July is a month to celebrate—America’s independence, the heat of the summer before it gets too old, interns (national intern day is July 27^th, according to nationaltoday.com). In the botany department at Tonasket ranger district, we celebrated finishing our ongoing survey of an inhospitable 10-ish mile stream system, Maria’s (pronounced Mariah’s) Creek. At times, I believed that the spirit of Maria was alive and well, out for mine and my coworkers’ blood. And blood she got.

Maria’s Creek is situated within a canyon, adjacent to a well-traveled USFS road. Though the road sees plenty of traffic, most of the stream seems to have been abandoned by humankind many years ago. The creek is narrow, almost as deep as it is wide in most spots. As inhospitable as it is to someone like me, it is a haven for plants, particularly the varieties with thorns and other lines of defense. Each bank of Maria’s creek is thick with Rosa woodsii, Ribes lacustre, with scattered surprise spots of Urdica dioica. Bravely, we fought our way through the waist-high roses and pushed past patches of stinging nettle to search for sensitive plants that prefer to make riparian habitats their home.

Maria didn’t want to make things too easy for us, though, and bush whacking can be tedious but not always hazardous. Her preferred method of spicing up the “trail” was through fallen trees. In certain spots, crisscrossing logs, fallen from the canyon side far above, were so dense there were no other options but to hop from trunk to branch, praying neither the rotting wood nor your shaky balance gave out. On our first day surveying the creek, David fell victim to a log that had been there a bit too long to be of much support; falling straight into the running stream below. Perhaps the rest of us should have taken that as a prediction for how the rest of the day would go.

Sweaty, bruised, and battered, the crew made it two and a half miles on our first day in the creek. Judging by the downtrodden feeling in the pit of my stomach, my spirit felt like we had made it much farther. Over the next two weeks, we took breaks to visit nicer creeks and wetlands in search of our target species, but always knew Maria was there, sadistically waiting for our return. Thirteen days after that first journey, the crew split up to finish our last few miles of Maria’s Creek surveys. That day, David and I were joined by some exceedingly bold cows, who moo’ed us towards our finish line.

Those of us not driving snoozed peacefully in the rig on our way back to the office that day, knowing we had conquered the beast, praying she doesn’t have co-conspirators elsewhere in our project area, lying in wait for unsuspecting botanists to get stuck in their trap. In my mind, July 18th will live on as a personal day of celebration. The day we said adieu to Maria’s Creek.

Another project we have focused on is assisting in the remodel of the Lytle Creek nursery to assist it in improving Phytophera BMP protocols and growing capacity. Our responsibility in this project was to remove two large Asclepias fasicularis beds and to transplant the milkweeds into pots for future nursery uses. It was lovely conducting this project as the place was filled with monarchs and their caterpillars. When removal was taking place, we took great care in checking if any of the plants had larvae or eggs and would treat them more gingerly. We spent the day disinfecting pots and utensils while also getting dirty in the mud!

Another major endeavor conducted this month was the collection and transportation of 100s of pounds of mulch to prepare for a restoration project taking place in Lake Arrowhead towards the end of September. This project was a day long endeavor and was incredibly labor intensive as it took a total of 4 hours to load and unload the mulch from trailer to restoration site. The mulch harvested for this project was aged for a few years before use, leading to the development of long strings of mycelium undergrowth trapped in each pile. With such a rich and healthy pile to harvest from I am hopeful that the nursery plants planted in this earth will thrive. The location specifically of the restoration site is actually near the Northshore cabin where I currently reside, and I am excited to see the desolate patch of earth damaged by OHV use near the campground become rich in healthy native species again.

Overall, this month has been a blast and as I’ve continued working in this field it has become apparent that there is plenty of love and care put in place for the local plant communities in the San Bernardino National Forest. Everyone plays a part in the restoration and botany team in aiding in accomplishing our goals and it’s been lovely working with the diverse set of individuals found in different sectors in forestry. While the projects at times may be difficult or physically tiring the results are rewarding and I am excited to continue contributing my part in helping protect the habitats of the native flora found in this stunningly diverse forest.

Picture this… You are a simple ant, living your life in the Bitterroot mountains of western Montana. You have not a care in the world – except to help feed your hundreds of family members and to protect your queen. “Hm this looks like a cool place, possibly lots to eat!”, you exclaim as you stumble upon a wide open fen.

“What is this sugary looking delectable delight? I’ll just have a little taste, then I’ll go let the others know!” You trek the long distance over the Carex, Mimulus, Cinquefoil, and more.

“Wow look at all of this! I’m gonna feed my family forever!” Your little ant brain fills you with joy as you make your way to the new delicious plant. You climb up the stem, and although it’s a bit sticky, you don’t think much of it, very few things that are worth getting are easy to get – you rationalize to yourself. “What is this, what is going on??” As you step onto the leaf, you find yourself stuck in the glandular hairs. You can’t move. Your body starts to tingle, and you come to the realization that you are not leaving.

The English Sundew strikes again. Drosera anglica uses its long tentacles to trap another victim. At least – this is what I imagine happens with this carnivorous plant, although it’s likely much less dramatic than this. On one of our monitoring projects this month, we checked out a population of this English Sundew, and found that is was more than double the size that it was presumed to be a few years ago, and whether it has actually grown that much, or if it just wasn’t documented, we are unsure, but the population size was massive – possibly up to 10,000 individuals! I have seen very few carnivorous plants in person, and this was so amazing to see such a huge population of this sensitive species. This species is cool because it can actually be found in many places throughout the world from Alaska to Hawaii to Japan to Southern Europe at higher elevations. This plant also specifically grows with sphagnum moss, which is not very common in Montana, so this is an interesting find. Because this is a carnivorous plant, it does not photosynthesize, and relies almost solely on the nutrients obtained from insects that find themselves caught in their hairs. They also self fertilize, so they do not need to be pollinated, therefore saving maximum amount of food for their sustenance. Overall this plant is really amazing, and it never ceases to amaze me that nature always finds a way to survive!

https://www.fs.usda.gov/wildflowers/plant-of-the-week/drosera_anglica.shtml

This past month has truly been a rollercoaster of emotions. The job itself is incredibly rewarding and as the time goes on I become more confident in my abilities here. Of course there have been plenty of downs to the position but as we further into the season it is much easier to mitigate them. 

We have had some difficult work this past month which included the removal of some of the most annoying invasives to exist including himalayan blackberry and slender false brome. One you have to dig into the roots to completely treat the issue while the other you get to crawl on your hands and knees hand picking along a river bed for hours. The grueling heat certainly didn’t help. Although the conditions were less than pleasant, the work was redeeming because of the basic concept of removing pesky invasives for the natives to flourish. If there is one thing that I can take away from this job it’s that one can take joy just from the moral output of the activity. Even if the task itself is incredibly arduous you can at least remember the fact that the work you’re doing has some sort of purpose. 

Seed collection this past month has fastly ramped up as well as the heat. The work only seems like it will become more involved and busy which is quite exciting. Of course some seed collection species are more interesting to collect than others. For example, when collecting the columbine (Aquilegia formosa) it is really fun to watch all of the tiny seeds drop out of the flower head into the bag sort of wondering how many will be in the batch. On the other hand there are collection species like big deervetch (Hosackia crassifolia) pods are picked off like apples and transferred to a big bag. While this collection is pretty efficient it can get tedious quickly. Then there are species that are just an absolute pain to collect like farewell to spring (Clarkia amoena). My distaste for this collection solely comes down to how difficult it is to spot these guys. The seed collection itself isn’t actually terrible, similar to that of a pea, however it is the identification and monitoring that can cause strife. These little pests are always hiding in the crags and are incredibly low to the ground blending in with just about every other basal flower or stem. Still it can be nice when you find a big stand of them in a rather unassuming place. 

Time is going by fast now and with only a couple months left in the internship I’m still hoping to expand my knowledge within the plant world. It’s been an incredible experience so far not just in knowledge but also community and like-mindedness. The work starts to feel like a widely connected network of people all working towards the same goal. You learn and you just keep learning. The people that you meet endow unto you the knowledge unknown prior while you are able to do the same to them. It’s hard to think of a more broad learning environment than a national forest and if anything I can simply just be grateful for that.