Hello, everyone! I’m checking in for the first time from Carson City, Nevada. I moved here at the end of June to become a botany intern with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) only 2 months ago, but I already feel at home. This is a pleasant surprise, considering how different Carson City is than the town I just moved from. It’s amazing how drastically the landscape shifts during the 4-hour drive east from home to here. Ferns and redwoods fade to sagebrush and juniper; ocean breezes dry out and are tinged by smoke. Among the differences, though, there is a familiarity between plants of the desert and of dunes at the coast. A reprieve from the newness of the Great Basin that lies east of the Sierras.
A species of Astragalus that looks a little like the plant we searched for in the Pine Nut Mountains.
In any case, I like it here. The town, which is the capital of Nevada, is calm and simple. The sagebrush steppe is parched by sun and heat, but is a perfect array of pastels. The mountains stacked to our west (the eastern edge of the Sierra Nevada’s) are mostly brown, but the pines lining their peaks promise an escape from the sun. We often work in shrubby sage and rabbit brush communities, but sometimes diverge toward these cooler mountains west of the BLM office. I love sagebrush, and the bright red cicadas that shoot out of its branches when you approach too quickly, but I really enjoy our time working in pine-covered mountains.
I first experienced these mountains in my second week of work. We drove to the Pine Nut Mountains and surveyed about 400 acres for a tiny, yet vibrant, rare plant in the genus Astragalus. Ecologists were worried about the fate of this community. They feared that the mixed sage, pine nut tree, and juniper habitat was being dominated by juniper and pine nut trees. Long ago, mild fires frequently passed through and killed tree seedlings growing among sagebrush. The larger juniper and pine nut trees tolerated these small fires well, and a balance between sage and tree-dominated communities was preserved.
Two wild horses silhouetted in the Pine Nut Mountains
But more recently, humans have taken steps to prevent even the smallest burn. Without the thinning capability of fire, trees grow among the sagebrush and gradually replace sage communities. To prevent this encroachment without fire, ecologists hoped to use a large machine to “masticate” the offending trees and give the sagebrush communities a chance to thrive. First, they wanted our help to make sure their plan would not hurt any rare plants that may have been living among the offending trees.
We spent two days combing the hilly pine nut tree understory for the small plant. We found none. During our first night of camping, though, I found a different species iconic to the area. I took a short walk down the dusty two-track we drove in on to enjoy the evening breeze. The dust seeped into my tennis shoes and between my toes as I scuffed along. Turning a corner, I heard a snort. Squinting ahead through the sunset, I saw a fair-haired stallion standing, offended, between me and his chestnut mare only 20 meters away. I dropped to a crouch behind a sagebrush, afraid to startle them more and make him charge, and listened. To be honest, I should have left as soon as I saw them. Wild horses are dangerous, and deserve to be left alone. I knew, and ignored, this fact. I stayed in a crouch, separated the sage with my fingertips, and watched until the stallion reluctantly returned to grazing. He still stood between me and his mare, still occasionally snorted, and still perked his ears in my direction.
Collecting Elymus elymoides, squirrel tail grass
As I crept away to have my own dinner, I considered the difference between this new state and my previous home. The wilderness here is an expanse of sage, pines, wild horses, and predators that wild horses have to be cautious of. It dwarfs the presence of occasional shooters, ATV riders, and BLM botany interns who pass through. I don’t know why I’m so surprised by its vastness; the BLM public lands cover over 60% of the state of Nevada.
A sedge (Carex sp.) collected near Indian Creek
Over the following few weeks, we collected seeds and searched for native plants in the far corners of this territory. I still haven’t become accustomed to the hugeness of BLM land. Though our efforts sometimes seem unfruitful (like not finding the rare Astragalus in the Pine Nut’s), I have been impressed by the BLM’s strength in protecting both the ecological and cultural resources of such a massive area. For example, officials recently stopped the proposed project in the Pine Nut’s. Not because we found Astragalus (which we didn’t) but because the pine nuts themselves are an important source of income for local folks. It feels meaningful to be a part of this group of dedicated people.
Thanks for reading. Until next time!
Mountain mahogany, Cercocarpus ledifolius, in the White Mountains