When I took on this internship, I knew that I would branch out into non-SOS duties during the course of my internship: wildlife monitoring, organizing the herbarium, etc. I didn’t, however, anticipate that I would be treasure-hunting. While it’s true that gold fever once struck these hills (along with coal, uranium, oil, and natural gas fever) what little precious metal here was picked away be prospectors long ago. Nevertheless, I’ve found that Wyoming still has many unique treasures hidden within its landscape.

The first precious gem we set out to find was a periwinkle-coloured penstemon, hiding up amongst the dunes of the Ferris Mountains. Penstemon haydenii, the Blowout penstemon, was re-discovered by my mentor in these dunes twenty years prior. This species only occurs in two places on Earth; here in southern Wyoming, and in the Sandhills of north-central Nebraska.

Penstemon haydenii in flower.

Dune ecosystems remind me of the limestone glades of my native Tennessee; they are confounding, entrancing patches of desert tucked into the prairie. Standing at the crest of a long line of majestic dunes, I no longer felt like I was in southern Wyoming, but in the Sahara or the Kalahari.

One of the many dunes flanking the Ferris Mountains of southern Wyoming.

Penstemon haydenii thrives at the edges of blowouts, great sand bowls that are carved out by the wind, creating the classic “dune” shape. Researchers at Wyoming Natural Diversity Database and University of Wyoming believe that P. haydenii is highly disturbance-dependent. The active dunes of the Ferris Mountains maintain the sparsely vegetated “blowouts” this species calls home. The constant shifting of the sand reduces competition, leaving a sparse community of specialized survivors: Redfieldia flexuosa, Psoralidium lanceolatum, Rumex venosus, and Penstemon haydenii. Through a unique combination of geology, climate, and physical forces, a one-of-a-kind assemblage of desert plants has come together.

Typical habitat of P. haydenii.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the Nebraska Sandhills. Management practices dating back to the Great Depression have put P. haydenii populations at a disadvantage. After the Dust Bowl, the Sandhills, along with every other plot of land in the Midwest, were planted out to anchor loose soil. This frenzy for erosion control is understandable, but it wasn’t always appropriate. The dunes were, effectively, put to sleep. As they lay dormant, more competitive species colonized the ecosystem, crowding out P. haydenii and other specialists. Despite the efforts of a local reintroduction program, populations are dwindling.

My mentor, who re-discovered the Wyoming populations of P. haydenii, inspecting a specimen.

Led by Bonnie Heidel of the Wyoming Natural Diversity Database, our team trekked the dunes in search of data for the biennial P. haydenii survey. Vegetative plants are difficult to spot, particularly in patches of R. flexuosa, the blowout grass. Identification hinges on careful attunement to the the plant’s blue-green foliage and slender leaves. Every sighting was sounded with whoops of excitement, particularly when the individual was flowering. But the best was yet to come.

It is quite rare to find P. haydenii seedlings, partly due to their small size (imagine spotting a green toothpick in the sand) and partly due to high predation of seeds. But, as luck would have it, on my first day of monitoring, we ran across a bona-fide nursery! A spray of tiny seedlings tumbled down the bowl, coming to a halt along another ridge of sand. We speculate that the cache of some luckless rodent was uncovered by the wind, giving the seeds another chance at germination. Seeing this trail of young plants gave us hope that this species, whose rarity alone has left it on the brink, will have enough resilience to handle any new factors our changing world throws at it.

Hope for the future!