Daily Archives: 17 September, 2024

The Hunt for ERUM

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There’s much to talk about here at the Rocky Mountain Research Station in Boise, ID! In the short two and a half months since I’ve began this position my partner and I have been darting all over the Great Basin involved in some cool research. Most of our time these days is dedicated to searching for a particular plant species, but we have also gotten involved in some smaller projects that needed extra hands.

Though first, I suppose I’d like to talk more about the Great Basin itself. Despite growing up in Colorado, and seeing parts of the greater Great Basin ecosystem, the basin isn’t something I have thought of very much. In fact, it took several hours of unbroken driving throughout this region to really appreciate its magnificent vastness, like a rolling sea of scrubland mottled with pinyon-juniper woodland in-between stark mountain ranges. Much like the sea, the magnitude of the apparently desolate land is intimidating, yet amazing.

A view from the top of Yellow Peak in the Sheldon National Antelope Refuge in Nevada.

The Great Basin is defined primarily by the fact that the rivers flowing through this region do not drain into any major ocean or worldwide system. The water that enters the Great Basin, stays in the Great Basin (and now I know where Vegas ripped their slogan from!). This region is dominated by scrubland and pinion-juniper, but is home to a wonderful suite of forbs, one of which has been our primary focus for the past month, ERUM. ERUM stands for Eriogonum umbellatum, or sulphur buckwheat, a perennial from the family Polygonaceae. My field partner and I spend most of our time traveling to locations with presence records of this species, and collecting leaf tissue, herbarium vouchers, and seed from them when available.

Eriogonum umbellatum.

These materials are raw inputs into a research pipeline. Genetic material and phenological information are used to characterize varieties of this species while seeds from various climates are grown in several so-called “common gardens” across the Great Basin. All of this information gets united in an effort to identify “seed zones” for ERUM and its many varieties. These zones are areas throughout the Great Basin associated with particular environments and climatic conditions which result specialized in adaptations in ERUM. For instance, a sample of ERUM seed collected in a high-altitude forest meadow zone would likely not grow well in a low-elevation scrubland zone, and vice versa. So by identifying these seed zones, and characterizing the seed collections by said zones, restoration projects can use this information to select ERUM seed suited for the proper climate and environment. Developing large quantities of native seed is an extremely expensive process, and much seed can go to waste if the environment isn’t suitable. My mentor, Jessica, mentioned to us that after all the labor, permits, equipment, and resources, a bag of seed can be worth more than its weight in gold!

Hunting for ERUM feels like one great scavenger hunt, and it’s always a bit of a rush to stumble upon some. My time so far in this position has been pleasant. I feel very fortunate to travel to so many breathtaking places I likely never would have gone to otherwise. The great outdoors sure has a way of making one feel whole…

As we transition from traveling around the Great Basin collecting seed to setting up common gardens, I hope learn whether development of a reference genome is in the works, what sort of genes are being used as markers to identify varieties, as well as some general curiosities about the potential link between plant breeding, agronomy, and restoration.

Stanley Lake, ID
Jackson, WY

Life on the Road

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This summer has been filled with all sorts of fun out here in Boise, ID. Coming into this job I had no idea how much I would be learning and how much fun this would be! My field partner and I have been collecting seed and plant material from two main species, Eriogonum umbellatum and Lomatium dissectum. We have been as far north as Craig Mountain Wildlife Management Area (south of Lewiston), ID and as far south as Cedar City, UT. At times the traveling can be overwhelming and tiresome but I enjoy getting paid to work places people vacation. For example, this past week we were able to work near Jackson Hole, WY, one of my favorite places to go! Being from Idaho I love exploring my state more and exploring new states. Nevada has been so beautiful and desolate simultaneously, and it has been one of my new favorites to explore.

As a wildlife biology major, I was excited to start a job working with plants and learn more about habitats and ecosystems. This job has allowed me to explore many aspects of both and I have really enjoyed challenging myself to make connections in habitats while looking for our target species.

Some fun moments so far this summer were almost getting bit by a rattlesnake, having a grouse attack me, seeing lots of wildlife, watching long-eared owls feed above my head, finding bats tucked in a rock crack, and of course all the beautiful scenery.

Work will start to change as we start traveling less for seed collection and more for common garden work and I am excited to update how that goes in the coming months! Enjoy these photos in the meantime.

Lomatium dissectum!
Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem
Me near Custer, ID
Eriogonum umbellatum growing in a cool place
Pretty Idaho mountains

Prairie Bogs

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To start off my July I traveled to Wisconsin to spend time in the boreal forests of the north with my family. We hiked at the Porcupine Mountains which are not even mountains, but us Midwesterners are used to land flatter than a soda that’s been left open for a week. While there I just about rounded out my observations of the 6 native Midwest honeysuckles; seeing Red Honey Suckle, Lonicera Dioica, growing near the shore of Lake Superior. Only Lonicera oblongifolia has evaded my searching for the relatives of the nauseatingly monotonous Eurasian honeysuckles. An interesting aspect of the honeysuckles is the natives are edible or close to edible while the invasive are disgustingly bitter.

On my way home I visited the biggest bog I have ever seen. I was delighted at the sight of tamaracks, heaths, sedges, and moss as far as I could see, but dismayed by the little lily of valley taking hold in every square foot of the bog. I felt a pain up my back as I remembered having spent days hunched over hand painting herbicide onto this invader. It had invaded a large portion of the highest quality remnant prairie in the county I live in. Having been planted in the cemetery prairie to pay respects to a deceased loved ones, the lily has lead to the deaths of numerous rare native plants.

Coming back from Wisconsin to Illinois I was missing the cushion of the canopy and colder temperatures. Though I was pleasantly relieved when the same smell of pine crept across the prairie. All the species of Silphium, Compass Plant and Prairie had started to peak in bloom. The blazing sun on the prairie burns off the acridity of the landfill in the morning and volatilizes the terpenes in the plants. The most interesting smell I have encountered was the smell of the tussock sedges. It has a unique pleasant smell that is hard for me to put into words and was disappointing to collect very little seed for these important plants.

Seasons of Change

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Having just written our mid-season report, I find myself reflecting upon how the season has gone so far, and day-dreaming about what still lies ahead of us. I can hardly believe that summer is almost over. This summer has flown by for me- a testament to how wonderful this job has been. One of my favorite things about this position has to be seeing how the forest changes with each new season. I feel like a quiet observer, a fly on the wall, watching as the forest delicately lays down her colored coat each week, only to put on a new one.

Viewing these changes through my eyes, as a budding botanist, has been especially spectacular for me. In spring, the first yellow blooms of arrowleaf balsamroot break through the thawed ground, while lupines, a personal favorite of mine, add a touch of lavender among the new greenery. As the days warm, and summer progresses, wild geraniums and scarlet gilia bring subtle pinks and reds, their flowers attracting pollinators that flit between them.

Now that it is late summer, mountain mahogany seeds have begun to show, their fine, feathered strands catching the light before drifting off with the wind. Penstemon, with its deep blue and purple flowers, stands tall in open spaces. The seedheads of annual grasses, long since passed, turn gold in the sun.

I find myself waiting on the edge of my seat to see what the forest does as fall approaches. I can only guess that the colors of her coat will turn deeper, and richer as the aspens turn gold, and the reds of bigtooth maples and burr oaks spill across the hills. I am sure that fireweed, one of the last to bloom, will add a final burst of magenta before the first snowflakes settle and the forest shifts into the quiet of winter

Winter. Of all the seasons, it’s the most difficult for me to picture. Not because it isn’t beautiful, it might be the most breathtaking season of all. But because I know that once the forest puts on her white coat, contrasted only by the dark green of the conifers, that I will hardly be there to see it. Of course I know that after my time as a CLM intern is over I will still be able to go into the forest. But it won’t be like it is now, I can’t go everyday. Surely, I won’t be around to notice the subtle changes as early winter progresses into late winter, and as late winter thaws into spring. The forest will be quieter then, and very few will be around to see her.

Until then, I plan to enjoy my time with the forest, however fleeting it may be. She continues to change everyday, and with each change brings new plants to be discovered, and new seeds to be harvested.