawlins Field Office
Rawlins, Wyoming

It gets a bit hot during the summer in the eastern Utah desert. I am lucky to be able to somewhat escape every once in a while by heading to BLM land further north on the Green River. The riparian environment of the Green River is just that – green. And lush, at least for a few meters on either side of the bank.

Every once in a while, when I am caught up with other SOS and monitoring projects, I have the oppertunity to head up to John Jarvie Ranch/Historic Site, to deal with invasive riparian species. Along the way I get to meet and hang out with other seasonals and folks from my department that I would otherwise not get the chance to work with.

Circling osprey are everywhere. Great blue herons give us dirty looks as we creep up on them during their fishing expeditions. Numerous merganser duck families drift past. My all-time favorite though, are the occasional river otter family sightings as I paddle my way to work.

A spiny invasive known as teasel (introduced to make crafts, the dried heads look like little mice if you use your imagination and squint a bit) is what the crews have been after. 8-foot tall willow and saltcedar thickets must be combed through and the teasel cut down with the seedheads pulled off.

Did I mention that there is a Class III whitewater rapid on one of the river stretches that we are working on? I also keep an eye out for new populations of the water-loving, threatened Ute Lady Tress orchid.

This is oddly satisfying work. If the job keeps going, this invasive can potentially be banished from the Upper Green. Seeing proper land management in action, achieving results, is amazing, and I am stoked to be a part of the process, even if just for a few days.

Peace,

Katie Frey, Vernal, Utah

My CLM internship experience so far has been very rewarding. I am working on a challenging project focused on non-conifer vegetation communities in the Cascade Siskiyou National Monument of southern Oregon. My co-worker Jason Pennell and I have surveyed over 150 polygons ranging from oak woodlands to meadows. Learning to accurately identify everything (grasses, forbs, shrubs, and trees) was tough at first but now I feel like I have really got to know the local vegetation. We also gathered structural data for the oak stands and the percent cover for each plant species. We are now working on analyzing the huge amount of data we have collected. We want to understand the environmental variables which drive these communities, so we are using GIS to gather data on variables such as slope, aspect, and soil type for our surveyed polygons. We then will use statistical programs (PC ordination and Hyper Niche) to analyze landscape level vegetation patterns and try to better understand which environmental variables drive these communities. Needless to say it’s a big project and I am learning a ton.

Also I would like to say that I am very grateful for intern programs such as this, which bring together students and land managers. I feel like land management agencies really need innovative thinking and fresh ideas. Students on the other hand can learn a lot about the complexities of real world conservation issues when exposed to the inner workings of government agencies. I know I have!

The last thing I would like to mention is how many helpful people I have met during this internship. I unfortunately did not make it to the CLM gathering in Grand Canyon (which I later really regretted), but I have met many wonderful people along the way and that’s what life is all about!

Thank you CBG, for giving us all this awesome opportunity.

From: Kelly McD, BLM Medford, Oregon

Life is good here in the desert. The town of Cedarville, where I sleep in a bed once a week, with a population of 800, now feels busy. The rest of the week we’re out in the Black Rock desert, in the Jackson range, hunting around for rare and invasive plant species. We have a favorite place to camp that is by a little creek, a rare natural feature in the desert. In the creek we have built up rocks downstream from an existing pool and now have a cool, wonderful, bubbly bath. The swallows fly down the canyon and miss our heads by inches as we soak off the days work and they deftly pluck insects out of the dry air. Bats and nighthawks arrive in shifts at dusk. Lightning flashes in the distance. The silences are so loud they hurt your ears and the blood pulsing through your body is the only sound, perhaps mixing with the wind. There are times when no one speaks and the silence is not nervous. We read out loud to each other, eat big complicated dinners, and sleep to the sound of the creek, thunder, crickets, and the patter of rain on our tents. I often dream in rich metaphor, of friends, and loved ones both alive and dead. We take up our little space, separated by discrete distances, much like the desert flora. Each object highlighted by rock and sand like an art exhibit. I realize now why people fall in love with the desert. It is raw and terribly beautiful. During the day we walk through canyons past old wooden wagon wheel axles, abandoned mines, and small creeks struggling to stay above the rock. We crush sage, coyote mint, and yarrow. The aromatic phytochemicals assault the senses. -e-

From Erik and Tara, Cedarville, written June 19th.

Since the intern training in June/July, I’ve worked on updating the BLM’s Oregon  State Office public botany webpage, tested a survey protocol for Johnson’s hairstreak butterfly with fellow intern Candace Fallon, cleaned seeds at the Berry Botanic Garden, and completed many other not-so-interesting tasks.

The updated webpage isn’t ready yet, but when it is you’ll be able to find it at: http://www.blm.gov/or/programs/botany/index.php

The butterfly survey was a lot of fun, especially since I got to work on it with Candace :).  Callophrys johnsoni, or Johnson’s hairstreak, is a rare butterfly that lives in Oregon and Washington.  Its host is a Dwarf mistletoe that only grows on Western hemlock.  Armed with neon orange safety vests, orange and blue hard hats, heavy-duty boots, and a butterfly net, we walked ever-so-slowly along a seldom used dirt road.  Closely inspecting the Western hemlock foliage with net in hand I looked like a recent insane asylum escapee.  I received confirmation of the strangeness of my appearance not only from Candace, but also when I talked to a group of highschoolers and showed them photos: “Why are you wearing a hard hat when all you’re doing is looking for butterflies?”   The only reply I could think of: “It’s a dangerous job.”

Cleaning seeds at a Botanic Garden isn’t quite so dangerous.  Just slightly more glamorous, the job requires that you can remove extra plant debris from around seeds, count hundreds of them for many hours, and  package them in such a way that they have no chance of escaping.  Stored in a walk-in refrigerator, the Garden’s collection of rare seeds is quite impressive.

I hope that all of your summers are going well.  I am excited to be starting my Master’s program in Geography at Portland State University at the end of September- I hope to do my thesis on the impacts of climate change on Oregon endemic plant species.  If any of you have ideas or resources, let me know!!

Take care,

Camille Duncan, BLM Oregon State Office, Portland, OR

Hey everyone!

I am so excited to have been able to be a part of such a great internship program! I’m doing things at my internship that I would’ve never dreamed I’d get a chance to do! I am working in Hollister, California in San Benito County since May 2009 with the Bureau of Land Management. I’m in the central coast/central valley region of California, which puts me in proximity to San Jose, Monterey, Santa Cruz, and San Francisco, which is very exciting and interesting! My office mainly manages two large areas: Panoche/Tumey Hills and Clear Creek Management Area (CCMA). When I work in the Panoche/Tumey Hills, I am usually getting the opportunity to survey for fossilized materials, which usually consists of Mosasaur or Hadrosaur bones, petrified wood, and conifer needle and branch fossil impressions. While working in Clear Creek Management Area, I am usually surveying populations of endemic plant species on serpentine soil (such as Layia discoidea). My boss, Ryan O’Dell, is the natural resources specialist (soil/botany) in my office and works closely with serpentine soil restoration and ecology. The main project I have been working on during my internship is creating a paleontological data map (from past and present fossil material surveys) on ArcGIS. It has been a very rewarding experience to be able to work with ArcGIS. Overall, I am really enjoying my internship experience in Hollister, California with the BLM. I am really thankful for such a great program and the opportunity to work in areas I never imagined I’d ever be able to! Thanks!!!

Panoche/Tumey Hills

Hadrosaur excavation (fossil vertebrae shown)

Clear Creek Management Area (serpentine soil outcrop = the bluish stuff)

Layia discoidea (serpentine endemic species)

*Kelly Bougher
Bureau of Land Management
Hollister Field Office – California