It’s Monday morning and we are getting ready for a full week in the field. We will spend this week, like the past two, searching slopes for Ivesia webberi, which has a threatened status under the ESA. Each morning, we will unfold the various GIS maps we made designating the survey area and determine where we will search that day. Using the GPS, maps, and compasses, we spend the day walking transects, trying to cover every square foot of the possible habitat for the species.

Surveying for rare plants is definitely a high-effort, low-reward field activity, and some might find it boring to walk for hours in a straight line, spaced with fellow surveyors at 15 foot intervals. I admit, it can be a bit discouraging to survey for days with no sign of our target species. Mostly, though, I am just thankful that my job allows me to hike all day. I may be staring at the ground most of the time, but that means I see every plant (and insect, and reptile) I pass. There is nothing like the wide open skies in sagebrush country, so I can’t complain about hiking under those.

A perfect mid-survey lunch spot.

Last week, persistent rain forced us to return to the office after just two days of surveys, and a few skids on the muddy roads on the way out of the field made us glad we hadn’t left any later than we did. This week, with temperatures of 90 degrees to look forward to, I don’t think we’ll have that problem. Hopefully, by the time we troop back into the office, dusty from a week of walking, we’ll have found some more Ivesia webberi to report to the Fish and Wildlife Service!

Last fall, when I rolled down the leeward side of the Sierra Nevada and landed in the Mojave Desert, I finally understood why the word “enchanted” is so often used to describe the southwestern landscape. To someone born and raised east of the Mississippi, the desert looks impossible, a landscape too strange to exist. Bare ground dotted here and there with lonely shrubs; enormous, rounded boulders piled haphazardly together like toys; the eerie sight of Joshua trees, arms outstretched, waiting for some unknown sign that may never come. I was only able to stay for a few days, but I had a feeling that I would be back sooner rather than later. Lo and behold, here I am, beginning my 24th year as a Las Vegas local, and an intern of the US Geological Survey.

The Mojave Desert, just south of the Hoover Dam.

Compared to the cold desert of the Intermountain West, the warm southwestern deserts of North America have a remarkable history of escaping postcolonial mass disturbance. The Mojave and Sonoran regions are too hot and dry to support large-scale livestock operations, and are not as rich in fossil fuels as their northern counterpart. In short, the landscape didn’t have much to offer, so there was little reason to tear it up. However, in the last several decades rising incidence of severe wildfires and the development of renewable resource infrastructure in the southwest has made ecological restoration a priority, particularly in regards to desert tortoise critical habitat. The Mojave Desert and Sonoran Basin and Range Native Plant Programs were created to begin developing native seed sources for restoration needs in accordance with the national Native Plant Materials Development program. This is a massive, long-term undertaking involving seed collection, genetic and ecological experimentation, and collaboration with an assortment of interest groups, from public land managers to private business owners.

Before any of these steps can be taken, however, land managers must first determine which species to use for landscape-scale restoration. In desert ecosystems, where succession takes place on a scale of decades to centuries, it is particularly important to carefully select pioneer, mid-, and late-seral assemblages that can transition smoothly from one to the next. This is where I come in. My job is to develop lists of priority restoration species for both the Mojave Desert and the Sonoran Basin and Range ecoregions. Both of these programs are in their infancy, so while this internship project is a hefty responsibility, I also have considerable room for creativity.

The first item on my plate is to enhance the Mojave Desert list. For the first few weeks of my internship, I educated myself on the ecology of North America’s smallest warm desert, particularly in regards to succession of disturbed communities and the impact of invasive annual grasses such as Bromus madritensis. Once I felt I had a good working knowledge of the ecosystem, I set to work. Researchers at my field office had already developed a species list regarding the diet and cover plant needs of desert tortoise, but other important taxa, namely pollinators, had been neglected. Using this original list and other literature on diet and cover plants used by G. agassizii as my baseline, I compiled a list of candidates. I then researched each species individually to assess its potential use in restoration projects; this involved researching traits like successional stage, ease of collection, propagation, and seed storage, and whether or not each plant hosted native pollinators.  

Desert Globemallow (Sphaeralcea ambigua) with some insect visitors.

Unfortunately, I quickly learned that there is a great dearth of information on pollinators of the Mojave Desert. Aside from a few highly impressive natural history papers from the 1950’s – 70’s, very little research has been conducted on native insects and their relationships with desert plants. Considering that the desert southwest is a hotspot for bee diversity, I found this surprising, not to mention frustrating! A 2006 USDA study found that in Carbon County, NV alone, there are nearly 600 species of native bees, over 30 of which are endemic (for more information, look up the Pollination Ecology Final Report for the Clark Co., NV 2003 Biennium). Environmental heterogeneity in desert regions promotes evolutionary divergence, and speciose taxa range from pupfish to insects to cacti. Combined with a high incidence of monolecty (ecological relationships in which a host species is visited by only one pollinator species), this makes the Mojave Desert a difficult but imperative environment in which to conduct pollinator research.

Much of what pollinator research has been done in the Mojave focuses on Larrea tridentata, the iconic creosote bush. As a ubiquitous, dominant presence throughout the Mojave, Larrea is visited by over one hundred species of bee, twenty of which are specialists. With such a massive guild and widespread distribution, one wonders if creosote facilitates pollination of other desert plants, acting as a pollen “pit stop” of sorts. While L. tridentata already performs many services to its community, if this idea is correct, creosote bush may turn out be even more important to warm desert ecosystems than we realize!

The iconic creosote bush (Larrea tridentata) at the Eureka Dunes in Death Valley National Park.

After several weeks of work, my principal investigators and I are in the revision stages of the Mojave Desert priority species list. Our ultimate goal is to craft a tool that land managers can use in conjunction with seed transfer zones, a novel and instrumental tool to help land managers effectively source native seed for use in revegetation and restoration projects, to make the best choice of a species suite for use in restoration projects. Such tools would expedite the process of restoring public lands with seeds that are best suited to each project restoration site.

In addition to reading papers and writing species profiles, I have had the opportunity to assist with ecotype research at the USGS greenhouse and a few of the common gardens that are established in the Mojave Desert. This spring, we have been growing Chylismia brevipes and Plantago ovata in the greenhouse. Chylismia will be outplanted in a garden south of Las Vegas as part of a study of native plant transplantation methods. The Plantago seeds will be harvested and used in other restoration experiments. Much of the greenhouse work involved daily hand-pollinating sessions for the Chylismia (as we cannot allow it to cross-pollinated between populations and genetically muddy our research specimens) and bagging the P. ovata to ensure that we don’t lose any seed to natural dispersal. In the gardens, I have assisted with monthly plant assessments, conducting morpho- and phenological measurements of Ambrosia dumosa, L. tridentata, Sphaeralcea ambigua, and Achnatherum hymenoides. These assessments are part of a long-term ecological research project on the limitations of seed source in restoration sites across the Mojave Desert. The results from this research further contribute to the development of seed transfer zones.

A suncup blossom (Chylismia brevipes), ready to be hand-pollinated!

A tray of desert plantain (Plantago ovata), some of which has been sacked in order to prevent seed escape!

And, since 40 hours a week of researching and working with native plants isn’t enough, I have also spent quite a few evenings and weekends botanizing in the amazing natural areas that surround Las Vegas. Lake Mead National Recreation Area, Red Rocks National Recreation Area, Death Valley National Park, and Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge are just a few of the places I have ventured into, armed with my hand lens and a borrowed copy of the Jepson Desert Manual. As I am not spending a substantial amount of time out in the field during my internship, this is a way for me to both enjoy desert natural areas and begin to learn the flora of the Mojave. A few of my favorite spring-flowering desert plants have been sand blazing star (Mentzelia involucrata), turpentine-broom (Thamnosma montanus), Mojave hedgehog cactus (Echinicereus triglochidiatus), ground cherry (Physalis crassifolia), and desert sandmat (Euphorbia albomarginata).  

Ground cherry (Physalis crassifolia), a member of Solanaceae.

Sand blazingstar (Mentzelia involucrata), a member of Loaceae, a family that I’d never encountered before coming to the Mojave!

Whitemargin sandmat (Euphorbia albomarginata), a member of Euphorbiaceae and possibly my favorite desert wildflower.

To my knowledge, this is the first CLM internship of its kind. It’s been very exciting to be part of such groundbreaking work. After my work on the Mojave Desert is finished, I’ll be working on a similar document for the Sonoran Basin and Range – an ecosystem which, with its biannual blooms and distinct subdivisions, may prove to be even more challenging to understand than its northern counterpart.

I arrived in the quirky town of Buffalo, WY on May 10th, which gave me a few days to settle in before starting work on the following Monday. Moving in was a relief after driving 2,000 miles from Massachusetts in a matter of days. I was pleasantly surprised by how welcoming the town’s residents have been. Buffalo is a far cry from my city of Worcester, MA, but it is a welcome change of pace. The close community of a small town like Buffalo has quite the charm. I’ve had the chance to explore some of the town’s shops and restaurants as well as the surrounding areas. The landscape is incredible, though vastly different from the New England forests I know and love.

Starting my internship with the BLM has been exciting, but not without hiccups. Getting my Access card and account set up for work has been a slow process as a result of some miscommunication. Luckily everything should be good to go next week! I haven’t been able to do much of the online trainings, so until then I’m filing paperwork and organizing data. I really don’t mind either of these tasks. I’ve found them to be meditative almost in their repetitive nature. I did get out in the field this past Wednesday to check out a small oil spill and an improperly installed culvert. Had I been by myself, I definitely would’ve gotten lost on the back roads we took. So far I’ve learned a good deal about navigating Wyoming and the BLM’s roles in resource extraction. Next week is packed full of training, and I’m sure I’ll have plenty to write about!

Until Next Time,

Jess McDermott

Alternative Training Opportunity

I feel like my knowledge of first aid was definitely lacking, and don’t know what I would do should something happen to myself or a companion if weren’t able to get help immediately. As a replacement for the training workshop at the Chicago Botanic Garden I took a Wilderness First Responder certification course. Now, I’m very confident in my ability to handle emergency medical situations in the field, though I hope I never have to use those skills…

Understand that prevention is the best medicine. Never purposely attempt to put crew members in harm’s way. Euthanasia is also strongly discouraged, and is illegal to perform in a wilderness setting.

I got to Buffalo, WY a little over a week ago, a timespan that seems impossibly short given the whirlwind of moving, meeting, and mingling that has occupied everything since. Oh, to think back on that young lass, doe-eyed and naive in the ways of AIM methodology and Wyoming weather patterns. Now, a week-long lifetime later, wise to unbiased sample design and the importance of QA/QC, I shiver forth through a foot of Mid-May snow where previously I wore shorts. It’s honestly awesome.

The snowy ride back from Lander. Though not ideal for field work, it makes for the most glorious landscape.

Buffalo’s a sweet town in north eastern Wyoming with a great public library (statewide interlibrary loans!! amazing!!) and a population of 4,585. I am one of nine CLM interns at the field office, all of whom are pretty rad and it’s been nice to flow through that getting-to-know-you process and begin to familiarize with actual people instead of anticipatory illusions. Six of us are dealing with veg so we share a room and a lot of time. We’ve been in Lander, WY for the past couple days, learning about AIM, DIMA, and Calibration, all of which has been fun as an intro to sound data management and this internship, though I remain dubious of my capability when it comes to grass ID.

Intern crew! Whiling lunchtime away at our training field site.

In that vein, this first week has mostly consisted of training. Training to collect data, training to drive government vehicles, training to find the grocery store, training to then find the cheaper grocery store in the next town over (s/o to Sheridan). As overwhelming as the work-related information has been to take in, the culture shock is what’s really bent me backwards. It’s lessening exponentially, but just as a point of reference, when I got here I didn’t even know Buffalo Bill was a real person. Thought he was just some fictional character made of myth. Serious egg on my face. As an adult, I’ve never needed a car or ridden a horse and I’ve always been able to rely on cell service and walk down the street while maintaining some anonymity. This will be, quite distinctly, my first rodeo. And as embarrassing and uncomfortable as ignorance is, I am extremely grateful to get this opportunity to learn the ropes, explore new territory, and grow both in plant knowledge and personally. It’s going to be a good summer 🙂

A riveting roller coaster on the Buffalo scene circa 1866.

“Drive slowly. Watch out for the speed limits” was something I needed to remember on my second day of work, but, instead, was reminded by the very serious officer looking through my window. The conversation went as follows:

Him: Is there a medical reason why you’re going 28 on a 15
Me: Besides the fact that I’m new and the speed limit in LA is 120, no.
Him: Tries not to chuckle. “Can I see your license please”
Me: Late to work and a reckless driver…great.

I’ve been in Fairbanks for less than a week, and already, I’m the speeding maniac. Needless to say, it’s been six days of transitioning to a new place that could not be more different than city life in southern California. The mosquitoes, green scenery, very large trucks, and the nearly twenty four hours of sunlight has given me quite the culture shock, in a good way. That being said, there are some things that remind me of home, like the plethora of fast food chains and the shockingly big Barnes and Noble. Unlike SoCal, the weather has been unpredictable with chilly rainy mornings to warm (65 degrees) in the afternoons. However, according to the locals, this is very predictable and nice whether. I believe it.

Currently, I am staying at the barracks located on Fort Wainwright. The first couple of days were challenging here, because I did not have the proper identification to get on/off base. So, for future CBG/CLM interns who will be living out of the barracks, you will need your Drivers ID and a visitors pass. Once the DOI access card comes in, you will be able to get on/off base. My plan for now is to stay at the barracks for the rest of the summer, since it is the cheapest option in Fairbanks. Also, since most cabins in Fairbanks don’t have water, I’m more inclined to stay at the barracks. The biggest drawback with the barracks is not having a kitchen. I LOVE to cook. I HATE eating out. Luckily, I’ve managed to get a mini frig and a toaster oven (thanks to a friendly soldier). So, I’m making it work for now.

With all that is new, it’s easy to forget that I’m actually here for employment. The office feels like an attraction at the amusement park. It’s located in beautiful pine trees and has an amazing view of the Chena River. It’s also a giant maze, and I keep getting lost. My mentor, Ruth, gave me a tour of both floors, and towards the end of the tour, she showed me the hidden gym. I was shocked by the fact that there was a gym inside the building! How cool is that! But, I don’t think I’ll be using it much, because I haven’t been able to find it. Also, everyone in the office is so nice! I’m really excited to explore all the possible opportunities outside of this internship, because so far, Fairbanks is really great.

Besides getting lost in the office, I’ve also been doing work. So far, this internship has been very different from my first internship last summer in Susanville, CA. On my second day last summer, I was already out in the field collecting Elymus elymoides, squirrel tail. Perhaps it was because of how late we, the CLM crew, started, but this time around, I’m spending the first few weeks catching up with some training. This includes: WFA, ATV/UTV, Bear Safety/Awareness, Aviation, Invasive Species, FISSA and much more! In two weeks, we’ll be flying to Anchorage for a meeting to discuss revegetation of mined lands. Later in the internship, I’ll also be taking a GIS course at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks (UAF), which will substitute the training in Chicago. Soon, I’ll be incredibly busy helping out with invasive plant management and terrestrial AIM surveys. I am excited to start the field season, and hopefully can survive the bugs. There is so much that I am looking forward to, and I am curious to see how much will happen between now and the next blog post. Hopefully, you are too!