Experiences and reflections of a Missouri entomologist
Hymenoptera
Ants, bees, sawflies, wasps. About 125,000 species worldwide. Biology is diverse: phytophagy, parasitism, predation, gall forming. Parthenogenesis is universal – diploid females and haploid males.
After missing the last three weeks, I was happy to rejoin the WGNSS botanists on their regular weekly outing this past Monday. This week’s destination—Salt Lick Point Land & Water Reserve in western Monroe Co., Illinois—features a mosaic of loess hill prairie and limestone glades amidst dry to dry-mesic upland forest atop limestone bluffs towering up to 400 feet above the Mississippi River valley below.
View from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
It has been an exceptionally dry August and September, so much that fall blooming plants are noticeably delayed and sparse in their blooms. Nevertheless, welcome rains just in the past few days have breathed some “fall life” into the woods and brought with them the pungent, earthy aromas that one expects to accompany a landscaping morphing from the dull greens of summer to the vibrant ambers, tawnies, and golds of fall.
View from the Salt Lick Trail at Salt Lick Point.
The group first explored the upland and blufftop habitats along the challenging terrain of the Salt Lick and Newman Trails, then returned through flat lowlands along the bluff bottoms via the Johnson Trail. Although still just beginning to bloom, a diverse palette of “fall asters” gave us an opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with the characters that distinguish these often “easy-to-identify-to-genus but difficult-to-identify-to-species” plants. The bulk of these fell into one of two groups—the true asters (genus Symphyotrichum) and the goldenrods (genus Solidago).
Salt Lick Trail at Salt Lick Point.
Symphyotrichum patens (late purple aster) was the first true aster that we noticed, a rather common species distinguished by its purple (of course) flowers with loose but not recurved phyllaries and leaves broadly clasping the stem. It wasn’t long before we had a chance to test our knowledge when we encountered the similar appearing Symphyotrichum anomalum (manyray aster), also with purple flowers but distinguished from S. patens by its distinctly recurved phyllaries and petiolate rather than clasping leaves. Eventually, we would encounter a third species of the genus—Symphyotrichum lateriflorum (calico aster), distinguished by its numerous small white flowers at the tips of numerous lateral branches rather than the terminus of the stem.
View from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
Goldenrods, on the other hand, were not only more diverse but also comprised some quite conservative species. The first of these was Solidago drummondii (Drummond’s goldenrod). This near-endemic species is restricted to eastern Missouri and adjacent parts of Illinois and Arkansas and grows almost exclusively on limestone or dolomite bluffs. However, we found it growing on limestone boulders placed at the trailhead next to the parking lot. Its wide, toothed leaves on short petioles (along with habitat) make this species easy to identify. Another quite conservative goldenrod was found as we entered the dry to dry-mesic forest further up the trail—Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod). Restricted to the Ozarks and adjacent areas, it is a showy species with relatively large flowers and spready phyllaries. In this and other respects, it greatly resembles the much more common Soldago petiolaris (downy goldenrod); however, it differs from that species by its narrower leaves that lack distinct teeth. A third species was seen as we approached one of the larger loess hilltop prairie remnants—Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod). Unlike the previous two species, this is one of the commonest and weediest species of goldenrod in the region. Relatively tall and with pyramidal inflorescences, this species often aggressively monopolizes roadsides and fallow fields. It greatly resembles another fairly common species—Solidago gigantea (late goldenrod), which we would later see during the return hike along the edge of the river valley. Leaf texture, however, differs between these two species—S. altissima has leaves with rough surfaces (caused by stiff, unidirectionally recurved hairs that cause the leaf to move only one direction when rubbed between the thumb and forefinger), while S. gigantea has smooth leaves (that move in any direction when rubbed).
The group not only spent its time with its eyes down, but also out—across the vast Mississippi River valley spread out below the several lookout points dotting the trails. Tawny fields of near-ready-to-harvest corn provided a beautiful backdrop against the resplendent red sumacs and brilliant orange maples lining the blufftops.
Members of the WGNSS Botany Group admire the view from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
View from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
As the group’s lone entomologist/botanist (“entomotanist”?), I also kept an eye out for insects and was richly rewarded. A tiny “thorn” on the stem of S. buckleyi proved to be Enchenopa latipes (wide-footed treehopper), and unfolding the “folded” leaves of Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud) revealed the culprits—zebra-striped caterpillars of Fascista cercerisella (redbud leaffolder moth).
Enchenopa latipes (wide-footed treehopper—family Membracidae) on stem of Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Fascista cercerisella (redbud leaffolder—family Gelechiidae) on Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud).
A spectacular earth boring beetle, Geotrupes splendidus, was seen lumbering clumsily along the trail in its endless quest for mammal dung to bury and lay an egg upon, while Bombus impatiens (common eastern bumble bee) worked the flowers of Eupatorium altissimum (tall boneset) and Eupatorium serotinum (late boneset).
Geotrupes splendidus (splendid earth-boring beetle—family Geotrupidae) on trail through dry-mesic loess woodland.
Bombus impatiens (common eastern bumblebee—family Apidae) on flower of Eupatorium altissimum (tall boneset).
A nearly mature Euchaetes egle (milkweed tussock moth) consumed the dwindling foliage of Cynanchum laeve (climbing milkweed), and Piezogaster calcarator (leaf-footed bugs) congregated on the inflorescences of Verbesina alternifolia (yellow ironweed).
Piezogaster calcarator (leaf-footed bug—family Coreidae) on flower of Verbesina alternifolia (yellow ironweed).
Nowhere, however, was insect activity more abundant than on the goldenrods, particularly the abundant stands of S. altissima in the uplands and S. gigantea below. Overwhelming numbers of Chauliognathus pennsylvanicus (goldenrod soldier beetles) and Lycomorpha pholus (black and yellow lichen moths) were accompanied by a cacophony of bees, wasps, and flies—a situation tailor made for Phymata sp. (jagged ambush bugs) to lay in wait while Epargyreus clarus (silver-spotted skipper) flew erratically overhead.
Phymata sp. (jagged ambush bug—family Reduviidae) mating pair on flower of Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod).
Epargyreus clarus (silver-spotted skipper—family Hesperiidae) perched on Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod).
Even in the deeply shaded mesic forest, Cyllopsis gemma (eastern gemmed satyrs) flitted deftly through the undergrowth.
Cyllopsis gemma (eastern gemmed satyr—family Nymphalidae) in mesic riparian forest.
The most unusual find, however, was a bizarre, green, jewel of a caterpillar found crawling on the forest floor—Isa textula (crowned slug moth or skiff moth), fringed with lacy projections that make it look more like a sea slug than an insect!
Isa textula (crowned slug moth, skiff moth—family Limacodidae) in leaf litter of mesic riparian forest.
Of course, a Monday WGNSS Botany Group outing isn’t truly consummated until it has enjoyed lunch at a local establishment—the choice this time being Tequila Mexican Restaurant in nearby Waterloo (best fish tacos I’ve ever had!).
This—the 18th “Collecting Trip iReport”—covers the second of two insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring from June 4–13, during which I placed “bottle traps” and “jug traps” at several locations, and this one from September 3–14 to retrieve the traps and take advantage of any late-season collecting opportunities. I was fortunate on this trip to have longtime collecting buddy and melittologist Mike Arduser joining me, during which we visited the same 15 localities that I visited on my precious trip back in June (one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada) plus two additional localities (one each in northwestern Oklahoma and northeastern New Mexico).
I’m on my way out west with fellow collector Mike—today being only a travel day but with a quick stop in Texas Co., Oklahoma to retrieve bottle traps set back in June and then a night of camping at Black Mesa State Park before continuing the drive west tomorrow. After 7 hours, we needed to stretch our legs and stopped at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge’s Sandpiper Trail—a spot we both have visited several times and know well. Recent rains had the alkaline flats filled with more water than I’ve seen during any previous visit, …
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge, Alfalfa Co., Oklahoma.
… and only a few Ellipsoptera nevadica knausi (Knaus’ tiger beetle) and Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) were seen on the drier margins of the alkaline flats. Several Epicauta conferta (red-cornered blister beetle) were seen lumbering across the path, and a Diogmites angustipennis (prairie robber fly) posed nicely on the trail for pictures as well.
Showy Eustoma russellianum (prairie gentian)—a plant I’ve never seen before—were blooming spectacularly and prolifically in the vegetated areas bordering the alkaline flats.
It was a quick but interesting stop that rejuvenated the legs before we continued our journey westward.
The first “real” stop of the trip was ~5 miles north of Goodwell in Texas Co., Oklahoma where I placed three white bottle traps in early June hoping to capture the very rare Acmaeodera robigo, which had been photographed here on flowers of Melampodium leucanthemum (blackfoot daisy) and the photos posted on BugGuide. I was never able to contact the photographer, but since bottle traps are so effective at sampling species of Acmaeodera I reasoned placing three traps here (one at the precise spot and two more several hundred yards to the north and to the south) would give me the best chance of collecting it. It had already been dark for an hour before we reached the spot, but despite the darkness and late hour I had no trouble finding each of three traps. I was happy to see all three traps still in place, undisturbed, and filled to the brim with insects. I tried to pick out the larger insects (mostly crickets and grasshoppers) and stir through the remaining contents of each trap a bit to see if I could detect any Acmaeodera, but the majority of insects appeared to be small blister beetles, followed by bees. The darkness made further sorting impossible, so I bagged the contents of each trap and saved for later sorting. [Edit: later sorting found only a couple of Acmaeodera mixta? in just one of the traps and no A. robigo.]
We arrived at our first overnight spot—Black Mesa State Park—quite late (~11:30 pm) and quickly setup camp before retiring for the evening. In the middle of the night I got up, came out of the tent, and was greeted by an incredible amazing starscape that is normally only seen during winter. Taurus was already high in the sky, and Orion was well above the horizon with a brightly shining Jupiter not too far to its left.
Night sky at Black Mesa State Park. Orion has risen, with Taurus above and Jupiter just rising in the lower left.
Day 2
In the morning, a canyon towhee (Melozone fusca) kept us company as we prepared breakfast and then broke camp for another mostly travel day
Canyon towhee (Melozone fusca).
Our destination this evening is Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, to which we will travel by way of northeastern New Mexico and then southwestern Colorado.
Abandoned homestead outside of Clayton, New Mexico.
Shortly after crossing into Colorado we made a pit stop for ice and I began searching the pavement around the gas station looking for beetles that may have come into the previous night’s lights. I didn’t find any cerambycids but I did find a small tenebrionid beetle that didn’t look like familiar to me.
Crossing the Sangre de Cristo and then the San Juan ranges were as spectacular a mountain crossings as any that Colorado has to offer, and a coffee stop in Pagosa Springs (at Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie) provided not only good coffee and pastries to fuel me for the rest of the drive to Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, but interesting and creatively framed art work to treat the eyes while waiting for our orders.
“Art wall” in Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Butterflies”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Gentleman Frog”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Cow”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
Weather during the drive had been good all day, but on the final approach to Devils Canyon Campground the skies began looking worryingly threatening. The last time I came here (early June) I had intended to camp here but got rained out and took a motel in town. I did not want a repeat of that, so we kept our fingers crossed and made the final drive to the campground. Although still threatening, it was not actually raining when we arrived (unlike last time), so we took our chances and set up camp. No sooner than that did the rain start! Fortunately, the tent was already up, so it just meant that instead of cooking dinner at the site, we would instead go to town and have dinner (Dave’s BBQ). When we got back to camp, the rain had stopped (although we could tell that it had rained hard), so I decided to walk the roads looking for night-active beetles. I knew this was probably a fruitless exercise—by then the post-rain temps at this 7000’ site were already down to the mid-50s, but it would give me a chance to stretch my legs after two straight days of driving, and I could also take that opportunity to retrieve the bottle and jug traps that I had set back in June. The bottle trap was disappointing, especially after seeing the ones I’d set near Goodwell, Oklahoma filled to the brim with insects—just a handful of bees (for Mike) and no beetles of any kind. This was surprising given the many Acmaeodera I have collected in alpine habitats just like this (Ponderosa pine and Gambel oak). The SRW-baited jug trap, on the other hand, was nicely (if not overwhelmingly) productive (Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., small elaphidiines, small acanthocine with very long antennae, Xestoleptura?)—enough to make it worth the effort. I was also pleased to see that the jug trap was in still place and intact with the catch in good shape despite three months in the field. The bait bottle was still about half full of red wine, but since the propylene glycol had dried the trap was no longer trapping insects. As I’d expected, no night-active insects were seen in the way to the traps or on the way back.
Day 3
It was a chilly morning, and though it had not rained since our arrival last night the skies remained overcast. The day’s plan was to continue west to the Ponderosa Grove Campground in southwestern Utah (north of Kanab), but with only five hours of driving required to get there we would have time to make a few stops along the way. Before leaving I started checking the Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), several of which had begun blooming in the campground, and found a few Crossidius coralinus and Acmaeodera amabilis on the flowers. I was tempted to suggest staying put—at least for a short time—and exploring the area a little more fully, but my real objectives were further west and I elected to stick with the plan.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Acmaeodera amabilis (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
One of the stops I’d made along this way last June was 4 miles east of Bluff in San Juan Co., Utah, where the famous Mont Cazier had collected what would later be described as Agrilus utahensis. I did not find it in June (nor did I fully expect to, since the record was from late July), and I was equally skeptical about my chances this time given how much later it was in the season. On the way here, we got caught behind an oversized load on the highway that was so big it required three highway patrol chaperone vehicles to clear the road ahead. Going at about half the speed limit, I worried we might have to follow it the entire way to our turnoff, which would nearly double our travel time to the first spot. Fortunately, the caravan pulled over at one point to let the long train of trsffic that had accumulated behind it pass, and we were on our way (the convoy would later pass us at the very spot where we had stopped to collect).
Oversized convoy!
The location was disappointing dry and crispy, although Gutierrezia sarothroides (broom snakeweed) was coming into bloom. Sweeping it eventually produced about a dozen Crossidius pulchellus and two other beetles (a clytrine leaf beetle and a weevil), and Mike collected a handsome series and diversity of bees off of flowering Eriogonum sp. (buckwheat).
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Our drive afterwards through southeastern Utah and northeastern Arizona took us through some of the most amazing scenery that the American West has to offer—red sand/siltstones sculpted through the eons by wind and rain have created a landscape that can only be described as “planetary.”
Monument Valley, southeastern Utah.
Eventually, the dramatic landscape gave way to a more monotonous series of desert plateaus periodically interrupted by dramatic descents and canyons as we got deeper into north-central Arizona. Though pleasing to the eye, there were few signs of greenery of flowers to tempt the passing entomologist except occasional stands of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) beginning to bloom in higher elevation spots. We kept our nose to the grindstone, hoping to see better things once we passed through Page and crossed back into south-central Utah, but the landscape became even crispier, with a stop about 20 miles northwest of Page to look for Nanularia brunnea on Eriogonum inflatum (which I had found two years ago in late June) being a total bust. We expected/hoped that the higher elevations around Ponderosa Grove Campground (~6000’) would provide better collecting and continued there without haste. Our expectations/hopes proved well-founded, as blooming rabbitbrush was seen with greater frequency as we traveled north of Kanab and even more so along Hancock Rd approaching the campground. We took a few moments to scout out a good campsite and setup camp before spending the rest of the available daylight hours exploring. For me the rabbitbrush was most tempting, and scouting plants in the campground and the vicinity east produced small but nice series of Crossidius coralinus and Typocerus balteatus. As I was doing so, a sinking sun and virga to the east produced an impressive rainbow that became irresistible for photography—not only as a subject itself but as a backdrop for the beetles I was finding.
Rainbow at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Typocerus balteatus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
After some downtime back at camp (and grilled sirloin steaks for dinner), I did my customary nighttime patrol to check for night-active insects. This campground was especially productive when I did this back in June and found several Zopherus utahensis and other tenebrionids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pines that are the namesake of this campground.
A near-full moon rises over our campsite at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
This time was no different—while I found only a single Z. utahensis, I did also find a few specimens of Coelocnemis sulcata, including a mating pair, on the trunks of the trees …
Coelocnemis sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) mating pair on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
… and a single Embaphion sp. on the ground at the base of another. There are several massively-trunked Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) in the campground as well, on which another C. sulcata was found. Despite this success and the relatively early hour, I was exhausted and called it quits for the night and retire. We will spend the entirety of the day here tomorrow, so I’ll have another chance to check the tree trunks again tomorrow night.
Day 4
After a relaxing morning at the campsite (during which time I caught up on my field notes while enjoying double-pour-through coffee), I walked over to the sand dune-adjacent woodlands to retrieve the traps that I’d set there back in June and brought them back to the campsite for sorting. I was happy to see Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) and many other plants in bloom and looked forward to checking them more closely after servicing the trap catches.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) blooming in sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
The yellow bottle trap had ~15-20 beetles, including several Acmaeodera spp., a lepturine cerambycid, and a tiny Dichelonyx-like scarab (a relief after getting skunked with the bottle trap I’d set in Devils Canyon). There were also a fair number of bees in the trap, which I gave to Mike. The SRW-baited jug trap also did well, containing Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., several Psyrassa sp., and another colorful little lepturine along with several Euphoria inda, several small clerids, a mantispid, and numerous small beetles I take to be oedemerids. After processing the trap catch, I went back over to the woodlands and dunes, spending more than three hours collecting off the flowers of E. nauseosa and other flowers.
Typocerus balteatus was found not uncommonly on the flowers in most of the areas that I covered, while Crossidius coralinus and C. suturalis were found a bit more sparingly.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Crossidius suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
I also found Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of Grindelia squarrosa (curlycup gumweed), Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), and E. nauseosa, but they were limited to the woodlands and not seen in the dunes.
Acmaeodera rubronotata (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster).
I also found several individuals of an interesting little weevil on the rabbitbrush flowers, its gray/black longitudinally striped body making a good subject for photography (for which I also brought back a live A. rubronotata and a mating pair of ambush bugs), and spent a bit of time photographing some of the other blooming plants in the area.
By the time I feel like I’d gotten a good enough look at the area, nearly four hours had gone by and I was famished. Sardines and Triscuits did the trick, after which we did a quick ice run into town and back—the highlights being an authentic Sinclair dinosaur (he’s smiling!) and an real (though non-functioning) pay phone.
The famous “Sinclair dinosaur.”
He’s smiling!
An authentic (though non-functional) pay phone.
Returning to the campground, I walked with Mike back into the dunes to retrieve his bowl traps. I had hoped that some of them would pick up Acmaeodera (as is often the case with bowl traps and why I have started utilizing them on my own collecting trips), but the only species that would be out in this area at this time of season would be A. rubronotata, which I had already collected earlier in the day (there were none).
Mike services a “bowl trap.”
After a period relaxing (with a cold beer and burgers hot off the grill), I began my customary night walk. I have yet to find a cerambycid on tree trunks at night here, but still I enjoy night walks here as much as anywhere due to the consistent presence of ironclad beetles and other tenebrionoids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pine trees that give the campground its name.
Another near-full moon rises over the campsite.
Tonight would be no different—I found Zopherus uteanus on just the second tree that I examined (right in our campsite), and I would also find two species of tenebrionids in the vicinity on the trunks of ponderosas (Coelocnemis sulcata and Eleodes obscura sulcipennis) and a third species (ID unknown) on the ground at the base of one of them.
Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Coelocnemus sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
At that point, I decided to go outside of the loop towards a couple of large P. ponderosa at the entrance, and on the way I found another E. obscura sulcipennis on the trunk of a massively old Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper). There was nothing on the P. ponderosa trees that I had targeted, but nearby was another large one, and high up on the trunk (as far as my fully extended net could reach) was another Z. uteanus, and several C. sulcata—including a mating pair—were found on the ground at its base.
At that point I decided to limit my tenebrionoid collecting to only Zopherus unless I saw species that I hadn’t seen before, so I passed by some additional tenebrionids of the same species as the previous on a large P. ponderosa in the RV loop, then saw a large, multi-branched Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) that I thought might be interesting to check. I did not find any beetles on it, but I did locate at eye level—with considerable difficulty!—a male Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket). I was not only able to take a photograph of it with its wings fanned but also record an audio track up close (posted on iNaturalist).
Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket—family Oecanthidae) male singing on trunk of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) at night (song).
Returning to the tent loop, I checked all of the large P. ponderosa trees and junipers that had—during the past visit and last night—been so productive, but the only beetles I found was a very small tenebrionid that, fortunately, was yet another species I had not previously seen here (ID unknown). After two hours of searching tree trunks, I called an end to the night, which also meant a close to the collecting at this spot—tomorrow we will drive to Kyle Canyon in southern Nevada!
Day 5
Our exit from Ponderosa Grove took us through more of the spectacular canyonland that southern Utah is famous for and past the incredible Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park (so spectacular it is that I think it could—despite its small size—be a national park). A dramatic descent down into the Virgin River valley and the town of Hurricane was only the first such descent—the second one being even more dramatic as I-15 dropped off the edge of the Colorado Plateau along the Virgin River Gorge. The remainder of the drive to Kyle Canyon northwest of Las Vegas was mindnumbing in its contrast—an endless stretch of interstate highway through a vast expanse of low, hot, featureless desert punctuated at regular intervals by palm tree dotted oases, each with a gaudy, glittering casino at its center. Driving up Kyle Canyon Rd put an end to this, however, as each thousand foot gain in elevation brought with it an increasingly interesting landscape. At about 4500’ elevation, I had set a couple of bottle traps—one yellow, one blue—hoping to catch the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (whose namesake—Mike Raschko—I had happened to meet at Ponderosa Grove Campground last June a few days before I set the traps!). Mike R. had also placed a bottle trap (white) at the site and was kind enough to reset it for me so I would have three colors sampling the area. Both of my traps were still in place, intact, and filled with numerous Acmaeodera that I take to be A. quadrivittata (along with many bees for Mike A.) and the yellow also containing a larger species that I didn’t immediately recognize (not unusual since I have never collected this area). Unfortunately, I did not see any specimens that appeared to be A. raschkoi, and even more unfortunately the white bottle trap had been pulled from the ground (although I was able to recover a few A. quadrivittata that were still inside the trap). Not much else was going on at the site—only a few things in sparse bloom but no beetles visiting the flowers, nor was there any rabbitbrush around on which to look for Crossidius.
We got a scare when we arrived at the campground and saw a sign at the entrance saying “Campground Full.” This was bad—if this campground was full, then surely the much more heavily used one down below was also full, and I didn’t look forward to spending the rest of the afternoon scrambling for a campsite somewhere in the Spring Mountains. We drove through the campground anyway, and, in fact, there were many campsites available! Looks like somebody forgot to do their job!
“Campground Full” sign at a not-full Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
Crisis averted, we selected a nice spot overlooking the desert below and set up camp. Cool evening temps come early at this high elevation (~8300’), so with the remaining afternoon hours I retrieved and sorted my SRW-baited jug trap, finding several Tragosoma sp. but, curiously, not a single other longhorned beetle (or any beetle for that matter). Searching around the area afterwards, I extracted a dead Dicerca tenebrosa partial carcass in its emergence hole in a stump of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine), then went back down to the area I had collected last time, focusing especially on the two large half-dead Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) trees on which I had seen damage from the rarely collected Semanotus juniperi (on one of which I collected three adults later that night). There was nothing on the first (the one on which I found the beetles), but at the second one I saw a large wind-thrown branch that I had not noticed last time. It exhibited S. juniperi damage and emergence holes on the lower part, and chopping into it I quickly recovered a dead but intact carcass of yet another S. juniperi adult. Further chopping turned up nothing, and I was about to walk away when I thought maybe I should cut into the upper part of the branch as well to look for evidence smaller woodboring species. Doing so, I quickly encountered a Chrysobothris sp. larva, and with that I decided to bring the entire upper part of the branch back for rearing. There wasn’t much else going on—few plants were in flower and nothing was seen on the trunks of trees or various pieces of downed wood that were laying about, so I went back to camp.
Alpine pinyon/juniper woodland at Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
An elevation of 8300’ affords spectacular views into the desert below.
Later in the evening, we watched a spectacular moonrise, then enjoyed “surf ‘n’ turf” (grilled sirloin steak and salmon) before I started up my customary night walk to check tree trunks for night-active beetles.
Angel Peak Radar Station at sunset.
“Corn Moon” rising.
Peeking through the trees.
Last time here when I did this, I found not only S. juniperi but also a few Zopherus uteanus, so I was hopeful for my chance tonight despite the lateness of the season. It started out well—on the first P. monophylla tree that I checked (right at our campsite), I found Oeme costata and a weevil.
Oeme costata (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of P. monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Those would be the last live beetles I would see (other than an occasional tenebrionid beetle, none of which I collected). However, I would still find success—back at the J. osteosperma on which I had found three S. juniperi back in June, I found three more. They were not alive, however, but dead carcasses at the base of the tree—two nearly completely intact and the other partially so.
Western deer mouse (Peromyscus sonoriensis) at night.
Day 6
We had planned to visit few localities at middle and lower elevations but stopped to check out the profusely-blooming Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) right outside the campground entrance for bees and beetles. Curiously, hardly anything was seen on the flowers despite the by then late-morning hour, sunny skies, and temps above 70°F. It seemed odd to me that there were no Crossidius beetles on the blooms, and the thought occurred to me that maybe the occurrence of E. nauseosa in the area itself could be a relatively recent phenomenon since it is only seen—albeit profusely—along the roads and highways in the area but nowhere further within the native habitats. With nothing going on, we pushed down to the lowest elevation point that caught our eye on the way in yesterday—the Step Ladder Trailhead at ~6700’.
Again, E. nauseosa was blooming profusely around the parking lot, but a quick perusal made it clear the situation would be similar here as well. Mike, on the other hand, was having good success collecting bees off of E. nauseosa and especially Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), so I was content to stay and refocus by searching for infested wood. I noticed a lot of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) and quickly found one with a dead but still attached, fully-barked branch. I broke the branch off the tree, and there in the broken butt of the branch was a large chrysobothroid larvae! This quickly prompted a decision to collect the infested branch and put it up for rearing. A second larvae was found in a small dead (but still fully-barked) tree nearby, which was added to the bundle. While this was going on, Mike found what seemed to be Agrilus blandus? in his net while sweeping bees from the flowers of G. sarothrae. I recall collecting this species in southern California in flowers of Eriogonum (wild buckwheat), so finding it on other flowers—particularly if Eriogonum is in the area (but not seen because it was not blooming) did not seem out of the question. My much more thorough sweeping of the plants around the area where he found it, however, produced no additional specimens. I was also interrupted in my sweeping attempts by a couple of curious bystanders—one a woman from Ukraine who wondered what the plant was that I was sweeping (I told her “broom snakeweed”) and what it was good for (“brooms” I wryly replied and then quickly clarified its role in the ecosystem), and then offered me a beetle collecting tip by telling me about large beetles they call “bombers” and that bite people sitting in spas in Southern California (I presume these are diving beetles in the family Dytiscidae); and the other a young man who was pleased to hear I was from St. Louis because he used to live there when he was married to his ex-wife. This all happened while I was in the middle of my sweeps, so I held the net bag firmly to keep insects from escaping my net until I could resume my sweeping. Eventually, I gave up the ghost and resumed my search for dead, infested wood, eventually finding a Cercocarpus ledifolius (curl-leaf mountain mahogany) tree with one recently-dead and one older dead branch, the former buprestid-infested (verified by cutting into the wood and finding young buprestid larvae) and which I collected for rearing.
View of Fletcher Peak from Step Ladder Trailhead.
After lunch back at the campground and some time spent processing specimens (as well as enjoying the antics of our resident golden-mantled ground squirrel [Callospermophilus lateralis certus]), …
Mount Charleston golden-mantled ground squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis certus).
… I wanted to check out the nearby Deer Creek Picnic Area where I’d seen a lot of iNaturalist observations (suggesting it might be an interesting place). At first all I saw was the massive parking lot below an equally massive road-cut slope—the only thing that looked like a trail was a steep drop down to the creek below. I checked it out, only to find it dead-ending at the creek and clambered back up.
A massive Ponderosa pine looms above.
Then I saw a gravel trail behind the guardrail on the opposite side of the highway and found it leading to a paved path up the creek. Much of the trail was covered with a deep layer of gravel from flooding (and indeed some of the picnic tables were also nearly completely buried). I hiked the trail as it ascended alongside the creek under massive ponderosa pines until it dead-ended at a gravel road and turned around. The only plants in flower was Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), and it was only near the highway, and while I saw no insects that I wished to collect, I did see a large Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly) that frustrated my attempts to photograph it until I finally “pre-set” the focus, exposure, and zoom and quickly fired off a few shots at the distance I’d set it for as soon as the fly landed. The virtual lack of insect activity here confirmed what we’ve been seeing in the area as a whole, so I’ll be anxious to leave tomorrow and head for (hopefully) greener pastures at Leeds Canyon back in southwest Utah.
Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly—family Tachinidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Day 7
The drive from Kyle Canyon to Leeds Canyon was essentially a straight shot on I-15—normally a recipe for extreme boredom; however, coming back up through the Virgin River Gorge was a different, even more awe inspiring experience than the descent two days earlier. Ascending such a steep narrow canyon has the breathtakingly tall canyon bluffs looming high overhead, dwarfing the traffic, even the largest semi tractor trailers, snaking up below, whereas descending into a seemingly bottomless chasm feels a little more “dangerous.” We arrived at Leeds Canyon relatively early thanks to the “only” 3-hours drive. The area looked very dry, but a variety of blooming plants kept us optimistic as we made our way up the canyon road towards Oak Grove Campground at the top.
Leeds Canyon in southwestern Utah.
Sadly, optimism turned to dismay in an instant when we encountered a “Road Closed” sign about halfway up—a result of the ongoing fire risk that has bplagued the area this season. We checked to see if the campground on the other side of the mountain range was available, only to learn that it was closed due to fire damage. At that point, our decision was made for us—we would need to continue another two hours to the Kaibab Plateau where I had my last sets of traps to retrieve and where we could camp at Jacob Lake. While we were here, however, we took the opportunity to stop at a spot along Leeds Creek and see what we could find.
Oak Grove Rd crosses Leeds Creek in the lower part of Leeds Canyon.
Several different plants were in bloom, on which I’d hoped to find either Acmaeodera or longhorned beetles, the first that I looked at being Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), but I only saw small dasytines (a few of which I collected). Nothing was seen on Solidago velutinus (velvety goldenrod) or Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberry leaf globemallow) flowers, but then Mike came up with a Crossidius discoideus on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Careful searching of the plants in the surrounding area atop a small hill turned up an additional half-dozen individuals, but none were seen on any of the plants further up or down along the road. By this time, we’d spent about an hour and decided to finish the additional 2-hours drive needed to get to Jacob Lake.
Megaphorus sp. (family Asilidae).
Historic home in nearby Harrisburg, Utah.
Some of the western U.S.’s worst fires this season occurred on Arizona’s Kaibab Plateau. The Dragon Bravo Fire destroyed over 100 structures on the Grand Canyon’s North Rim—including the historic Grand Canyon Lodge and the North Rim Visitor Center, while the White Sage Fire simultaneously burned significant areas of Kaibab National Forest north and east of Jacob Lake. It was the latter that, unfortunately, swept across both of the sites where I had placed traps a month earlier in June, so I was not optimistic about the likelihood that they had survived. Fortunately, the fires did not reach the immediate vicinity of Jacob Lake, so the campground was unaffected and—unusual in my experience—nearly devoid of people. After setting up camp, I went back north into the burn zone to see if my traps 1) had survived and 2) could be retrieved. The area around the site was almost completely destroyed, with charred black skeletons of trees dotting blackened soils devoid of any vegetation.
Aftermath of the White Sage Fire in the Kaibab National Forest.
I had low expectations for the traps at this site even before the fires, as the area had already burned several years early and was in the early stages of recovery (I had decided to place traps here anyway because I wanted to see what the woodboring beetle fauna in a recovering area might look like).
Blackened trunks punctuate a stark landscape.
I continued walking the 2-track toward the trap location surveying the damage, came around a bend, and saw it—a lone, still-green pinyon pine with my jug trap hanging from a branch and a bottle trap, its yellow funnel only slightly heat deformed, still planted in the soil beneath the tree!
A lone green tree amongst the destruction—with my traps in the tree and below it both intact!
At first I was elated, but then I saw the jug trap reservoir was dry and almost completely empty save for a few dried beetle carcasses—the trap had survived the fires, but the associated winds had blown the trap and dumped the contents (none of which could be detected on the ground beneath). The bottle trap, on the other had, looked to be full of insects with plenty of liquid still in the reservoir, so I was hopeful that I would retrieve some good specimens from it. This proved to be the case (sort of!) as I pulled a few Anthaxia sp., a meloid, and lots of bees (for Mike) from the trap. The dried carcasses in the SRW-baited jug trap turned out to be an elaphidiine & several silphids.
After leaving the first trap site and driving towards the second (a few miles east of Jacob Lake), I saw little to no fire impacts as I continued east of Jacob Lake. However, as I got closer to the site I began to see impacts—first along the ridge above, then down the slope and engulfing the area where I had placed my traps. Fortunately, the fire did not seem to have been as severe in the immediate area, so I remained hopeful.
Intact jug trap in burned woodland east of Jacob Lake, Arizona.
The bottle trap was found first and was in much the same condition as the bottle trap at the previous location—it’s blue funnel slightly heat-deformed, but the reservoir was filled with liquid and insects. Later sorting yielded an Acmaeodera diffusa?, a Melanophila sp., a couple of Anthaxia sp., a clerid, and lots of bees (for Mike). The Melanophila sp. was especially welcome—known collectively as “fire beetles” for their attraction to active fires, its presence in the trap may have been been a direct result of the fire. The SRW-baited jug trap was quickly found next, and much to my relief the trap was not only intact and undamaged but also filled with insects (in fact, the propylene glycol had not even completely dried). Later sorting would yield only a single longhorned beetle (plus a silphid and a Euphoria inda), but that longhorned beetle would prove to be the catch of the trip—Calloides nobilis mormonus! I have reared a single individual of the nominate subspecies from fire-damaged oak collected in Missouri, so I suspect the presence of this beetle is also a direct result of the fires that swept through the area—a satisfying irony.
Calloides nobilis mormonus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to sweet red wine-baited jug trap.
Back at camp and after another “surf & turf” dinner of sirloin steak and salmon, I did my customary nighttime walk to look for night-active beetles on the ground and in tree trunks. I had good luck with this here back in June, finding a Zopherus uteanus and several other beetles, but tonight’s catch consisted of just a single Temnochila sp. (family Trogosittidae) and a single weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) crawling on the large trunks of Pinus ponderosa.
Unidentified weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 8
I’d seen a fair amount of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) in bloom at the second site the previous day when I retrieved my traps but didn’t see any insects (or, at least, beetles or bees) on them. I figured this was due to the early evening hour, so we decided to come back during the day to try again. The E. nauseosa flowers were still, puzzlingly, devoid of insects (save for honey bees and enormous numbers of a large, black, bristly tachinine fly—possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta).
Tachinine fly (possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta—family Tachindae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Like at Kyle Canyon, the absence of Crossidius spp. on E. nauseosa flowers was surprising, as I have seen them on this plant at almost every other location I have ever checked. You can’t make things appear no matter how hard you look, however, so we continued into some openings farther up the slop and encountered a few other plants in bloom. One was Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), on the flowers of which I found a few small beetles of an unknown family. Nearby I saw several dead main branches in a clump of Quercus gambelli (Gambel oak)—cutting into them revealed a very small woodboring beetle larvae, so I collected several of the stems for rearing. Coming back down the slope I found a single cryptocephaline on the flower of Eriogonum racemosa (redroot buckwheat) and a single Acmaeidera rubronotata on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed)—the latter on which Mike had also found a single Crossidius discoideus. (This seems to be the first record of any species of Crossidius from the Kaibab Plateau! Maybe the other species are here as well but are not quite out yet at this relatively early date in fall.)
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) collected on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
We were getting ready to leave when I spotted a large, fallen Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) with the twigs brown but still attached (indicating it might be the right “amount” of dead to host woodboring beetles. Damage by such could be seen on the smaller branches, and cutting into them confirmed the presence of larvae and led to a second wood-cutting/bundling session to bring the beetle-infested twigs and branches back for rearing.
Chasing more floriferous pastures, we went back up to higher elevations and stopped at a spot close to the campground where we 1) saw a great diversity of plants in bloom and 2) could safely pull off the highway. A huge diversity of blooming plants were seen (from which Mike collected ~20 species of bees), but the only beetles of interest that I saw and collected were numerous small black/red cryptocephalines on the flowers of Eriogonum racemosum (redroot buckwheat). After Mike was satisfied he’d sufficiently sampled the diversity of bees at the site, we looked for another place to collect.
We drove south towards DeMotte Campground on Hwy 67, but much of the landscape was complete devastation due to the fires and no access was allowed beyond Kaibab Lodge. It was depressing to see the immense scale of destruction and loss of natural resources, but as one forest worker that Mike talked to put it, “It’s just trees, and he didn’t have to call anybody’s family [i.e., there was no loss of life].” We then drove back down past my second trap location where we had collected earlier in the day to see if we could find better stands of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) on which to look for more Crossidius discoideus (still represented in the area by the single individual Mike had collected earlier). We drove through even more complete and utter destruction but eventually found undamaged areas at about 6600’ elevation. Not only was there G. sarothrae in bloom, but also Chrysothamnus visicidiorus (green rabbitbrush) and Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush)—all three species serving as hosts for various Crossidius and providing a perfect scenario for comparing and contrasting the sometimes-tricky-to-identify plants! The promise of Crossidius, however, would not be realized, and after an hour of searching—finding only a lone weevil on the flowers of E. nauseosa—did I finally admit defeat and concede that Crossidius from this after would have to come some other time.
Inflorescences of Gutierrezia sarothrae (left), Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (middle), and Ericameria nauseosa (right). Note the distinct ray florets of G. sarothrae and blue-green leaves of E. nauseosa.
I hadn’t planned to do my customary nighttime walk this evening—my motivation waning after the less than meager success of the previous night, continuing relative absence of beetle life I’d seen during the day, and temps now dropping towards the 50s. A cute but shy Uinta chipmunk in our campsite captured my photographic interest as we relaxed, and the setting sun turned the clouds a stunning pink!
An Uinta chipmunk (Neotamias umbrinus) climbs a Ponderosa pine to stay as far from my camera as possible!
However, as night fell the siren song of the nighttime walk began singing its tune and I was unable to resist.
The setting sun turns the clouds an exceptional pink.
It turned out to be a more successful night than I’d expected—I found a small species of tenebrionid [Edit 10/1/25: Eleodes pimelioides] on the rocks surrounding the campsite, and there turned out to be dozens of the little buggers crawling though the pine duff in the campground.
Eleodes pimelioides (family Tenebrionidae) in alpine coniferous forest at night.
Nothing else was seen, however, and since tomorrow would be a long travel day I called it an early night.
Day 9
On a mostly travel day, we tried to take a big bite out of the many miles that still separate us from St. Louis, where we planned to be in three days time. We got another look at the devastation east of Jacob Lake before reaching the dramatic drop off the Kaibab Plateau and down into the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument—their massive red bluffs accompanying us all the way to Mojave Canyon. Just south of there as the highway climbed up and out of the valley, we made a quick stop to remove excess clothing (having gone from high elevation to low), and alongside the road I spotted a Crossidius pulchellus on the flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed). This is the furthest southwest I have collected this species, and I was tempted to continue looking to see if I could find the other G. sarothrae associate—C. discoideus—as well. We still had a long drive ahead of us, however (destination Mills Rim Campground in northeastern New Mexico), so I resisted temptation and we continued the drive.
The Vermilion Cliffs, stunning as they were, still weren’t the highlight of the drive. That honor would come from the moonscape formations along Hwy 89 as it followed the Echo Cliffs and then turned east onto Hwy 160 towards Tuba City. We then passed through a series of stunning plateaus and drops on Hwy 264 as it passed through the Navajo and Hopi Reservations. One abandoned house as we dropped down off the Ganado Mesa was especially picture-worthy.
Abandoned home on the Ganado Plateau near Kykotsmovi Village, Arizona.
Eventually we crossed the state line at Picture Rocks into New Mexico, and, suddenly, the landscape seemed more “tame” and less hostile. I don’t normally like interstates, and the stretch of I-40 to Albuquerque did nothing to change my opinion of them, but I must admit that I-25 north towards Santa Fe was among the most picturesque I have ever seen. Eventually, we left the mountains and found ourselves once again on the western edge of the Great Plains—its vast featureless expanse a true contrast to the landscape we had witnessed throughout most of the day. This apparent homogeneity, however, is misleading—tucked away in places unknown to most are some remarkable natural areas, and Mills Rim is one such place. We arrived after dark, so the explorations of its hidden charms would have to wait until the next day, but after getting camp set up I did a short nighttime walk to see what was out and about.
Night sky at Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., northeastern New Mexico.
Only one beetle, Stenomorpha sp. (family Tenebrionidae) ambling across the ground, was seen.
Many plants in bloom were also seen however, so I went to bed optimistic about my prospects for finding beetles the next day.
Day 10
Mosquitoes were bad during the previous night, and they were bad again the following morning, prompting liberal use of repellent to a much greater degree than I am used to. At the same time, the presence of mosquitoes indicates abundant moisture in an area, and it was with that optimism that I set about searching for jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, tiger beetles, and whatever other insects could catch my eye in this hidden jewel of a place. Surrounded by treeless grasslands (and preserved as the Kiowa National Grasslands), Mills Rim Campground sits at the edge of Mills Canyon—a chasm in the landscape at the edge of a plateau bordering the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Firmly embedded in the Great Plains, the juniper/pine/oak woodland at the edge of and down in the canyon features plants and animals at their easternmost extent—residents of the Rocky Mountains that have found an isolated home in the middle of the grasslands. Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine), Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine), Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper), Juniperus scopulorum (Rocky Mountain juniper), Quercus grisea (gray oak), and Quercus × undulata (wavy leaf oak) all make their homes here, hosting innumerable insect species that are normally more at home in the Rocky Mountains.
View into Mills Canyon from Mills Rim Campground.
I’ve collected here several times and recorded many different western species of beetles, but the height of the season seems to be in June and July. Mid-September, in contrast, seems to be near the tail end of the season, the numbers and diversity of beetles and other insects dropping from their highs earlier in the season. The flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae, however, were hosting lots of insects. In addition to Crossidius pulchellus, Chauliognathus basalis, Bothrotes canalicularis, and Collops sp., Mike found numerous bee species, mostly females, collecting pollen from the flowers.
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Chauliognathus basalis (family Cantharidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Bothrotes canalicularis (family Tenebrionidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
A couple of species of robber flies—Ospricerus sp. and Efferia sp.—were also taken in flight, presumably patrolling the flowers of G. sarothrae for bee prey.
Ospricerus sp. (family Asilidae) patrolling flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) for bee prey.
Nysius sp. (false chinch bugs—family Lygaeidae) on flower of Erigeron divergens (spreading fleabane).
Mirabilis linearis (narrowleaf four o’clock—family Nyctaginaceae).
After a rest and rehydration break, I followed the road down Mills Canyon as it approaches the Canadian River to see if I could find Ericameria nauseosa—should I be able to, it would surely be at or near the easternmost limit of occurrence for the species in this part of New Mexico.
Mills Canyon above the Canadian River.
A bit further down Mills Canyon Road.
About half a mile down the road I began seeing Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of G. sarothrae, and I eventually secured a series of about a half dozen specimens. This is a nice record, as I found a single specimen a couple of years ago at Black Mesa in northwestern Oklahoma—a new state record and northeastern range extension, and this record helps bridge the gap between that record and the species’ more normal range of distribution across New Mexico and Arizona. Finally, nearly a mile into the canyon, I found one large blooming E. nauseosa and a smaller pre-bloom plant, but there were no Crossidius beetles on them, nor were any additional plants were seen a hundred yards or so further down the road, so I turned around.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae) along Mills Canyon Road.
On the way back out of the canyon, I collected a Calopteron sp. (family Lycidae) on senescing Melilotus alba (white clover) and photographed a female Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae).
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Back at camp, a couple of scarabaeoid beetles flew to the light of the lamp while we were relaxing with refreshments in hand and waiting for the coals to be ready. This suggested that maybe conditions were favorable for setting up the ultraviolet lights to attract other insects.
A final night of relaxing at camp with refreshments in hand.
After finishing dinner, we did exactly that and saw a few interesting insects show up, but shortly after setting up the lights the wind began to kick up, the temps began to drop, and increasingly frequent gusts making further lighting impossible!
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) male attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Schistocerca nitens (gray bird grasshopper—family Acrididae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Ophion sp. (short-tailed ichneumon wasp—family Ichneumoidae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Day 11
It was a rather sleepless final night in the tent—winds whipped as we turned in for the night, and shortly afterwards we awoke to rain splattering our faces through the fly-less tent roof. We quick got up and put on the rain fly, then listened to light but steady rain for most of the rest of the night. By the time we got up it had mostly stopped, but cool conditions with low-hanging, fast-moving clouds caused us to quickly break camp and save coffee and breakfast for Mocks Coffee Shop in Clayton, New Mexico near the Oklahoma state line (let me tell you how difficult it was for me to drive two hours first thing in the morning without coffee!). We had wanted to make our final collecting stop at a a lot near Kenton in the Black Mesa area of extreme northwestern Oklahoma, but the forecast for the area showed only slightly warmer temperatures and very gusty winds. This would make collecting there pointless, so we instead traveled four more hours east to get in front of the cold front at another of our favorite collecting spots, Gloss Mountain State Park in Major Co.
Gloss Mountain State Park features gypsum-capped mesas atop Permian red siltstones.
I was hoping to see an attractive late-season jewel beetle—Acmaeodera macra, which I had collected here and at nearby Alabaster Caverns State Park in previous years during late September. Temps were good (well over 80°F) when we arrived but the hour was already late (near 4:00 p.m.), so we had limited time for collecting before insects would start bedding down for the evening (usually around 5:00 to 6:00 p.m. at this point in the season). Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada) and Neotibicen aurífera (prairie cicada) males were still singing abundantly, filling the air with their distinctive songs (video of M. dorsata male singing here).
Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing on my hand after being taken from the stem of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower).
Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) and Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed) were blooming prolifically, off the flowers of which Mike collected a fair diversity of bees. I’d hoped to find beetles on the flowers as well, but they were limited almost exclusively to Chauliognathus limbicollis.
Chauliognathus limbicollis (family Cantharidae) on flower of Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed).
I did collect a male/female pair of Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer) on the seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed) and photographed the striking and beautiful caterpillar of Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer—family Cerambycidae) on seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed).
Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth—family Noctuidae) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
After that, I went up on top of the main mesa where I expected A. macra to occur. Heterotheca stenophylla (stiffleaf false goldenaster), on the flowers of which I collected A. macra in previous years, was blooming abundantly, but intense searching their flowers produced no beetles. I also noticed that Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), abundant in the area as well, was in only the earliest stages of bloom, suggesting to me that it might still be a bit too early for the jewel beetles to be out. By the time the 6:00 hour arrived, insect activity was noticeably diminished, and we wrapped up this, our final, collecting stop of the trip.
No camping is available at Gloss Mountain State Park, so we knocked out another hour and a half of travel by driving to Ponca City in north-central Oklahoma and taking a hotel there. For the first time since we left, we enjoyed dinner at a restaurant (fried catfish for me!), a hot shower, and a real bed!
Day 12
The following morning, we were surprised to learn that the only coffee shops in town were Starbuck’s and drive-throughs. This just wasn’t going to cut it for us on our final travel day, so we drove 15 minutes north to the small town of Newkirk and enjoyed great coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and scones at “Savvy Cactus” (Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar). (The coffee was good enough that I bought a bag of their coffee!)
“Savvy Cactus” Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar in Newkirk, Oklahoma.
The rest of the drive back to St. Louis was spent reflecting on the many experiences we’d just had and synthesizing the new knowledge while enjoying the landscape as it skirted the southern edge of the Flint Hills of Kansas and traversed the familiar hills and dales of our beloved Missouri Ozarks—the end of a 3,931-mile trip!
Fr. James Sullivan (left) and Ted MacRae (right) stand under a banyan tree in Key Largo, Florida, 9 May 1986 (photographer unknown).
In Spring 1986, the Rev. James Sullivan (Fr. Sullivan to those who knew him) and I made a two-week trip to Florida with the objective to explore as much of the state as we could—from the Panhandle to the Keys! My goal, of course, was to collect beetles2, especially woodboring beetles in the families Buprestidae and Cerambycidae (it was only my third trip outside of Missouri for such purpose), while Fr. Sullivan’s was to identify and document as many plant species as possible. This apparent dichotomy in interests was not as clean as it may seem—as an entomologist interested in host plant relationships, the chance to spend time in the field with as accomplished a botanist as Fr. Sullivan was too good to pass up, and Fr. Sullivan’s passion for studying insect associates of the plants he studied greatly aligned our interests. My memories of that trip have faced in the nearly 40 years since, jogged only by the specimens I collected now residing in my cabinet and two trays of 35 mm slides taken with an Olympus OM10 SLR film camera. Fortunately, Fr. Sullivan was more diligent than I in journaling his observations during that trip, a copy of which he gave to me. This report is an attempt to summarize our observations using these materials. In his journal, Fr. Sullivan made the following disclaimer: “Plant determinations in these notes must be regarded as tentative: We have not had the use of a complete flora for any portion of the State of Florida. We have been as precise as possible with the use of several less complete sources. ★This star symbol indicates plant determinations that were later confirmed by the use of the Flora of Tropical Florida or by other adequate keys.”
[Note: names for most of the plants included in this report were confirmed by Fr. Sullivan, the primary exceptions being those indicated with question marks (?). As a result, I have omitted use of the star symbol in this report. Also note that plant taxonomy has likely changed immensely during the past 39 years. Scientific names, common names, and plant families given are those we used at the time, and only in a few cases have they been harmonized with current nomenclature (my notes in [square brackets]). An asterisk (*) denotes plants and insects that were also photographed.]
We left St. Louis on the morning of April 28 with the goal of spending the night in Montgomery, Alabama. The next morning, true to form, Fr. Sullivan got up early to explore the area around the hotel before continuing the drive south. He noted two plants: Cirsium horridulum and Sapium sebiferum (Euphorbiaceae), the latter a fast-growing deciduous tree known as Chinese tallow and native to eastern Asia. All parts of the tree emit a milky white sap when damaged, which is toxic and can cause gastrointestinal upset if ingested. As we continued south, we noted the first Spanish moss (Tilandsia usneoides) draping the trees along Hwy 281. The growth was very well-developed, leading Fr. Sullivan to speculate that it also probably occurred north of Montgomery along I-65 but that we missed it due to our nighttime arrival.
Later in the day we arrived at our first destination, Torreya State Park in the Florida Panhandle, home of the extremely rare Florida nutmeg (Torreya taxifolia*) tree that grows only on the bluffs along the Apalachicola River. We explored the heavily forested hills and ravines of the area and found examples of this plant alongside the road near the entrance to the campground. However, we documented a diverse list of other plants including Acer barbatum [= A. saccharum ssp. floridanum] (Florida maple), Actaea pachypoda, Amorpha fruticosa, Aralia spinosa, Ascyrum sp., Callicarpa americana, Calycanthus floridus, Calycarpon lyoni, Cnidoscolus stimulosus*, Conopholis americana, Conradina canescens*(Lamiaceae), Croomia pauciflora* (Stemonaceae), Decumaria barbara, Dirca palustris, Erigeron strigosus, Erythrina herbacea*, Euonymus americanus*, Lonicera sempervirens*, Halesia sp., Hydrangea quercifolia*, Ilex opaca, Itea virginica*, Lygodium japonicum, Mitchella repens, Myrica serifera, Onoclea sensibilis*, Opuntia humifusa*, Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), Ruellia carolinensis*, Sebastiana fruticosa* (Sebastianbush, Euphorbiaceae), Spiranthes praecox*, Viburnum sp., and Wahlenbergia marginata. Insect collecting consisted primarily of an assortment of longhorned beetles attracted to ultraviolet (UV) lights at night.
After two nights at Torreya State Park, we traveled further down the peninsula along the central spine to Highlands Hammock State Park, one of the oldest state parks in Florida protecting 9,000 acres of old-growth cypress swamp and oak hammock. We first explored the Wild Orange Grove Trail (noting wild orange trees as well as our first alligator!) but moved to other areas of the park over the next two days. We noted the occurrence of three species of palms here: Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), which lacks the leaf midrib of and has fewer leaf divisions than Sabal palmetto (cabbage palm), the most common palm and distinguished by a strong leaf midrib, and Serenoa repens (saw palmetto) with its saw-toothed petiole edges. We repeatedly saw the tortoise beetle Hemisphaerota cyanea on the leaves of S. palmetto. A nice variety of longhorned beetles was also collected here, including the Florida endemic Typocerus flavocinctus and several lamiines at UV lights at night. A blister beetle (family Meloidae) similar to our Nemognatha nemorensis was common on the flowers of Aster reticulatus* and Pterocaulon pycnostachyum* (both Asteraceae), and on flowers of Cirsium horridulum we saw the leaf-footed bug Acanthocephala terminalis* (Coreidae). Other plants that Fr. Sullivan noted include Abrus precatorius*, Ardisia crenulata* (crenate berry bush, Myrsinaceae), Asimina pygmaea* (?), Bacopa sp.*, Bidens pilosa*, Callicarpa americana*, Cuthbertia graminea (?), Emilia sonchilfolius, Eriocaulon sp.*, Erythrina herbacea, Hypericum sp.*, Ilex cassine, Ilex glabra, Lachnocaulon anceps, Lygodesmia aphylla*, Lyonia lucida*, Mikania scandens, Oxalis violacea* (?), Persea borbonia, Polygala lutea*, Schrankia microphylla*, Tephrosia chrysophylla, Urena lobata, Utricularia sp.*, and Xyris sp.* Fr. Sullivan also noted in his journal a list of a dozen “rare” birds such (e.g., cardinal, catbird, crow, etc.!).
Our next destination was outside the northwestern limits of Everglades National Park at Collier-Seminole State Park, which lies partly within the great mangrove swamp of South Florida (one of the largest mangrove swamps in the world) and covering one of three original stands of royal palm (Roystonea elata [= Roystonea regia]) in Florida (the park was previously called Royal Palm Hammock). We primarily explored the Royal Palm Hammock Nature Trail and along the water’s edge around the boat basin, where Rhizophora mangle* (red mangrove) lined the edges of the salt marsh. Two species of Solanum were observed, primarily S. erianthum (potato tree) but also S. donianum*, and we noted the pleasant fragrance of a Eugenia sp. that escaped identification. Bursera simaruba (“tourist tree”), with its distinctive peeling bark, was also common here. We noted Baccharis halimifolia heavily infested with the leaf beetle Trirhabda bacharidus*, saw Heliconius charitonius butterflies on the wing, and observed a cluster of young seed bug nymphs* (Lygaeidae), likely one of the milkweed-associated species, on a vining species of milkweed. Deer flies (family Tabanidae) were a real problem for both of us, and we had to use head nets (Fr. Sullivan even resorted to wearing his London Fog jacket!). Other plants documented included Acrostichum sp., Alternanthera sp. poss. philoxeroides (Amaranthaceae), Batis maritima, Bidens pilosa var. radiata, Blechum brownei, Borrichia frutescens*(sea daisy), Commelina diffusa, Dicliptera assurgens*, Dicromena sp.* (white-bracted sedge, Cyperaceae), Eugenia sp.*, Ipomoea alba (moon flower), Ipomoea sagittata*, Passiflora pallens, Pithecellobium unguis-cati (cat claw), Pluchia odorata (camphor weed), Polygala grandiflora var. angustifolia, Psychotria undata*, Solidago sp.*, Triodanus sp., Urena lobata*, and Zanthoxylum fagara (lime prickly ash). Similar to previous localities, a diversity of longhorned beetles were attracted to UV lights at night.
After two days at Collier-Seminole, we drove east along the Tamiami Trail, noting the magnificent stands of bald cypress (Taxodium distichum) in the Big Cypress Swamp Preserve and seeing the first water hyacinths (Eichhornia crassipes) in bloom. We also saw Australian pines (several species in the genus Casuarina)—angiosperms rather than gymnosperms. Its needles are much longer than true pine (genus Pinus), and the trees appeared very dark green as seen from a distance. Eventually we landed at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park on Key Largo. Most people visit this park to dive and explore the spectacular living reefs of the Florida Keys; however, we had more terrestrial objectives. We began by exploring the coral limestone woodland along the Wild Tamarind Trail, where Metopium toxiferum*was common along the woodland border (and we took care not to touch!). A large ichneumonid wasp* (Ichneumonidae) was seen perched in the understory, and we noted the impressively oversized female of the spider Nephilia clavipes* being courted by an equally strikingly diminutive male. Lysiloma latisiliqua* was abundant in the woodland, as was Bursera simaruba* its bark red and peeling like a sunburned tourist! Coccoloba uvifera was also abundantly fruiting, and other plants seen include Alternanthera sp., Conocarpus erecta var. sericea, Schinus terebinthifolius*, and an unidentified composite (either Eupatorium villosum or Garberia sp.). Along the Mangrove Trail we saw (of course) not only red mangrove Rhizophora mangle*) but also black mangrove (Avicennia germinans*, Avicenniaceae) and white mangrove (Languncularia racemosa, Combretaceae). These three plants are placed in three unrelated families, yet all show a high degree of fidelity to mangrove ecosystems. At a Persea americana* orchard in the adjunct Shaw Property, we saw Hamelia patens* in bloom and Lysiloma latisiliqua growing around the orchard’s edge. Other plants seen in the area include Abutilon sp., Batis sp.*, Eupatorium villosum* (?), Gaillardia pulchella*, Heliotropium angiospermum, Heliotropium curassavicum, Hibiscus tiliaceus, Melanthera sp., and Rivina humilis*.
Our plan the following day was to continue down the length of the Keys, making stops at a few selected places along the way before spending the night in Key West. At our first stop on LowerMatecumbe Key, we noted Avicennia germinans, Eustoma exaltatum*, and Polygala baldwini (as well as a Great Blue Heron) and then continued southwestward to Long Key State Recreation Area [now Long Key State Park]. Most people visit Long Key for its beaches and fishing, but we came to the preserve to explore the endangered coastal dune ecosystem that it protects. Few insects were seen, but a number of interesting, mostly highly salt-tolerant, plant species were seen. These include Abutilon sp., Argemone mexicana*, Cassasia clusiifolia*, Chrysobalanus icaco, Ipomoea pes-caprae, Lantana involucrate, Manilkara bahamensis* (wild dilly, Sapotaceae), Scaevola plumieri* (inkberry, Goodeniaceae), Solanum diphyllum, and Suriana maritima* (bay cedar). We finished the day at Key Deer Preserve on Big Pine Key, a sanctuary for the smallest subspecies of white-tailed deer in North America. We did not see any deer, but we did see some interesting plants. Byrsonima cuneata* (Malphigiaceae) was common here, as was Croton linearis. Along the Nature Trail we saw the orchid Bletia purpurea* (pale pink) and also recorded Aletris sp., Chrysophyllum oliviforme (Sapotaceae), Dichromena sp., Ernodia littoralis*, Metopium toxiferum, Pithecellobium sp., Polygala verticillate (?), and “thatch palms” (plus a hissing alligator!).
The next two days were spent at Everglades National Park, where we began our visit by exploring the Long Pine Key Nature Trail, where Cladium jamaicensis* (sawgrass) and Taxodium distichum* dominated the landscape. We noted that it was easy to pass one’s fingers over the sawgrass blade edge in one direction, but not so easy in the other! It was here that I found what I considered a real prize—my first ever bumelia borer (Plinthocoelium suavelons)! I also collected the very colorful Trichodes apivorus on the flowers of Sabal palmetto. Fr. Sullivan had even more success with the plants—so much, in fact, that we were only able to explore the east end of the trail. Several plants belonging to largely tropical plant familys were seen, including Dodonaea viscosa (varnish leaf, Sapindaceae), Tatrazygia bicolor* (Melastomataceae), and Dipholis salicifolia (willow bustic, Sapotaceae). Polygala balduinii (or a similar species) and an unidentified Buchnera sp. were common. The recorded list of other plant species seen was diverse: Asclepias lanceolata*, Baccharis sp., Byrsonima cuneata, Calopogon sp.* [likely C. tuberosus var. simpsonii], Croton linearis, Dichromena sp., Heliotropium polyphyllum var, polyphyllum (H. leavenworthii ) (Boraginaceae), Jacquemontia jamaicensis, Lobelia glandulosa*, Melanthera angustifolia (Asteraceae), Myrica cerifera, Myrsine guianensis, Passiflora sp.*, Persea bordonia, Piriqueta caroliniana, Psychotria nervosa, Rhus sp., Sabatia sp. poss. brevifolia*, and Stillingia sylvatica ssp. tenuis (Euphorbiaceae). We returned again to Long Pine Key Nature Trail the following day to explore the west end near Pine Glades Lake, finding many of the same plants recorded the previous day but also Ageratum littorale (?), Bletia purpurea, Justicia ovata var. lanceolata*, Lippia stoechadifolia, and Morinda royoc. From there we moved on to the P.K. Nature Trail, where Cynanchum blodgettii was seen twining over much of the vegetation—including other plants of its own species!. Fr. Sullivan spent a good deal of time studying a plant found growing at the edge of Pine Glades Lake, which he presumed to be a species of Lippia that exhibited pleated leaves with matching teeth (leading him to call it “corduroy lippia” or “pleated lippia”). Eventually he settled (and later confirmed) the species as Lippia stoechadifolia, a Neotropical species limited in the U.S. to south Florida and the Keys. Other plants observed included Angadenia berterii, Urechites lutea, and (my favorite) Zamia floridana* [likely Z. integrifolia var. silvicola].
Back at Key Largo near Tarpon Bay (below our motel), Fr. Sullivan continued exploring the plants, especially the mangroves. He noted that Avicennia has “dewdrops” but that the other mangroves do not. This relates to the processes used by the plant to eliminate excess salt, which in Avicennia involves salt water “perspiration” that dries in the heat of the day (indeed, the residue of salt flecks is useful in distinguishing Avicennia from the other mangroves) but in Rhizophora is done by accumulating salt in the oldest leaves before they turn yellow and drop. He also noted that Avicennia and Rhizophora can be distinguished by color; Avicennia, which normally grow a little farther from the water, are closer to gray-green, while Rhizophora are closer to yellow-green. Tridax procumbens was a common roadside weed around the motel—its flowers and fluffy seedheads rise on long scapes, as if leafless, but are actually attached to the sprawling, hairy stems, which bear many deeply cleft leaves with opposite arrangement. He also noted Morinda royoc growing not only in the woods but also hedgerows. It is like Psychotria [both species are in the Rubiaceae], but without the large, nervy leaves. The fruits aggregate to look like large, yellowish mulberries. Hamelia patens grows right along the highway here, and several large Solanum shrubs with stellate trichomes on the leaves and white flowers were seen that may be a complex of species including S. donianum, S. verbascifolium, S. erianthum, or yet another species.
On May 10, the field visits were over, and it would take two days of driving to return to St. Louis. Even beginning the drive home, however, did not stop Fr. Sullivan from botanizing. During a stop at the drawbridge on Hwy 1 between Key Largo and the mainland, Fr. Sullivan collected Stachytarpheta jamaicensis, its flower tubes emerging from upward pointing, elongate triangular bracts, and its leaves being coarsely dentate. Also, from the highway in northern Florida, we saw what appeared to be the frequent occurrence of blooming Asimina. These were low plants with white flowers and leaves present. Spending several days in south Florida also gave Fr. Sullivan a chance to contemplate the different hammock habitats that we had visited, and he noted the following: “A hammock is basically a hardwood forest. A hammock in Florida has a significance parallel to that of a glade in Missouri: it is a relief from the ordinary situation. In the Everglades hammocks take the form of “hillocks”: The forest seems to build itself above the level of the sawgrass wetlands. In Highlands County, on the other hand, the hammocks occupy depressions in the topography. It is natural for the pinelands to burn with some degree of regularity, but the wet depressions are protected from most fires. Fire actually helps Pinus to have a competitive edge (since the needles make good tinder and the resin burns so hot, the pines contribute to their own survival situation), but in the wet depressions the broadleaf hardwoods are able to take over. The State Parks often feature the hammocks. As we go farther south, the hardwood species become more tropical. We have seen a lot of Bursera simaruba, a hammock feature, but have yet to see Ceratiola ericoides, which is more a representative of the norm for this state. Visiting Mahogany Hammock in the Everglades we learn that it is protected from sawgrass fires by a natural moat surrounding it. The moat results as limestone strata are eaten away by the hardwood-produced acids.”
1 Deceased April 15, 2025.
2 Permits for collecting beetles were obtained from the Florida Department of Agriculture and the National Park Service.
Welcome to the 17th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the first of two planned insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring during June 4–13. This was another solo trip, and while it was not as long as I’d hoped, I still managed to visit 15 different localities—one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada.
I left Kansas City in the morning with two goals: 1) look for Acmaeodera robigo (family Buprestidae) in Texas Co., Oklahoma (based on a 2011 observation posted to BugGuide), and 2) make it to Black Mesa State Park in the far northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle before sunset (to avoid having to set up camp in the dark). It was a long day of driving (mostly through heavy rain), but by the time I arrived at the A. robigo locality, skies were clear and the area was dry. Texas Co. is the largest (and seemingly flattest!) of the three Oklahoma panhandle counties, but I have not collected in the county previously because most of it has been converted to cultivated wheat. This particular location, however, lies within the Beaver River drainage and, thus, features native shortgrass prairie vegetation.
Beaver River drainage where Acmaeodera robigo was observed in 2011.
The host plant mentioned in the A. robigo observation, Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy—family Asteraceae), was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, so I checked the flowers carefully up one side of the highway and down the other side.
Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy).
Nothing was seen on the flowers, but given the lateness of the hour and cool temps I did not expect to see anything. Still, I set three white bottle traps in the area within patches of M. leucanthemum and will plan on retrieving them up later this season. With luck, the traps will have attracted adults if the species as they visit the nearby flowers.
Bottle trap, antifreeze, and a spade are all that is needed to trap flower-visiting insects.
Moving west I quickly entered Cimarron Co.—I always enjoy seeing this double-line of utility poles stretching to a seemingly endless horizon at the border between Texas and Cimmaron Counties. The latter is not only the westernmost county in the state, it is also the only county in the U.S. that borders four other states (Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, and Kansas).
Entering Cimmaron Co., the westernmost county in Oklahoma.
I made it to Black Mesa State Park with plenty of daylight left to set up camp. Per usual, after getting camp setup I enjoyed “refreshments” and waited for nightfall to walk the roads looking for nocturnal beetles (or any other critters that might be out and about). I did see an Eleodes sp. (darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) early in, but the night was chilly, and the onset of light drizzle put an end to the walk.
Ready for bed!
This would not be the end of my nighttime hiking, however—at 3am I was awakened by the drone of a motor, and it was loud enough that sleep would be impossible. Thinking it was an inconsiderate camper down at the RV campground, I decided to investigate and discovered it was a water pump within the campground. I decided if I couldn’t sleep, then somebody else would also have to be awakened, namely the campground host. It took the elderly woman a few minutes to come to the door after I rapped a few times on her RV, and I apologized for waking her before explaining the situation. She said she wouldn’t know anything about how to turn it off, to which I replied that I didn’t expect her to know that but I’ll bet somebody does and maybe she could make a call and figure out who that is or this wouldn’t be the last time somebody wakes her at 3am. I figured that would be the last of it, that I’d be awake until morning, and that I would have another nine hours of driving the next day on only three hours of sleep. But, to my relief, about a half hour later a park maintenance vehicle pulled up to the pump house, and a young man turned the motor off (I thanked him profusely). I did eventually get back to sleep and awoke to birdsong and clearing skies.
Day 2
There is a low water bridge at the south entrance to the park that crosses a normally dry creek. However, this time the creek was filled with water with lush growth of sedges and grasses along the water’s edge. This is a perfect situation for Taphrocerus species (family Buprestidae), and at this literal transition point from the eastern to the western fauna I’m not sure what species I might encounter there. Unfortunately, thorough sweeping of the sedges produced no beetles, so the question will for now remain unanswered.
Creek at south entrance to Black Mesa State Park, Oklahoma.
Heading south and then west from the park takes you shortly into the northeastern reaches of New Mexico and the town of Clayton. Whenever I pass through Clayton I like to stop at Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill for a bag of freshly ground coffee.
Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill, Clayton, New Mexico.
Skimming across the northern reaches of New Mexico for the next several hours was uneventful with no indication of a repeat of the heavy rain that pounded me for much of my drive yesterday across Kansas and Oklahoma. The situation changed, however, as I crossed the Continental Divide on the approach to Farmington.
I think I’m going to get wet.
I’m sure I’m going to get wet.
Sure enough, I once again had the pleasure of driving through driving rain. In addition, I arrived at my next planned spot just north of town (Brown Springs Campground) to find the entrance and main road under several inches of water. No point in trying to collect there, so I continued on towards the next stop (Devils Canyon Campground) in southeast Utah (San Juan Co.) in hopes of arriving early enough to set up camp before dark. Things looked promising as I crossed through the southwestern corner of Colorado towards Monticello, Utah, as patchy clouds filled a sun-filled sky.
Near Dove Creek, Colorado.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
By the time I reached the campground, however, the rain had returned—not hard, but steady. I didn’t relish the thought of setting up camp in the rain and did something I almost never do—heading back into town and spending the night in a motel! At least I was able to enjoy a burger cooked by someone else for a change.
Day 3
Day 3 started off gray and overcast with the threat of more rain, but looking at radar and the areas I was going further west had me optimistic that I would get out of the rain once and for all. My ultimate stop for the day would be Jacob Lake Campground in north-central Arizona (Cocconino Co.), and my plan was to stop at a number of places along the way. Devils Canyon Campground itself, however, was still under clouds, meaning that collecting there would likely not be very productive. Nevertheless, despite last night’s rainout and the continuing cool, wet conditions, I decided to place some traps that I could pick up later in the season and, thus, get at least a sample of the area’s beetle fauna.
Devils Canyon Campground, Utah.
The campground lies at ~7000 ft, and I found a ridge with ponderosa pine/gamble oak forest on the slope to one side and pinyon/juniper/oak woodland on the crest of the ridge to the other. On the ponderosa side I set a white bottle trap, and on the pinyon/juniper side I set a sweet red wine-baited jug trap. There wasn’t much in bloom at the time other than a few yellow composites and the occasional Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose—family Onagraceae) with blossoms still wide open despite the daylight hour due to the overcast, cool conditions.
Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose).
Coming down off the plateau towards Bluff, Utah, thick low clouds gave way to higher broken clouds with warmer temps (mid-60s). I stopped a few miles west of town at a location where Mont Cazier once collected what was later described as Agrilus utahensis (family Buprestidae) and began sweeping roadside vegetation. While I was sweeping, I encountered three Amannus vittiger (family Cerambycidae) on the flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow—family Malvaceae) (along with a few meloids and bees for others). The record of A. utahensis was from quite a bit later in the season (late July), so I didn’t really expect to find it (although I was hopeful). However, I did sweep what appears to be Agrilus malvastri.
Amannus vittiger collected on flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
A short distance west of the stop had me entering northeastern Arizona, and traveling west of Dennehotso on Hwy 160 I encountered patchy, low lying clouds though which beams of bright sunlight lit up the red rocks below and cast a reddish hue on the bottoms of the clouds.
West of Dennehotso, Arizona on Hwy 160.
A bit further west on Hwy 160 is a formation apparently known as “Baby Rocks.”
Baby Rocks, west of Dennehotso, Arizona,
As I drove, I kept my eye out for areas along the highway with stands of plants in bloom, and I found just such at a roadcut on Hwy 98 near mm 325 as I approached Page, Arizona (Cocconino Co.). There was a fair amount of Sphaeralcea coccinea in bloom, off which I collected a handful of Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata and one Amannus vittiger from the flowers. I swept the grasses and other roadside vegetation thoroughly, but that produced nothing. I returned my attention to the Sphaeralcea and swept it thoroughly as well to be sure I didn’t miss anything. Good thin I did, as that turned up one more each of A. p. lanata and A. vittiger as well as a few Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata on flower of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
After passing through Page, Arizona, rather than continuing straight west to Jacob Lake Campground, I veered north into Kane Co., Utah to revisit a locality I’d visited a couple of years ago about 23 mi northwest of Page on Hwy 89. The last time I stopped here (late June 2023), I found a few Nanularia brunneata (family Buprestidae) on the stems of Eriogonum inflatum (desert trumpet—family Polygonaceae). That visit was about three weeks later in the season than this time, and not only was the area dry (despite all the rain east of here), but there was very little new growth on any of the E. inflatum plants—just the dried stalks of last year’s growth. Still, there was fresh growth present at the spot, in the form of Ericameria nauseosa (gray rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae), on which I collected a single cryptocephaline leaf beetle, and along the roadside rain shadow in the form of Sphaeralcea parvifolia (small-leaved globemallow), on the flowers of which I collected several more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri. Eventually, I did find a single E. inflatum plant with small sprouts of new growth on which I found several clytrine leaf beetles. Sweeping the S. parvifolia produced one more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, a single Acmaeodera navajoi—a species I collected here abundantly two years earlier, and a series of a very small chrysomelid leaf beetle species that I observed feeding on the foliage.
Once I got a bit further west, the landscape turned green again, indicating recent rains, so I checked iNaturalist for nearby records of E. inflatum that I could check for N. brunnea. There was one a few miles east of Kanab (Kane Co.) and on the way to Jacob Lake Campground, so I stopped by to see if I could find the plants. Unfortunately, the record turned out to be on private property, so I couldn’t go to the precise location. I looked around the area outside the property but didn’t see any plants; however, S. parviflora was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, and sweeping it produced a few more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri and a couple of small bees (for Mike).
11 mi E of Kanab, Utah.
There were also several blooming Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear—family Cactaceae), which I checked for Acmaeodera, but I found only one large bee (again, for Mike). With the sun by then dropping close to the horizon, I called it a day and headed for the campground.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—pink-flowered form.
I arrived at Jacob Lake Campground (Cocconino Co., Arizona) and got camp setup before dark, which settled in as I was cooking dinner. It was chilly at this relatively high elevation (7900 ft)—temps were already in the mid-50s and were forecast to drop down into the 40s by morning. Despite the chill, I found a Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) and a smaller tenebrionid on a cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Zopherus uteanus on cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Later, I walked the site—not really expecting to see much because of the chill, but I did find three Iphthiminus lewisii (family Tenebrionidae) on the trunk of a recently fallen P. ponderosa and saw two more on a pine stump.
Iphthiminus lewisii on trunk of recently fallen Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
With three days of travel—the first two mostly rainy and today dry but still quite cool, I’m hoping the forecasted warmer, sunnier conditions for tomorrow and onward come true and I can get this collecting trip in high gear.
A waxing gibbous moon illuminates my camp at 7900’ in Jacob Lake Campground, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Day 4
After morning coffee (and moving to a different campsite—long story!), I went back north a bit to the area near Lefevre Overlook that had been only lightly impacted by the widespread burns that occurred here a few years ago and is showing signs of recovery. It felt “early season” with patchy clouds, moderate temps in the low of mid 70s, and plenty of moisture in the soil with lots of plants in bloom. Insects were not abundant, but with continued beating I collected a couple of Anthaxia sp. (family Buprestidae) and a variety of small clytrines, cryptocepahlines, and curculionids off of Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose—family Rosaceae) in flower.
Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose).
As the morning warmed, insects seemed to become a bit more active, although the day continued to feel “early season.” Persistent visual searches and beating of a variety of plants turned up a few small black/yellow Pidonia? (family Cerambycidae), one Acmaeodera diffusa?, and one Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fine-leaved hymenopappus—family Asteraceae); one Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, another Pidonia?, and one A. diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua (desert globemallow); several small clytrine and cryptocephaline leaf beetles and curculionid weevils on Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak—family Fagaceae); and several A. diffusa? and a few Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Tetraneuris acaulis (four-nerve daisy—family Asteraceae). Sweeping through the area where the T. acaulis was growing produced nothing further of interest, so I placed a sweet red wine-baited jug trap and a yellow bottle trap in the area—hopefully they will each attract a variety of interesting beetles over the next few months.
Sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in a tree and a yellow bottle trap sunk into the ground below.
A bit further down, the mountain escaped the fire that ravaged many other parts of the mountain. I expected to see much more insect activity, but the opposite instead was the case. This may be related to the lower incidence and diversity of flowering plants, which were likely triggered at the previous spot by the fire. I did find a small area where Sphaeralcea ambigua was blooming abundantly and sweeping through them produced a fine series of Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri along with a few bees (for Mike). I walked up the slope a ways, but there was virtually nothing in bloom—unlike what I had seen at the previous spot. Eventually, I did find a few Hymenopappus filifolia and Tetraneuris acaulis, but the only I beetle I saw on any of them was a single Acmaeodera diffusa? on the latter.
Escobaria vivipara (viviparous foxtail cactus).
Without anything luring me further up the slope, I worked my way back down towards the car and was about ready to call it a day when I decided to take a gander a bit down the slope—just in case I might see something of interest. Nothing captured my attention, however, so I worked my way over a bit to take a different route back. That’s when I saw it! All day long I had been keeping my eye out for large Utah junipers (Juniperus osteosperma—family Cupressaceae) with thigh-sized main limbs—one of which was dying (not dead), possibly a result of woodboring beetles, and before me was just such a tree!
Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) with dying main limb.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
Large oval emergence hole caused by a species of longhorned beetle.
Fresh frass packed in the galleries by longhorned beetle larvae.
I hiked back to the car to get my chainsaw—brought along on the trip just for such an eventuality—and cut a portion of the infested limb out of the tree so I could bring it home and attempt to rear out the adults. My hope is that the species infesting the tree is Semanotus juniperi (family Cerambycidae), a very uncommonly encountered longhorned beetle that breeds in the large limbs of juniper in this area, so I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed. Hauling out the infested bolt along with the chainsaw was a struggle, but eventually I made it back to the car and celebrated a successful last act to what had up to that point been a not too spectacular first full day in the field.
Bolt of Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) infested with longhorned beetles.
I needed a break after working the chainsaw and hauling out the wood, so I went back to the campsite to enjoy an end-of-the-day “beverage” and eventually dinner. However, part of me was thinking Inshould have collected more of that infested juniper to increase my odds of successfully rearing whatever was infesting it, so I resolved to do exactly that in the morning.
Dinner on the grill at Jacob Lake Campground.
Before dinner as I was gathering kindling, I had noticed a large, fallen ponderosa pine behind the campsite and returned after dark to see if there might be any nocturnal beetles attracted to it. It seemed recently dead, but as I inspected the upper branches more closely I saw that it had been dead long enough that whatever would have been attracted to it had already come and gone. I thought maybe I could find beetles under the bark and began peeling the bark in the trunk. The bark was still intact but was just loose enough that I could peel it off in large sheets. Doing so, however, revealed only a couple of click beetles (family Elateridae). I didn’t see any other fallen or dead trees in the area, but on the trunks of large living ponderosa pines I found a tenebrionoid and several individuals of a Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle (family Boridae). [Edit: thanks to Alex Harmen for the identification on this one!] Nearby was a cut stump of a very large ponderosa pine, and peeling back the thick bark at the base of the stump revealed yet another elaterid species and two darkling beetles. I was hoping to find more Zopherus uteanus, but no such luck!
Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 5
After a morning of the coffee ritual and observing campsite wildlife, I made an ice run at the nearby service station.
I was having second thoughts about taking only a single bolt of wood from cerambycid-infested Utah juniper that I found at the end of yesterday’s collecting and decided to go back to get more of the infested wood to improve the likelihood of successfully rearing adults from the wood. It would not be an easy job—I’d have to haul the chainsaw down the the tree, cut off the two remaining infested bolts, cut the bolts down to cartable pieces, and then haul the chainsaw and wood bolts back to the car, likely requiring several trips. It was worth it, however, because as I was stripping bark to see where I needed to make the initial cut, I encountered an intact cadaver of one of the beetles that had died while trying to emerge from the wood. I carefully extracted the abdomen from the tree and found the head and pronotum in the bark and placed them in a vial, and they without a doubt represent the species I was hoping they were—Semanotus juniperi, a super rare species that very few people have ever collected [tip of the hat to Ron Alten for sharing his knowledge about this beetle with me and enabling me to find this beetle for myself!]. I’ll be able to put the beetle back together when I get home, and I’m hopeful I’ll rear at least a small series of beetles from the wood I’ve collected.
I love the smell of chainsaw in the morning!
Having carted the additional bolts of wood back to the car and confident in my ability to recognize the work of this species, I looked for—and found—a few more trees that the beetle had infested. However, in each case the workings were old and no beetles were encountered chopping into the wood. I also spent some time looking for much smaller emergence holes in the thick trunk bark of several junipers and carefully shaving the bark to see if I could find another rare longhorned beetle species, Atimia vandykei. I found several galleries that might have been this species, but no beetles or larvae were encountered, leading me to think I might have been a bit late and the adults have mostly emerged. A large, recently dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) also caught my attention, as it looked fresh enough to still contain wood boring beetles that might have infested it. The wood was very hard and difficult to chop into, but I didn’t encounter any larvae of any kind and elected not to collect a bolt or two for rearing. Lastly, I spent some time looking for dead Gambel oaks, which in this area could host Xylotrechus rainei (family Cerambycidae), a recently described species that few have collected. I found several dead stems of the shrubby oak species that contained workings consistent with those of Xylotrechus, but in each case the workings were old and no beetles or larvae were present. This string of “failures” might have seemed like the makings of a bad day, but the success with S. juniperi overshadowed those failures and I left the site happy (though exhausted!).
The author sports his new field hat (an early Fathers Day gift!).
I returned to the first stop of yesterday to see if I could find junipers in this area infested with S. juniperi, reasoning that since the area had burned a few years ago some of the still-living trees might be stressed, thus making them more vulnerable to infestation. I also wanted to see if the bottle and jug traps I placed yesterday had caught anything of interest (even though it had only been one day). Along the way I picked up a single Anthaxia sp. on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis and a few Acmaeodera diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua. There wasn’t anything of interest in either trap, so I set about looking for infested junipers. I found only one, but again the workings were old and no larvae or adults were encountered. I also examined a few dead stems of Gambel oak, but none showed signs of infestation. (I suspect they had been killed by the fire and the damage to the wood by the fire made the stems unsuitable for infestation.) I did, however, find a small more recently dead Colorado pinyon pine that showed signs of recent infestation all along the trunk and collected it for rearing. By then, the day had warmed considerably and I was already exhausted from the morning’s chainsaw session, leading to a loss of motivation to keep looking. I needed a change of pace and decided to head higher up the mountain back into the ponderosa pine forest for some more “traditional” woodboring beetle collecting.
Callophrys gryneus (juniper hairstreak) on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia (fine-leaved hymenopappus).
The forest at this site is dominated by ponderosa pine, and the strategy here was straightforward—look for large, dead or dying trees, either standing or recently wind-thrown, and inspect the examine the trunks for woodboring beetles. I came to this spot two years ago in early July, so this time was about four weeks earlier in the season. I had two specific targets (beyond woodboring beetles in general)—Chalcophora (family Buprestidae) and Monochamus (family Cerambycidae). Both of these genera are the subject of molecular studies being conducted by other researchers that I know, and I’ve been promising to send them fresh specimens killed and preserved in ethanol. The first wind-thrown tree I encountered was still green-needled, and I expected to find buprestid beetles all over it. Instead, all I saw were a few small Enoclerus sp. (family Cleridae). Large dead standing trees dotted the open forest, and I carefully approached and circled each one looking for beetles, paying special attention to those in full sunlight. Time after time, however, I was frustrated. Each time, I chopped into the wood a bit to examine what was going on underneath the bark, and while workings were plentiful I never encountered any larvae.
4.2 mi N Jacob Lake on Hwy 89A, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Finally, I approached a large standing dead tree, and perched on its trunk in the sunlight was Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer). I’m happy to give this specimen up for DNA sequencing, especially since I already collected a specimen at this same spot two years ago (before the molecular study began).
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
I peeled a good portion of bark of the tree it was perched on but found nothing except a large elaterid larva (I wonder if it was Alaus melanops [western eyed elater], a predator or woodboring beetle larvae).
Alaus melanops (western eyed elater) collected from under bark of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
For a long time afterwards that would remain the only beetle I encountered until I found a large standing tree in the early stages of death (needles pale green but not brown) with a female Dicerca tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) searching the trunk, occasionally stopping to probe a crack or crevice with her ovipositor. Patiently waiting at the trunk rewarded me with a second individual within a short period of time.
Dicerca tenebrosa on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Another long period of nothingness ensued as I zigzagged from dead tree to dead tree, eventually retracing my steps to the only two trees on which I had found buprestids. Even that failed to produce additional beetles, but as I was standing at one of them I heard a woodpecker persistently pecking and searching and pecking on a nearby tree. The tree looked perfectly healthy at first glance, but I figured the woodpecker had to know something that I didn’t (I’m always willing to learn from locals!) and walked over to the tree. It was immense, and a closer look at the crown revealed a few browning needles scattered throughout the crown. Then a closer look at the trunk revealed several of the same small Enoclerus sp. I saw earlier crawling on it. Woodpeckers and checkered beetles don’t lie, and this tree was clearly under stress and under attack by woodboring beetles. An initial circling of the trunk revealed no other beetles, but then I noticed the gangly antennae and legs of a male/female pair of Monochamus clamator, the male apparently mate-guarding the female. I’ll be happy to contribute one of these specimens to my colleague for DNA sequencing and keep the other for my collection.
Monochamus clamator on trunk of stressed Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
By that time, the sun was starting to get rather low in the horizon and I was utterly exhausted after a full day of walking, chopping, chainsawing, and hauling. I passed by the two previously successful trees on the way back to the car, to no avail, and headed back to camp (stopping at the nearby market for a celebratory milkshake before going into the campground).
Caenochrysis sp. (family Chrysididae) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Day 6
The day’s plan was to head north to the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes system in southern Utah, but before I left I decided to go down the east slope of the Kaibab Plateau a bit to see it I could find a good transition zone (one that hadn’t burned) from the higher elevation ponderosa pine forest to the juniper/pinyon woodland just below. A few miles east of Jacob Lake, right as I hit 7000’ (there was even a sign to that effect) while descending into the canyon, I saw a small pulloff with ponderosa pine forest (and even some fir) on the east-facing slope to the right and juniper/pinyon/oak woodland on the west-facing slope to the left—perfect! It struck me as a good-looking spot to set some traps, so I set a blue bottle trap in an open area on the juniper/pinyon/oak side of the highway and hid a sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the woodland right above it. I then started beating the patches of Gamble oak hoping for Brachys (family Buprestidae) but finding only a single Anthaxia sp. and several species of clytrine leaf beetles and curculionid weevils. There was a patch of Sphaeralcea ambigua in flower near the pulloff, off which I collected several Acmaeodera diffusa? plus another of those small black /yellow lepturines (Pidonia? sp.) that I found yesterday, and I swept some chunky black dermestids and a couple of bees (for Mike) from the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia. Next came a long period of nothingness! I found another Utah juniper with damage on the main trunk by Semanotus juniperi, but once again it was old with no larvae or adults encountered after another exhausting chopping session. At this point, I turned my attention to the ponderosa pine forest across the highway, as I’d noticed some large dying/dead trees here and there that I wanted to check for buprestids. Despite checking every dead or declining pine within eyeshot, I didn’t find a single beetle! This, combined with the earlier fruitless chopping session, sapped my motivation, and I started heading back towards the car. Only a few A. diffusa? on the flowers of Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea and Heterotheca hirsutissima (harsh false goldenaster—family Asteraceae) momentarily captured my attention on the way back.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—yellow-flowered form.
As I neared the car, I saw a nicely blooming Purshia stansburyana and beat a nice series of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi from it. I’m not sure if the population in this area is assignable to any of the currently recognized subspecies, so I’ll be interested to study them closer and compare them to other unassignable populations I’ve found in other parts of Utah and Arizona. Right before I reached the car, I saw another juniper that begged “chop me.” I complied and then hated myself for it, as the result was the same as all the other junipers I’ve chopped into since finding that first one with Semanotus juniperi in it. With that, I said goodbye to the Kaibab Plateau and headed north towards Ponderosa Grove Campground near Coral Pink Sand Dunes north of Kanab, Utah.
Clytrine leaf beetle on flower of Purshia stansburyana (Stansbury’s cliffrose).
I reached the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes (Kane Co., Utah) by mid-afternoon. My favorite campground in that area is Ponderosa Grove Campground—it’s large, spacious campsites are not only well shaded by the namesake, unique-for-the-area grove of massive ponderosa pines, but it is also located right across the road from Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area, a BLM-managed area with easy access to the northern portion of the Coral Pink Sand Dunes system (for those who may be asking, this portion of the dune system lies outside the boundaries of Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, which protects the only known habitat of the highly vulnerable Coral Pink Sand Dunes tiger beetle, Cicindela albissima).
After picking a campsite (I was glad to see only a few sites occupied) and unloading my gear, I hightailed it to the dunes with one objective—find Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae). I collected this species before on my previous trip here back in late June of 2023, but I spent a day and a half looking for it and managed to only a small handful of specimens. I thought the earlier timing might be better, but Norm Woodley was here a couple of weeks before and did not see the species, giving me reason to be also skeptical.
Looking across the dunes at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
On the way to the dunes, I set out a yellow bottle trap and sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the sandy juniper/pine woodland bordering the dune. Upon entering the dunes, I immediately started seeing the host plant, Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat—family Polygonaceae), a distinctive plant with a basal rosette of linear leaves and, on some plants, a tall stem bearing the inflorescence. One plant in particular, right at the dune entrance, spoke to me saying “look at me.” I don’t know why, but I went over to it, tapped the basal rosette over my net, and off fell a nice large female C. nelsoni! Well, that was fast. I looked at a couple more plants and saw on a second adult (this one a smaller male) sitting head down at the base of the inflorescence stem—two specimens on the first three plants I looked at!
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on stem base of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
I found quite a few more (although not quite at that same frequency) over the next hour or so before they seemingly just disappeared. I noted the lateness of the hour and wondered if they have a ‘bedtime’—perhaps they burrow into the sand around the base of the plants for the night—and started back towards camp, picking up a few Eleodes caudifera lumbering across the surface of the sand along the way. I decided at that point, now that I had a nice series of the beetle, to bring the “big camera” over the next morning and try to get much nicer photos of the beetles on their host plant that what I can achieve with this iPhone.
Eleodes caudifera lumbers across the sand.
It had been a long day by that point—I was both famished and exhausted and needed a bit of time to rest and refuel. I had brought two salmon filets along with me, which should have been enough for two meals, but I was so ravenously hungry that I cooked and ate both.
Chill time at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
The rest and food gave me a bit of a spark, and as sunset approached I was inspired to set up the blacklights. Conditions were not close to ideal—a waxing gibbous, nearly full moon along with cool(ish) temperatures are usually enough to kill blacklighting. However, it was warmer than the past several nights at Jacob Lake (1300 ft higher elevation), so I compromised by setting up only the two ultraviolet lights (which I can run right off the car batter) but not the mercury-vapor lamp (which would have required hauling out and running the generator).
Not long after I turned the lights on, I noticed the bright, unmistakable glow of a mercury-vapor lamp at the far other end of the campground. I was like “That has to be an entomologist!” so hiked on down to introduce myself. As I entered the campsite, a man approached me and said “Hello, Ted.” Now I’m thinking okay we’ve met before, but I’m a dummy with poor social skills because I don’t recognize him. He said “My name is Mike.” The omission of his last name had me doubly thinking that I was an idiot because the mention of his name still wasn’t enough to trigger my memory of his last name or who he even was. When I asked him his last name, he said Rashko. I recognized that name instantly—he is the person who discovered Acmaeodera rashkoi, recently described by Rick Westcott and one of the species I had targeted on this trip. I told him of my plan and asked him how he knew who I was. It turns out he is a longtime follower of this blog and had seen my license plate (MOBUGS) earlier in the day. He was traveling from his home in Oregon to Flagstaff to meet his family and stopped here to spend the night and see what he could collect. We had a wonderful time chatting about the art of collecting and about colleagues we know (especially Rick, whose ears were burning I’m sure). I showed him the nice series of C. nelsoni that I’d gotten earlier in the day and told him we could go back in the morning before he left so that he could get some. We got so involved talking that we forgot to even look at his sheet to see what insects had come in until a Polyphylla uteanus (Coral Pink Dunes June beetle—family Scarabaeidae) smacked into his head and bumbled its way over to the sheet (Mike let me keep it). A large female Monochamus clamator also landed on the sheet (which Mike kept).
Eventually we said our goodbyes, and I wandered back to my campsite where I was mildly optimistic that my ultraviolet lights had brought in something. Sadly, there were no beetles of interest, but there was a stunning Hyalophora gloveri (Glover’s silk moth—family Saturniidae) and eventually two small white sphingid moths—all of which I kept for Rich Thoma back home. Success for me that night, however, was not yet out of sight. I made a round to inspect the massive trunks of the ponderosa pines dotting the campground and was rewarded with a nice little series of Zopherus uteanus.
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
I also found a few of the weirdly explanate Embaphion glabrum (family Tenebrionidae) crawling on the ground beneath the trees. A second round to look at the trees yielded no additional beetles, however, so I turned the lights off and turned in.
The “Big Dipper” prominently graces the western sky during the wee morning hours.
Day 8
Just as I had promised the night before, I wandered down to Mike’s campsite in the morning to see if he wanted to look for Chrysobothris nelsoni. He was already out looking for “beetles in the bush” around his campsite, and together we worked our way over to the dunes. It didn’t take long for me to see one of the beetles in its host plant, which I pointed out to Mike so he could see it and try to catch it himself. That beetle got away, but almost immediately he saw another one on a neighboring plant and succeeded in capturing it. We saw several more, but unlike the previous evening they were faster and more difficult to catch with the rising late-morning temps. Mike caught a couple more (and I one for the record) but had to leave, so we exchanged contact info and said our goodbyes.
Morning on the dunes.
The author (left) with Mike Raschko (right).
Back at the campsite, I looked around a bit to see what else I might collect. There was a nice diversity of plants in bloom, many which could be expected to be visited by buprestid beetles—Sphaeralcea parviflora (small-leaf globemallow), Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus), Hymenopappus filifolia, etc., but no beetles were seen. There were clumps of Gamble oak and Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry—family Rosaceae), but beating them produced nothing. The only thing I found was a recently windthrown branch of Utah juniper, which, when I stripped back some of the bark, proved to be in the early stages of infestation by longhorned beetles, probably a Callidium sp. The lack of insect activity (except for C. nelsoni) presented a quandary—should I stay another night (as planned), or should I pack up and head to my next destination (either Leeds Canyon, Utah or Kyle Canyon, Nevada)? I decided it was already too late in the day to head somewhere else—by the time I got there it would be late in the day, and I didn’t relish the idea of searching for an available campsite late with no reservation at such a late hour. I decided I might as well stay put and make the best of it—which I could do by going back over to the dunes and look for more C. nelsoni. The day’s heat, however, was not only making the beetles very difficult to catch but also starting to get to me. Fortunately, distant thunderclouds came closer and closer until they were directly overhead. Rather than rain, however, it was virga, so I got the best of both worlds—an immediate cooling off that was not only comfortable for me but also settled the beetles down without the rain that would have sent me scurrying back to camp.
Virga brings relief from the heat to the dunes.
In the end, I succeeded in collecting another nice series of specimens.
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
By then it was mid-afternoon and I was famished, so I headed back to camp to refresh, refuel, rehydrate, and catch up on my field notes. Comically, as I was writing my notes, I happened to be watching one of the common sagebrush lizards (Sceloporusgraciosus) that had been hanging around the campsite as it bit at and then rejected some type of insect that was crawling on the logpile next to the firepit. I got up to see what it had rejected, and it turned out to be Danosoma brevicorne (family Elateridae), which I am happy to add to the collection.
Common sagebrush lizard (Sceloporusgraciosus).
Danosoma brevicorne on woodpile.
After some chill time at the campsite [it was actually very busy—I wrote my field notes from earlier, charged all my devices using an inverter hooked up to the car battery, and downloaded photos from my “big camera” memory card to the computer], I went back to the dunes to see if I could get “big camera” photo of the beetles. It was touch-and-go at the start—shortly after reaching the dunes it started sprinkling and the wind started picking up. All I could do was wait it out, hope conditions improved, and be ready to bolt if the skies opened up. Just as quickly as it started up, however, it blew over, and I was able to start looking for beetles. As with every other time during this visit, it didn’t take long. The first beetle I found was a bit hidden within the crown of the plant, but I was able to carefully move the leaves out of the way without disturbing the beetle and got a nice series of shots. I was happy with the photos, but I wanted photos that were a little less “cluttered.” The perfect opportunity for such arose when I saw a beetle sitting out near the tip of a leaf. It was not in the best position—other leaves were partially blocking it from view, so I carefully grabbed the leaf at the base and gently pulled until it detached from the plant. Fortunately, the beetle wasn’t phased by the tugging and continued to sit calmly on the leaf. I wanted a blurred pink sand background, which I thought would look spectacular behind the brilliant green color of the beetle, so I stuck the base of the leaf in the sand to prop it up and adjusted the angle and distance in concert with my camera and flash settings until I achieved the desired effect. I’m super happy with how some of these photographs turned out, so look for them to appear in a future post. I’m probably lucky that the mini-storm moved through when it did, as the cool conditions likely calmed the beetles down and made them more willing subjects. By the time I finished photographing the second beetle, the sinking sun signaled a dinner bell, and I walked back to the campground super satisfied with how this visit had turned out.
After dinner, I turned the ultraviolet lights on despite the just-shy-of-full moon and customary coolish temperatures. I didn’t expect anything to show up, but you don’t know if you don’t try (nothing ever showed up!).
Mustard makes everything fancy in the field.
While waiting for nothing to come to the lights, I made several rounds of the large ponderosa pines, expanding the circuit to include some further toward the west end of the campground. As with the night before, I found a half dozen Zopherus uteanus crawling on the trunks (one was up too high to reach, though, and when I knocked it down with a stick it disappeared into the thick vegetation below the tree). I’d really like to know what these guys are up to during the day (hiding in the leaf litter at the base of the trees?) and what the larvae are doing (no idea!), but they certainly seem to be associated with pines (I’ve also collected Zopherus concolor at night on the trunks of Colorado pinyon pine). I also found a few more tenebrionid darkling beetles, including another Embaphion glabrum, crawling on the sandy ground beneath the trees. I expanded my search to include the trunks of some of the large Utah junipers, finding a few more tenebrionids on them.
Embaphion glabrum in ponderosa pine grove at night.
With midnight approaching, I soaked in my last bit of experience at the place before retiring for the night and leaving the next morning.
A waxing gibbous, almost full moon rises high above the campground.
Day 9
I left Ponderosa Grove Campground about 9:30 am with the plan to spend the next couple of days in Kyle Canyon and Lee Canyon northwest of Las Vegas. The drop down from the Colorado Plateau via the Virgin River Canyon was long the most spectacular stretches of freeway I’ve ever seen, but the sad reward waiting at the bottom was searing +100°F heat (the highest I saw registered on my car’s thermometer was 108°F!). Fortunately, turning off I-11 and heading west on Kyle Canyon Road gradually gained elevation. Before reaching the canyon proper, however, I had one of the trip’s top goals to take care of—setting a bottle trap for the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (recall that I encountered the namesake of this species, Mike Raschko, just two days prior at Ponderosa Grove Campground). I found the type locality no problem (where the modest gain in elevation had reduced the temperature to only 100°F!) and also found the trap that Mike had just set the day before we met.
Lower Kyle Canyon Rd—type locality of Acmaeodera raschkoi.
I placed yellow bottle trap about 59 m to the west from Mike’s trap and a blue bottle trap about 45 m to the east. There was no reason to stay at the locality and try to collect, as things were super dry, the only green vegetation seen besides the Yucca jaegeriana (eastern Joshua tree—family Asparagaceae) dotting the landscape was a small Cylindropuntia ramosissima (branched pencil colla—family Cactaceae).
I had originally planned to camp lower down in the canyon at Kyle Canyon Campground, but by the time I got there it was already nearly filled to capacity. There were a couple of campsites still available, but the campground as a whole had a noisy, crowded vibe that wasn’t my cup of tea. I decided to take a chance and head further up the mountain to Hilltop Campground to see if I could find something more to my liking. It was a short drive up the mountain, and this campground also was nearly filled to capacity. However, it was a much quieter vibe, and among the three campsites still available was one that was isolated from all the others on the side of the mountain with spectacular views across the canyon and down into the desert below. Also, the 8300 ft of elevation offered much cooler conditions—a welcome change from the searing temperatures I had endured earlier in the day. It was perfect!
View from Hilltop Campground, Spring Mountains, Nevada.
I quickly set up camp and began looking around. Not far from the campsite I found a wind-thrown branch Utah juniper, and slicing into the bark I found a dead adult Semanotus sp. prob. caseyi amplus (not as exciting as S. juniperi, but still a nice find) and a small scolytid bark beetle boring an oviposition gallery. I did a bit of chopping into the bark and found small new cerambycid galleries (probably either Callidium or Semanotus) and some very large frass-filled galleries at the larger end that may be Semanotus juniperi. I found the frass-plugged entrance hole to the sapwood —a sign that the beetle had not yet emerged—and chipped away on either side of the gallery into the sapwood until I saw the large cerambycid larvae sitting it it. This confirms that the wood is actively infested, and I’ll cut it up and bring it home for rearing. At the empty campsite next to mine, I found a small, recently dead Abies concolor (white fir—family Pinaceae), and closer inspection of the trunk revealed an adult Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa, and on a return trip to the tree I saw another one (but too high up to capture ☹️). I also hung a red wine-baited jug trap just south of the campsite. There wasn’t much else going on in the area and it was getting late, so I got dinner started.
Sunset at Hilltop Campground.
I didn’t even consider setting up lights—the combination of a full moon and the cool, windy conditions that typify sites at this high of an elevation made the chance of success highly unlikely (in fact, it got so cool that I needed to pull on a fleece pullover). That did not, however, mean I could not do any night collecting—examining tree trunks has become a favorite strategy of mine that can be done on almost any night regardless of temperatures or wind. Trees under stress or recently dead (as well as recent wind throws or woodpiles) are especially good to look at, and I had noticed several during my earlier foray that I made a point to check. At the same time, I have also learned not to ignore living, seemingly healthy trees, as these can also harbor interesting beetles. Of course, the very first tree I headed for was the recently dead white fir on which I had collected Dicerca tenebrosa a few hours earlier, and I was rewarded right off the bat with an unusually small Zopherus uteanus. I wondered if this might be an interesting locality for the species, but I saw the species was recorded from Kyle Canyon in a review of the genus by Triplehorn (1972) (at which time it was still placed in the family Tenebrionidae). I quickly found another individual, this time on the trunk of a large Utah juniper—interestingly, the first non-pinaceous host on which I’ve found the species (although still a gymnosperm).
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
What I was most anxious to check, however, was a large Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) that I had seen nearby with a long, twisting scar from a lightning strike gashing down the trunk—surely there would be something on that (there wasn’t despite checking it repeatedly for the next couple of hours). What did produce beetles, though, was a large, recently wind-thrown branch from that very tree laying on the ground nearby—two species and multiple specimens of each, one (Oeme? sp.) searching frenetically back and forth along the branch, and the other (Haplidus? sp.) in the form of a mating pair. I found it interesting that my inspection of the branch earlier during the day produced nothing.
Oeme? sp. on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Haplidus? sp. mating pair on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
At this point, the night was already a reasonable success, but the greatest success lay just ahead. I had noticed a few large Utah junipers that showed evidence of infestation by Semanotus juniperi—or at least that what I presumed based on what I had learned about that species in the Kaibab Plateau a few days earlier. Not that I thought I would see adults of that species, but I figured the trees would have to be under some stress and might attract other beetles (I had already collected Z. uteanus off of one a few minutes prior). The first one I checked had nothing on it, but when I checked the second one I noticed a large black longhorned beetle on the trunk underneath some shredded bark. I carefully removed the overlying bark to get a better look at it and quickly realized that it was, indeed, S. juniperi! As I prepared to take a photograph, I noticed movement a bit higher on the trunk, and there sat a second individual! In the fraction of a second that followed, the memory of all the chainsaw work I had done a few days earlier in an effort to rear proper specimens flashed through my mind, yet here before me now were two live adults on their host in the wild. I presume the tree is attracting the adults and that there are already numerous individuals inside of it, as I found large swaths of larval galleries under the bark but no obvious adult emergence holes. The tree itself looks healthy and shows no outward sign of stress, and were it not for the evidence of larval galleries I wouldn’t have even suspected it was infested. As with Z. uteanus, this species also has been recorded from Kyle Canyon (Hammond & Williams 2013).
Semanotus juniperi on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
Over the next hour, I continued inspecting trees in the area, but especially those on which I’d found beetles, and eventually that effort was rewarded with a third S. juniperi on the same tree I collected the previous two. The final collection of the night occurred just after that, when I found not one but two more Z. uteanus, this time on the trunk of P. monophylla. I made one more quick round of the trees, but as it was now midnight I accepted the bounty of the night and turned in.
Days 10 & 11
Unfortunately, I had to end the trip rather abruptly due to a confluence of circumstances at home. The final straw was the rapid decline of Berlioz—our 20-year-old cat (only lifelong cat lovers will understand the bond between a man and his cat). It was not a surprise, and in the morning as soon as I was able to break camp, I left Kyle Canyon and spent the next two days blasting north on I-15 and west on I-70. Sadly, I wasn’t able to make it home before he passed. I’ve had many cats over the course of my life, but King Berlioz was the best!
A tobacco hornworm (Manduca sexta) caterpillar that has been parasitized by braconid wasps (Cotesia sp.). The wasps developed inside the caterpillar as grubs, consuming all but the most vital of organs to avoid killing it before they completed their development. They then exited the caterpillar’s body and spun small white silken cocoons in which to pupate and eventually emerge as adults. The adult wasps have already emerged, and though the caterpillar is still alive, it will die before it can complete its development and become an adult moth. The caterpillar was photographed at night in front of a so-called “supermoon” rising in the eastern sky. This is a single exposure image—-not a composite photograph—with the camera focused on the caterpillar (illuminated by flash) but its settings adjusted to also detect ambient light from the distant moon. The moon is necessarily out of focus due to depth-of-field constraints. Photographed 11 Aug 2014 in Mississippi Co., Missouri at the Hwy 62 bridge over the Mississippi River.
Honorable Mention (Plants and Fungi)
A single blossom on the inflorescence of clasping milkweed (Asclepias amplexicaulis). This uncommon species is scattered throughout Missouri but is especially fond of habitats with dry sand substrates. It can be easily identified by its erect, glabrous stems, sessile, clasping leaves, and pinkish flowers. Photographed 23 April 2012 in Scott Co., Missouri at Sand Prairie Conservation Area.
Welcome to the 15th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the second 11-day insect collecting trip to eastern New Mexico this year. This trip, which took place on June 17–28, was a follow-up to “Act 1” on May 14–25 with the purpose of servicing “jug traps” placed on the first trip. Joining me this time was Rich Thoma, who has accompanied me on more field trips than anyone else over the past four decades! Initially I had planned to pick up the traps that I’d placed on the first trip; however, I found the idea of sampling just the early part of the longhorned beetle season to be unsatisfying and decided shortly before the trip to service the traps but leave them in place for another sampling period and make a third trip later in the season to retrieve them. It will be a coupe of months, however, before I can make that third trip, meaning the traps will be out for much longer than normal and making desirable any modifications that I can make to extend their effectiveness. To that end, I prepared larger bait bottles (500-ml capacity versus 250-ml) and purchased enough propylene glycol to fill the jug reservoirs to the limit of their capacity (1250 ml versus the 900 ml used previously). The prototype trap that I made prior to the trip seemed to work, so it was only a matter of deploying them in the field and keeping my fingers crossed. Similar to the last trip, we ended up making 16 visits to 16 different localities—15 in New Mexico, one in Oklahoma (versus 13 localities previously), but unlike last trip we also spent time at two localities (one in Oklahoma, one in Texas) strictly for hiking and observation.
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge Alfalfa County, Oklahoma Rich and I are repeating the 12-hour drive from St. Louis to Black Mesa State Park in the northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle that I did last month with Mike Arduser. I decided not to do the dreadful I-44 through Tulsa route, even though it is quicker, because I really just dread the boredom of the interstates and especially dislike the traffic and highways around Tulsa. Instead, we cut into southern Kansas at the last mile in Missouri and skimmed the bottom edge of that state—a very scenic route—until dropping down into Oklahoma once we’d gotten past I-35. Since we were passing by Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge and it had been probably ten or more years since we’d stopped there, we decided to take a look around the alkaline flats to see what tiger beetles we might see.
Alkaline flats at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle) was out in abundance, allowing easy cell phone photography.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
There was also the occasional individual of the dreadfully pedestrian Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), but none of the other alkaline flat specialties like Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) or Eunota togata globicollis (white-cloaked tiger beetle) were seen.
Cicindela punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
We were fooled, however, by a tiny species of “tiger beetle” that, upon closer inspection, proved to be a shore bug (Pentacora signoreti—family Saldidae).
Pentacora signoreti (shore bug—family Saldidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
It was dreadfully windy (as it often is in the wide open reaches of the vast Great Plains), so nothing was found on the few flowers that were found along the trail. Not wanting to delay our arrival at Black Mesa this evening too much, we cut the visit short and continued on the way.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of the alkaline flat.
The rest of the drive along the northern edge of Oklahoma was stunningly beautiful. Not only did we get to enjoy the non-interstate landscape and the more intimate experience it provided, but we also watched a spectacular storm system as it bloomed across the skies to the north and west. Radar and forecasts calmed our fears that we would experience it more directly—it was slated to sweep across Kansas but not touch Oklahoma, letting us admire stunning vistas of golden fields of sunlit wheat against a backdrop of blackened clouds …
Storm in Kansas over wheat in Oklahoma.
…and, as sunset approached, fiery skies peaking out between them.
The setting sun peaks between the storm and the wheat.
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, Oklahoma By the time we reached Black Mesa State Park, it was well dark, but we got camp set up with enough time left to enjoy a beer and relax a bit before walking the roads to see what beetles might be out and about. I was hoping to see Amblycheila cylindriformis (Plains giant tiger beetle), but our finds were limited to darkling beetles (Eleodes suturalis and E. longicollis)…
Eleodes suturalis (red-backed darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) “headstanding” at night in juniper woodland.
…a couple of Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae)…
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) at night in juniper woodland.
…and an interesting aggregation of Epicauta sp. prob. maculata species-group blister beetles (family Meloidae).
Epicauta sp. prob. bispinosa aggregated at night in juniper woodland.
Satisfied we’d given the area a good enough look, we settled into the fly-less tent to admire the stars while falling to sleep in the cool night air.
Unsettled skies at night portend trouble ahead.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit the Lincoln National Forest’s Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Both of those decisions did not work out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed, despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm, so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning. Then, when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove to the entrance anyway, where we found a parking area for a trailhead and looked around a bit. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed the recent rains, but there was almost no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs didn’t help with our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Day 2
Conditions turned quickly and unexpectedly on us! There was no hint of rain in the local forecast, but we awoke at 2 am to drizzle coming through the roof of the tent and quickly installed the rain fly. It rained the rest of the night—sometimes heavily, and while we were able to eat breakfast and then break camp in the morning before heavy rains returned it was still a cold, windy, drizzly experience. (I’ve now camped here seven times in the last two years, and this is the fourth time I’ve experience blustery cold and/or rainy weather here!) We had planned to collect during the morning at our favorite nearby spot—a sandstone outcropping just east of Kenton where I have collected five new state records—two cerambycids and three buprestids—in the last few years. Steady rain and cold temperatures, however, cancelled those plans, and radar and forecasts made it appear we might spend the next two or three days dealing with such unless we made significant progress towards the south. We decided to go to our next stop—Mills Rim Campground—where I had the first set of my traps to service, and then see how conditions developed before deciding whether to stay or move on.
Mills Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico Rains did let up as we approached Mill Rim Campground and while we were there, but only temporarily while cool (almost cold!) conditions persisted. We stopped on the road into the campground to check out a pile of recently-cut juniper wood hoping to see woodboring beetles, but all I saw was a solitary bee fly (though one I’d never noticed before—Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae).
Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae) in juniper woodland.
In the campground, I was pleased to see that all three traps were still in place, though the bait and reservoir liquid were both completely gone in them. I was also pleased to find that the traps redeployed nicely with my changes (larger 500-ml bait bottle and a larger volume—1250 ml—of diluted propylene glycol in the reservoir).
“Jug trap” hanging in ponderosa pine with two improvements: larger (500-ml) bait bottle, and larger volume of diluted propylene glycol (1250 ml instead of 900 ml).
Catch results, however, were a bit disappointing. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps had lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids, while the EtOH trap had nothing but a single E. fulgida (I suspect the trap reservoir may have been “dumped” during high winds). The white bottle trap had a few Acmaeodera spp. and about 12–15 bees, which I collected for my mellitologist friend Mike Arduser.
The “rim” of Mill Canyon.
Once all the traps had been serviced, the continuing rain and cold conditions made it an easy decision to keep moving south and forget about trying to collect or camp here!
“San Jon Hill” Quay County, New Mexico The forecasts showed temperatures about 10°F higher once we got as far south as San Jon, near which I had a set of traps that needed to be serviced, and about an hour further south was Oasis State Park where we would have a place to camp and possibly collect if the conditions were right. Conditions did indeed improve as we neared San Jon, with solid overcast skies beginning to brighten in the south and intermittent sun beginning to reach the ground. By the time we reached the spot where my traps were located, temps were well above 80°F and skies were partly sunny—but what wind!
We set about servicing the traps, and here I had another concerned calmed—this was the last place I had set traps last month, so the traps were the older style body made from shorter water jugs—nevertheless, the larger bait bottles fit inside the traps (barely), and the reservoir was able to handle the higher liquid amount. Results for the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps were nearly identical to Mills Rim—both filled with lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids (or at least very few—I did see at least one as I dumped the catch into the plastic bag). Again, I bagged the catch from both traps for later sorting. The EtOH trap, unfortunately, was down—the hanging rope was cut, apparently snapped due to rubbing against a branch in the wind. Just in case the culprit was hominid, however, I installed a new trap in a different nearby tree where it couldn’t be seen from the previous spot. The white bottle trap was absolutely overwhelmed with both Acmaeoderamixta and A. ligulata (and hopefully other species as well) and bees (for Mike), which I bagged for later sorting. We spent another hour or so collecting, but it was not terribly productive for me—beating Prosopis glandulosa produced lots of leaf-footed bugs and tiny beetles from the flowers, but I kept only a single Cleridae. I also beat a lot of oaks (Quercus mohriana and Q. x undulata) hoping to find more Brachys barberi (got one last time) but found nothing except a couple of elaterids. I also swept several stands of Quercus havardii but found nothing but grasshopper nymphs. All of the Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear) from which I had collected Acmaeodera spp. last time were bloomed out, but I paid attention to them anyway hoping to see cactus beetles and finally found one Moneilema armatum on the pad of one.
Moneilema armatum (black cactus longhorned beetle— family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland).
I also encountered a single plant in flower, from which I collected one Trichiotinus texanus (Texas flower scarab) and a couple of Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab). There were a few A. mixta on various flowers (primarily Thelesperma megapotamicum and Xanthisma spinulosa), but I let Rich have them and didn’t see any other species. Having satisfied ourselves that we’d gotten a good enough look, we continued south towards Oasis State Park.
Sunlit windmills stretch across the horizon under changeable skies.
Oasis State Park Roosevelt County, New Mexico Nice conditions and brightly sunlit windmills followed us during the 90-minute drive further south to our campground near Portales, with a spectacular bonus sunset greeting us upon our arrival.
Sunset on the Sand Dune Trail at Oasis State Park.
I quick ran over to the Sand Dune Trail to get a photo, knowing that colored sunsets of that sort are fleeting at best, and then we set about putting up camp and grilling some brats. Afterwards, we began our night walk to see what critters might be out and about, but first I wanted to go to a small, nicely-lit building near the restrooms to see what the lights may have pulled in (despite the presence of nearly full moon). At first I found only a few tenebrionids, though in nice variety and including one of the fantastically explanate tenebrionid Embaphion muricatum, and a crummy Cicindelidia punctulata chiricahuae (western subspecies of the punctured tiger beetle), but then I found several bolboceratine geotrupids—the large chunky Bradycinetulus fossatus, and several of the smaller Eucanthus sp. Then I saw a big something crawling frenetically nearby in the road, went over to look at it, and saw that it was a female Prionus arenarius—what a find!
Prionus arenarius (sandwalker prionid—family Cerambycidae) dead female on road through sand dune habitat.
There wasn’t much on the Sand Dune Trail loop, but another Embaphion muricatum on the loop and dead but perfectly intact specimens on the road through the campground of yet another Bradycinetulus fossatus and female Prionus arenarius—the two best finds of the night—made the walk worth it. Afterwards, we returned to the building lights to see if more Prionus (male or female) had arrived, but by then it was close to midnight and the cool night air had a decided “things are over” feel to it.
Arethaea mescalero (Mescalero thread-leg katydid—family Tettigoniidae) under light at night in sand dune habitat.
A species of straight-faced windscorpion (family Eremobatidae) under building light at night in sand dune habitat.
Day 3
We stayed dry all night and awoke to sunny skies early, but clouds increased as the morning progressed and the forecast called for rain starting around 10 am. Rich wanted to look around while we had the chance, but I’d seen enough and instead worked on my notes while he was out and about. Eventually we broke camp and headed out—no sooner had we done that then the rain started! We eventually learned that all this rain we were dealing with had a name—Tropical Storm Alberto, which had made landfall the day before in Mexico and was throwing moisture everywhere in its wake. At least it now made sense to us why the entire eastern half of the state was so persistently rainy no matter where we went. As we drove towards our next stop (Mescalero Sands Recreation Area), we formulated Plan B to blast all the way south and west to near Las Cruces, which seemed to be escaping the rains, and hole up there for the next two days until things cleared up. However, we arrived at the dunes under partly sunny skies and nicely warm, though quite windy, conditions.
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area Chaves County, New Mexico The first order of business was to service my jug traps, which I had hung in the Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) stands that dot the highway rights-of-way along the edge of the sand dune area. This has been one of my best collecting spots over the years—being the only place where I have reliably found in numbers the beautiful lime-green Agrilus sapindi in association with the soapberry. Unfortunately, all three jug traps were empty—compromised in some way by the strong winds that seem to persist in this area. One trap was “spun around” the branch on which it was hanging, another dropped when the rope came undone, and the third simply swung wildly in the wind, throwing the bait bottle and emptying the reservoir. I elected not to rehang any of the traps here, having little confidence that I would be able hang them any more securely than I had already done. It’s a shame, because I was really interested in seeing what longhorned beetles the traps would pull, not only from the soapberrys in which they were hanging but also from the surrounding Quercus havardii (shinnery oak)-dominated sandhill shrubland. Right on queue, however, I found several A. sapindi and one Neoclytus mucronatus vogti on the soapberries as I was retrieving the last trap.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) in sand shrubland.
Also, though not an insect, I noticed a partial mammal cranium (missing the maxillae) half-buried in the sand. I picked it up and looked at it, thinking it might be a javelina because of the far rear-situated cranial crest. Then I noticed the other half of the cranium lying teeth-upwards nearby. The two pieces fit together nearly perfectly (some minor warping notwithstanding), and the large canine tusks convinced me even more so that it represented a javelina. I bagged it and will glue it together when I return home for display in my “bone shelf”!
Assembled fragments of collared peccary (Pecari tajacu) cranium found along roadside through sand shrubland.
As I started heading back to the car, I saw—and missed!—a Chrysobothris mescalero on the shinnery oak in that spot—damn! Happily, I did manage to sweep another individual from the plants back near where we parked. Continued sweeping failed to produce any more individuals, but what I really wanted to find was Agrilus hespenheidei—also beautiful green but completely unrelated to A. sapindi and which I have collected only sparingly in the past but failed completely to find on my most recent visit. I swept the grasses along the roadside and found none (for now!), then went into the recreation area entrance to retrieve the white bottle trap—it was overwhelmed with Acmaeodera spp. and bees, which I bagged and will sort later. Very little else was seen, and by the time I returned to the car Rich was satisfied with the myriad pollinating insects he’d collected off the soapberry flowers and specimens of A. sapindi and C. mescalero that he’d swept. It was still early enough in the day after refueling and rehydrating that we decided to visit the dunes proper and see what might be out.
Distant sand dunes frame an even more distant escarpment.
I wasn’t very optimistic about collecting in the dunes, given that paucity of insects seen in the shrubland along the highway and just inside the entrance, but there was still enough time left in the day to spend time here and not enough to move on to the campground near Roswell and collect there. For much of the time, my pessimism prevailed, as I did a bit of sweeping here and there and saw (but did not collect) only the occasional mutillid (velvet ant) and tenebrionid (darkling beetle). The scenery was nice, however, and the temperatures comfortable, and at the furthest point out we had a bit of fun “working” a common blotch-sided lizard (Uta standsburiana) female into a place where we were able to photograph her.
Me taking a photo of a Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) female. Photo by Richard Thoma.
On the way back, I happened to notice a buprestid sitting on the dried stem of Sporobolus giganteus (giant dropseed) and realized it was the one buprestid I was hoping to collect here—Agrilus hespenheidei! This led to a renewed round of sweeping in all the neighboring plants and others along the way back, resulting in several interesting captures such as an ataxiine cerambycid, one Macrosaigon sp., two Selenodon sp., and a couple of small weevils—but no additional A. heapenheidei! I also found an interesting little Eusattus sp. tenebrionid on the sand, so it was nice leaving the place knowing that I would not be “skunked” for the first time on the trip!
We drove through rain on the drive going west towards Roswell, and shortly afterwards I saw a male Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) crossing the highway. I did a U-turn and went back to it to 1) move it off the highway so it wouldn’t get run over and 2) take photos of it. Several cars passed over it as we were backtracking, but fortunately none ran over it, and we had a clear road to turn around once again and pull over. We took a few quick photos while it was still on the road—one amazingly capturing the newly formed rainbow in the background—before a semi bearing down from the distance forced us to quickly “guide” it off the road. It really wanted to continue to the other side, so we had to be quite insistent on forcing it off the road, and after traffic cleared we coaxed it into a jar and delivered it to the other side of the highway all the way to the fenceline.
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain crossing road in mesquite chaparral (framed by rainbow!).
Bottomless Lakes State Park Chaves County, New Mexico We arrived at the park with some good daylight to spare and snagged the choicest campsite in the entire campground (why the people at the two already occupied sites didn’t take it is beyond me!), explored our new home for a bit, and then set about putting everything in place.
Premier campsite at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
As soon as we finished, we noticed a rain shower in the distance and debated the direction it was moving. I thought it would pass to our east, but within minutes it was raining—and a few minutes later it was pouring! But we watched in comfort under the large metal shelter covering our table and admired the incredible rainbow that formed over the canyon wall bordering the eastern side of our campsite.
Rains appearing on the horizon.
Rainbow-framed canyon walls at the edge of our campsite.
Eventually the rain stopped and we fired up some burgers on the grill. Wildlife competed for my interest while the burgers were cooking, apparently brought out by the fresh rain and coming darkness. These included a kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.) and a red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus).
Kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.—family Heteromyidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus—family Bufonidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
The fresh rain, coolish temps, and near-full moon made setting up the lights to attract insects out of the question, but after dinner when darkness had fully settled we walked the road through the campground to look for nocturnal beetles. I was hoping to find Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle), one of which had had found up on the rock slope the last time I was here, but I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of clambering over steep, wet rocks in the dark and settled for the pavement up to the beginning of the tent campground and back. Large tenebrionid darkling beetles were expected, thus the two we saw were no surprise, but what did surprise and delight us was another male tarantula—and not the common Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) but the much less commonly encountered Chihuahuan gray (A. gabeli)! This was a delight and becomes the fourth species of tarantula I’ve found in the wild. We trailed it back and forth as it ambled along the road trying to get good photos, but it never stopped long enough to allow such. Eventually it did stop along the side of the road, where we took some “okay” photos before moving on.
Aphonopelma gabeli (Chiricahuan gray tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As we began to walk away, I had second thoughts and decided to try for one more frontal portrait shot, but I had to move a little plant stem that was obscuring the view. I did this as carefully as I could, but the tarantula sensed something and suddenly took off like a shot. I followed as it bolted across the road, where suddenly it stopped and hunkered down right out in the open—as if it had fled the danger and was now willing to wait it out for a bit before resuming its wandering. At that point, I was able to easily take the frontal portrait photos that I desired—all that following and frustration, when all I really needed to do was scare it and wait for it to stop running.
The sight a cricket does not want to see!
By the time we returned to the campsite, I was exhausted and turned in early (rare for me!).
Day 4
It started raining again around 2 am and didn’t really let up until after noon. We took advantage of the chance to update our field notes and process specimens before going into town to pick up a few supplies. It was still raining when we returned later in the morning, but only lightly and allowing us to stop at the cenote next to the visitor center. I never took the opportunity to look at one of the cenotes last time, so this was my first actual look at one of them.
Rich admites a “cenote” (Cottonwood Lake) at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
Chlorochroa ligata (conchuela bug—family Pentatomidae) mating pair on seedpod of Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
We headed back to our campsite and continued working on our field notes and adding captions to our photographs until the rain finally stopped around 1:30 pm, and by 2:30 conditions had dried out and temps warmed enough to warrant going out and collecting.
Plathemis subornata (desert skimmer—family Libellulidae) near cenote in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
I started out by hiking the ravine from our campground down to where it drained into a cenote (Pasture Lake) near the adjacent campsite and found lots of Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug) on the ground near and within a stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along the lake margin where they were walking about, mating, and burrowing into the soil at base of the plants—especially dead remnants.
Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug—family Curculionidae) near stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along cenote shoreline.
I also scoured the barren alkaline soil along the lake margin for tiger beetles and found a couple of Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) elytra and several adult Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle). Before leaving the lake area I also snagged an Acmaeodera gibbula in flight and then wandered over to the area where I found Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush) infested with longhorned beetles (Amannus sp., which I still have not identified). I was hoping to see adults now emerged and in the plants, but none were seen. I also kept an eye out for buprestids on the Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) but never saw anything. I was starting to think buprestids were (puzzlingly) out-of-season as I wandered up into the picnic area where I found several things last time and quickly saw a beautiful Gyascutus planicosta obliterata adult sitting on the foliage of A. canescens. Over the next couple of hours I would collect a handful of these beautiful beetles. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen members of this genus in the field, and I’d forgotten whether they were skittish or sluggish—this one was the latter and let me take a nice close photo before obligingly dropping into the net. Probably it depends on temperature, as I remember collecting these in Texas in blazing hot conditions and seeing them zip off instantly and fly far into the distance upon sensing my approach. Today’s temps were much more modest (thankfully), so the adults were rather easy to collect.
Gyascutus planicosta obliterata (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As I looked for Gyascutus on the slopes and around the picnic area, I took the opportunity to beat the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa)—especially those in flower. [Edit: the genus Prosopis was recently split up into several genera, with P. glandulosa being assigned to the new genus Neltuma. I don’t reject this new placement but will use the older, more familiar name on this blog until the new name receives greater acceptance.] Most of what I saw were leaffooted bugs, but I did pick up one more A. gibbula, one Acmaeoderopsis hulli, a few Epicauta sp., and a couple each of a darnine and a centrotine membracid. I also continued to inspect A. canescens plants for signs of infestation by Amannus but was unable to find any larvae or unemerged adults in the few living plants that I broke apart when they exhibited emergence holes. What I did find, however, was an Acmaeodera sp. partial cadaver of an adult that had failed to emerge. I was able to retrieve its elytral shield (Acmaeodera sp. have fused elytra, which they lift up during flight rather than spread apart like most other buprestids), and hopefully it will be enough to enable a species identification and a confirmed larval host plant association. By the time I looked at the last plant, it was going on 6 pm. I was hot, thirsty, and hungry, and I had a lot of specimens from previous days still to process, so I headed back to the campsite.
Rich admires another cenote (Pasture Lake) while I scale the canyon walls above.
It took a couple of hours to write up my notes and complete processing of the specimens I’d collected from the bottle trap yesterday at Mescalero Sands (I’m guessing there were at least 100, if not 200, Acmaeodera specimens as well as a few dozen bees for Mike). As darkness descended, the full moon rising in the east dampened any enthusiasm I may have had for putting up the full UV/MV (ultraviolet/mercury vapor) light setup, but what we did do was much simpler: just lay a UV light on a white sheet on the ground. Despite the increasingly intense moonlight, tiger beetles began to show up on and near the sheet. Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) was the first to arrive and turned out to be abundant.
Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Jundlandia lemniscata repaptisata (rouged tiger beetle) also was common, but it took longer for them to come in.
Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
What I was most recited about, however, were the two individuals of Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle) that showed up.
Cicindela tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Rich also found a Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle running on the ground nearby. Eventually we decided to walk the road—Rich was hoping to see snakes, and I was hoping to see Amblycheila picolominii (Plains giant tiger beetle), a single individual of which I had seen during my previous visit up on the gypsum/red siltstone slope bordering the campground. Neither of us saw what we were hoping to see, or anything else for that matter, so we returned to the campground. I still had Amblycheila on my mind, however, so I decided to go back up onto the slopes where I had seen the species before to at least give myself a chance of seeing it again. I clambered semi-directly to the spot where I had seen it before, continued across the slope to the northern canyon limit, and then went downslope a bit to traverse the again in the opposite direction. Right as I started across again, I found one ambling across the rocks much as the previous one I’d seen. This charged my motivation, and though traversing the slope several more times proved fruitless, I was still a happy camper!
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
After returning to the campsite, I decided to explore the steep, narrow, canyon ravine behind our campsite, which I still had not yet done, and picked my way over the rocks to as far as I could go. I kind of expected/hoped to see Amblycheila, but not really—just wanted to explore the unique canyon feature. Near the furthest point I shine my headlamp on the steep clay slope at the bottom of the canyon wall and saw a Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi). It was not, however, just any ol’ Texas brown, but a female—recognizable as such by her relatively shorter legs and larger abdomen and also the fact that she was sitting right next to her burrow. I’m sure Madam will be rightly excited when she finds out we have a new pet named Bertha!
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) near burrow on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
You’d think this would be the perfect swan song for the evening, but as I picked my way back down the canyon floor I spotted another A. picolominii, which made me want to keep exploring even more. This I did, going down to the spot along the Bluff Trail where I’d had so much success with Gyascutus earlier in the afternoon, but the only thing all this extra walking resulted in was an even later bedtime. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have been more pleased at finding six tiger beetle species during this visit (after finding only the single Amblycheila last time and thinking I was losing my tiger beetle mojo!).
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
Day 5
Despite the great success we’d had collecting insects in Bottomless Lakes State Park the previous day or so, there was one thing I was glad to be leaving—the house flies! They swarmed our campsite in numbers I’d never seen before, relentlessly landing on everything including our supplies, hands, faces, etc. it then took an hour or so getting all of the thousand or so that had infiltrated our vehicle out of the vehicle as we drove towards our next stop in the southernmost tract of the Lincoln National Forest in Eddy Co. Before leaving Roswell, however, we had to stop by the “Alien Welcome Monument” at the edge of town. I was disappointed to see that my version of “Kilroy was here” graffiti from last time’s visit was gone (apparently the monument gets painted over periodically), so I added it back.
Rich (L) and me in the requisite Roswell alien selfie.
“Entomological graffiti.”
X Bar Rd Eddy County, New Mexico The gradual ascent from the desert floor up into the pinyon/oak/juniper zone of the mountains is among the remotest-feeling that I have ever experienced, and just shy of the National Forest boundary we found our next spot. My biggest concern was whether the area was still experiencing drought conditions, but we were happy to see that the area has actually received rain—enough in the last day or so to thoroughly wet the soil. We could see it in the way the area looked, with most of the oaks and acacias having sprouted new leaves and the surrounding slopes exhibiting a greenish “cast.” The catches from all three traps were similar to each other and to what we had seen further north—i.e., mostly moths, but without the Euphoria fulgida. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps seemed to have caught more than the EtOH trap, but the difference was not as large as further north. I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in the first two (as I bagged them for later sorting), but not many. I was hoping to see my primary target—Purpuricenus opacus, but I also knew that it may be a bit early for that species (and with the prevailing droughty conditions I may never see it). The white bottle trap, on the other hand, was loaded with Acmaeodera spp. and bees (the latter which I kept for Mike). Seeing the fresh foliage on the plants in the area, I set about beating some of them hoping things were starting to come out. Beating Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), however, produced only a few chrysomelids, as did beating the oaks (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe). There was very little in bloom, and sweeping the roadside vegetation produced nothing. Even the the few Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) from which I’d collected a fair number of Acmaeodera spp. last time were devoid of flowers. Hopefully the recent rains will continue to trigger further beetle emergence, and my traps will collect some of these over the next two months.
Chihuahuan spotted whiptail (Aspidoscelis exsanguis) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Klondike Gap Rd, Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico We were optimistic about what we might see at this, my highest priority location for the jug traps, as it was from here that the west Texas specialty Purpuricenus opacus was recently reared from oak. Since the previous spot had seen rain, it seemed likely that this one had as well. Sadly, the landscape turned bone dry as we approached—dust on the plants with no sign of fresh foliage proving that it hadn’t rained for some time. My spirits were further dampened when I found the SRW trap down due to a frayed and broken rope. I rehung the trap with replacement rope (I always bring a spare trap and parts just in case) and was pleased to find both the SRW/EtOH and EtOH-only traps still hanging and—remarkably—with even more numerous trap catches than at the previous spot despite the lack of rain. Again, I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in each, but not many, and not a single scarab. The real surprise, however, came with the white bottle trap—literally hundreds of Acmaeodera, perhaps three or four times as many as were in the bottle trap at the previous spot. There were even a couple of still-living beetles walking about on top of the mass of beetles that were testing the limits of the volume of propylene glycol in the trap, suggesting that the beetles are currently active even with the dry conditions—but where are they?! There are no flowers to speak of, and beating produced nothing, yet the beetles must be flying about. All I can do is hope that conditions will improve sometime over the next two months that the traps are out and that they will be able attract whatever emerges whenever that happens.
“Jug trap” supplies with bagged catch.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Last month when I came here with Mike, our only reason for coming here was that it was a campground close to my trap localities where we could spend the night after setting the traps and then move on the next morning. When we arrived, however, we were immediately captivated by the stunning beauty of the canyon, and we decided that my next trap run should include an extra day to allow some hiking and exploring. That’s exactly what I planned for this visit, with two nights of camping bracketing a full day of hiking. The approach to the park is, in itself, spectacular, starting with a steep drop off the plateau and an expansive vista of the valley below—the highway leading to the park appearing as a thin, straight line between the massively tall canyon walls on either side.
Queen Hwy approach to Dog Canyon, Guadalupe Mountains National Park.
A small sign at the park border announces that you are also entering the great state of Texas!
A Texas welcome!
To our surprise, the campground was deserted—a marked contrast from last time when we were lucky enough to snag the last available campsite as Saturday night walk-ins. I can’t say I was disappointed, as that was my only real complaint about my previous visit. We weren’t totally alone, however—Kitty quickly stopped by to see us, at once skittish yet desperately wanting affection (and probably food). Of course, insect collecting is not allowed in a national park without a permit, so this visit was strictly for observing and (hopefully) lots of photographs. Both of these began shortly after we finished dinner (including Kitty, who scored a couple of sardines) and dusk had settled over the canyon when several large male Prionus californicus flew by at our campsite.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Cerambycidae) at dusk in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Afterwards, we decided to walk the gravel road through the campground and back past the state line to the paved highway in hopes of seeing snakes and other critters. We saw no snakes, but we say plenty of other critters—Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae), a couple of Omorgus sp. (carcass beetles—family Trogidae), Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae), a juvenile tarantula (likely Aphonopelma sp.—family Theraphosidae), and my favorite—a couple of Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae).
Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Omorgus sp. (skin beetle—family Trogidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aphonopelma sp. (family Theraphosidae) juvenile on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Amblycheila picolominii on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
We also saw numerous tenebrionid beetles in diversity far too great to photograph as well as two species of toads.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Great Plains toad (Anaxyrus cognatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Smile for the camera!
The most puzzling observation of the evening was two large ants apparently locked in tug-of-war combat—each momentarily gaining momentum and then just as quickly losing it to the other in a back-and-forth seesaw battle. Perhaps our local formicid specialist James Trager can shed light on this observation. Edit: James writes:
This looks like a couple of major workers of Camponotus sp. tussling at a territorial boundary of two colonies. These look like and might be C. americanus, but I’m frankly not sure about the ID from that location, without looking at specimens.
Camponotus sp. (carpenter ants—family Formicidae) playing “tug-of-war” on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Day 6
Bush Mountain Trail Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Today’s plan was to spend the first part of the morning relaxing with coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes, then hike up Bush Mountain to Marcus Overlook. Gaining nearly 1000 feet in just under three miles, it would be enough of a challenge for either one of us, especially considering how slow Rich and I tend to be on our hikes due to constantly stopping to look at things.
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
As we passed through the grasslands beyond the horse corrals, we started seeing one of my favorite tiger beetles—Cicindelidia obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle). The first two we saw were black, suggesting they were assignable to the nominate subspecies, but then we saw a green individual (that I got barely close enough for a crappy photo) which suggests subspecies C. o. santaclarae—a subspecies I’ve never seen in the field before and this spot surely on the eastern edge of its distribution (perhaps in an intergrade zone with nominate C. obsoletus). Perhaps in the morning before we leave I’ll go back and see if I can get a more acceptable photograph.
Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae (Santa Clara grassland tiger beetle) on clay trail through montane grassland.
For a while the trail was not too steep as it followed a rocky wash, and most of the herbaceous plants were just beginning to produce new foliage (late June seems to me like an awful late start to the season!). As we ascended the mountain, the habitat turned from pinyon/juniper/oak woodland to alpine grassland with large ponderosa pines dotting the steep hillsides. The ascent was quite steep in places, causing us to stop frequently; however, our reward for doing so was the chance to take our eyes off our feet and instead admire the expansive vistas sprawling before us!
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
About halfway up I noticed what must have been a webbed-over (and thus occupied) tarantula burrow—my second tarantula burrow after having never seen one in my emite life.
Apparently occupied tarantula burrow in montane grassland.
Along a ridge near the top we found a very colorfully marked juvenile greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi—the first horned lizard that I’ve seen in the field that was not a Texas horned lizard (P. cornutum).
Rare shade along the middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi) on limestone trail through montane grassland.
The best find of the day, however, was the least expected—several tiger beetles whose identity I did not recognize and which proved to be Cicindelidia laetipennis! This particular population was, until very recently, considered a subspecies of C. politula (limestone tiger beetle) that was endemic to the Guadeloupe Mountains (C. p. petrophila—rock loving tiger beetle) and characterized by extreme variability in coloration despite its very small geographic range. Indeed, the two individuals I managed to get close enough to photograph (thanks to my new cell phone’s zoom function!) showed part of this variability—one being bright coppery-red and the other almost greenish. Molecular analysis, however, has shown that the population is instead conspecific with C. laetipennis, which was until then considered restricted to Mexico. Whether an endemic subspecies of a more common species or a distinct phenotype of a Mexican species, it was a thrill for me to see in the field for the first time.
View from hairpin turn on middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Cicindelidia laetipennis (formerly C. politula petrophila—family Cicindelidae) on limestone trail through montane grassland. This individual is quite red.
Another individual of Cicindelidia laetipennis, this one decidedly greenish.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of limestone habitat for Cicindelidia laetipennis in montane grassland.
At Marcus Overlook, we enjoyed a bit of a food and rest while viewing the expanse of mountains further west and south in the park, thankful that such immensely wild, unspoiled places still exist. The hike back down was more about the destination than the experience—the careful footing required to navigate the at times steep grades keep our eyes mostly on our feet, and by the time we reached our campsite at mid-afternoon we were ready for some rest, food, and rehydration!
View of Guadalupe Mountains from Marcus Overlook.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Neither decision worked out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed (despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm), so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning, and when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove the road anyway and found a trailhead parking area just before the entrance that looked interesting enough to explore. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed recent rains, but there was no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs further lowered our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico On the way back, I had an idea—stop by the traps I’d serviced the previous day on Klondike Gap Rd (not too far off the main highway) and see if they were beginning to pull anything in. I checked only the bottle trap and the SRW/EtOH traps, and both had fresh catch—Acmaeodera in the former and Euphoria in the latter. Of course, I was hoping (but did not expect) to see Purpuricenus opacus, and though I did not see it after 24 short hours I remain optimistic that it will come to the traps in the next few weeks. While we were there, I noticed a particular oak tree (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe) alongside the road. Something about it said “Beat me!”, so I went back and got the beating sheet out of the car, beat another oak on the way back to the tree without seeing anything, and in the first whack of the tree I got Chrysobothris axillaris—an oak associate that I’ve only seen in west Texas. Of course, that motivated me to starting beating other oaks, but I never saw another beetle. Certainly not a productive stop, but at least getting C. axillaris made it worth the effort.
Agave havardiana (Harvard’s century plant—family Agavaceae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas This being our last evening in the park, we brought out the bison steaks for a celebratory dinner, and they were quite good despite having to be cooked in a skillet over my tiny stove (no charcoal grills allowed!). Perhaps the “dirty skillet” imparted some flavor. Kitty joined the celebration, scoring four sardines for dinner instead of just two! Afterwards once darkness had settled, we walked the roads again hoping to see snakes and other crawlies, but there was far less on the roads this time compared to last night, with two notable exceptions—a Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae), and a large male Prionus californicus (California prionid—family Cerambycidae), both on the trunks of the massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana) that dot the campground. Perhaps the cooler and more blustery conditions had things hunkering down.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Before turning in for the night, I started to hike the short (0.6 mi) Meadow Nature Trail. I’d made it about halfway around when I decided that hiking the trail on a moonless night by myself was not such a bright idea and turned around. I really got spooked on the way back out when I saw two glowing eyes not far away but breathed a sigh of relief when their owner turned out to be a mule deer, who was equally spooked by my approach and bolted, crashing away through the darkness.
Day 7
I normally dislike mornings that we have to break camp and move on—I’d rather relax for an hour or so and enjoy a cup (or two) of French press coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes. Today was supposed to be such a day, but I negotiated with Rich to delay our departure until mid-morning to give the grassland tiger beetles (Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae) that we saw beginning yesterday’s hike a chance to become active again so I could try for better photographs. The coffee tasted good this morning, and three wild turkeys strutting nonchalantly through our campsite made my leisure hour just that much more enjoyable. Once it warmed up a bit, I went to the corrals where we’d seen them before—nothing! We decided to go ahead and break camp, then go back and check again after we were all packed up—nothing! This was puzzling, since we were there at the time we’d seen them the day before. All I can say is figuring out insects is hard—especially in the West, and if I live to be 100 I don’t think I’ll ever fully figure them out. With that, we said our goodbyes to Dog Canyon—I truly look forward to coming back!
Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo) strolling through our campsite.
It was a long drive between Eddy Co. and our first collecting spot of the day, and we stupidly made it even longer by going all the way back to Roswell to restock on groceries for the coming week. While we were there, we decided to each lunch at a restaurant instead of out of the car—further adding to our travel time (but the burritos from Burrito Express were so good!). The last leg from Roswell to near Mayhill was—like last time—the worst, with temperatures soaring up to 100°F and the landscape providing so very little of interest.
Carr Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico We arrived at about 4:30 pm—still plenty of time to collect and, if we didn’t like what we saw, move on, and we were happy that the higher elevation was providing some temperature relief. We had come to this spot last time based on a prior record of a rather fine buprestid species (Buprestis prospera) from the area, but it was bone dry at the time and we moved on without even getting out of the vehicle. Conditions seemed much better this time, but still I saw no pinyon pine (the larval host) to inspect—and certainly no dead ones to chop into. We were here, however, and decided to give it a shot. I did find a few small dead Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper), but beating them produced only a single Anomoea sp. (likely an incidental association). The scrub oaks (not sure which Quercus species they represent) as well were leafing out nicely, but sweeping them produced only a smattering of Chrysomelidae (leaf beetles), Elateridae (click beetles), and Curculionidae (weevils)—no Buprestidae (jewel beetles) or Cerambycidae (longhorned beetles). A dry creekbed ran through the area, and I noticed rather lush growth of grassy vegetation in and alongside the creekbed. Recalling that I’d swept such growth along the roadside in nearby Mayhill a few years ago and got a series of Taphrocerus schaefferi, I began sweeping. This was much more productive—each sweeping pass produced one or two Taphrocerus (will need to examine closely to determine if they also represent T. schaefferi, also that is likely), and by the time I finished I had a nice little series of around eight individuals. Checking back with Rich, neither he nor I were seeing much else of interest, so we decided to continue on to the next locality near Cloudcroft.
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico The threatening clouds that had just started appearing as we were leaving the previous spot developed into full-blown rain showers as we continued up the mountains to Cloudcroft. Just as quickly as they had come, however, they abated and we arrived to this spot under broken clouds and cool early evening temps. Of all the locations where I had placed traps, my expectations were lowest for this one due to its combination of high elevation (nearly 9000’) and dense, coniferous forests (wine-based baits typically do not attract beetles associated with conifers). I went ahead and placed traps here, however, because 1) I already had several sets at lower elevation woodlands, 2) the presence here of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak)—a high elevation oak that could be hosting a variety of interesting beetle species, and 3) perhaps the ethanol component of the bait might still attract conifer associates. What I found was completely unexpected—all three traps contained several species of Cerambycidae, none of which I immediately recognized to species! The most abundant species appears to be a large, blonde lepturine, and there was also a smaller Stenocorus sp. as well as a few even smaller species that will require closer examination to identify. I was happy to see all three traps not only still hanging, but also with a little bit of bait still in the bottle and the propylene glycol in the reservoirs not completely dried out. This is in contrast to the traps at all the other lower-elevation localities, which exhibited bone-dry bait bottles and little to no propylene glycol remaining in the reservoir. The thought occurred to me that perhaps the reason these traps were so much more productive was because they remained attractive for the entire one-month period following their placement, while traps at other localities dried up after two or three weeks and failed to attract beetles during the latter part of the period—potentially after beetles had begun to appear in numbers. On the other hand, the very different habitats could also easily explain such a difference. As for the traps, expectedly the SRW/EtOH trap had the largest catch volume, the EtOH-only trap had the smallest (though still good numbers and variety of beetles), and the SRW-only trap volume was in between. Sadly, the white bottle trap was not only pulled out of the ground but completely missing—I can only guess that one of the many hikers that pass through the area saw it and couldn’t resist their inner vandal. The lateness of the hour precluded much further collecting, but I noticed a couple of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on flowers of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). Based on locality and their dark coloration, they should represent the subspecies A. c. pseudotsugae—unlike the bright green individuals of the nonimate subspecies found further west in California.
Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
There were lots of other plants of various types in bloom, suggesting that a return to this spot with sunny conditions might be warranted. It also convinced me that I should replace the bottle trap here (using the one I retrieved from Mescalero Sands), given the uniqueness of this locality—I’ll just need to find a more secluded spot to place it.
Upper Karr Canyon Campground Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico During my last visit with Mike, we camped at Lower Karr Canyon Recreation Area on the west side of the mountains below Cloudcroft. It was a nice place to camp but with no table or restroom. This time, Rich and I decided to try Upper Karr Canyon, and boy were we impressed—high elevation (9350’!) with a spacious campground and, most importantly, tables! There were other people in the campground, but everyone was spaced so far apart that it still felt private—at least, until the toddler in the next campsite had a meltdown and woke the infant, who himself then had a meltdown! It was dark by then, so I decided to take a walk to look for night-active critters and hoped that the frazzled parents would manage to get things under control by the time I returned. I saw lots of tenebrionids, of course, but also far more Carabidae (ground beetles) than I typically see out west—perhaps because of the high elevation. Nothing, however, warranted placement in my bottle, so I returned to a (thankfully) quiet campground and admired the amazing starscape in the sky above in the time before the waning gibbous moon began rising in the east.
Becoming acquainted with “aliens” that we encountered this morning in Roswell.
Oenothera flava (yellow evening primrose—family Onagraceae) flowering at night in alpine coniferous forest.
Our tent illuminated beneath the night sky.
Day 8
I was tempted to do a bit of collecting before we broke camp—Cicindela purpurea (pasture tiger beetles) were flitting amongst clay exposures in the campground, and Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper) serenaded us with their snap-crackle-popping flights. We decided instead to break camp anyway and head back to Switchback Trailhead.
Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper—family Acrididae) in alpine coniferous forest.
Mexican Canyon Trestle—the last of 49 such trestles built in 1899 to transport timber from the Sacramento Mountains.
View from Mexican Canyon Overlook. White Sands National Moniment can be seen in the distance.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico After a quick stop at Mexican Canyon Overlook (I actually made it to the far end of the cantilever lookout deck!), we went back to Switchback Trailhead so we could get a better look than allowed by our quick trap check stop the previous evening. This included examining the variety of flowers and sweeping the large patches of mature Gambel oaks in hopes of finding the recently described Brachys rileyi. I also wanted to reset a new bottle trap to replace the one that was stolen, except this time I hid the trap in an exposed area inside a large patch of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). I barely got the trap set when I noticed more Anthaxia on the flowers and collected a nice series of what I now believe are two species—A. (Haplanthaxia) caseyi pseudotsugae (due to its dark coloration) and A. (Melanthaxia) expansa (due to the two pronotal impressions). I went back to the car to get my long-handled net for sweeping the Gambel oak and found nearby a stand of Ratibida columnifera (Mexican hat) with more Anthaxia plus Acmaeoderavariegata on the flowers. Sweeping the Gamble oak was disappointing—no Buprestidae of any kind, much less B. rileyi, but I did collect a small variety of other beetles including a very tiny adult of what must be Neoclytus irroratus. I was about to go back and see if Rich was having any luck when I spotted a large flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry). My long-handled net came in very handy, as I was able to seep the flowers high up out of normal reach. The first tree yielded what I suspect is Agrilaxia arizonae, and after sweeping the four different tree in the area I collected two more adults. I’m not aware of the occurrence of this species east of western New Mexico, so we will have to see how it compares to the very similar species A. texana. The last plant was very close to one of my bait traps (SRW-only bait)—I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peak and was happy to see a lepturine longhorn already in the trap. It was the smaller, darker species that I thought yesterday was a species of Stenocorus, and a little bit of internet sleuthing revealed it to be the very local and uncommonly collected S. copei—a very nice species that I have never collected before! Now I am even more excited about the trap results from this spot and am anxious to see what they trap in the next couple of months. (I also sleuthed the larger yellow species and believe it is Centrodera spurca [yellow Douglas-fir borer]—not an especially rare species, but one that I have never collected and this population representing one that is interestingly disjunct from the main population in the Pacific Coast states.)
Stenocorus copei (family Cerambycidae) taken in sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in Quercus gambelii (Gamble oak) along margin of alpine coniferous forest.
In the meantime, Rich learned from a passing Forest Service worker that a small protected area for the Sacramento Mountains checkerspot butterfly (Euphydryas anicia cloudcrofti), currently proposed for listing on the endangered species list, could be found just up the road. Rich had to promise that we were not interested in collecting the butterflies before the worker agreed to tell him where the caged butterfly food plots were located, so we went up to take a look at them.
Bailey Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico While Rich examined the food plots (he did not see either larvae or adults), I examined the flowers alongside the road, collecting more Acmaeodera variegata and Anthaxia spp. of the flowers of Hymenoxys hoopsii (owlsclaws) and Achillea millefolium (common yarrow).
Acmaeodera variegata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenoxys hoopesii (owlsclaws) in alpine coniferous forest.
There were several additional flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry), but sweeping the flowers produced no additional Agrilaxia. Nothing else sparked our interest, so we then headed to Trestle Depot Recreation Area in nearby Cloudcroft.
Trestle Recreation Area Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico This little picnic spot caught my eye when I was here last month, looking like it might be good for a quick stop and look around. Musk thistle (Carduus nutans) in flower along the roadside may be an exotic invasive plant, but the flowers attracting a variety of butterflies were of immediate interest to Rich. I looked as well to see if there were any beetles on the flowers, but there were not and so went back to the picnic area. Immediately I spotted a freshly dead Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and walked toward it. As I approached, I saw two Buprestis lyrata adults on the trunk—one of which flew off as I spotted them and the other I caught. I checked the trunk carefully to see if there were others, and failing to find any I checked out a nearby cut Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) stump. I suspected, however, that the first one would eventually come back to the tree, and when I returned it was there. It was too high to reach, however, so I found a long dead stick, placed the loop of my net right beneath it, and used the tip of the stick to cause it to drop into the net. I would catch two more adults this way on successive returns to the tree, and while these would be my only specimens from the visit I was quite happy to have found them.
Buprestis lyrata (pink-faced jewel beetle—false Buprestidae) collected on trunk of freshly dead Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas fir) in alpine coniferous forest.
“Point of Sands” Otero County, New Mexico By the time we finished up at Trestle Depot, it was mid-afternoon and I wanted to show Rich “Point of Sands” where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. I’ve collected some very nice Buprestidae associated with Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s joint-fir) on previous visits (Acmaeodera recticollis and Sphaerobothris ulkei), but last month when I visited here with Mike it was bone dry with very little in flight. This time, it was not only bone dry, but also 108°F—seriously! We were here, and I didn’t want to assume that we would find nothing, but for the first 20 minutes it felt like we were walking in an oven. Somehow, I adapted and the heat stopped bothering me, and when I found a male cicada (Diceroprocta eugraphica) singing in an Atriplex canescens (four-wing saltbush) I was motivated to continue looking to see if something else might be out. This was the case, although it was limited to cicadas at the far south end of the stop—a female Hadoa townsendii on the old fruiting stalk of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca), and a female D. eugraphica on A. canescens, both of which cooperated for photos nicely.
Hadoa townsendii (family Cicadidae) on old fruit stem of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca) at edge of white sand dune.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) on Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush) at edge of white sand dune.
Rich had long ago returned to the car to cool off in the air conditioning but then became worried when I went out of view and didn’t return shortly—I’d just started heading back to the car as I saw him coming to look for me! We both decided that we’d had enough of 108°F temperatures and continued on to our next destination, the fantastically beautiful Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument!
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The ascent up into the Organ Mountains is among the most spectacular of any—tall dried stalks of sotol give the slopes a “brushy” appearance in front of sharp, jagged peaks.
Sotol-covered hillsides at lower elevations.
The campground itself is also gorgeous; however, beauty is one thing—the presence of insect activity is another, and the parched-looking, still-quite-warm landscape (though nothing like the oven that we encountered at the previous stop) had us wondering if it would even be worth staying one night, much less the two that we had planned. I suggested spending a little bit of time beating the local vegetation—if I found beetles we would stay, but if not (as I fully expected), we would go back to Upper Karr Canyon to enjoy another night at its high, deliciously cool elevation and then head north in the morning to search for “greener pastures.”
View from our campsite in Aguirre Springs Campground.
I got out the beating sheet and whacked the branch of a nearby hackberry, and to my surprise onto the sheet fell an Agrilus sp. (in fact, I was so surprised that I’d neglected to ready my aspirator and the damn thing got away!). More whacks of the hackberry produced nothing, so I regarded it as a fluke and turned my attention to the gray oaks (Quercus grisea). With one whack, onto the sheet dropped two Sternidius decorus—a species I know only from Arizona, and with continued beating I collected an additional individual or two at regular intervals.
Okay, so it looked like things might be happening here—despite the very dry-looking conditions, and we went about setting up camp. Dusk settled in as we finished our dinner, and I set up not only the ultraviolet lights but also the mercury vapor lamp. To make things interesting, I also set out a prionic acid lure near the lights in case there were any Prionus beetles in the area. It didn’t take long for the first male to show up—a remarkably small P. heroicus, and over the next hour several additional, more normal-sized males showed up.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure near ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
The lights alone also began attracting Cerambycidae as soon as full darkness arrived—many individuals of Methia mormona showed up, but so did other species such as Hypexilis sp. and what I take to be a species of Elaphidiini.
Methia mormona (family Cerambycidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Chrysina gloriosa (glorious jewel scarab—family Scarabaeidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
A female Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) also paid a visit to the lights looking for a free meal (I never saw a female tarantula ever and then see two in five days!).
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) female at night in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Additional cerambycid individuals arrived regularly, and we would have left the lights up longer had occasional gusts and distant lightning not become blustering winds and certain rain. We got the lights taken down and put away with little time to spare, then spent the rest of the night not sleeping while high winds buffeted and heavy rain pelted the tent. (Its a good thing I got a new tent last year—my old one would not have survived!)
Day 9
La Cueva Recreation Area Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico Given the heat we experienced yesterday, we decided to do any lower elevation collecting first thing in the morning and then come back up into the mountains for the afternoon when (hopefully) the higher elevations would provide some relief. Some good species of Buprestidae have been taken by others in the vicinity of La Cueva picnic area on the other side of the mountain range, so we headed down there to take a look.
Backlit, backside peaks!
It was already hot by mid-morning as we headed out on the Arroyo Trail. Conditions were dry, but the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa) had fresh foliage and the whitethorn acacias (Vachellia constricta) even had flowers. Hackberries (Celtis reticulata) were thick along the trail, and large oaks (Q. grisea and Q. turbinella) dotted the arroyo margins. Beating, however, produced nothing—no Buprestidae, no Cerambycidae, not even Chrysomelidae. I didn’t feel like continuing to “beat” a dead horse, especially when temperatures were skyrocketing and the mountains were beckoning, so we cut bait and headed back up the slopes.
La Cueva Recreation Area.
Pine Tree Loop Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The Pine Tree Loop is purported to be a 4-mile loop with 1000 ft of ascent (all within the first two miles!). My main objective was the small leafmining buprestid Brachys rileyi, which is known only from higher elevations in New Mexico and west Texas on Gambel oak (Quercus gambelii), and it was found a few years ago along this very trail. This was not my first attempt to find the species here—I stopped by two years ago guided by that record, which had been placed on the popular citizen scientist platform iNaturalist. Unfortunately, the record was inaccurately placed at a lower elevation (below the Gambel oak zone). I (incorrectly) assumed that the host must have been misidentified and that the species had been collected instead on gray oak (it is not unusual for buprestids thought to be associated with one host to eventually be found on another) and was rather frustrated to later learn that the inaccurate placement was intentional—the beetle had been photographed after it was collected, and because the true location had (amazingly!) not been recorded, the record was instead placed at a random point somewhere near the start of the hike. I must have beaten every oak within 100 feet of that (erroneous) location—obviously without success! I have since found other examples of such “malplacements” on iNaturalist, a practice which I can only describe as sloppy at best, and I implore all iNaturalist users (especially practicing entomologists) to record the most accurate placements for observations of insects photographed later as collected specimens rather than as live individuals out in the field. Obviously, this will involve more detailed note-taking; however, accuracy is, after all, a basic tenet of science! [Now climbing down from my soapbox.]
Greeting at the beginning of the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Okay, so now knowing that the record actually came from the Gambel oak zone on the upper part of the trail, we readied ourselves to hike the trail in its entirety. The scenery grew increasingly spectacular as we ascended, during which time I beat selected trees—mostly Quercus grisea (gray oak), from which I got a lone Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on the lower slopes and a couple of Polycesta arizonica—represented in my collection until now by just a couple of specimens collected many years ago in west Texas—from a bit further up.
Lower Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Polycesta arizonica (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana), both alive and as cadavers, graced the landscape, providing both visual interest and opportunities for shade during our frequent breaks from the hot sun and the relentless ascent.
Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) cadaver along the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Ornate tree lizard (Urosaurus ornatus) on granite exposure in montane juniper/oak:pinyon woodland.
The “Old Man.” Also, an enormous Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) along Pine Tree Loop Trail! 😊
At long last, we reached the Gambel oak zone and I began beating stands near the trail in earnest. Almost immediately I add another Sternidius decorus to the series I’d gotten the previous evening, giving me hope that further beating would bring success. After only a few more minutes, a Brachys landed upside-down on my sheet! I quickly picked it up and popped it into the vial, then turned the vial until I could see the upper side. I was looking for the blue coloration with red apices to confirm its identity as B. rileyi, but instead its uniform coppery color indicated it was B. querci. Until a couple of years ago when I collected a good series of this species in the Davis Mountains of west Texas, I would have been very excited by this capture. Instead, my momentary elation turned to disappointment. Still having collected one species of Brachys gave me hope that I would still find the other, but that would not be the case—continued beating of Gambel oak was fruitless, and even my ability to do that was cut short when a popup thunderstorm moved in and drenched everything (including us!). I will admit that we welcomed the break in temperatures, as the heat and effort from the ascent had by then begun to take its toll on us, but eventually the rain moved out (creating some spectacular views as it moved across the slopes below us), and I resumed my beating.
Rain showers the northern slopes of the Organ Mountains.
For a long time nothing hit my beating sheet (except a shower of water drops, which I had to continually shake off the sheet). Just before we passed back out of the Gambel oak zone after beginning our descent, I got a sort of consolation prize—a large(-ish) sp., and as I was putting the beetle in the vial a Prionus heroicus male flew by and circled slowly back towards me to within net’s reach. Not long after, as I was beating the last of the Gambel oaks that we would see, Rich called out to me from further down on the trail saying he saw another Prionus crawling on the ground and that it had crawled under a dead log. We lifted the log (gray oak), and there she sat—the most enormous gravid female P. heroicus I’d ever seen! I wanted a photo, but she started running so I blocked her with my finger to get her to stay still. This did not work despite repeated attempts, and at one point when I became rather careless with my finger placement she gave me the most painful beetle bite I’ve ever had—bringing blood right on the most sensitive part of my fingertip! I guess giving me a good nip brought her some satisfaction, because after that she stayed put long enough for me to snap the photos I wanted. By this point, we were really feeling the combination of miles, heat, thirst, and hunger and focused on completing the rest of the descent back to the parking area, where we enjoyed a (very) late lunch and cold liquids under a table with shade!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) gravid female under fallen dead trunk of Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico When we got back to the campground, I was so drained that all I wanted to do was rest (and continue rehydrating!). But, I still had the set of jug traps (that I’d taken down from Mescalero Sands) and had decided that the juniper/oak woodland around the campground with large gray oaks could be an interesting place to set them. We’d seen very few people in the area since our arrival (apparently camping in the heat of the summer is not popular here!), but I still wanted to eliminate any chance of the traps being molested so hoofed it past the barbed-wire fence on the west side and bushwhacked across the slope to a line of large gray oaks on the other side of the ravine. The SRW-only trap was placed furthest up the slope, the SRW/EtOH trap in the ravine, and the EtOH-only trap above the ravine nearest the road. On the way back to the campsite, another P. heroicus male flew within net’s reach, which I nabbed and gave to Rich. I also watched a large, orange/black female velvet ant (family Mutillidae) crawling on the ground and soon noticed a male that must have been the same species (smaller but identical coloration) fly in, circle around, and land on the ground not far from the female. I hoped he would encounter her, but when he was within a couple of feet he suddenly took flight and disappeared—perhaps she didn’t smell right or, in fact, was not a conspecific!
Post-rain view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Spotty showers and gusty breezes prevented another night of lighting, but honestly we were both so exhausted from the day that we welcomed the opportunity to relax after dinner and catch up on our field notes.
Day 10
We enjoyed a much more restful night than previously thanks to cooler temperatures and awoke to spectacular views over the valley below. It was hard to think about turning around and heading back to the north and east, but both of us had committed to returning to St. Louis by late Friday—if we were going to keep that commitment we would have to make significant progress today. Our plan was to go back to Black Mesa in the extreme northwestern corner of Oklahoma (where we had been rained out at the beginning of the trip). At about a 7½-hour drive, we would have plenty of time to collect in the area before facing Friday’s 12-hour slog back to St. Louis. I did get a “goodbye gift” before we left—another Polycesta arizonica that was sitting on the tent as we broke camp!
Morning view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Pajarito Rest Stop Roosevelt County, New Mexico At the halfway point of the drive—approaching Tucumcari in east-central New Mexico, we decided to stop at an interstate rest stop for lunch and were pleased to find sheltered picnic tables to enjoy our meal. Afterwards, while exploring the grounds a bit (never pass up an opportunity to look for bugs!), I spotted a lidless white cooler sitting next to the fence along the back edge of the area. I don’t know what I expected to see inside of it, but when I looked I saw standing water in the bottom… and beetles! It was nothing more than a giant bowl trap! We brought the cooler back to the car, poured the contents through a sieve and rinsed before dumping out, and picked out a cerambycid (Strangalia sexnotata), two scarabs (Euphoria kernii), and a few other miscellaneous beetles (but, unfortunately, no Acmaeodera).
“Cooler trap” at Pajarito Rest Area.
Kenton Cimarron County, New Mexico As we continued northward through northeastern New Mexico, we noticed what looked like rainclouds in the distance, and checking the radar forecast showed spot thundershowers moving through the area around Black Mesa. All we could say was “Here we go again!” and spent the remaining few hours of the drive watching the clouds and constantly checking the radar updates trying to predict if rain would actually occur at our planned collecting spot—a sandstone outcropping with juniper/oak/pinyon woodland just east of the tiny town of Kenton. Rain seemed certain as we passed through Clayton—about 30 minutes south and west of Kenton—when we got drenched while making a quick pit stop, but as we neared our destination the clouds started breaking up a bit, even allowing occasional peaks of sunlight. We arrived at the spot at either 5 pm or 6 pm, depending on whether we followed Central or Mountain Time (the time zone boundary passes right through the area), and though it had rained, it was neither cool nor overly wet. I had discovered Prionus heroicus in this area a number of years ago (with the help of prionic acid lures), and given our repeated sightings of this species the previous two days, I set out lures to see if they were active in this area. Almost immediately the males started flying in, easily recognized from afar by their enormous size, peculiar waving of their hind legs while flying, and diesel engine-like sound of their flight!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) males attracted to prionic acid during late afternoon in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I collected a few to document the occurrence, but what I was most interested in doing here was beating the oaks. There are two species here, Quercus × undulata (wavylweaf oak) being the more abundant and Q. mohriana (Mohr oak) represented by sporadic individuals. I had beaten a nice series of Brachys barberi (and one B. aeruginosus) from the former last month and collected a few cerambycid-pruned branches from the latter, but beating on this day produced little. I did, however, note several additional cerambycid-pruned branches on the very same Q. mohriana from which I had collected them last month, which I bundled for rearing, and beating the living branches produced a single Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata.
Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Perhaps an incidental association.)
Also from Q. mohriana, I beat a large, impress caterpillar that I soon decided must be one of the Hemileuca spp. (sheep and buck moths—family Saturniidae). The only species known from the area is H. oliviae (range sheep moth), but it clearly did not look match images of that species, so Rich decided to see if he could rear the caterpillar to adulthood and collected foliage from the tree to provide additional food until it pupated. [Edit: The host, location, and gestalt (especially the reddish dorsal coloration between the segments) suggest it is Hemileuca grotei diana (Grote’s buck moth). Apparently this species has not yet recorded from Oklahoma, but the location in far northwest corner is very close to several Colorado records, and the species also occurs in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Rich also wrote the following update on his attempts to rear the caterpillar to adulthood:
The caterpillar made it home safely. I put the caterpillar in a large jar with cactus soil, and some of the oak leaves I collected off the bush where it was collected. For the next three days, it fed on the leaves at night and left lots of frass behind. During the day, it remained motionless on the dirt. Since last night, the caterpillar has not moved which could mean that it has died or is parasitized. It may also be taking its time to form a pupa. This is what I am hoping for.]
Hemileucagroteidiana (Grote’s buck moth—family Saturniidae) caterpillar beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I continued beating the oaks but found only a few weevils on Q. × undulata before turning back to look around the flats around the parking area. Along the way, I noted a lone Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) along the roadside, from which I beat a single Agrilus. Its chunky size and coppery color had me fooled until I realized it was a stray A. sapindi—normally associated with Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry). I’m not aware of the occurrence of soapberry at this particular spot, but it is common at nearby Black Mesa State Park and likely also occurs in other closer areas.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) beaten from Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Must be an incidental association.)
Checking the flats around the parking area, I found not only Moneilema armatum on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla), but also Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger).
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
After taking photos of the latter, I noticed a large beetle crawling on the ground and realized it was a female P. heroicus—only the second female of this species I’ve seen (the first being only one day earlier at Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument). This brings me to an idea I have about attraction to pheromones in Prionus beetles—released by females (none of which fly to my knowledge) to attract males (which are powerful fliers). The use of prionic acid pheromone lures has greatly facilitated the collection of male Prionus beetles (all species of Prionus appear to be attracted to prionic acid); however, I have also collected females of several species (P. arenarius, P. fissicornis, P. integer, and—now—P. heroicus) while using prionic acid lures to collect male Prionus. In each case, I found the females walking on the ground in the general direction of the lures, suggesting to me that they may be “cheaters”—i.e., rather than producing and releasing their own pheromone, they detect pheromone being released by another female and walk towards the source in hopes of “stealing” a male. If this is true, the energetic cost of producing/releasing pheromone must be sufficiently high to allow cheaters to persist in the population. In today’s case as well, the female was walking in the general direction of the lure from a distance of about 60 meters. It would be interesting to test this hypothesis experimentally (but it will be up to someone else to do this). On the way back to the car, I collected one more M. armatum—this one on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus).
Moneilema armatum (family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Rich came back to the car about the same time, so I checked in with him to see how he had done. He gave me an Acmaeodera (prob. A. mixta/immaculata) that he’d collected on the flower of Pediomelum tenuiflorum (slimflower scurfpea) and wanted to walk back down the gravel road to check for other flowers. I accompanied him, beating oaks along the way without success (but seeing a very impressive Climaciella brunnea—brown wasp mantidfly) until, finally, a B. barberi from Q. mohriana near the bottom of the hill landed on my sheet.
Climaciella brunnea (brown wasp mantidfly—family Mantispidae) beaten from Quercus×undulata (wavyleaf oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
By then it was getting close to dusk, but I hadn’t yet checked the dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) from which I’d beaten two new state records (Oeme rigida deserta and Haplidus testaceus) on my visit here last month. I was keen to see what else might be on the tree a month later and, amazingly, got two more new state records this time as well: Buprestis laeviventris beaten from a branch, and a dead Monochamus clamator clamator (spotted pine sawyer) female stuck on the trunk.
Buprestislaeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. This represents yet another new state record for the area.
Monochamus clamator clamator (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. Two new state records on one tree (again!)?
These would be the last insects that I would collect on the trip, and what a final duo they were! On the way back to the car, I picked up a couple of cerambycid-pruned branches of Q. × undulata that I had set aside earlier for rearing. It will be interesting to see if it is the same species that is pruning the two oak species (Q. × undulata and Q. mohriana). With dusk approaching and us still needing to get to the state park and setup camp, we decided that three hours of collecting at the final spot was a good way to close out 10 straight days of collecting!
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, New Mexico Our “favorite” campsite in the park was unavailable—in fact, the entire West Canyon campground was closed due to installation of a new dump station for the nearby RV campground. As an alternative, we secured a spot at the nearby Lake Etling Campground. I’ve never stayed there because there are no toilets, but the sites are much larger and come with shelters over the picnic tables—something that would have come in handy during my several previous visits with rain. Site #24, in particular—located at the far end of the campground, nestled up against a low cliff, and well out of sight from the rest of the campground, may well now be my new favorite campsite at the park.
Charcoal “fireworks”!
After enjoying a celebratory rib-eye steak dinner, I walked the roads hoping to see night-active beetles. Unfortunately, the same rains that killed the possibility of setting up the lights also apparently kept the beetles holed up, and I saw nothing. It occurred to me then that this was my tenth visit to the park in the past three years, and it has rained on six of those visits! So much for western Oklahoma being a “dry” place!
A final campfire!
Day 11
The drive from Black Mesa to St. Louis was predictably boring and unfulfilling. Normally I would eschew interstates and divided highways in favor of backroads, but at 12 hours even on the quickest route I had to bite the bullet. At least we did not have to get out of the car while the hottest temperatures of the trip (111°F!) settled over us, and the memories of the trip will feed my souls for a long time to come.
The highest temperature of the trip—111°F! Thankfully, this occurred during the drive home!
It’s my birthday, and as I’ve done almost every year of my adult life I did my first “real” collecting trip of the season. Since we’re down in Florida visiting Madam’s sister, I was especially excited for the chance to see new ground and hopefully find a few Florida specialties. The day started by getting up early to watch a spectacular full-moonset over the ocean—something I’ve never seen before.
Full moon over the Gulf of Mexico.
Nearing the horizon.
Touchdown!
I then headed up to the Citrus Wildlife Management Area of Withlacoochee State Forest to hook up with fellow beetle enthusiast (and soon-to-be book chapter coauthor) Kyle Schnepp from the Florida State Collection of Arthropods. Although Kyle and I have previously met at society meetings, it was our first time in the field together, and I was keen to take advantage of his local expertise to help me in my quest for Florida-endemic species. The habitat was dry oak/pine sandhill woodland with a grassy understory dotted with Opuntia australis (Florida pricklypear cactus)—itself an endemic plant.
Opuntia australis (Florida pricklypear cactus).
Temperatures were comfortably cool starting out due to an overnight cold front (who knew there was such a thing in Florida?), and I was filled with anticipation as I arrived at the meeting point and prepared my gear and greeted Kyle and his two companions shortly afterwards. I’d hoped to encounter Brachys leafminers, and we beat the oaks, both Quercus laevis (turkey oak) and Q. geminata (sand oak), exhaustively in search of such, but none were found. At one point, I pulled out the telescoping tropics net to see if I would have better luck accessing the upper canopy, but I had no better luck. Through it all, however, I did get a few other miscellaneous beetles and treehoppers on the former and the same on the latter along with an Anthaxia sp. Kyle also collected a Mastogenius sp. on the latter, which I hoped to encounter as well but never did, while his companions encountered single specimens of Agrilus rubroniger (a very nice find—I have but a single specimen that I collected in southwestern Missouri) and Chrysobothris chrysoela. I continued to beat the oaks but increasingly turned my attention to other things, including the pricklypears. The flowers were closed at first (due either to the morning hour or cool temperatures), but peeling back the petals I encountered a mating pair of Trichiotinus rufobrunneus (Florida flower scarab)—a Florida specialty!—plus one of the smaller, more widespread Trichiotinus lunulatus.
Trichiotinus rufobrunneus (Florida flower scarab—family Scarabaeidae) on flower of Opuntia australis (Florida pricklypear cactus).
I pulled the petals back on a few other flowers but didn’t see anything, then encountered a fallen dead branch of Pinus clausa (sand pine). Carefully lifting and turning over the branch revealed a Chrysobothris cribraria on the branch underside—just the second buprestid of the day for me. I then ran into Kyle again, who mentioned he’d seen a Mecas sp. on a grass stem, so I began sweeping the more open areas where the grasses—still mostly last season’s dried growth—and found two in my very first pass. These proved to be the largely endemic Mecasfemoralis! I would continue to sweep grasses as I traversed the open areas of the woodland, eventually collecting a nice series of 12–15 specimens. As I was sweeping, I noticed isolated plants of the endemic Lupinis ocalensis (Ocala lupine) and, on the foliage of one, a mating pair of lixine weevils that proved to be the endemic Scaphomorphus subcylindricus.
Scaphomorphus subcylindricus (family Curculionidae)—on foliage of Lupinis ocalensis (Ocala lupine).
I continued to the south side of the road where I’d earlier seen the pricklypears in hopes of finding the flowers now open. Such was the case, and in addition to further specimens of T. rufobrunneus I also encountered Acmaeodera ornata and Strangalia strigosa—the latter yet another Florida specialty that I’d not previously encountered.
Strangalia strigosa (family Cerambycidae).
Additional sweeping not only increased my series of M. femoralis but also turned up a mating pair of Typocerus zebra (zebra flower longhorn), while Kyle encountered a single Lycochoriolaus lateralis—apparently a mimic of lycid beetles, distasteful to predators, and yet another species I’d never encountered before. After nearly five hours, I decided to call it a day and started working my way back to the car. Along the way, I encountered a patch of Serenoa repens (saw palmetto) in flower. There was quite a bit of insect activity buzzing around the inflorescences, and a closer look revealed a variety of bees and a few Zelus longipes (milkweed assassin bugs) but few beetles of then oedemerids (false blister beetles). Then I noticed something “lycid-like” approaching the inflorescence, but something about it gave me pause. When it landed, I realized it was another L. lateralis. I was able to pick it up easily (it was not skittish as are most other longhorned beetles, perhaps because it relies on its mimicry to avoid predation), and further searching resulted in a fine series of nearly a dozen individuals, along with one more S. strigosa. Those would be the last insects collected, as beating oaks along the way back to the car still turned up nothing. I suppose I’ll need to make another trip down here if I want to collect Florida Brachys!
On the way back south (though not exactly “on the way home”), I stopped off at the Richloam Wildlife Management Area of Withlacoochee State Forest. Unlike the dry sandhill forest I’d just visited in the Citrus unit, the habitat here is wet sand forest. I was hoping to find stands of sedges (family Cyperaceae—usually found in and along wetlands) that I could sweep in the hopes of finding species of Taphrocerus—a genus of Buprestidae whose North American fauna I’ve been slowly revising over the years. These so-called “sedgy-wedgies” mine the leaves of various species of sedges, and there are still a few species of the genus that I haven’t yet myself collected—including the endemic T. floridanus. Kyle had recommended a location where I might find such sedges, which were abundant along the roadside. I swept them thoroughly, but to no avail.
As I was sweeping, a truck stopped and the driver called out to me and said “I just wanted to let you know I’ve already seen four or five good-sized rattlers here!” I thanked the man for his warning—though in reality I very well may have seen more rattlers in my lifetime than him. The man lingered as I returned to what I was doing—seemingly disappointed or surprised that his warning didn’t result in my immediate withdrawal. I suppose he was expecting me to run back to the car screaming like a little girl who’d just seen a spider. I was actually really hoping to see a rattler afterwards and was disappointed that I did not. The forest at this point was impenetrable, so I walked about a quarter-mile down the roadside, checking the flowers of Rosa palustris (swamp rose) along the way and being surprised to not see a single beetle—or any other insect, for that matter—upon them. In fact, the only insects I saw on anything were two very large “caterpillars”—actually larvae of Cimbex americanus (elm sawfly), a primitive wasp—on Salix caroliniana (Carolina willow).
Cimbex americanus (elm sawfly—family Cimbicidae) on Salix caroliniana (Carolina willow).
I crossed the road to walk the other side and soon ran into an Ilex cassine (dahoon holly) tree in full flower that was leaning over the roadside.
Ilex cassine (dahoon holly).
I saw a mating pair of Lyconotus lateralis (family Lycidae) on the flowers—their presence alerting me to the possibility of finding their longhorned beetle mimic, Elytroleptus floridanus. Despite finding perhaps a dozen lycid beetles, I found no E. floridanus. Another holly tree further up the road also hosted lycids but no longhorned beetles.
Lyconotus lateralis (family Lycidae) on flowers of Ilex cassine (dahoon holly).
Continuing a quarter-mile the other way past the car and further sweeping of sedges along the way back to the car was fruitless, and the lateness of the hour told me my insect collecting activities for the day had finally come to an end. Neverthess, I was content with series of several nice beetle species in my bottles, including a few true Florida specialities, and made my way back home.
For the first time in many months I was able to join the WGNSS (Webster Groves Nature Study Society) Botany Group on their regular Monday field trip (my frenetic bug collecting schedule and travel w/ Madam during this past summer had made this all but impossible). I wish I could have joined the group this summer, as that is when all the good stuff to see is out, but off-season botany is still fun, and the chance to test my ID skills with other experts only adds to the fun (not to mention just socializing as a group). St. Joe State Park is one of my favorites, and the Farmington Trailhead is a hidden gem that gets us away from the traffic of the park’s more popular bike loop and especially the grating noise of the ORV area.
The weather today was spectacular—almost too warm (I prefer a crisp, cool, sunny day for fall hiking), but the warm temps did have a bonus: a wealth of insects, some of which are not commonly encountered and one that I’ve never seen before. But, this was a botany outing, so I spent much of the time reinforcing my winter identification skills of the native warm-season grasses that grow in abundance along the paved trail that slices through the dry-mesic oak/pine forest. Little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), and witch grass (Panicum capillare) were common, as expected, and although all three are common species it was good to see them together as a reminder of their distinguishing characters: little bluestem with its small, curved seed-heads exposed along the stem, big bluestem with its “turkey foot” terminal seed-heads, and Indian grass with its robust, solid terminal spike of a seed-head. However, a number of other grasses were present that tested our skills (good thing we had Alan with us to help us out). Broomsedge (Andropogon virginicus) was abundant along the trail, resembling little bluestem but with its seed-heads guarded by elongated bracts and a bit more “yellowish” rather than reddish in color. We also saw a few plants of a less common relative, Elliott’s bluestem (Andropogon gyrans), its exaggerated bracts surrounding the terminal seed-heads and resembling the inflorescence of a bird-of-paradise (I think this is a very attractive grass that would look nice in native plantings). In the lower areas we found river oats (Chasmanthium latifolium), their distinctive flattened seed-heads ripe brown on still green leafy stems, colonizing drainages along and inside the woodlands, and a single patch of rock muhly grass (Muhlenbergia sobolifera) was also seen inside the woodland.
Insects made their appearance early on this warm fall day—catching up with the group at the beginning of the hike (I was a few minutes late, led astray by Google maps!), I encountered a Blackburn’s earth-boring beetle (Geotrupes blackburnii) on the trail—fall seems to be the time of year when I encounter these and their close relative, the splendid earth-boring beetle (G. splendidus), most commonly, and on the return trip at the end of the hike I found another one in almost exactly the same spot!
In between, we found some rather fresh scats on the trail (likely coyote) that were covered with broad-headed bugs (family Alydidae). To the chagrin of the others, I poked and prodded the scats to reveal several tiny dung beetles (Onthophagus sp.) underneath [2023-110b], and there were a few more on the scats when we looked again on the return, as well as another Blackburn’s earth-boring beetle. As we continued near the furthest point of our trip along the trail, I spotted a large, standing, dead shortleaf pine (Pinus echinata) in the forest not far from the trail. I hiked over to it hoping to find Rhagium inquisitor longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae), which by now should have molted to adults in preparation for hibernating through winter in their circular, frass-lined pupal cells beneath the bark. The bark was intact but loose—perfect conditions for finding the beetles, but peeling back the first piece revealed something else—two adult Microtomus purcis assassin bugs (family Reduviidae). They dropped immediately and scrambled to hide under the leaf litter, but I persisted in chasing one of them until it tired of the chase and let me take a few shots.
Microtomus purcis (assassin bug—family Reduviidae), originally found under loose bark of large, standing, dead Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine) in dry-mesic, upland oak/pine forest.
At our furthest point along the trail, we saw something truly remarkable—a stream of ants crossing through trail (not in itself remarkable), and among them was an obvious queen heavily flanked by a gaggle of workers. According to resident ant-expert James Trager, these are Neivamyrmex nigrescens, one of two army ant species in the state, relocating their colony (the first time I have ever witnessed such an event). In warmer months, they do this before dawn for about two weeks out of every month; however, at this time of year the emigrations become morning affairs when it’s warm enough and cease altogether when it gets reliably cold. I struggled to get a passingly acceptable photo of the queen and her swiftly moving gang of supporters, but the memory will remain with me nonetheless.
Neivamyrmex nigrescens queen and gaggle of workers, one of two army ant species in the state, relocating their colony.
At various points to and from, we also found the larvae of two species of longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae)—one in the stem of a small dead shortleaf pine sapling (probably one of the pine associates in the tribe Acanthocinini, perhaps Astylopsis sexguttata), and a twig pruner (Anelaphus parallelus) that had just cut the distal portion of the oak stem within which it was boring. In both cases, we located the larvae inside the stems and discussed the ways to recognize their presence within them. Finally, we found a small common eastern bumble bee (Bombus impatiens) male torpidly walking on the trail. This is the latest-flying of our midwestern species, but according to resident bee-expert Mike Arduser, “this is REALLY late!” He suspected there may have been a nest nearby since the male was not too beat up despite the lateness of the season. Having gotten our fill of grasses and bugs, the group then partook in a favorite post-activity tradition—lunch at a local restaurant!
Bombus impatiens (common eastern bumble bee—family Apidae) male in mesic riparian oak/hickory forest.
Beetles In The Bush 