We were off to a ~great~ start this month when we had a blowout driving down a mountain road! My fellow MCC intern and I found ourselves in a bit of a sticky situation when we were driving down a long Forest Service road and caught a flat tire. We luckily had one bar of service to look up how to get the tire off the back, but once we did, we were golden. It was definitely nerve racking doing this all on a hill, but the road continued at this incline for miles, so it was not feasible to keep driving to a flat location – less we want to damage the car. Either way, we fixed it and successfully changed our first tire! Peep the photo below – our Ram named “Gloria” – she has gotten us THROUGH IT this summer. Long Live Gloria!
Other than the tire debacle, this month has been quite calm. Mostly seed collection – with might I say some of the best views of the valley thus far. It’s kind of amazing to think about how much of the bitterroot I’ve explored given that I’ve only been here for 4 months. I’ve surveyed miles and miles of land, driven extensively throughout the mountains, and seen acres and acres of forest. I feel very connected to the land after working on it so intensely. I don’t know where I’ll end up next, but I doubt I’ll have lunch views quite like I do now. (Sometimes I’ll just stop for a minute to admire the landscape, please don’t fire me…)
It’s also been an amazing thing to see all of the wildlife. From Elk to Big Horn Sheep, we have seen so many amazing animals that we definitely don’t have back east. I have certainly become more observant when driving and hiking, and have found so many cool things in the forest. I think at first I was just so focused on the surveying because I wasn’t used to it. I had to sit and figure out so many plants because I wasn’t too sure what I was looking at yet. Now that I am pretty confident in my plant skills, I can be more observant to my surroundings. It’s a bit sad that just as I am more confident in my skills, the season is coming to an end. I of course still have a month here, but it’s sad to see my fellow seasonals leaving, the colors changing, and leaves falling. I will say I miss Northeastern fall (there is nothing quite like the Adirondacks changing colors in peak season), but the golden hues are ~almost~ as homey. I’m a bit nervous for the snow to begin in the valley, although it already has in the higher altitudes, but I am so excited to see how pretty it looks here with a fresh blanket of snow.
My final month in the Tongass went by as quickly as the previous three. It was a summer full of adventures, seed collecting, hiking, camping, swimming, and wildlife viewing. The Tongass is truly a magical place. The coastal temperate rainforest is such a unique ecosystem. It is so productive and filled with megafauna and old-growth stands, that make you feel like you were transported into Jurassic Park. Ketchikan seems to always be entrapped by thick clouds and a mist that makes the mountain’s features more mysterious. However, despite its reputation as one of the rainiest US towns, we had a beautiful summer filled with many consecutive sunny days. I began to long for the clouds and rain as plants and creeks started to dry up. After a few weeks in August, Ketchikan returned to its normal cloud coverage that I’ve grown to love.
We finished the season with collections from 20 different species. Aquilegia formosa (wild columbine), Aruncus dioicus (goatsbeard), Carex aquatilis (water sedge), Carex echinata (star sedge), Coptis aspleniifolia (fern-leaf goldthread), Chamerion angustifolium (fireweed), Gualtheria shallon (salal), Heracleum maximum (cow parsnip), Oplopanax horridus (devil’s club), Ribes bracteosum (stink currant), Rubus spectabilis (salmonberry), Sanguisorba officinalis (great burnet), Scirpus microcarpus (panicled bulrush), Spiraea splendens (rose meadowsweet), Tiarella trifoliata (three-leaf foamflower), Vaccinium ovalifolium (blueberry), and Vaccinium parviflorum (red huckleberry). In total we collected 1,577,772 seeds, weighing 17 lbs.
It was a very diverse group of species, that all have high value for restoration projects. For example, Cow Parsnip & Fireweed provide food and shelter to animals and pollinators. Plus, they are great for roadside disturbed areas and shade out the biggest nuisance in the Tongass: reed canary grass. We collected lots of fruit bearing shrubs that are great for wildlife and help stabilize the soil. The rest of the species were collected to help revive the stream banks after stream restorations.
Apart from all the seed collecting, we collaborated with other resource specialists on timber, watershed restoration, archeology, and recreation projects. I got to dip my toe into the other disciplines and expand my general knowledge. This experience I had out here was everything I wanted and more. I learned a ton about botany, coastal rainforests, restoration, and working for a government agency. This internship is definitely going to be instrumental in continuing a career stewarding our natural world.
I leave Alaska with a bittersweet kind of feeling. I am very grateful for this opportunity and so glad I accepted the offer to come almost 3,500+ miles from home to an area that I had no prior experience with. The Tongass National Forest holds a special place in my heart, and I look forward to making my way back here one of these days.
It was a dark and blustery night. Vigilante crime fighter; The JackPott and her sidekick Stone Throw sit perched atop a lone tree amongst the vast plain of prairie grasses. A breeze speeds across the landscape, birthing rippling shadows in waves of grain.
“Do you smell that?” JackPott inquires, inhaling a swath of the sweet scented air.
Stone Throws gaze unfocuses from the murky crystal which had captured her attention, miles away from the tree she currently occupies. *Sniff sniff*. “Crime….”
“Precisely!” With the speed of a pronghorn, the dynamic duo launches from their roost, landing in the front seats of their super-charged hover truck: The Grassmobile. The roof closes overhead as a dim green glow floods the cabin. “Stone Throw, time to turn it to 11!”
“On it boss!” Stone Throw swiftly inserts a cd into the stereo and cranks the volume knob as far as it goes, where a piece of tape labeled “11” has been placed over the 10 setting. YMCA by the Minions nearly fries the speakers.
“Lets ride!” And with the press of a button, The Grassmobile zips away with the unfathomable speed of a shooting star.
After a few minutes of zoomin, a shadow emerges and smashes into the winshield. The truck screeches to a stop, launching the figure forward. Our heroes leap out of the vehicle with the grace of two toads. The shadow raises from the brush, illuminated by the headlights. Large brown wings, red glowing eyes, and bushy antennae morph into clarity as the duo approaches. “Mothman!” They shout in unison.
“Yeeeees it is I, THE MOTHMAN,” he shouts in a cheesy 50s mobster accent, shaking a fist to the sky. “I have plotted and traveled for months to achieve my goal, and you two goons won’t stop me now, see!” With a powerful flap of his wings he zips into the air.
“He’s escaping! Get him!” Stone Throw summons a swarm of rocks from the surrounding landscape, preparing to launch the mineral mass at the fleeing criminal. Just as she’s about to launch her attack, however, The Mothman diverges from his trajectory, and makes a beeline, a mothline if you will, straight towards the still beaming headlights of The Grassmobile, bonking his head and knocking him cold.
When he awakens he’s tied up and unable to move. “There’s no escaping this time evil-doer! What have you been scheming?”
“Wahahahahah! Its too late fools! My plan is complete! The bugs have been released! Sweet Clover shall be no more!”
“Wait… you don’t mean to tell me your plan was to release bugs to eradicate sweetclover?”
“Yes… YES! Its the perfect plan! I’ve smuggled the grumbo bug which heavily preys on sweetclover into North America in order to eradicate one of the most prolific invasives to ever plague this landscape!”
“Oh, well I mean I guess that’s technically illegal but, uhh, well, does the gurmbo eat anything other than sweetclover?”
“Just Alfalfa.”
The two crime fighters look at each other and shrug. They untie Mothman and he flies off into the night.
Moral of the story: I really don’t like sweetclover.
Another month of seed collecting commenced with us taking the easy way out. Wonderfully, Midewin has their own seed beds which are populated by many desirable species that have the express purpose of being harvested for their seed. There is no searching and scavenging necessary, we can just go up to a plot and take them. Beautiful Bouteloua curtipendula was taken as well as Ceanothus americanus, commonly known as New Jersey Tea. We didn’t even have to follow the vaunted 20 percent rule because these are seed beds, we just eviscerated the whole population that was ready to be collected, but we’ll be back for them, don’t you worry.
Bouteloua curtipendulaCeanothus americanus
This month the team took a trip to the great state of Minnesota for the Grassland Restoration Network Annual Conference Extravaganza. All the heavy hitters of the prairie showed up as there was a star studded line up of scientists. We went to many sites that Minnesota Department of Natural Resources manages. Summer sites looked quite nice with a good mix of valuable prairie forbes and characteristic prairie grasses. But other sites they took us too were more of a mess and the discussion people had around these sites was eye opening to the management process of grassland restorations as well as just the scientific method in action. As the name of the group suggests, we did some networking and met some really cool people, such as the gals at Cook County Forest Preserve. Instead of a hotel, which is quite expensive, we decided to camp at a local state park which was fun at night with the beautiful night sky above us but when sleeping the bugs came out to play which was bugging me. But it was an overall wonderful experience to be a part of and I hope to be at the next one!
There were lots of stars but you had to be there, phones aren’t great at capturing their majesty
By common garter capturing I don’t mean actually abducting the snake, of course not! I mean capturing beautiful moments with the snake like this. This batch of snake surveys produced more snakes than any other. One snake board had three (!) snakes under it which was quite exciting. The snakes also got excited as multiple times they defecated on me, but that is all part of the snake game. They are absolutely beautiful creatures that I am honored to hold anytime I get the opportunity.
Me kissing a snake
With Plants of Concern, a program under the auspices of the Chicago Botanic Garden, we did some Panax quinquefolius monitoring. A commercially important species, we secretly delved into the forest to find the American Ginseng and count how many existed. More than expected were seen which was quite nice and I also found another animal bone for my collection.
The destination: Curlew National Grassland. The mission: Find a Monarch. The crew: your favorite CLM interns (plus a few guests).
Alex with the tallest sagebrush in the world (maybe?)
As soon as we parked our trucks in the Twin Springs campground on the Curlew, I knew we were in for a good day. Alex and I were joined by our mentor, Rose, one of the botany interns, Carson, and an archaeologist, Ashley. We were waiting to meet up with the rest of our group for the day (a collection of NRCS, rec, and range people) when we noticed an absolutely massive population of Ribes aureum. If you’re unfamiliar, Ribes aureum (or Golden Currant) is a delicious native shrub, and it was out in full force. We quickly decided that it was time for our first opportunistic collection, and within moments everyone had a paper bag in hand and was carefully picking berries off of every plant in sight. The abundance was awe inspiring after months of waiting for a seed collection to complete, and the morning snack was much appreciated. About a half hour into our collection, Derek from the NRCS Plant Materials Center in Aberdeen, ID, showed us how the pros do it- racket in hand with a custom built canvas collection bag. Within mere seconds, he had out collected all of us combined.
you would not believe how good these tasted (or how many I managed to pick in a day)
While the Ribes collection was a great start to the day, it was not our objective for the day. We were all assembled to participate in the Monarch Bioblitz, a community effort across North America to collect data on Monarch populations. We were heading to a few known sites of Asclepias speciosa in order to look for monarch eggs, caterpillars, and adults.
Within minutes at our first site, we had spotted an adult monarch. An extensive survey of the milkweed in the area revealed many more of the beautiful iridescent eggs. Monarchs have a few distinct look alike species, but luckily none of the species that have visually similar eggs had a range that extended as far north as Idaho. Below are a few of the most common look alike species for Monarchs. While the Queen’s and Soldier butterflies have very similar eggs and larvae, the range does not extend to where we were surveying- that made life easier! The Viceroy adults are very similar in appearance to Monarchs, which can cause confusion, but if you look carefully you can see a distinct horizontal line on the Viceroy wings that is missing on Monarchs. Monarchs will also have a much slower flight pattern (flap-flap-gliiiide) while Viceroy has a much faster and more erratic flight pattern. These key differences are very important to note during surveys!
Monarch Life Cycle
The bright colors of monarch caterpillars and butterflies indicates to predators that they are not a great choice of meal… Because Monarch caterpillars exclusively feed on milkweed, they are full of a toxin called cardiac glycoside, which stops the sodium pumps in the bodies of predators that aren’t adapted to the chemical. Because of this defense, many species have evolved to mimic the bright patterns of the Monarch, despite not being toxic themselves!
Queen Life CycleSoldier Life CycleViceroy Life Cycle- Notice the similarities between the wing pattern on the Viceroy and the Monarch!
At our second site, we finally got to put our butterfly nets into action. For first time catchers, we quickly learned that capturing butterflies is a LOT harder than it sounds. After tromping through a creek and many pricker filled plants, Cheryl used her bug catching skills to capture our first adult male monarch and demonstrated her superior butterfly catching form. Although we didn’t plan on tagging the butterflies we surveyed that day, we did take the opportunity of this first male to learn how to properly place the tag.
he looks pretty, but this was one beat up old maleCheryl with her catch of the day
By the time we reached our third site, we had already surveyed around thirty monarchs. This site once again blessed us with a population of Ribes, which provided us a much needed snack. Although some of us (okay, maybe just me) got a little carried away with the berry foraging and forgot to look for butterflies, we did find two monarch caterpillars.
Caterpillars are classified into five different instars based on their development. The stages can be a matter of days apart and are determined by visual cues like banding or presence of spots. The instar stage was a hot debate every time a caterpillar was spotted, until we remembered the handy monarch guides that we had which described in detail several key differences between each stage. Go us for preparedness!
So- Mission accomplished! We had a very successful survey of various milkweed populations, and are expecting to see the monarchs flourishing when we go survey again in a few weeks. Because monarchs are an endangered species, understanding the health of our populations is of extreme importance across North America! p.s. if you made it this far, enjoy the demonstration on how not to catch a monarch 🙂
Who knew catching butterflies was a team sport?
If interested, there are a lot of great resources for monarch biology, habitat, and monitoring efforts at these sources:
Summer is transitioning into fall, and likewise, the prairie is in change as well. The flowering stalks of Compass Plants (Silphium Laciniatum) now limp low, fading into a haze of purple & yellow from Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardi) and budding Goldenrods (Solidago spp.).
These autumnal blooms are an important food source for native pollinators as they prepare their nests or migrate for the incoming winter. Even the pollen from grasses may be foraged during times of dearth, offering valuable protein to numerous beneficial insect species.
A Two-Spotted Longhorn Bee (Melissodes bimaculatus) stripping pollen from the anthers of a warm-season grass.
The field season, however, is still in full swing at Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie: Seed collection is ramping up as an entire summers-worth of seed nears harvest; and rare plant monitoring is still ongoing, including American Ginseng (Panax quinquefolius) and Goldenseal (Hydrastis canadensis) in the local woodlands.
It’s also the perfect time for spotting the bright red seed capsules of Hispid False Mallow (Malvastrum hispidum) with Plants of Concern, and the showy purple blooms of the Leafy Prairie Clover (Dalea foliosa) at Des Plaines State Fish & Wildlife Area.
As its seed ripens, Hispid False Mallow (Malvastrum hispidum) changes from green to red in color.
Botany workshops have also been underway, offering opportunities to learn the graminoids and fully-aquatic plants of Midewin. During one lesson, two seemingly-different species of rush were placed at our table. Yet despite their wildly distinct inflorescences, both were actually an example of Torrey’s Rush (Juncus torreyi).
One specimen, however, was inhabited by a gall-making psyllid, or “plant lice.” After laying its eggs, plant growth hormones are stimulated and a gall is formed, offering both food & protection to the developing nymphs hidden within.
The specimen on the left is a galled form of Torrey’s Rush (Juncus torreyi); the one on the right displays its typical inflorescence.
Although Milkweed (Asclepias spp.) seed is not yet ready to collect — as indicated by its swelling green seed pods — we keep ourselves entertained by watching the equally-swelling Monarch caterpillars chow hungrily at the plants’ leaves.
Soon these caterpillars will molt one last time to form a chrysalis, digesting and re-assembling itself until finally emerging as a butterfly — a transformation fit for the season of change.
The caterpillar of a Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus) in its fifth and final instar.
Dolomite prairies house unique plant communities, the bedrock here is at or just below the soil surface. Like a slab of concrete or an abandoned foundation, the exposed bedrock looks out of place in this natural landscape. These prairies are seasonally wet; in the spring, rain and snowmelt fill the area with shallow water, and by summer, it becomes bone dry. These plant communities have adapted not only to the seasonally wet conditions but also to the high magnesium content of the soil due to the weathering of the exposed rock.
Early May Late August
There are many rare plants that are restricted to the Dolomite prairies in Illinois, but one takes our time and attention like no other. Dalea foliosa, the leafy prairie clover, is a curious purple-flowered pea its flowers are arranged in dense spikes and it has the typical pinnately compound leaves. D. foliosa is federally endangered and is very much deserving of our time and attention.
Malvastrum hispidum (Critically Imperiled in Illinois)
According to NatureServe, there are approximately 8 occurrences in the state of Illinois. Habitat loss, fire suppression, and woody encroachment are still the driving factors of this species’ decline. Midewin is fortunate to have acquired 40 acres of dolomite prairie from a mitigation requirement of the neighboring ExxonMobil refinery. When monitoring and management began back in 2002, only 92 total plants were counted; today, we counted over 500. This population is far better now, but its isolation still poses a threat in terms of its genetic diversity.
We followed a very tedious monitoring protocol that involved counting vegetative and reproductive stems, aborted flowers, and stems browsed of each plant. We also collaborated with Fish and Wildlife to monitor two other populations on IDNR land. Midewin has worked hard to preserve this population, and it has paid off; however, this is never enough in a changing landscape. Threats of changing hydrology and freak accidents from the boarding railroad and refinery unfortunately remain a concern.
Dalea foliosa monitoring
Photo Dump
I though it would be fitting to conclude my August blog with a collection of photos taken while seed-collecting and from our visit to the Chicago Botanic Garden. I hope you enjoy
After the long drought the skies have sent rain down the night before and the morning is ready for the seed collecting day. The air hangs overhead like a mist, bringing a cool touch to your arm. You look overhead to the cloudless sky and sigh with anticipation as a gentle breeze hits the back of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine underneath your field clothes as you tuck your wool socks into your pants. Any attempt to stop the chiggers from finding your ankles is an attempt worth taking. You reach for your trusted wide brimmed hat, your ally in the war with the brutal sun, and slip on your long sleeved over-shirt. The gear is collected: a small pair of cutters, small white paper bags, a big leathery plastic bag, and water. Just enough to collect what is needed and no more. Working with mother nature instead of against her is our number one job today.
Looking over the prairie is different than the last time. The blooming purple of Monarda fistulosa has died down as she gets ready to go to seed and is instead muted by greens and reds. Still too early for the yellow sea to flood in yet we are in a holding period between seasons. The quiet month of August is upon us. But mother nature is still hard at work, you just have to know where to look to see her true beauty. She makes you work for it but these species are the most complex of all.
Secret Ridge Prairie with a tall compass plant (Silphium lacinatium).
Bouteloua curtipendula is finally ready to collect as its deep purple seeds have now tanned to a pale brown. Close up the seeds are no bigger than the broken graphite piece of an extremely sharp wooden pencil. Yet far away the are much bigger. Hanging loosely on the small stem of the grama they are the easiest to spot in an upland prairie habitat. Outcompeting any of the bigger grasses in its way. The most exciting experience besides saying its name, is collecting the seeds.
Bouteloua curtipendula at Secret Ridge Prairie.
My ”task” for this morning is to honor the ecosystem and take 20% of her Bouteloua seeds. This way it benefits us and still leaves enough to have another generation thrive. Luckily it is doing very well in this prairie. With one swift motion you place your hand on the stem below the seeds and pull upward until all of the seeds are in your hand. Pure satisfaction in one swoop.
You continue to walk through the prairie, now feeling the extend of the sun on your back as you pull another Bouteloua seedhead. Satisfaction. Making sure to step light around the wide Baptisa alba plant to more Bouteloua. Pull. Satisfaction. Spot some Amorpha canescens but its seeds arent wuite ready yet, so you make a mental note to come back in a week to collect that. Pull. Satisfaction. And you find a big clump of Bouteloua surrounded my smaller vegetation. Pull. Satisfaction. Pull. Pull. Pull. Satisfaction. You look down at the little plants around it, its light delicate whorled leaves around a tiny little stem. Bright white complex inflourescence among the top of some plants. You think you know what it is! But there is one more step you need to do to make sure. Plucking a single leaf from the stem you look closely at the leaf as a small bubble of white liquid starts to form on the end. Your guesses are correct, Whorled Milkweed has made its way to the prairie.
Asclepias verticillata is one of the smallest milkweeds at Midewin, but what it lacks in size it sure makes up for in numbers in a population! At some points its almost a field of milkweeds surrounded by other plants. The small stature can be overlooked by people looking for the more charismatic plants, but Asclepias can hold its own. It even goes up against monarch caterpillars and survived their munching to produce little seed pods. She is one tough cookie.
Asclepias verticillata at Exxon Prairie with inflorescence in bloom.
The sun is beating down now as the time nears to noon on the prairie. Your stomach starts to call out in hunger and you have drank almost all of your water source in your bottles. You check your bags for your haul, a lot of Bouteloua was taken, but while looking around there is so much more that is left. Success in your collection. We survey our hauls at the truck, each had been successful in their species seed collection. You look back at the prairie, the whispers of bugs in the background as the clear blue sky screams hello. Its peaceful being around so much life and knowing that you are not destroying. Its enchanting knowing you are helping restore more places to look just like this. It is inspiring seeing so many people around you care so much about this planet. It is the satisfying pull of the job.
Phacelia hastata sits there taunting me. One side still has its purple, curly inflorescence while the other side is dull brown – dried and perfect for collecting. A few more sit just 5 ft away from the first, but all are at least 10 feet above me. Phacelia loves to grow in hard to reach places where there is little competition and plenty of access to the sun. Perfect for the plant, but difficult for the seed collector.
I grab everything I need from the truck – radio, paper bag, a glove – and glance back at the obstacle before me. This specific site was a steep, rocky slope next to the road made up of sheet rock. Slowly and carefully I start climbing the slope. Every two steps I took counted as one as the rocks shifted beneath my weight, but at least I was making progress. I sat low to the ground with my knees on the slope whenever I could in order to keep my center of gravity close to the slope itself and used my hands as additional support as I climbed. I made it to each plant and lightly ran my gloved hand along the dried fruits – allowing some to easily fall into my palm before throwing them into the paper bag. I had to wear a glove for this endeavor because the common name “Scorpionweed” for Phacelia hastata is very fitting as the fruits have hairs that are irritating and prickly to touch. I adjust my footholds and continue to make my way across the slope to the many Phacelia plants growing in this difficult terrain. I volunteered to go up to this height – my partners for today, Madeline and Stella, choosing to collect from the plants lower to the road.
I found this collection to be a fun challenge and enjoyed the accomplished feeling as I successfully transversed the steep slope. Some areas were easier than others. At some points I could stand up and carefully walk diagonally up the slope, while at other points I would slide down a few feet before having to find another path to go on.
By the end of the collection time, I had collected half a paper bag of phacelia fruits/seeds and gotten covered in dust from the slope but felt very accomplished by overcoming the challenge. I was happy to have been able to get the genetics from the higher individuals to include into our collection and happy that I could climb this slope at all – one of the other sites which we wanted to collect Phacelia was even more difficult to climb and we had stayed to just the lower individuals because of this.
Phacelia hastata August 1, 2023My partner, Tori, collecting from Phacelia hastata population in the CastlesPhacelia hastata August 7, 2023
The Grasshopper
*Plop*. A grasshopper hops onto the windshield of our truck. We stop, but it seems as though it has no intention to leave. Slowly, we continue on our path. The grasshopper faces the same way that we are headed, his yellow body braced against the movement of the truck. We make our way past a small meadow and to another forested area when the grasshopper finally hops off of its own volition. I could not help but wonder if it knew what it was doing. If it was just using us as a way to create its own adventure and explore a new area just as we are using this opportunity to explore as well. I can only wish the grasshopper well on its future travels.
A grasshopper in the Castle Mountains of the Helena-Lewis and Clark NF
Battle of Geum
For a few weeks now, my mentor, Victor, and I have been debating the identification of a specific Geum plant growing outside the office door. In the beginning of the summer, Victor told me that this one was ‘Geum macrophyllum’ which is one of the species on our collection list. At the time I did not question it, but this past month we ran into a couple other Geums that look very similar – especially now that they are fruiting instead of flowering. The three are Geum macrophyllum, Geum aleppicum, and Geum rivale. Rivale flowers are pink and nodding while the flowers of the other two are yellow – allowing easy distinction between the three when there are flowers present but all of their fruits are ‘spiny with achene beaks’ as stated in our plant key and look very similar at a glance. All three of these plants also grow in very similar habitats: moist sites next to rivers. Luckily, even with just fruits the rivale flowers still keep their purple sepals which is the key difference between rivale and the other two and also has the longest achene beaks.
The next step, to separate out macrophyllum, is dependent on whether the lower portion of the style is minutely glandular or not at all. My partner, Tori, and I have had quite a lot of trouble deciding whether something is glandular or not throughout this summer – even with the use of a hand lens – and so while we do check for this step, we also looked to see if there were some other differences between the two. One of the Botany techs on the Helena side of the forest, Nate, responded to this question by saying that the macrophyllum receptacle is hairless while the other two possibilities in the key are not. Those other two being Geum aleppicum and canadense. Canadense is automatically crossed out as an option due to it having white flowers and no known cases of it living in the south west side of Montana – where we are collecting at.
I took Nate’s shortcut and ran with it – informing Victor that our plant outside the door was indeed aleppicum rather than macrophyllum. Victor did not believe me at first – especially since Nate’s difference was not in the key that we used. He looked up pictures and tried to compare the species that way. In the past few weeks, he changed his mind on what species that plant was about 5 times before finally deciding today that I was right. The mystery Geum growing by the office door was indeed Geum allepicum – now added to our collection list along with Geum rivale.
Hard to see, but a population of Geum rivale in the Little Belt Mountains.
Day in and day out as we travel along the back roads of the San Bernardino National Forest the remnants of human festivities could often be found underneath the lush green pines, unauthorized campfire rings. The large dark stones and black ash contrasting starkly against the lushness of the forest announcing their presence and staining the earth black with soot. Oftentimes increasing in frequency during holidays such as 4th of July, Memorial Day, or Labor Day the sighting of these rings has brought continual frustration on our part as the summer heat continues to beat down and dry the flora surrounding it. While our main goal is seed collecting and target species monitoring another responsibility of ours is to destroy the rings to prevent further use, in hopes of preventing a fire from sweeping through the area. The process of destruction relatively simple, in that we disperse the rocks throughout the area and break apart the ash in an attempt to wipe its presence away for good. While the potential for fire spread itself is our main concern these rings oftentimes have large shards of melted or fractured glass in them that can be hazardous to others as well. Even after a site had been cleared of its rings the remnants of their presence still could be seen throughout like messy smudges drawn into the earth.
Above is a large fire ring we found and destroyed at Lytle Creek, one of many found in the area that day.
One site in particular known as Lytle Creek was filled with these unauthorized rings and in one day, we destroyed a total of 20 after a busy holiday weekend. Concerning as is, we discovered also that one of the rings was still hot to the touch even days after its previous owners had abandoned it. The last fire that ran through Lytle Creek was only a few years ago and was started by an unauthorized campfire ring such as this. While the continual finding of these rings proves frustrating it is rather beautiful to see how the forest regrows after a fire. Places that were once burn scarred or barren now begin to blossom again with native flora. During our drives through the various habitats in the forest we’ve stumbled upon a handful of burn scarred areas that are slowly recovering with time and restoration efforts. While it can be disheartening to see these beautiful habitats be abused or destroyed it is incredibly rewarding in playing a part in aiding in their recovery. During my time working in Big Bear with the restoration team I’ve taken part in two Green Thumb events on the forest that utilize both staff and volunteers to aid in restoring damaged habitats such as these. With the help of volunteers, we’ve been able to replant 100s of native species into areas that were once bare plots of earth. This work could not be done without the help of the volunteers that work in these events and we are incredibly grateful for the time they spend in helping us restore and preserve the forest for future generations to enjoy. Overall, it’s been a blast being a part of these restorations’ projects on the forest and I look forward to the month of September where we will be having a large volunteer event taking place that will involve the planting of around 400 plants!! Until then, I hope everyone is having a lovely time working out of their different locations and I look forward to reading your blogs!
A burn scarred area in Lytle Creek that is slowly recovering from a past fire caused by unauthorized campfire rings with Yerba Santa sprouting back up again.Joshua Trees sprouting back up again from a past fire that occurred in Cactus Flats.