It continues to be an enjoyable time here in Cedar City – full of learning and adventures!
I started off the month with a prairie dog training at, yes, a golf course. It’s quite a sight to see so many prairie dogs running around or peeking out of a burrow while a player is hitting a ball. I learned the procedure for translocating prairie dogs and got lots of practice setting traps, weighing, tagging and finally releasing them at their new location. Although taking them to a less desirable and unfamiliar habitat was not the best feeling, getting to work so closely with them was an extremely rewarding experience. I look forward to learning all I can about prairie dogs and doing my part in helping increase their population.

The next project involved installing reflectors to make a fence more visible for wildlife. Being the first time we were sent out on our own, it was sure to turn into a memorable day. It’s not surprising how you can easily start to get nervous when you are on your own, unsure of where you are, lose communication with your partner, run out of water all while it is starting to get a little late. As I look back, I smile because I know it’s all part of the learning experience!

For the past couple of weeks, I moved on to doing wildlife clearances that involved inspecting an area for signs of sensitive species and reporting on the general habitat encountered. This is an excellent opportunity to be observing all of the surroundings and practice learning plants, birds, and signs indicating the presence of animals. Although I have not yet encountered sage grouse in my outings, sightings of a golden eagle, red tailed hawk, or a Swainson’s hawk are always exciting. Of course, while being out in the field all day, things are bound to happen. Seeing how sunny days can easily turn into a thunderstorm, a cloudy day is something to be weary of during monsoon season. I learned this on Tuesday as my partner and I got soaked while running to the truck to seek cover from the hail. I have to say, these unexpected days do tend to end up being the most fun.

All in all, it’s been an awesome month. I am excited for the experiences to come!

For the last few weeks in Arcata, I have been killing lots of Douglas-fir. My pulaski and handsaw have felled or girdled seedlings, saplings, and young trees (no older than 80 years). Douglas-fir/Tanoak forests dominate the Coast Ranges of NW California. In these mountains there are pockets of prairies, offering ecological heterogeneity to wildlife and vegetation. Similar to the story all over the USA, wildfire suppression has deprived grasslands of their main safeguard against forest encroachment. And since it isn’t practical to bring prescribed burning crews and engines to all BLM-managed prairies on their historic burning intervals, I have been lending an unnatural hand (evolutionarily speaking) to the grassy strongholds.

Prairie with another small prairie across the valley.

As my hours here quickly dwindle, my fondness for this area continues to grow. The mountains and redwoods seem taller now. The eyes through which I perceive the landscape have changed dramatically over the last 4 months. As my understanding of the area increases, I have been aware of a deepening of my vision. Here follows the timeline of my blossoming understanding.

When I first arrived, Arcata was nestled between hills and coastal plains. About a month later, when from the ocean I saw a full moon rise over the town, in my mind the “hills” became mountains (of course they have always been mountains). A month after that, with my radius of exploration expanding, I could feel how the mountains east of Arcata fit into the context of ranges extending along the coast and east to the Central Valley. A few weeks after that, as I visited new vantage points, the estuaries on the coast were integrated (in my mind) with their river valleys penetrating multiple ranges. I learned the directions the rivers travel to their origins, as steep as 6,000’ above and 113 river miles from their estuaries. Recently, I comprehended the entire canyon shape of a BLM-managed tributary to a larger creek. In the diverse landscapes of The West, the potential depth of understanding is limitless! And I have only been here for 4 months, so I know that my eyes are only absorbing a fraction of what a lifelong local sees.

My ability to assimilate the details of a Northern California landscape is infinitely greater now. My two CLM internships have taught me that it takes me months to graduate from seeing a landscape to seeing a landscape IN ITS CONTEXT. This is the natural progression of understanding in general. We can only increase our understanding so much at a time. But once our circle of understanding is expanded, we can build more circles starting from that circle. Pretty soon, a bigger picture emerges – the Flower of Life. Perhaps this is the most appropriate symbolic representation of my time working for the Chicago Botanic Garden!

The Flower of Life. I’ve been seeing this all over Arcata but I didn’t learn its name until yesterday.

The Fourth of July is a big deal in a small town. Burns, OR hosts a parade, hotdog feed, and fireworks. I emerged from my house around 9:30 to walk to Broadway in “downtown” Burns where the parade was to take place. Families lined the street on both sides. It was good to see all the Burnsonians out and about. The Girls Scouts marched by holding their banner, various city trucks came by, and the Queen of the Rodeo rode her horse. The director of the BLM also came by to chat and I saw several other BLM employees. You never know who you’ll run into.

I returned home for the second activity of my Fourth of July, which was a grass identifying tutorial given to me by my roommate and fellow CLM intern, Ariana Gloria-Martinez. She knows much about grasses and speaks freely with them in a language I cannot yet fully understand. First, she patiently explained the parts of the inflorescence: spikelet, glume, lemma, palea, ligule, auricle, leaf sheath, node, blade, rachis. Next she went through each tribe of grass, giving me details about their identifying characteristics. For example, the aristideae tribe tends to have three awned lemmas. I assiduously took notes. It was a wonderful activity for the fourth of July because, in my opinion, identifying grasses is patriotic. I shall continue to practice my grass identification in the hopes of learning more of their secrets.

To finish up the fourth, I made an extremely large dinner and headed to the fireworks at the county fairgrounds. The conversation of a small child with his grandparents in the car next to me kept me entertained during the spectacular show. I certainly feel lucky to be able to enjoy such community activities.

It’s monsoon season here in Cedar City. For us intrepid field workers, this more often than not means watching it rain a dozen miles away while we bake in the sun. Sometimes, however, it can be quite the opposite. On Tuesday morning this week, we found ourselves drenched to the bone and pelted by pea-sized hail as we sprinted back to our truck from the field. Regardless of where the storms are happening, they are quite the spectacle to behold. Like everything else out here, they are (usually) reduced in comparison to the vast scale of the landscape. It is something entirely new for me to watch, from a distance, as a cloud literally falls to the ground. With the rain comes lightning in abundance, and with the lightning comes fire. There is something about watching a mountain burn which evokes a kind of fear that feels very old. When I imagine my ancient ancestors and how wildfires would have threatened their lives and livelihoods this makes a lot of sense to me.

Water and fire are hardly the only dangers out here. On another Tuesday (Tuesdays are hard for me)  I found myself alone in a remote corner of our field office, in a radio dead zone, the sun going down and a storm approaching in the distance. My partner and I were hanging sage grouse reflectors, which are small pieces of plastic which you attatch to fences to increase visibility and decrease the chance of animals (like sage grouse) hurting themselves. We had split up to cover more ground, grossly underestimating the amount of fence we had to treat. This of course was the moment when I ran out of water. After several tense minutes of unsuccessful attempts, I was able to raise my counterpart on the radio and put together a plan of where to meet (we do that beforehand now). As I slogged my way to the meeting point, hauling my equipment with me and keeping an eye on the approaching storm, I heard an unusual noise that stopped me in my tracks.

Rattlesnakes do not all sound like they do in the movies. This rattle was very high pitched and sharp, a short burst of sound not unlike a cicada or some other insect. The rattles’ owner did not seem particularly happy with my approach, with its head raised and its eyes centered on me. I took the point, backed away slowly, and the snake continued on its way cautiously. I gave it a wide berth and continued on my own.

This short but intense encounter gave me another taste of that primal fear that we as a species have evolved with, but it also left me with a profound gratitude for the evolutionary pressures which led to that unique organ that rattlesnakes wield. What if this had been some other snake, less noisy but equally venomous? When you think about it, it’s really quite nice of these snakes to warn us of their potentially deadly presence before finding it necessary to resort to violence. I’ll take a rattlesnake over a cobra or a copperhead any day of the week.

This kind of experience is, of course, a rare part of my job out here. Most of my time in the past month has been spent combing over different field sites for signs (usually fecal) of its inhabitants prior to a scheduled development of some sort. You might think that walking four miles along a proposed fence line in the midday sun, eyes trained on the immediate area around you, would be hard monotonous work, and it is, but every day I’m out there I find something new, be it as small and simple as some pretty mineral (there’s obsidian everywhere!) or a hummingbird I never expected to see, or watching a flock of over a hundred pinion jays fly by, making their laughing cries. This place continues to amaze me, and I can’t wait to see what it will show me next.

Lately we’ve been spending a good deal of our time thinking about the rain. Northwest New Mexico is currently experiencing what the USDA calls “extreme drought” (for more information about current drought conditions across the U.S. visit this website) and everyone here is holding their breath to see what this monsoon season will bring. Areas outside of Farmington are definitely getting some rain; we can see thunderstorms in the distance and some of our field sites are currently inaccessible due to flash flood conditions from rain that fell in the La Plata Mountains and elsewhere. For now, though, the plants in our district are still very, very thirsty.

Despite the drought, we have been able to make several collections from some very hardy plants. Last week we made a  robust collection of Hetrotheca villosa (false hairy goldenaster) from a population that is holding on to life in a dry wash. This species is especially fun to collect because the mature seed heads are similar to dandelions and are most easily collected using a handheld Dustbuster vacuum.

Heterotheca villosa (false hairy goldenaster) — one of the target species for the Colorado Plateau Ecoregion.

We also made our second collection of evening primroses for Dr. Krissa Skogen’s research on the Onagraceae family (more information about her research can be found here). We found a population of Oenothera pallida ssp. runcinata (pale evening primrose) along a shallow wash a few weeks ago, when the water was barely running. When we returned earlier this week, we could see that the floodwaters had risen dramatically and an area that had previously been dry land was covered in about two feet of water before receding again. Despite being caught in the flood, the little Oenothera were still hanging on! We really enjoy the opportunity to contribute to Dr. Skogen’s research and hope to spot more Onagraceae species.

Oenothera pallida ssp. runcinata (pale evening primrose). If you look closely you may be able to spot some hawk moth scales on the flower’s stigma.

One thing we  learned is that this is the season for baby horned lizards (also called horny toads). We’re really excited about this because most lizards are too fast too catch, but horned lizards are so pudgy that they are easy to scoop up as they waddle along. So far, we’ve caught several babies as well as a full-grown adult. The adult is about the size of my palm, while some of the smallest young lizards are smaller than my thumbnail. Finding horned lizards is considered good luck by the Navajo, so we’re hoping that it’s a good omen that we’ve been encountering so many.

An adult Phrynosoma hernandesi (greater short-horned lizard)

A newborn Phrynosoma hernandesi (greater short-horned lizard). Compare the size with the adult pictured above! Photo courtesy of Tess Johnstone.

We recently had the privilege to meet Dr. Richard Lee, one of the authors of the book Weeds of the West. Unbeknownst to us, Dr. Lee teaches a short course on invasive plants in Farmington every summer. It turns out that we live in a veritable invasive plant mecca! He came into town with a truck full of invasive plants that we stored in my cubicle and he was kind enough to invite us on his guided tour of invasive plants in the area. It was very useful to learn more about invasive plant species and definitely helped me learn what to look out for in the field.

My cubicle turned into a junge of a wide variety of invasive thistles, knapweeds and others for the day.

We hope to be very busy in a few weeks after we (hopefully) have some good rain and the plants perk up. In the meantime, do a rain dance for us!

Alright! So this is my real, final blog post. Not like that one from earlier in the month, that was just a practice. So, dear readers, what were my goals and expectations for this internship when I joined up, all the way back in March?

Well, my main goal was to learn as much as possible. I am, always have been, and always will be an enormous geek, wanting to learn as much as I can about the things that interest me. On that, I can definitely say I have succeeded. The CLM program has given me an amazing opportunity to learn about desert ecosystems, about life working for the Feds, and about essential land management skills. My plant ID skills have greatly improved, I got some great experience with vegetation and invasive species surveys, with seed collection, with herbicide use. Unlike most interns, I was mostly working in one particular area, but my mentor let me assist others around the office, so I do think I got to see enough of what goes on in this BLM office. All totaled I definitely got lots of great experience, and a new centerpiece for my resume.

I was also hoping to be able to stay with the BLM for a little while longer, but that was not an option. There’s just not enough money to go around. In my time here I’ve seen several people more qualified than me struggle to keep their jobs, and despite my mentor’s efforts, there isn’t any funding for me to continue on here. Obviously, I always knew this particular goal was a stretch and would have a lot to do with luck, so I’m not too disappointed. And on the bright side, I’ve just accepted a job with The Wetlands Initiative, a non-profit habitat restoration organization based in my home state of Illinois. I’m very excited about that job, and looking forward to getting started.

All in all, I have been very happy with my experiences with the CLM internship program. I’ve learned a lot, picked up some great work experience, and got to spend some time getting to know an incredible part of the world.

Thanks!
Joe

The past few weeks have been busy. During most of the second week of July I got to assist with bull trout surveys. They were at a site about an hour and a half out of town and because of the heat we wanted to start early each morning, so we camped at a site close by and were able to enjoy the mountains and rivers for a few days. The surveys consisted of electro-shocking the river, catching the trout that we could, and then weighing, measuring, I.D.ing, tagging, and releasing them. The data is used to see if fish are utilizing, and returning to, sites that were restored over the past few years.

The week after that I took a motorboat operator certification course offered by the Department of the Interior, and required by the government in order to operate federal boats. It was three days long and consisted of a few lectures as well as knot tying, rescue procedures, maneuvering drills, and driving with a trailer.

The past two weeks have been filled with data collection and water quality monitoring. The dissolved oxygen keeps moving to our threshold value, but hasn’t quite bottomed out yet, so we’ve been keeping a close eye on it and getting the aeration systems ready to go should we need to start them up to increase the DO. Next steps are to sample the fish that we have to see what percent are the suckers, and try to keep them healthy for the rest of the season!

Hello all!
Not a whole lot to report, working mostly on data collection at Rio Mesa Center for my Master’s project and when I’m not doing that I’ve been working on a database of restoration projects monitored by the Watershed Restoration Initiative in the Colorado Plateau. More info can be found here: http://wildlife.utah.gov/watersheds/. The hope is to use this database to track which species and cultivars are being used for restoration and be able to measure the effectiveness of these seeding efforts based on pre and post treatment monitoring data. This weekend I’m going back to Grand Staircase/Escalante to collect Heterotheca villosa for another master’s student’s thesis, which I’m pretty excited about. Here’s some photos of the last time we were there doing some SOS/research collections:

Our awesome REU intern, Lisa Hintz

Cheers!
Nora

Astragalus ceramicus at the Sandhills in Centennial Valley

Lots has been happening here in Dillon and the internship is going quite well.  My mentor and I have made eight collections for SOS already.  I love Montana and often find myself in awe of the immense amount of open spaces and wildlife Montana has to offer.  I even took to liking country music, mostly the old stuff like Dolly Parton.

Cool mutation in this Aster — click on the photo & you’ll notice it’s conjoined twins.

Beside collecting for SOS I have been fortunate enough to participate in lots of different monitoring and projects.  Last week my mentor and I helped the Nature Conservancy folks monitor a very unique system of Sand hills in Montana’s Centennial Valley.  It’s one of these weird systems where disturbance, over-grazing and uprooting plants is a GOOD thing because it creates ‘blow-outs’.

Blow-outs are basically exposed hills of sand.  It’s best if there’s not a lot of grass stabilizing the blow-outs, because several sensitive plant species and insects thrive on the disturbance the moving sand creates.The BLM and Nature Conservancy are closely monitoring the sand hills using fire, over-grazing, and other techniques to keep the disturbance rate high.  When we were there we monitored the frequency of bunch grass, rhizomatous grass, and a scruff pea.  A Nature Conservancy fellow and myself got in a bit of a skirmish about the pronunciation of ‘rhizomatous’.  He said ‘rhizomanous’ and I said ‘rhizomatous’.  We eventually came to the conclusion ‘tomato’ ‘tomahto’ although according to google I am right. The endemic species in sand hill system were absolutely incredible.  Especially stunning was this type of Astragalus specialized to live in the sand hills called Astragalus ceramicus.

They look like little easter eggs hanging from stems with linear leaves– not your typical Astragalus.

Wetland Plant training with the Heritage Foundation

The photo above is from a very helpful riparian plant training along the Beaverhead River with the Heritage Foundation.

Most recently I went to an amazing training on Moonworts.

Moonworts, also known as Botrychium, are plants from before the dinosaurs related to the ferns. The dust from their spores is said to have powers to make people invisible. The entire plant family of moonworts was largely forgotten until the 1980’s when University of Michigan biologists Herb and Florence Wagner dedicated roughly ten years to looking for them. They are mostly found in moist meadows of the Rocky Mountains. Their chloroplasts are like our appendix…. inactive. They get all the need from fungus and the entire plant is considered one leaf. The Forest Service had a training with Moonwort Specialist Steve Popovich and I was honored to participate.

Best,

L.G.M.

Things are heating up here in Lander, Wyoming!  One of the perks of being out in the field most every day is that you get an intimate view of the seasonal progression.  When I first got to Wyoming I was blown away by the wildflowers.  Fields dominated by Balsam Root littered with patches of dainty Sego Lily and scattered Larkspurs made me think I was living in a post card!  A wet fall was the cause of this forb-ilicious spring.  I consider this first half of my internship as my “reconnaissance” phase.  I spent most of my time driving around the field office on the hunt for my plants and then visiting them about once a week. A lot of my time in the office is spent keying out unknown plants supplied by myself and everyone else in the office.  I could not have been in Wyoming for a better spring.

As the spring showers slow down the dry summer heat amps up and my fields of flowers turn into fields of brown grass.  The month of July has been a race against time to collect all the seeds before they drop, and believe me, those seeds don’t collect themselves!  I’ve completed around 10 collections so far with more coming in every week!  It has been a great year for grasses too!  As the spring time flowers are seeding out, the grasses are getting ready to drop too.  Grasses are certainly not as glamorous as the showy forbes, but are equally as important.

As time marches on my list of favorite flowers grows and changes depending on their seed productivity.  Lately I’ve been a huge fan of the prolific Northwestern Indian Paintbrush (Castilleja angustifolia), while the increasingly unfriendly Miner’s Candle (Cryptantha celiosoides) has fallen a few notches down.

The seed flow has kept me busy but has not stopped me from going to a few rodeos, dancing a few two steps, visiting a couple of ghost towns and going to a TON of garage sales.

Things are chugging along here in the Cowboy State.

Emily Usher

Lander BLM