6 Oct 2025—Fall continues to advance in the St. Louis area, and despite very dry conditions during the past two months the fall bloomers continue to make their appearance. One of the area’s most reliable and interesting places to see fall blooms is Victoria Glades south of Hillsboro, where orchids, gentians, and asters anchor a unique suite of fall-blooming plants that are rarely seen elsewhere in our mostly forested environs.
The group chose the Nature Conservancy portion of the complex to explore, as it was in the mesic forest along the riparian corridor below the glade on this side that the first of two orchids—the charmingly diminutive and seldom-seen Spiranthes ovalis (lesser ladies’ tresses)—was expected to be seen in bloom. Despite having recently taken GPS coordinates for the plants, it took several minutes of the group scouring the area around the coordinates before the tiny plants were finally found. Its delicate blooms, fall flowering season, small size, presence of basal and cauline leaves at anthesis, and preference for mesic habitats all serve to identify this species. Missouri’s populations are considered var. erostella, which lack certain essential flowering organs and are, thus, self-pollinated (cleistogamous).
Spiranthes ovalis var. erostellata (lesser ladies’ tresses—family Orchidaceae).
Clambering up and out of the creek bed and onto the open glade, the group found, again with some difficulty, the second orchid we were looking for—Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses). Unlike S. ovalis, however, this species is much more commonly seen on dolomitic glades throughout the state, and there have been fall seasons at Victoria Glades featuring spectacular displays of it. Sadly, it does not appear that this will be one of those falls, almost surely because of the near absence of rain in recent months. The first two plants were found under and next to a cut eastern red-cedar, whose cadaver perhaps provided just enough protection to prevent a complete drying of the soil underneath and allowed the two plants to proceed to flowering. Of the nine species of Spiranthes presently known to occur in Missouri, S. magnicamporum is among the showiest due to its robust, often doubly helical inflorescences and relatively large flowers with spreading and arching lateral sepals. It is also among the most fragrant, with a sweetish fragrance of coumarin, which some people liken to vanilla.
I’ve been visiting Victoria Glades for more than 40 years, yet I continue to see things I haven’t previously notified. This time it was Trichostema coeruleum (pennyroyal bluecurls), a member of the mint family (Lamiaceae). [Note: Trichostema coeruleum was known until recently as Trichostema brachiatum—now a synonym of Trichostema dichotomum.] Unlike Trichostema dichotomum (bluecurls), which prefers glades and other dry habitats with acidic substrates (e.g., sandstone), T. coeruleum prefers such habitats with calcareous substrates (e.g., dolomite). A third species of the genus, Trichostema setaceum (narrow-leaf bluecurls), also occurs in Missouri but is restricted to sand prairies in extreme southeastern Missouri.
Dolomite glades are also the preferred habitat for many species of plants in the family Orobanchaceae, a bizarre family of mostly hemiparasitic plants that derive at least some of their nutrition not from the sun, but by tapping into the roots of nearby plants. Castilleja coccinea (scarlet paintbrush) is perhaps the best known of these, in most years joining the cacophony of wildflowers that form colorful displays across Victoria Glades during spring and early summer. There are, however, several less conspicuous but equally beautiful wildflowers in the family that are restricted in the area almost exclusively to the dolomite glades of Jefferson Co. One of these is Agalinis skinneriana (Skinner’s or pale gerardia/false foxglove), which the group found sporadically still in bloom across the open glade. There are several species of Agalinis in Missouri, some of which are quite common. However, A. skinneriana can usually be recognized by the characteristic habitat and generally upward-facing flowers with spreading to reflexed upper corolla lobes. The plants are also relatively slender and fewer-branched than the more common A. tenuifolia (common gerardia/false foxglove) and A. gattingeri (rough-stemmed gerardia/false foxglove).
Agalinis skinneriana (Skinner’s or pale gerardia/false foxglove—family Orobanchaceae).
Another plant in the family Orobanchaceae that the group saw was Buchnera americana (American bluehearts), represented by a single plant still bearing two worn blossoms. Normally blooming from June through September, plants in full bloom have no look-alikes and are not likely to be confused with anything else. Despite this, the vervain-like fruit-bearing structure of this late straggler fooled the group into at first thinking it was a species of Verbena until its true identity was realized.
Buchnera americana (American bluehearts—family Orobanchaceae).
No group of plants more iconically represents fall than goldenrods (genus Solidago) and true asters (genus Symphyotrichum), and no place allows as many uncommonly seen species to be seen together as the dolomite glades. Three species of goldenrods were seen during the day—the super common Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod), the less common but more showy Solidago rigida (stiff goldenrod), and the highly restricted Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod) (we were not able to locate a fourth species—Solidago radula [rough goldenrod], which we have observed during previous visits on the MDC portion of Victoria Glades). It was the true asters, however, that truly tested our plant identification abilities. Relatively easier are the purple asters, of which we found three species. The first and most abundant was Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster), recognized by its recurved phyllaries and branched habit with narrow, linear leaves that become more numerous and smaller in the upper plant. If one is still in doubt as to its identity, however, one needs only to crush the leaves between the fingers and enjoy its distinct aroma.
Along the intermittent creek and near the interface with the dry post oak woodland on the north of the glade, we encountered a second species—Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (azure aster). Identification of this species came only near the end of the outing, as a key identifying characteristic of this species—the presence of distinctly petiolate cordate basal leaves that are rough to the touch—was not seen on any of the plants examined before then. At that point, we suspected Symphyotrichum turbinellum (prairie aster) due to the vase-shaped involucres. While that species has been found at Victoria Glades, it is usually a much more highly branched plant associated with more wooded habitats (despite the common name). Finally, we found a plant with such leaves present, albeit dried up, and then another with the leaves present and still fresh to confirm the identification.
Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (sky blue aster—family Asteraceae).
In a small area at the northernmost point of the glade, we found Symphyotrichum sericeum (silky aster). This species is immediately recognizable from afar by the silvery cast to the foliage—this, combined with its highly preferred habitat of glades or dry prairies are usually enough to identify the species, although it is said that the flowers are often more purple and less bluish than other “purple asters.”
As we walked the margins of the glade, the group kept their collective eyes out for Gentiana puberulenta (downy gentian), a striking and rarely seen fall flowering species that has been found on several occasions at Victoria Glades. The species has been seen at Victoria Glades on a few occasions in past years, and the locations of these sightings were scoured thoroughly but without success. Unexpectedly, near the end of the outing, a single plant in flower was located—its perfectly fresh blossom initially hidden from view underneath fallen leaves. One of three members of the genus Gentiana in Missouri, this species is easily differentiated by having the corolla spread open at maturity. Missouriplants.com notes “The rich, deep blue color of the corollas is a striking and uncommon hue among our flora.” A strikingly beautiful final find of the day indeed, and a perfect note on which to gather for lunch at historic Russell House in nearby Hillsboro.
For me, no botany outing is strictly about plants (just as no entomology outing is strictly about insects), so there were a few interesting insect observations on the day. On our way to look for Spiranthes ovalis (lesser ladies’ tresses), June noticed a caterpillar on the Ulmus rubra (slippery elm) that we decided must represent Halysidotus tessellaris banded tussock moth).
Later, after lunch with the group, I returned with the goal of more closely inspecting Physocarpus intermedius (Midwest ninebark) along the glade toeslopes and intermittent creek to see if Dicerca pugionata was out. It has been many years since I’ve seen this species in the fall (but it has also been many years since I’ve really tried to look for it during the fall). I started first with the plants along the moist toeslopes along the west side of the glade, checking several of the now very scraggly-looking plants without success. Along the way, I encountered an especially beautiful Spiranthes magnicamporum, so I paused to take photos. While doing so, I noticed a cryptically-colored crab spider on its blossoms—Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider)—the first time I’ve ever seen a spider hunting on the flowers of an orchid.
Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider—family Thomisidae) on flowers of Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses).
Towards the end of the toeslopes, finally, two D. pugionata plopped onto my sheet. The plant they were on was near the far end of the toeslopes, and if I hadn’t seen any beetles by the time I reached the far end I would have given up the search. Finding them, however, motivated me to hike over to and continue looking along the intermittent creek, where I saw three more beetles in three different spots, the last one—satisfyingly—on the very last plant I checked before the creek disappears into denser woodland.
Dicerca pugionata (ninebark borer—family Buprestidae) beaten from living Physocarpus intermedius (Midwest ninebark).
Mission accomplished, I enjoyed one more leisurely stroll across the glade before calling it another (successful) day in the field.
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!).
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!
It’s been a few months since I’ve been on a WGNSS field trip, so I was anxious to attend this past weekend’s joint trip between the Entomology and Nature Photography Groups to visit a private restored tallgrass prairie remnant located in extreme southwestern Washington County and named after Henry Schoocraft, who famously chronicled his journey through the Missouri Ozarks in the early 1800s and passed within a few miles of this spot (if you’ve not yet read Schoolcraft’s journal, I highly recommend this natural history classic!). The landowner, a restoration ecologist for Shaw Nature Reserve, has been using prescribed burns and selective thinning over the past several years to restore the 70-acre tract of upland forest, former cropland, and grassland remnants to their presettlement character. Stupidly, I did not bring my main camera, preferring to focus instead on collecting rather than photography. In hindsight, I would have been much better served had I had my camera, as the beetle groups that I study (Buprestidae and Cerambycidae) tend to be scarce at this time of season in Missouri, while interesting subjects for photography in other insect groups abound. As far as photos go, my iPhone would have to suffice.
A lone Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
We arrived a bit after mid-afternoon and spent the bulk of the remaining daylight hours in the prairie remnant. Florally, it was one of the most diverse prairies I’ve ever seen, especially in this part of the Missouri Ozarks. One plant in bloom that was new to me was Liatris scariosa (devil’s bite blazingstar), distinguished from the similar L. aspera (also in bloom) by its flower heads on long stalks and with mostly flat phyllaries.
The first insect of interest that I found was the white fluffy early-instar caterpillar of Megalopyge crispata (black-waved flannel moth). The hairs of all species in this genus are venomous in the larval stage, and interestingly the later instars of a related species (M. opercula) resemble a tiny Trump toupee (look it up!).
Megalopyge crispata (black-waved flannel moth—family Megalopygidae) early-instar caterpillar on foliage of Carya tormentosa (mockernut hickory) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Also present were Neotibicen auriferus (prairie dog-day cicada), whose whining, metallic songs filled the air. Normally very skittish and difficult to approach, I managed to snag one on the trunk of a small persimmon tree in the middle of the prairie.
Neotibicen auriferus (plains dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) captured while singing on trunk of Diospyros virginiana (persimmon) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Atalopedes huron (Huron skipper—family Hesperiidae) perched on foliage of Rhus copallina (shiny sumac) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
As afternoon progressed to evening, I went back down from atop the ridge and visited a small calcarous fen—a unique wetland habitat created by seepage of calcareous groundwater that results in saturated, low-oxygen soil. Fens often support unique plants, and in this one I found Solidago patula (swamp goldenrod). I’ve never seen this plant before, so I was a bit disappointed it was not yet in bloom, but I marveled at an enormous, darkly colored banded fishing spider (Dolomedes vittatus) sitting on one of the plants.
Solidago patula (swamp goldenrod—family Asteraceae) in small calcareous fen.
Dolomedes vittatus (banded fishing spider—family Pisauridae) on Solidago patula (swamp goldenrod) in small calcareous fen.
After dinner we set up several light stations, including one up in the restored prairie remnant. Despite the warm, humid conditions, I had little optimism that we would see much of interest at the lights due to the near-full moon shining brightly in the cloudless sky. This was mostly true, although I did collect a few ceresine treehoppers and weevils from the lights. Additionally, a few small but pretty moths warranted a photograph or two.
Pyrausta tyralis (coffee-loving pyrausta moth—family Crambidae) at ultraviolet light in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Dichorda iridaria (showy emerald moth—family Geometridae) at ultraviolet light in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
The truly interesting finds, however, would come in the form of caterpillars on the foliage of nearby trees. Three species of slug moths (family Limacodidae)—among the most bizarre-looking of caterpillars, and all of which can sting—would be found. Two of them were new to me—a beautifully lichen-colored Euclea delphinii (spiny oak slug moth), and the nearly amorphous Apoda y-inversa (yellow-colored slug moth). The third species was the striking Parasa indetermina (stinging rose slug moth)—always a treat to see!
Euclea delphinii (spiny oak slug—family Limacodidae) caterpillar on foliage of Quercus stellata (post oak) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Apoda y-inversa (yellow-collared slug moth—family Limacodidae) caterpillar on foliage of Quercus stellata (post oak) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Parasa indetermina (stinging rose moth—family Limacodidae) caterpillar on foliage of Quercus marilandica (blackjack oak) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Other striking caterpillars were found as well: Amorpha juglandis (walnut sphinx) and Ceratomia catalpae (catalpa sphinx)—adults of each also visiting the lights, Anisota virginiensis (pink-striped oakworm), Automeris io (io moth), Acronictaradcliffei (Radcliffe’s dagger moth), and Halysidota tessellaris (banded tussock moth). Some of these were photographed in situ, but most were brought back to camp for photographs under more controlled conditions.
Amorpha juglandis (walnut sphinx—family Sphingidae) caterpillar on foliage of Juglans nigra (black walnut) in dry-mesic upland oak/hickory forest.
Acronicta radcliffei (Radcliffe’s dagger moth—family Noctuidae) on foliage of Prunus serotina (black cherry) in dry-mesic oak/hickory forest.
Halysidota tessellaris (banded tussock moth—family Erebidae) on foliage of Carya tomentosa (mockernut hickory) in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
Another interesting observation near the light in the prairie was a Neoconocephalus ensiger (sword-bearing conehead katydid—family Tettigoniidae) final-instar nymph molting to adulthood. At the time that I photographed it, the antennae were pulled taught—almost but not completely pulled free from the exuviae.
Neoconocephalus ensiger (sword-bearing conehead katydid—family Tettigoniidae) final-instar nymph molting to adulthood at night in restored tallgrass prairie remnant.
A final observation of a small treehopper (Platycotis vittata) on a Quercus stellata (post oak) twig—after which I called it a night (it was around 2 am!).
Platycotis vittata (family Membracidae) on twig of Quercus stellata (post oak) in dry-mesic oak/hickory forest.
Welcome to the 13th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering a 20-day insect collecting trip to the southwestern U.S. from June 20 to July 9, 2023. Joining me for the entire trip was Mike Arduser, a hymenopterist specializing in native bees with whom I’ve collected on and off for nearly 40 years! (For those who don’t know, Mike discovered what became the holotype of Acmaeodera chuckbellamyi, a species I described to honor my friend and mentor, the late Chuck Bellamy. That holotype remains the only known representative of the species.)The trip started with three days in the Oklahoma panhandle, where I checked traps that I’d placed a month earlier. We then collected for a couple of days in southern Colorado as we made our way west and spent 10 days collecting across southern Utah and northern Arizona. On our way back east, we spent three days in northern New Mexico and a couple of days in the Texas panhandle before making the long drive back to St. Louis on Day 20.
Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma After an 8-hour drive from St. Louis I was rarin’ to go. Unfortunately, it was blazing hot and humid—so much so that I really wasn’t prepared for it. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and that job was to do the first check on the insect “jug” traps that I set out last month. I hiked down into the canyon and was glad to see the first trap still hanging (I always worry about people molesting my traps, and if the people don’t do it the raccoons will). My happiness quickly turned to dread when I saw how many beetles it had captured—it was literally overflowing with Euphoria flower scarabs (both E. fulgida and E. sepulchralis)! Oh well, I’m out for three weeks and don’t have to be anywhere by anytime, so it’s not a problem however long it takes to count the traps. In addition to Euphoria, traps baited with sweet red wine (SRW) or a 50:50 mixture of SRW and pure ethanol (EtOH) also had a nice variety of Cerambycidae. The trap baited with EtOH only had far fewer Euphoria and Cerambycidae—consistent with what I saw in my trapping study last year in Missouri; however, I was surprised to see the SRW-baited trap perform as well as it did (more Euphoria and only slightly fewer Cerambycidae compared to the mixture). If it continues to perform this well, I may opt to using SRW only for these traps. The most exciting find was Trigonarthris atrata (one of each in the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps)—I’ve never collected this species, and it seems to be relatively uncommon throughout the south-central U.S. where it occurs.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) taken in “jug trap” baited with 50:50 ethanol/sweet red wine in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in gypsum collapsed cave canyon.
Hiking out of the canyon was difficult—the path I chose was almost vertical, especially at the top, and carrying equipment and a net as well made keeping my balance precarious. At least the gypsum rock is very “tacky” and made it easy to get a secure foothold. Lastly, I set a white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie along Raptorsroost Trail above the canyon—hoping it catches Acmaeodera during the next month.
Escobaria vivipara (spinystar cactus—family Cactaceae) in gypsum-red clay shortgrass prairie.
Afterwards we went to the Canyon Campground and set up our camp, cooked some delicious burgers, and drank some beer (tasted so good considering how hot it was). I was, however, simply too exhausted to be motivated enough to setup the lights. Instead, we chilled for awhile before turning in and hoping for lower temperatures (which eventually did come down enough that we were able to get a good night’s sleep).
Calosoma marginale (family Carabidae) on the trunk of a large Juniperus virginiana (eastern red-cedar) greets us at our campsite.
Hexagenia limbata (family Ephemeridae) sub-imago attracted to light in our campground in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Day 2
We awoke to cloudy skies—a bit of a surprise, and as we we taking down camp it actually began to rain a bit. We hadn’t put the rain fly on the tent last night—hoping to maximize circulation because of the heat. I’m glad we didn’t get woken up at 3 am with rain coming down and have to quick put the rain fly over the tent in the middle of the night! After breaking down camp, I checked the Lindgren funnel trap that I placed in the juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest near the camp site the last time I was here and was happy to see it hadn’t been overrun by Euphoria (which I did not count or keep) but did have a few elaphidiines and Neoclytus. The find of the day, however, occurred while we were breaking down camp and I saw what I thought was a Dicerca sp. on the tent. I casually took a photo and then put it in a vial and took a closer look to decide if it was D. lurida or D. obscura. As I was looking at it, I noticed the impunctate pronotal midline and realized that it was not a Dicerca but a Poecilonota, and the shape and size suggested it was P. thureura, a species I had not collected since the first time I found it in 1980! What a fantastic find to start the day.
Poecilonota thureura (family Buprestidae) on my tent in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Gloss Mountain State Park MajorCounty, Oklahoma We were not optimistic as we drove back towards the Gloss Mountains—a thick cloud layer blanketed the sky, and the rain while taking down our campsite had us thinking we might be spending much of the day dodging rain. As we approached the state park, however—its iconic profile looming in the distance as we approached, a patch of sun appeared over the park; a welcome sight along with the much more reasonable temps compared to the oven we dealt with yesterday. Blooms were diverse and plentiful—I’ve never seen this area so much and green, and Mike got to work looking at them in search of bees. I would have loved to have done the same thing (except beetles), but with the business of trap-checking at hand (and six traps the check, at that!) I put my nose down and headed up the slope to the first set of traps near and on the top of the mesa.
“Stairway” up the the top of the mesa.
The SWR trap had suffered wind-throw—some of the beetles were on the ground below the trap; however, it must have happened very recently (not more than a couple days) because the beetles on the ground were still pliable and easily located/counted. Once again the traps were inundated with Euphoria flower scarabs, while Cerambycidae were almost non-existent but did consist of two more Trigonarthris atrata to double my series of this excellent find. The SRW/EtOH trap suffered negligible wind-throw and, like the previous, was inundated with Euphoria with only two Cerambycidae (Neoclytus acuminatus and N. mucronatum). The EtOH trap suffered the worst wind-throw, with a branch falling on it and dumping the entire contents. Again, this must have happened recently because all the beetles on the ground below the trap were still pliable and easily located/counted (again, mostly Euphoria). While I was atop the mesa, I set one white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie near the EtOH trap, and as I was doing this I collected an Onthophagus sp. on the ground in the mixed-grass prairie atop the mesa.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine placed in soapberry/bumelia copse on south slope of gypsum/red clay mesa.
Epicauta immaculata (family Meloidae) on flower Oenethera serrulata (yellow sundrops) on slope of gypsum-capped clay mesa.
Back down on the slope, I encountered Mike, who had collected one Plinthocoelium suaveolens and seen a mating pair on the flowers of Sapindus drummondii; I checked for more periodically throughout the rest of the afternoon and didn’t see any, but I did collect a nice series of Trichodesbibalteatus off the flowers.
Plinthocoelium suaveolenssuaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on flower Sapindus drummondii on clay slope of gypsum-capped mesa.
Back down in the plains below along the south edge of the park, I was disappointed to find that all three jug traps were wind-thrown and completely dumped with no possibility of data collection. Because the only trees in the area are short-statured mesquites, I clipped the traps directly to a branch, but the strong winds were able to “spin” the traps on their hooks. I reset all the traps, and to prevent a repeat of this I looped guide lines through the jug handle in several directions and tied them to the branches. Hopefully next time I’ll be able to collect data from this set of traps.
Jug trap secured with guide lines to prevent wind-throw.
While I was there, I set a white bottle trap in gypsum/clay mixed-grass prairie near the SRW trap, then found several Chrysobothris octocola and Actenodes mendax (new state record?!) and on a wind-thrown branch of Prosopis glandulosa. Back in the parking lot, I checked the mesquite (where many years ago I first found C. octocola and Plionoma suturalis (as new state records) and found several more of each as well as a single Acmaeodera sp. prob. mixta, all on dead branches of Prosopis glandulosa. By this time, I was exhausted and needed to eat something before heading back up the slope to check the soapberry flowers one last time before heading off to our next destination.
Actenodes mendax (family Buprestidae) on branch Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in clay/gypsum mixed-grass prairie.
Chlorochroa osborni (family Pentatomidae) on red clay mixed-grass prairie.
Beaver Dunes Park BeaverCounty, Oklahoma It took about two hours to drive here from Gloss Mountain State Park, and given the amount of time it took to process the traps there it was too late to do the same here. Instead, we got a few supplies in town and enjoyed a spectacular sunset as we setup camp and cooked dinner (ballpark brats!).
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Day 3
We spent a good part of the morning curating specimens and updating our field notes from yesterday, then broke camp and headed out to check the traps. We did notice that temps were cooling rapidly and skies looking more ominous, and as we arrived at the site we began to hear rumblings of thunder. I decided to forge ahead but try to stay close in case the skies opened up. Winds were picking up as I reached the first trap (SRW), but I got it checked quickly as there were few beetles to deal with (but tons of moths!). I was frankly glad to see it was not overwhelmed with Euphoria flower scarabs, which would have meant much more time counting beetles. It had dropped but not spilled, and the bait bottle was laying nearby, and since the reservoir was full I considered the data not compromised. The SRW/EtOH trap was also full of moths, but in this case I dumped the contents into the strainer, reset the trap (still hanging but the bait bottle blown out), and brought the contents back to the car to count in case the skies opened up. It threatened to do so as I was counting, but I used the hatch as a shield (and took advantage of the lights it offered). In this case there were a few more Euphoria, but not the overwhelming numbers seen at the two sites further east— makes me wonder if we are right at the edge of the range for E. fulgida. Cerambycidae included 21 elaphidiines (I’m sure there are 3 or more species involved). After conditions began improving, I retrieved the EtOH trap contents and brought the contents back to the car for sorting/counting. The number of cerambycids was surprising (73—the highest of any trap so far on the trip), given that EtOH traps have consistently shown poorer efficacy during the course of this study. I won’t know whether to be excited about any of the cerambycids until I can do IDs, but again there appear to be at least three or more species involved. Before leaving, I set out a bottle trap for Acmaeodera in open sand dune prairie near a lot of flowers and near the SRW trap. Traps all checked and reset, and the rain, thunder, and lightning continuing to roll, we decided to head west!
Black Mesa State Park & vicinity CimarronCounty, Oklahoma We arrived at Black Mesa State Park mid-afternoon, and with the continued threat of rain we decided to setup camp while conditions were dry rather than waiting until later. Once done, we marveled at the amazing abundance and diversity of wildflowers in bloom—every time I’ve been here before the place has been bone dry! Given this, Mike decided to search for bees around the campground while I worked the traps I had placed in the area last month. There are two sets—one in the park in a canyon filled with hackberry and soapberry, and another north of the park at an interesting sandstone outcrop near Kenton with oaks and pines—unusual for the area! I decided to check the latter because I thought it had the better chance to produce something interesting. Boy, was that an understatement; as soon as I walked up to the SRW trap and looked inside, I saw it—a live Aethecerinus wilsonii walking over the hoards of Euphoria and other insects that had been attracted to the trap! I’ve been looking for this species since forever, and here was a big, beautiful male. I picked it out, dried it off a bit, and set it on a tree branch for a few photographs before getting down to counting the rest of the trap catch. This included 130 Euphoria fulgida (I thought they might be a different species at first, but then I determined that they are simply the western “fuscocyanea” form of the species—clearly I had not reached the western limit of the species at the previous spot!) and 30 elaphidiines. The SRW/EtOH trap was even more loaded with Euphoria and elaphidiines, but as expected the EtOH trap had lower numbers and diversity.
Aethecerinus wilsonii (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
Euphoria fulgida (western “fuscocyanea” form—family Scarabaeidae). In “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
I was hoping I would have enough time to check the last set of traps before it got too late but decided doing so would be cutting things too close. I did decide, however, that I had time to set out the last Lindgren funnel trap in the North Canyon of the park and the last bottle trap at the Scenic Overlook. I placed the bottle trap first in an area with lots of wildflowers (where it will, hopefully, be visible to Acmaeodera visiting the flowers), then bushwhacked to a large cottonwood I’d spotted earlier in the North Canyon. When I reached the tree, I realized a hiking trail passed right by it, which would make the trap too vulnerable to vandals (amazing that, even out in nature, I have to worry about that), plus the understory around the tree was thick with poison ivy. I hiked instead up the canyon to the road and found a large hackberry off the trail where I could hang the trap discretely.
“Bottle” trap for trapping flower-visiting insects such as Acmaeodera (family Buprestidae).
Traps placed, I went back to the campground where Mike and I enjoyed cool temps, a nice warm campfire, and grilled-to-perfection strip steaks while admiring incredible evening skies!
Sunset in West Canyon Campground at Black Mesa State Park.
Enjoying a brew and the campfire at sunset.
Day 4
It rained overnight, but our tent worked to perfection and we slept well under cool nighttime temps. Mike had set out bowl traps at the campground for bees and while doing so encountered a Moneilema armatum mating pair in the flower of Opuntia phaeacantha. I’ve never seen an individual of this or any species of Moneilema in the flower of the host cactus! After breaking camp, we headed out to check the final set of traps, but on the way we stopped at the “Petrified Forest” to see what we might find on the spectacular blaze of wildflowers that the park is sporting right now. I imagine that such a spectacle is unusual for the area and that most years are not like this. Despite the abundance and diversity of bloom, there wasn’t a lot of corresponding insect activity. There are some iNaturalist records of two Tetraopes spp. from this area, but I found very little milkweed along the Bird Haven Trail leading off of the area and no beetles. I suspect it is still too early for them, as the plants that I did find were all very small.
Burnsius communis (common checkered-skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moth—family Erebidae) on flower of Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Back at the “forest” I did find a single Acmaeodera in the mixta/immaculata complex on the flower of Engelmannia peristenia, a Trichiotinus texanus on the flower of Cirsium undulatum, and a rather darkly marked Batyle suturalis on the flower of Thelesperma magnicamporum.
Batyle suturalis (sutured longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
I also got a chuckle when I was photographing one of the petrified logs and Mike just then realized it was not a regular log that I was photographing!
Petrified log.
We then returned to the Canyon Overlook so I could check my traps. The floral diversity atop the overlook was just as amazing as down in the canyon, and as Mike set about searching for bees I got down to the business of checking the last set of traps. I expected results similar to the traps I’d checked last evening, and I was not surprised, with Euphoria fulgida “fuscocyanea” and elaphidiine Cerambycidae forming the bulk of the catch. I did, however, find not only some very interesting mantidflies (Climaciella brunnea) but a few individuals of the Polistes paper wasp species that must serve as the model for the mantidfly. I kept both, as this will be an interesting association to document.
Apiomerus spissipes (family Reduviidae) in flower of Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear) in shortgrass prairie.
Copestylum caudatum (hairy-horned bromeliad fly—family Syrphidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Before leaving the area, we stopped again at the sandstone outcrop north of the park where I’d checked my traps the day before. I didn’t see much going on then, but it had been cool and cloudy and I hoped today’s sunshine and warmer temps would bring out more insect activity. Mike actually did pretty well with bees at the spot, but I found almost nothing—beating the oaks yielded nothing, beating the pines yielded nothing, and beating the junipers yielded nothing. Only when I beat the mesquites did I find a few blister beetles and mesquite bugs (none of which I kept). I did find a single Lycus arizonensis on Asclepias aspera (antelope horn), which I thought seemed way out of range for the species. In fact, it is way out of the normal range (central Texas through New Mexico and Arizona), but another person has already recorded this species on iNaturalist from a location very near to this one. Given the lack of beetle activity (and Mike now satisfied with the bees he had picked up over the past two days in the area), we decided to head north into Colorado on our eventual way to Utah.
Nemognatha nigripennis (family Meloidae) on flower of Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed) in shortgrass prairie.
Trichodes oresterus (family Cleridae) on flower on Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Brachystola magna (plains lubber grasshopper—family Romaleidae).
Vogel Canyon Picnic Area OteroCounty, Colorado The drive north into Colorado and towards Vogel Canyon took us through some quite remote areas, the state line crossing actually occurring on a gravel road. I last came here about ten years ago with Jeff Huether, and I thought it might be a good stop before spending the night on our way to Utah. By now temps were in the 90s and the winds were whipping strongly from the south, so I opted not to use the beating sheet and instead just carried an aerial net. Not long after hiking down the Overlook Trail I saw what I thought was an Eleodes clown beetle crawling on the ground and then doing its characteristic “headstand” when it saw me. I figured I’d take a photo, but as I was doing so I realized it had long antennae—and that it was actually a Moneilema cactus beetle (M. armatum to be precise)! Cactus beetles look very much like clown beetles, which I believe are models that the cactus beetles mimic (the former are noxious, but the latter are not), but I’ve never seen cactus beetles actually mimicking the clown beetles behaviorally! Of course, no amount of coaxing could convince the cactus beetle to resume his headstand mimicry, so I had to be content photographing it clinging to the ground. I believe it came from a patch of Opuntia polyacantha very near where I first saw it, and from that point in I searched not only this plant but also patches of a second species of pricklypear cactus (O. phaeacantha) as well as tree cholla (Cylindropuntia imbricata)—without success! I did note that other iNaturalist records of cactus beetles in southeastern Colorado were later than this date, so it seems it may still be a bit early for them.
As at Black Mesa State Park, I also checked lots and lots of Asclepias latifolia (broadleaved milkweed) for Tetraopes milkweed beetles but saw none (again, it’s probably a bit too early for them). As I was doing this, I noticed Cacama valvata (cactus dodgers) bolting from the chollas whenever I got too close to them, but I did manage to sneak up on one for a photo.
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper chaparral.
Frustratingly, the abundance and diversity of flowers here (the entire area around Oklahoma, Colorado, and Texas seems to have been inundated with rain this year) was void of insect activity—Mike did get some interesting bees at Escobaria cactus flowers, but for me beetle activity was almost zero. After reaching the end of the Overlook Trail and looking at the petroglyphs (disappointing, as vandalism has made it impossible to discern the original etchings), I hiked back along the Canyon Trail and—finally—doubled my beetle count for the spot when I found a Typocerus octonotatus (not at all uncommon) on the flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum! Not much else was seen during the remainder of the hike, save for an Efferia sp. robber fly holding as prey a green lacewing (family Chrysopidae).
Overlook Trail.
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) with chrysopid (green lacewing) prey in juniper chaparral.
Back up at the trailhead, we decided Colorado is not where it’s happening right now and in the morning we’ll head towards Utah. On the way out, we saw a gorgeous Coluber constrictor flaviventris (yellow-bellied racer) crossing the road so stopped to take photographs. It was not very cooperative, but I managed to get a few good (enough) shots of it.
Distant thunderclouds.
Coluber constrictor flaviventris (eastern yellow-bellied racer—family Colubridae) in juniper chaparral.
Rocky Ford, Colorado There weren’t any public land campgrounds in or around Vogel Canyon as far as we could determine, so we hoteled it in Rocky Ford near La Junta a few miles north of the canyon. The High Chaparral Inn was comically small town, and finding something to eat for dinner turned into a major fiasco due to the lateness of the hour. After a fruitless drive north of town and back, we ended up having to sit for half an hour in the parking lot of the Sonic right across the street from the hotel just to get a burger—without a milkshake because the ice cream machine was broken!
High Chaparral Inn—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
Day 5
If last night’s dinner fiasco represented the worst of road tripping, the following morning coffee stop represented the very best. Actually, I’ve found some of the best coffee in the smallest of towns out west, and “The Coffea (not a typo) Shop” had it all—casual atmosphere, fun trinkets, delicious burritos, darling baristas, and most importantly incredible coffee, bold in flavor and brewed strong. It was so good I bought a pound of bulk to bring home with me.
The Coffea Shop—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
The drive west along Hwy 50 later that afternoon was one of the most scenic I’ve ever encountered, and it all started in Cañón City at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. A Tyrannosaurus rex clad in yellow tennis shoes welcomed us to the dinosaur theme that dominates the western U.S. Driving west, we oohed and aahed at every turn as the road followed the twists and turns of the Arkansas River amidst steep canyon walls until eventually we made it over Monarch Pass.
Yellow tennis shoe clad Tyrannosaurus rex—Cañón City, Colorado.
5 mi SE Montrose MontroseCounty, Colorado Last year Rick Westcott sent me label information for an undescribed species in the genus Nanularia—a very unusual location for a genus whose known members reside almost exclusively in California (the exception being the relatively widespread N. brunnea and the enigmatic N. pygmaea, the latter still known only from the unique holotype labeled simply “Texas”).
Eriogonum pelinophilum habitat near Montrose, Colorado.
The specimen was collected in mid-July on Eriogonum pelinophilum (all species in the genus seem to feed exclusively on plants in this genus), but our path to Utah took us right through the city of Montrose so I decided to give it a shot. I’m pretty sure I found the locality (despite the somewhat imprecise label data—“8 km SE Montrose, 1875m”). The spot was small, but the elevation was spot on and—more importantly—there was lots of Eriogonum that seemed to be restricted to just that area. I searched the plants thoroughly, and while I did collect a few leaf beetles (a small series of Saxinus sp. and a single Neochlamisus sp.) and photographed a stunning clearwing moth (Synanthedon polygoni) associated with the plant, I did not see any Nanularia. For now, I’ll file this spot away and keep it in mind for the next time I happen to pass through this area—hopefully around mid-July!
Synanthedon polygoni (buckwheat root borer moth—family Sesiidae) on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
Hyles lineata (white-lined sphinx—family Sphingidae) caterpillar on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
27 mi ENE Gateway MesaCounty, Colorado As we continued in our way west towards Utah, we passed through a spectacular canyon in Colorado’s “mesa country” with towering, jagged red bluffs lining either side of the highway. As we gained elevation and passed over the summit, conditions suddenly seemed greener and we started seeing lots of wildflowers in bloom along the roadsides. This is always a good sign for potential insect collecting, and if even greater interest to me were the stands of Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak) along the fencerows—a good host for buprestid beeltes (Brachys rileyi being the one I’d be most interested in finding). We found a turnout and pulled over to inspect the wildflowers and see what we might find. Mike found bees coming to Penstemon (foxglove), but I did not see beetles of any kind visiting the various flowers present. I then turned my attention to the Gambel’s oak and got out the long-handled net to works the high branches—collecting a nice series of Cyrtolobus treehoppers, Curculio weevils, and other miscellaneous beetles but no buprestids. I also collected a few Curculio weevils off the Cercocarpus (mountain mahogany) trees growing alongside the oaks. By now it was nearly 7 pm, so we continued west with the goal of making it to Gateway and finding lodging.
A very scenic Hwy 141 in western Colorado.
John Brown Canyon MesaCounty, Colorado We had expected to find lodging in the town of Gateway, but it was nothing more than a closed convenience store and a few private residences. Fortunately, we found this spectacular canyon just outside of town with camping allowed.
Mike enjoys a brew while dinner cooks.
Me enjoying our campfire in John Brown Canyon.
A phenomenal night sky!
Hesperumia sulphuraria (sulphur moth—family Geometridae) at light in juniper/pinyon chaparral.
Day 6
We broke camp early and continued west. Once we drove up to the top of the canyon and breached the rim, the morning light gave us a chance to look back and see exactly how spectacular the canyon was where we’d spent the night.
John Brown Canyon—Mesa County, Colorado.
above Hideout Canyon Manti-La Sal National Forest GrandCounty, Utah It was another morning of driving through spectacular canyonlands as we made out way to the next planned locality. Road conditions were tough—it took us an hour and a half to drive the 30 mile distance over incredibly rocky and steep terrain, and in fact we were stopped short just a mile from our destination by a rock ledge drop-off that was a bit too much for my loaded-to-max-capacity Bronco Sport to handle without risk of damage (a full-sized Bronco probably would have had no problem). The habitat, however, was surely what we were looking for—high elevation pinyon pine and juniper woodland, the former tree being the probable host of the recently described Buprestis pinyoni—so we parked the off the road and began to explore.
Pinyon/juniper woodland.
There was—again—a diversity and abundance of bloom for Mike to look for bees and me to look for Acmaeodera, but I first began by beating a dying pinyon (Pinus edulis) and promptly got a small series of Enoclerus sp. Beating other dying and dead pinyons throughout the course of the afternoon would produce more Enoclerus and also several acanthocine longhorned beetles and a Monochamus clamator. Besides the junipers, which produced nothing, the only other truly woody plants were Cercocarpus sp. (mountain mahogany) and what I would later determine to be Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry), the latter producing a single very tiny clerid. Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) were blooming nicely, and after not seeing anything in the blooms at first I eventually started picking up Trichodes ornatus and Acmaeodera bowditchi.
Acmaeodera bowditchi (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Among the diversity of flowering plants present, the only other one that I saw attracting beetles was Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy), from which I picked a few A. bowditchi and also some smaller Acmaeodera (perhaps two species). I did do some beating of living Pinus edulis, not expecting much but alway hopeful, and got only a couple of Dichelonyx sp. scarabs. The collecting was not fast and furious, but I encountered different things with enough frequency to keep me motivated and ended up spending much of the afternoon there. Eventually we decided to leave, having sufficient series of what we’d found and not seeing anything new, and began the long, rocky, bouncy trek out of the wilderness.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Euphydryas sp. (family Nymphalidae) on flower of Tetratneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
On the way towards the last stop, I’d noticed a large Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) along the side of the road with several large, recently-dead branches on the roadside—apparently injured by heavy machinery (perhaps a road scraper). I’d passed it by on the way up, anxious to reach our destination, but I wasn’t about to pass it by on the way out (and it’s fortunate that I stopped). I saw little on the branches at first, but after careful inspection of the trunk (hoping to see Buprestis pinyoni) I noticed several small Enoclerus sp. running rapidly upon it—a sure sign that the tree was the right stage for attracting woodboring beetles. Then I saw it—sitting right on the trunk at a spot I must have looked at before, a nice big Dicerca tenebrosa; not a rare species but one I’ve never collected before. I searched the trunk and all branches again carefully and did not find another, but I did pick up a few of the Enoclerus. My curiosity quenched (and feeling a bit vindicated for wanting to stop), we continued on our way.
Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) on trunk of injured Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Day 7
Our destination last night was Sandthrax Campground. It was a beautiful primitive campground in a gorgeous sandstone canyon lined with large cottonwoods, but it was not what we expected since it lacked pinyon pines—the host of same beetle I was looking for at the previous spot and recorded from this locality in the type series. Perhaps the specimen is mislabeled, or perhaps it was able to fly a long distance and happened to be picked up by an entomologist camping at the campground—who knows! Nevertheless, we had a wonderful campfire after we arrived and enjoyed comfortable sleeping temperatures through the night.
Morning in Sandthrax Campground.
After briefly looking around in the morning and not seeing enough (anything!) of interest to warrant spending time there, we packed up and started making our way to the area around Page, Arizona. It would take all day, as we left open the possibility of stopping anywhere that caught our fancy along the way.
Hog Springs Recreation Area GarfieldCounty, Utah The first such place was Hog Springs Recreation Area, just a few miles down the road. It was a chance to explore up close the stunning red sandstone canyon leading down to the Colorado River as it flowed through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.
Hog Springs Recreation Area.
There was a lot of Sphaeralcea, mostly past bloom but with still enough individual blossoms to make them attractive. Diadasia sp. bees were utilizing the flowers, but did not see any of the Buprestidae or Cerambycidae that utilize Sphaeralcea and that I’d hoped to see.
Diadasia sp. (family Apidae) in flower of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in cottonwood canyon.
I walked up the canyon a ways and saw a Trimerotropispallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper) and a largish and very skittish lizard that I take to be Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard) that let me take only two photos of it (and not very good ones at that) before it scampered up a large cottonwood tree out of view. The lack of insect activity was a bit concerning, especially considering that our previous location also had little to offer, so we continued our way with hopes of better collecting ahead.
Canyon Trail—Hog Springs Recreation Area.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on sandstone in cottonwood canyon.
Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard—family Phrynosomatidae) in cottonwood canyon.
We passed through some of the most amazing canyon scenery that either one of us had ever seen on our way down through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area to a raging Colorado River. I’ve visited southern Utah briefly before and knew that the landscape was incredible, but what we saw today was otherworldly!
Hwy 95 passes through spectacular canyons.
After climbing back up on the other side we reached pinyon/juniper woodland, and it became increasingly impossible for me to resist stopping every time I saw a pinyon pine with light green to brown needles—meaning the tree was dying or had recently died and was, thus, ripe for infestation by woodboring beetles!
Harmony Flat San JuanCounty, Utah We finally decided to stop in an area called Harmony Flat, where we saw not only scattered dead trees within the woodland but also low roadcuts boasting a bit of floral bloom. I looked at the blooms first, hoping that at this higher elevation I might see species of Acmaeodera on the flowers, but none were seen (nor were beetles of any kind for that matter—only bees, which Mike did find of interest!).
Dianthidium (Dianthidium) sp. (family Megachilidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
Diadasia diminuta complex (globemallow chimney bees—family Apidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
I turned my attention to checking out some of the dead/dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pibe) in the area. The first one I approached had a big, recently wind-thrown branch lying underneath an otherwise healthy tree, and when I started inspecting it I quickly found a Chrysobothris sp. on one of the branches. More careful inspection of the entire branch failed to turn up any additional individuals, so I turned my attention to an older dead branch lying underneath the more recently fallen one. I did not expect to see beetles in the branch, but I thought maybe there would be some still inside of it and used my knife to cut into the wood and hopefully follow galleries to their still-resident inhabitant. Very quickly I found a small Pogonocherus sp. in its pupal chamber—a fresh and perfectly formed adult but not yet emerged from the wood. Sadly, the only other beetle I found within the wood was a dead Chrysobothris sp. that had successfully pupated and neared adult emergence but then died before completing such. I searched for additional dead/dying pinyon pines but encountered fencing that prevented me from reaching those that I could see until spotting another one (living but with a few dying branches) near where I’d parked the car—along the way collecting a Cryptocephalus sp. that dropped off of an Artemisa sp. (sagebrush) as I approached. The dying branches produced only Enocleruslecontei, a small series of which I collected. Finally, after checking in with Mike, who was having decent luck collecting bees off the blooms along the roadside, I spotted one fairly large dying pinyon line in the distance and went to sample it. The tree itself produced only more E. lecontei, which I did not feel the need to collect more of, but then I noticed a largish branch that had broken off earlier and seemed to be in perfect condition for attracting woodboring beetle adults. This was born out when I collected first one and then another Chrysobothris sp. (not the same species as the previous individual) on the main branch portion. Having spent a good hour at the site, and still needing to reach an area with cellular service to contact Paul Kaufman—another collector planning to meet up with us, we decided to continue on ahead.
Chrysobothris sp. (family Buprestidae) on branch dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Enoclerus lecontei (blackbellied clerid—family Cleridae) beaten from branch of dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive toward Page, Arizona took us off the plateau and down Moki Doug Way Grade—a terrifyingly steep but incredibly scenic drop into the lowlands below.
Moki Doug Way Grade.
Approaching Mexican Hat, we finally got into cellular service and heard from Paul, who had just passed through town and was approaching the grade (we apparently crossed paths shortly after coming down the grade). We made arrangements to meet and then caravanned to our next planned stop to look for a tiny buprestid species called Acmaeodera navajo.
8 mi E Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona Conditions were incredibly windy, and while Mike did find a few bees there were no beetles of interest (or even not of interest!). There was Sphaeralcea (globe mallow) in bloom (a known flower host for A. navajo), though it was a bit past its prime, and I hoped the lack of almost any insect activity was not a bad omen for the area. Fortunately I had other localities recorded for finding this species, so we packed up and moved onto the next one.
Near Page, Arizona.
15 mi S Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona The area east of Page not producing any of the Acmaeodera navajo I had hoped to find, we next came to this spot south of town. It was more of the same, however, with brutal winds and no beetles of interest despite the presence of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in bloom. I did find Trirhabdanitidicollis on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush), a few of which I collected.
Trirhabda nitidicollis (rabbitbrush leaf beetle—family Chrysomelidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While I was photographing the beetle, a diminutive Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue) flitted around and landed on the plant. I managed to photograph it (but missed the focus!).
Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue—family Lycaenidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Since it seemed not much was happening in the area, the three of us discussed our options for what to do next. We considered skipping the other localities I had recorded for the area and just driving on to the area north of Kanab where we planned to collect next. However, it would be approaching dark when we arrived (not fun setting up camp in the dark), so we opted to hotel it in Page instead. Since the other planned localities in the area were outside of town and on the way to Kanab, we could check them in the morning and move on if nothing was happening. Driving into town towards our hotel, we happened upon a restaurant called “Gone West” and were pleasantly surprised at the delicious amber ale on draft, excellent fish and chips, and live music covering some pretty cool songs—most with a bit of an electric guitar bent (much to my liking!).
Day 8
Hwy 89 at State Line CoconinoCounty, Arizona We awoke to calm conditions with no trace of the battering winds we experienced yesterday, and after coffee, a bite to eat, and stocking up on provisions we navigated to another locality west of town where Acmaeodera navajo has been collected (right at the state line between Arizona and Utah).
Arizona/Utah State Line.
Literature records indicate that adults are attracted to flowers of Sphaeralcea, Linum, and Opuntia, and we quickly began finding blooming plants of the first two. Almost immediately we began finding Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata—a species I’ve collected only sparingly before, on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, and after a bit of time I finally found my first A. navajo(!) on the same along with an occasional A. immaculata on. On the south part of the loop (up one side of the road and down the other), there were scattered plants of Helianthus ambigua, on the flowers of which we found a few individuals of the same three species. By the time I finished the loop, I wasn’t quite satisfied with the sparing numbers of specimens I had collected, especially of A. navajo, so I did another loop. During this time, insect activity had picked up considerably, and I collected more than enough of all three species for my needs.
Acmaeodera navajo (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow).
Acmaeodera immaculata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
I also took the chance to cross the state line so I could label some specimens from Utah (Kane Co.), collecting a few A. pubiventris lanata and a single A. navajo on flowers of S. grossulariifolia.
I think we probably arrived at the spot just as the insects were starting to become active (~10 am), and over the course of the next two hours their activity really picked up. At any rate, full collecting bottles has a way of replenishing enthusiasm for the hunt, and we headed towards the next spot full of optimism about our chances of success. POSTSCRIPT: Mike found a live male Prionus sp. in the door-well of our vehicle. I doubt that it is really from this locality, but rather that it flew into the car at a previous site a result of being attracted to residual prionic acid from lures that I have had previously. For now I will place it with this locality but reassess which of the previous localities it might have come from after identification of the species.
23 mi NW Page KaneCounty, Utah There exists a very old record of Nanularia brunnea in the University of California—Davis collection from this locality. It is a species I’ve never collected, despite living for five years in California—part of the range of this, the most widespread and commonly encountered species in the genus. I was heartened to see its host plant—Eriogonum inflatum—as soon as I got out of the vehicle, and the plant appeared to be common along a sandy 2-track paralleling the highway. Paul walked one way and I walked the other, and almost immediately Paul came back showing me something he’d collected on the stem of one of the plants—it was, indeed, N. brunnea! My motivation now sky high, we continued to look at the plants while working our way west along the highway. At one point, the stand thinned out and confined itself to just along the 2-track, so Paul continued west and I turned around to re-examine the more extensive stand of plants. As it turned out, I should have been more patient and continued along with Paul, as he eventually found three more individuals while I found none. He offered to let me have one, but I was determined to see and collect the species for myself, so I returned to the area where he had seen them and eventually found it for myself. I found three individuals—one crawling along the bottom of a low branch of the plant and two more sitting on the stem just below the lowest branch point (the latter also dropping as soon as I saw them but, fortunately, seen on and recovered from the ground). Paul was happy that I’d succeeded (not only was it my target for the site, but it also meant that he didn’t have to give me one of his specimens!). It may have taken well over two hours for me to find the first individual, but the time spent searching up to that point was not fruitless—also present and blooming at the site was Sphaeralcea ambigua, and on its flowers I found occasional individuals of the three species of Acmaeodera I’d collected at the previous spot (A. navajo, A. pubiventris lanata, and A. immaculata). Also present on the Sphaeralcea were a few individuals of Amannus sp. (pectoralis or vittiger), neither of which I’ve ever collected before. In this regard, I was able to repay Paul the favor, as he had not seen this species while we were there. I offered to give him one of mine for another specimen of Nanularia, a deal he readily accepted! A small series of my target for this spot now in the bottle, we set our sites on the next location and next target species.
Amannus sp. (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea ambigua (apricot globemallow).
Kitchen Corral Wash Rd Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument Kane County, Utah Another target species for the trip is Chrysobothris nelsoni, a species associated with Eriogonum and described from various localities in southern Utah but mostly near the Coral Pink Sand Dune system near Kanab. We plan to visit that area eventually, but part of the type series was collected at this spot, which was not too far out of the way as we continued west, and given the success we’ve already had today and that we still had a good amount of daylight left before reaching Kanab, I decided to give the area a look. It was a long drive over sometimes rough, sometimes sandy roads to reach the location, but the scenery of carved canyons was just spectacular!
Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.
The pinyon/juniper woodland had some small “dune-ish” areas of sand within it, but I didn’t encounter any Eriogonum plants or any of the more extensive sand areas that I expected would be needed to support stands of the plant. As I searched the area, I didn’t encounter many flowering plants, but I did see a couple of Opuntia aurea in bloom (yellow form) and collected Trichodes ornatus and a few of the hoards of nitidulids that congregate in the flowers of plants this genus, and I also found a single Acmaeodera diffusa on the flower of a lone blooming Sphaeralcea parvifolia plant. Beating was only somewhat more productive—just one Dichelonyx sp. and a curculionoid were found while beating the branches of living Pinus edulis; however, I did find a few Chrysobothris spp. on a dead P. edulis—two smaller ones that may be C. cuprascens beating one of the branches and a larger one of the “sculptured group” on the trunk itself. Ever on the lookout for Buprestis pinyoni, I spotted a largish P. edulis cadaver with Buprestis-sized emergence holes in one of the remaining large branches and began chopping into the branch in hopes of finding a Buprestis cadaver. I didn’t find an intact cadaver, but I did find a single Buprestis sp. elytron fragment in the branch and collected it hoping I will be able to determine the species. Mike found a variety of bees, but he was most excited about a pollen-collecting wasp in the genus Pseudomasaris that he had collected from the flowers of Lupinus sp. I remembered this as I later walked by the plant and saw a large wasp fly from it out of the corner of my eye, instinctively swinging my net and remarkably capturing another individual that Mike was happy to have.
Vanessa sp. (family Nymphalidae) on Sphaeralcea sp.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While the small dune areas did not produce C. nelsoni or the Eriogonum plants they feed on, we did find a couple of nice large Eleodes beetles, one E. obscura sulcipennis and one E. caudifera, crawling across the sand.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive back out through the canyon was just as spectacular as the drive in, but this time we had an added obstacle to contend with—an angry bovine! We came upon the big, black bull standing in the middle road, and he very clearly took our approaching vehicle as a challenge! We tried slowly moving to the far side of the road, but he moved as well to block us—tail twitching as he continued to stare us down! All we could do was wait until he got bored enough and slowly strolled off the road and into the brush, at which time we gunned it a bit going through in case he changed his mind and wished to resume the stand off!
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Mike and I had planned to camp in Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, but Paul mentioned a BLM (Burrau of Land Management) campground north of the state park that sounded like a much better option—not only was it less likely to be a crowded, RV parking lot, but we would be able to collect insects with no permit requirements. When we arrived at the campground, our expectations were not only met but greatly exceeded! It was a beautiful campground, with widely spaced sites located within a grove of large, stately ponderosa pines (hence the name).
Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Our campsite sign—note the tiger beetle!
After setting up camp and cooking dinner (steak!), I opted to gather firewood instead of setting up my lights as temperatures were already tumbling below the threshold for longhorned beetles. Paul, however, decided to set up his lights anyway (both ultraviolet and mercury vapor), and I’m glad he did—a nice number of Polyphylla uteana came to the lights, more than enough for both he and I to each collect a small series for our collections.
Sunset at our campsite.
Venus shines brightly in the western evening sky.
Day 9
Hancock Rd Kane County, Utah Sleeping temps were delicious last night, and the crisp air made made the morning coffee routine especially enjoyable. I had two targets for this general area—Chrysobothris nelsoni and Xylotrechus rameyi, both described recently from nearby localities by my friend and fellow coleopterophile Ron Alten. Ron had given me some locations and tips for finding the two species, and my plan for the day was to visit the various localities and hope that my combination of timing and experience would yield success. This was the first of the localities I had marked for C. nelsoni, but from the start it didn’t feel “right”—pinyon/juniper woodland with little of the open sand that seemed needed for stands of Eriogonum host plants. Nevertheless, one never knows what else they might find as they explore an area, so we gave the area a good look. There was Sphaeralcea present, but all of it was past bloom and yielded no beetles. I also found some recently windthrown branches of juniper that I hoped might yield woodboring beetles, but again none were found. The only beetle I did find was a small tenebrionid walking in the sand. Fortunately, I was able to get ahold of Ron by phone, who advised me to go closer to the dunes—not in the state park, but in the BLM lands north of the park. I should have guessed this would be the case and thanked Ron for his help, then headed back to the west a few miles where we had seen the dunes approaching the highway.
Habitat along Hancock Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah The northernmost extent of the sand dunes cross the highway at this location, so we decided to stop here to see if we could find the Eriogonum host for Chrysobothris nelsoni—and find it we did (the host, not the beetle). In fact, not only was E. alatum, the recorded host for the species, abundant, but there were several other species of Eriogonum present as well. I spent quite a bit of time in the dunes searching the Eriogonum, focusing on E. alatum but also paying attention to the other species I was seeing (especially E. inflatum, a known host for other buprestids such as Nanularia brunnea), but no amount of searching turned up the beetle. I began to wonder if I was too late—most records of the species are from May and it was now the end of June. I also wondered if I had the proper search image—Ron had told me that the beetles would be on the basal leaves rather than up on the stems. Could they be underneath? I lifted the leaves on several plants as I looked, but this slowed things down considerably. After over an hour on the dunes without success I decided to check back in with the other guys and worked my way back to the roadside.
Sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
As I walked toward the car, I noticed Sphaeralcea parvifolia blooming abundantly along the roadside in a stretch of pinyon juniper woodland and collected a number of Acmaeodera diffusa on the flowers. Back at the vehicles, Mike was busy collecting bees from flowers in a small wet meadow surrounded by the dunes—I swept through the meadow thinking there may be sedges off which I might find Taphrocerus, but all I found was a single A. diffusa and a curculionoid. Mike had, however, found a single Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius in the nearby sand dunes; so I spent a bit of time searching the same in hopes of finding more. None were found, however—a few miscellaneous beetles being the only things I collected off the flowers. When I returned to the vehicles, I encountered Paul taking shelter under the shade of a large ponderosa pine at the edge of the dune—he also had had no success finding C. nelsoni, and our hopes of finding the species dimmed further.
Satyrium behrii (Behr’s hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium in sand dune habitat.
Before heading to potential localities for our next target, I wanted to stop at a roadside pull off along Hancock Rd that looked like it could be interesting—pinyon/juniper woodland at the edge of the dunes and bordering open sagebrush chaparral. I thought more insects might be out compared to this morning at the first stop. Unfortunately, the results were similar, with not much in bloom although I did find a few Acmaeodera diffusa and one Meloidae on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius—one of the few flowering plants we found in the area.
Undetermined blister beetle (family Meloidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in sand dune habitat.
5 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah Having failed in our attempt to find Chrysobothris nelsoni, we turned our attention to another target we had for the area, Xylotrechus rameyi—also described by Ron Alten with the type and paratypes taken at several nearby localities. This was one of them, and the grove of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) which the paratype series had been collected on amidst the pinyon/juniper stands dominating the area confirmed that we were at the right spot. I spent a fair bit of time beating the lower branches of the oaks—without success, and Paul also had no success beating the oaks on the other side of the small turn off from the highway. For awhile I turned my attention to the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fineleaf woollywhite) that were abundant in the area, collecting a few Acmaeodera diffusa from them, but eventually I turned my attention back to the oaks to give X. rameyi another shot by using the tropics net to better sample the higher branches that I hadn’t reached with the beating sheet. This yielded a single Agrilus sp. and a few other miscellaneous insects but still no X. rameyi. As I was sweeping the oaks with the tropics net, I encountered a pretty little pricklypear cactus in bloom that proved to be Opuntia aurea, off which I collected more A. diffusa. By now we’d been in the field all day and were feeling a bit exhausted, and failing to find either of our desired targets further decreased motivation, so we decided to make an ice run into town and take another shot at X. rameyi at the nearby type locality just outside of town.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
2 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah The type of Xylotrechus rameyi was reared from infested Acer negundo (boxelder maple) collected at this site, so we came here to look for boxelders that might be harboring adults of the species. Unfortunately, no boxelder trees were found anywhere in the area—in fact, the only trees of any kind that were seen was a few Populus fremontii (Fremont’s cottonwood). Failing to find any boxelder, I started looking for other flowering plants, but none were found except an isolated stand of Asclepias speciosa hosting a few large scoliid wasps, which I collected and gave to Mike. We decided to travel further down the river to try to see if boxelder occurred elsewhere but soon encountered a private property sign preventing further progress. By now it was getting late enough that we decided to head back to the campground to process the day’s catch and prepare dinner. It seemed the day would end without success on either of the day’s targets.
Habitat along Elephant Gap Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah When we got back to the campground, I looked at the dunes across the road and felt like I had to give Chrysobothris nelsoni one more shot. The season for it may have been late, but I reasoned that sooner or later I was bound to run into a straggler. If nothing else, I could cut into dead plants from the previous season in hopes of finding a reasonably intact cadaver from an adult that had failed to emerge this year.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Área—Kane Co., Utah.
As I was walking the dunes I collected a few bees on yellow form flowers of Opuntia aurea to give to Mike and continued looking (admittedly rather casually) at the Eriogonum alatum host plants dotting the dunes.
Scabrethia scabra (Badlands mule-ears) in sand dune habitat.
I’d been on the dunes for a while when suddenly the phone range—it was Ron Alten asking if I’d been successful in finding C. nelsoni after we’d talked in the morning. I confessed that I had not but took the moment to verify with him that I was looking at the correct host plant. He described it as a tall, single-stemmed, plant with a branching inflorescence and a basal rosette of elongated leaves. This increased my confidence that I was looking at the correct plants, and to confirm this I walked up to one of the plants to describe it to him. We had just begun discussing where on the plant the beetles occur when I looked at the basal rosette of leaves of the plant I’d walked up to, and there it was sitting right there—a bright metallic green beetle that clearly had to be C. nelsoni! I yelled out “I’ve got it!” and described it to Ron to assure him that I had, indeed, found the species, and then we marveled at the irony of finding my first individual at the very moment I was on the phone with the person who described it telling me how to find it!
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Success now in hand, I thanked Ron for his help and for checking back with me (I may have given up without finding the species had he not called me back) and continued my now much more deliberate search of other plants in the area. It would take another hour to find the second adult—again, sitting down on the basal rosette of leaves, but in the meantime I pulled several dead plants and found evidence of the larval workings in the crown of the plant.
Split plant view of damage by larvae of Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) in taproot of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
After finding the second individual, I reasoned that the setting sun made the prospect of finding additional individuals too low to warrant continuing the search and started heading back to the campground (anxious as heck to tell Paul and Mike the news!). Along the way, I found another Eleodes caudifera—apparently a male based on its highly elongated apical elytral projections—walking across sand.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) taken in sand dune habitat.
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Paul elected not to set up his lights at the campground, but rather bring them to the dunes across the road. The brightening moon and rapidly cooling evening temperatures, however, killed any desire I may have had to do the same. Instead, Mike and I chose to enjoy a few brews and dine on bratwurst cooked over an open flame while admiring the brightly moonlit western sky with its marvelous views of Venus and the Big Dipper. The next morning I found an Asemum sp. cerambycid dead on the floor inside my tent—apparently it had flown in the night before (perhaps following my flashlight) and then gotten stepped on.
The Big Dipper and the North Star a stand out in the night sky.
Day 10
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah Paul had planned to head back to Phoenix this morning while Mike and I headed further west. However, given my success late yesterday in finding Chrysobothris nelsoni still out we decided to spend a bit more time this morning to see if we could get some specimens for Paul and a few more for me. We broke down camp to give more time for temperatures to warm and the beetles to become active, then walked back over to the dunes across the road. After a quick tutorial session on what the plants look like and where the beetles could be found, we split up and checked plants in different areas of the dunes. It took an hour before I found the first adult of the day—sitting on the basal rosette of leaves just as both of the adults I encountered yesterday were doing. After another half-hour I saw an adult fly from a plant I was approaching, but I was able to chase it down and net it before it escaped. The last beetle I would see during the morning almost escaped as well, but I was able to secure it from its perch in the basal rosette of leaves. With three more specimens in hand, I decided that I had an acceptable series of adults and headed back to the campground, and when I got there Mike told me that Paul also had been successful (finding five individuals!) and had already left for Phoenix. Mission accomplished, we began what would be a mostly driving day to eventually reach Leeds Creek Canyon near St. George in far southwestern Utah.
Litaneutria sp. (ground mantis—family Mantidae) in sand dune.
Morsea sp. (monkey grasshoppers—family Eumastacidae) in sand dune.
Tradescantia occidentalis (prairie spiderwort, western—family Commelinaceae) in sand dune habitat.
The day was one of the most spectacular “transfer” days I’ve ever had on a collecting trip—our route took us right through the heart of Zion National Park! I knew of Zion’s reputation as one of Utah’s most stunning of national parks, but I really wasn’t prepared for just how stunning it is—massively expansive canyons etched in multicolored sandstone with jagged peaks and ridges. Every turn of the bend revealed a more spectacular vista then the previous, culminating in a precipitous drop down through the western canyon. Part of me wanted to stop at every turn and take a photograph, but I knew this would radically increase our travel time as I was constantly seeing sights more beautiful than the previous. I decided instead to wait until I came here again—as my wife and I have talked about—and do proper photography on a proper visit.
Leeds Canyon Washington County, Utah If leaving Zion felt like an end to the stunning vistas for the day, arriving at Leeds and making our way up the rough, rocky road into the canyon above was an unexpected surprise. Dry chaparral at the bottom gradually transitioned to pinyon/juniper woodland, with Gambel oak appearing at even higher elevations and eventually ponderosa pine forest once we surpassed 6000’ elevation. It was a Thursday before a holiday weekend, so we were a bit apprehensive about whether the campground at the top of the canyon would have any available spots and then pleasantly surprised to find it virtually empty with our choice of any spot. We chose one at the very back of the campground— well isolated from other sites, should they eventually become occupied, and with a stunning view through towering pines framing the canyon peaks towering above at heights of 10,000’.
View from our campsite at Oak Grove Campground—Leeds Canyon, Utah
The cool, moist air with low-hanging clouds belied recent rain and the likelihood of more on the way, but having been in the vehicle much of the day we were anxious to begin collecting and opted to explore rather than first setting up camp. I began by beat-sampling the living branches of the different trees around the campground but found nothing other than a few Elateridae on Pinus ponderosa, Quercus gambelii, and Cercocarpus ledifolius and a crabronid wasp inspecting holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa (maybe looking for potential nesting sites, or perhaps hunting?).
Trypoxylon sp. (family Crabronidae) inspects holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa for potential nesting sites.
We began hiking a trail off the west end of the campground, where we passed an enormous ponderosa pine—it’s crown damaged by lightning many years ago and a secondary leader taking its place, near which I encountered a pricklypear cactus with a couple of blooms of the brightest pink I’d ever seen. This proved to be the pink form Opuntia aurea (I’d seen the yellow form of this species yesterday near Coral Pink Sand Dunes), and nestled down in the flowers—apparently already a bedded down for the evening—was Acmaeodera diffusa.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
It was then that we felt the first raindrops, so we decided we’d better go back to the site and set up camp—lest we found ourselves doing it later in the rain, but as we hustled back the raindrops became larger and began falling with great intensity. Whipping winds soon accompanied the rain, making setting up the tent a real challenge, but we were able to setup the tent and bring our things inside—including our chairs for a place to hang out—before the heavy rain began. Curiously, the heavy rain never materialized, and quickly enough the winds as well subsided. As a bonus, the previous occupants had left some uncut bolts of mountain mahogany—completely dry and ready to burn if one was willing to cut them up. I did exactly that (it was some of the hardest wood I’ve ever encountered!), allowing us to enjoy yet another campfire on a cool mountain evening.
Mesmerizing campfire.
Day 11
We came to the canyon above Leeds based on the recommendation of Denanthony Fernandez. Denanthony and I have never met, but we’ve corresponded some and I know him to be an indefatigable collector of Buprestidae and Cerambycidae in the southwestern U.S. Denanthony was also kind enough to send GPS coordinates for some of the spots where he has collected within the canyon, ranging from pinyon/juniper woodland at the lower elevations to ponderosa pine and Gambel oak forest at the top. We decided to try the lower elevations first and then, depending on how successful we were, work our way up to the higher elevations. The first spot coincided with a creek crossing (it was gushing with water!) where we found a place to park and then started exploring. Immediately I found Acmaeodera bowditchi on the flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, but it was apparently an isolated plant and no other plants in bloom were found. I soon got distracted photographing a small lizard, while Mike started examining stands of a white-flowered shrub lining the roadway for bees. I began examining it as well, at first finding only several galerucine leaf beetles on its foliage.
Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Galerucine leaf beetle (family Chrysomelidae) on foliage of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Callophrys gryneus siva (Siva’s juniper hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually, however, Mike saw an Acmaeodera fly to one of its flowers, and when we started watching the plants more could be seen. We quickly realized that the plant was Eriodictyon angustifolium—the precise plant that Denanthony had mentioned as hosting a variety of Acmaeodera in the area. The beetles were sporadic at first and never really became abundant, but after some amount of time I had collected a decent series of what turned out to be A. angelica as well as one or two specimens each of A. bowditchi, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata on its flowers. While I was doing this, Mike wandered off and found a well-maintained little trail but reported only a single blooming pricklypear cactus off which he’d collected a few bees and a single A. diffusa. I decided to see if I could find it and bushwhacked in the direction he’d come from, encountering not one but several Opuntia woodsii with its salmon-colored flowers and collecting both A. diffusa and A. ligulata on them.
Opuntia woodsii (Woods’ pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
I decided to follow the trail to look for more pricklypear cactuses in bloom but had little luck. Beating was fruitless as I walked the trail, but eventually I saw a small creek from the trail (with the promise of plants in bloom) and found a spur in the trail that led me down to it. Creekside I found a few large patches of Psoralia tenuifolia actively visited by bees (collecting a few for Mike) but nothing else. However, in the other side of the creek (near an old historic kiln) I found several Heliomeris multiflora in bloom with A. bowditchi and bee on its flowers.
Historic kiln.
Heliomeris multiflora (showy goldeneye—family Asteraceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Frasera albomarginata (desert green gentian—family Gentianaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The spur ended at the kiln, but a foot trail continued through the woodland, which I followed hoping to find more plants in bloom. This resulted in limited success—I found single flowering individual of Cylindropuntia whipplei, off the flowers of which I collected a few A. quadrivittatoides, and Opuntia camanchica, off which I collected a single A. bowditchi (and a bee for Mike). At this point I decided we’d sampled this spot well enough and turned around to find Mike and head for the next spot up the road.
Cylindropuntia whipplei (whipple cholla—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Just one-half mile further up the canyon from the previous stop, we could already see the activity on the flowers of pricklypear cactus along the roadside as we drove up and parked. The first of such we approached was Opuntia woodsii, with its sumptuously salmon-colored blooms, and on this plant alone I collected several species of Acmaeodera including A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides from its flowers. Several blooming Opuntia camanchica—its flowers brighter yellow with salmon-colored centers—were growing nearby and attracting Acmaeodera in droves, and over the next hour or so I collected good series of the same species I’d collected from O. woodsii.
Acmaeodera bowditchi, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually I tired of finding more of the same on these two species of pricklypear cactus flowers and began looking for other flowers that may be harboring Acmaeodera. They were few and far between, but I did find a couple of Penstemon palmeri still in bloom (most seemed well past), one of which had a single A. ligulata on its flower, and a small area with a few Psoralea tenuiflora in bloom produced but a single Acmaeodera sp. (I could not decide at the time if it represented the common A. rubronotata or a small individual of the localized target A. knowltoni). As I searched, a male Okanagana utahensis singing in a nearby Quercus turbinella caught my attention, and I was able to sneak up on it and locate it. I noticed another individual nearby—a female attracted to the call in presumed—and after photographing it managed to capture the male (but not the female).
Okanagana sp. poss. utahensis (sagebrush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing in pinyon/juniper woodland.
By now I’d had enough of pricklypear cactus Acmaeodera, and Mike and I decided we had enough time in the day to try one more lower elevation spot—this one another mile or so up the canyon road.
We noticed oaks had become more abundant amongst the pinyons and junipers as we found a place to pull off the road, and almost immediately after getting out of the vehicle I noticed Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming much more abundantly along the road than the more spent-looking plants at the first stop that morning. Even before I had gotten ready, I saw an Acmaeodera ligulata and an A. pubiventris lanata on flowers of the plant closest to me—I managed to capture the former, but the latter eluded me (and of course I never saw another at that stop!), and I eventually collected good series of A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also collected a few non-buprestid beetles on the E. angustifolium flowers, including a red/black Saxinus sp. and a red/black Trichodes ornatus. Penstemon palmeri was in better bloom here, and I collected one Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers and a single Elateridae on Artimisia sp. (sagebrush). A bit further up the road Mike had found an even more robust stand of E. angustifolium in peak flower, from which I collected additional specimens of Acmaeodera angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also noticed more of the red/black Trichodes ornatus (red/black) and then realized that the several other beetle species on the flowers all seemed to be following a red/black coloration theme. These included Collops sp., Lycidae, and Coccinellidae (the latter which I did not collect).
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) female in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) on flowers of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Once we’d collected our fill, I got out the tropics net and spent some time sweeping the canopy of the Gambel oaks (common here but not further down the canyon), but I found no beetles and little else of interest. Beyond the trees, however, we found an east access to Leeds Creek, it’s course swollen with gushing water. We had been in the field all day and were quite hot, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to clean off and refresh myself in the clear mountain water. The rocky creek-bed and rapid current made securing footing (with bare feet) difficult, so proper handholds became paramount, and the frigid temperatures limited the time I could keep any part of my body submerged, but the refreshment and invigoration made it well worth the effort. What a fantastic way to wind down the day of collecting!
When we returned to the campground, we saw that every other site had become occupied (it was now Friday before a holiday weekend), and we thanked our lucky stars that we’d gotten here when we did and were able to claim such a choice spot! There was a fair bit of daylight remaining, so before starting dinner and settling down for the evening I wanted to return to the flowering Opuntia aurea that we’d found yesterday and check it again for Acmaeodera. I found the plant, but the flowers were now spent and nearly closed—their vivid pink now dulled and browned. However, I pried apart the petals and found, nevertheless, a couple of A. diffusa bedded down within the flower. I searched a bit more but did not find other cactus in bloom, so I returned to the campsite where Mike and I processed our day’s catch while we still had daylight.
The ”Bee Tree,” a 550 year-old ponderosa pine that has survived several forest fires and lightning strikes, one of which destroyed its crown—Oak Grove Campground.
Later in the evening as we were sitting by the campfire (still utilizing the super-hard mountain mahogany I’d cut up the day before), I saw a cerambycid beetle crawling on the ground towards the campfire. This proved to be Arhopalus productus, and over the next half-hour or so I found three additional individuals apparently attracted to the fire. As a final collecting act for the day, I decided to “walk the road” before going to be to see what beetles I might find walking nocturnally. I photographed a few interesting non-beetles, and near the furthest point before turning around I found a species of Zopherus that I take to be Z. uteanus.On the way back to the campsite, I checked the trunk of a massive, standing, recently-dead Pinus ponderosa in a nearby campsite. I had checked the tree several times during the day expecting to but not seeing woodboring beetles on it; however, this time I found another A. productus plus a few individuals of two species of Trogossitidae.
Ammopelmatus sp. (Jerusalem cricket—family Stenopelmatidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest. (I don’t find any known species with ranges extending into this area.)
Sclerosomatid harvestman (order Opiliones) feeding on tenebrionid beetle carcass in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Zopherusuteanus (family Zopheridae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
Day 12
Yesterday we checked several lower elevation spots in the canyon, so today we wanted to try the higher elevations. I still wasn’t sure I’d collected Acmaeodera knowltoni, thinking that specimens I’d collected at the lower elevations that could be small individuals of this species might actually be A. rubronotata instead, and guidance from Denanthony indicated that the species was not only more abundant but also the individuals larger (and this easier to distinguish from A. rubronotata) higher up in the canyon. Before going down to the highest of the spots recommended by Denanthony, we stoppped at a spot even further up in the canyon where profuse blooms of Penstemon palmeri could be seen blooming abundantly along the roadside (good for bees). This contrasted markedly with the paltry, sparse blooms we’d seen in the pinyon/juniper woodland at lower elevations, and we reasoned other plant species may also be blooming in greater abundance. Almost immediately getting out of the vehicle I found a new-for-the-locality flowering plant—Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch)—with several Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Right next to it was a single Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia in bloom with more of the same, but I hit the jackpot when I walked up the road a ways and found a rather large patch of these plants blooming abundantly and upon the flowers of which I collected numbers of not only A. bowditchi and A. diffusa, but also both A. knowltoni and A. rubronotata—the latter two easily distinguishable from each other not only by the larger size of A. knowltoni but also its uniformly orange rather than yellow elytral flecks with red towards the apices.
Acmaeodera knowltoni (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Acmaeodera knowltoni was also found along with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and Trichodes ornatus (red/black) on the flowers of Penstemon palmeri along the roadside leading up the road, and at the start of a trail leading off a nearby parking area I found the pink form of Opuntia aurea with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni on its flowers.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Penstemon palmeri (Palmer’s penstemon) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
A second species of Penstemon (P. linarioides) was common along the trail, which I checked it thoroughly for the presence of Acmaeodera, but the only beetles I found associated with its dark purple flowers was Trichodes ornatus. A small clump of A. wrightii was also found in this area, and in this case so found not only A. diffusa on its flowers but also A. knowltoni. The impressive numbers of Acmaeodera collected during the morning hours at this spot had me wondering what we would find at the next spot!
Penstemon linarioides (toadflax penstemon—family Plantaginaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland—flower.
A bit further down the canyon the Gambel oak woodland transitioned to scrub oak (Quercus turbinella) woodland with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming along the roadside.
Gambel’s oak woodland—Leeds Canyon, Utah.
Right beside the vehicle were some robust blooming Penstemon palmeri with Acmaeodera angelica and A. knowltoni on its flowers, and in the nearest stand of E. angustifolium I collected several more A. angelica, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni. I’d noticed even better stands of E. angustifolium a bit further down the road and walked to them—finding a bee for Mike on the flower of Diateria sp. (tansyaster) along the way, and then proceeded to collect nice series of the same plus not only A. bowditchi on the flowers but also a few specimens of A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides (these latter two the first I’d seen today).
Cucullia dorsalis (family Noctuidae) larva feeding on inflorescence of Dieteria sp. along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
After thoroughly examining the patches I’d seen, I walked back up to the vehicle to see how Mike had done, and he gave me a small Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. that he’d collected on the flower of Eremogone macradenia. He had seen the plant in only one spot a bit further up the road, so I walked up to the spot to see if I could find any more. I did not, but I did collect a couple of A. bowditchi on the flowers. By now I was famished and thirsty and felt I’d given the spot a good enough look, so I ate a bite of lunch and downed a bottle of Powerade (ask me why I prefer this brand over Gatorade) before heading to the next spot further down the canyon.
Eremogone macradenia (Mojave sandwort—family Caryophyllaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
This was another of the spots that Mike and I had noticed as a possible stop in addition to those recommended by Denanthony. It was below the third stop up the canyon that we’d visited the day before but above the second, mostly pinyon/juniper spot and, thus, still contained a lot of scrub oak (Quercus turbinellum) with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium along the road. We had to park down the canyon a bit to fully get off the road and then hiked back up to where we’d seen the stands. Along the way I found a single Opuntia camanchica in good bloom with several Acmaeodera visiting the flowers. These included A. bowditchi (of which I only took a few for the record given the number I collected on this cactus species the day before) but also A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides which were more interesting records for the cactus. Despite their robustness and profuse blooms, the E. angustifolium stands that prompted us to stop here produced very few Acmaeodera (or even bees, for that matter), but when I hiked further up the canyon I encountered some smaller stands in sparser bloom that produced at least a few individuals of nearly every other species of Acmaeodera that we had found in the canyon (A. angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. knowltoni, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata). As we’d approached the spot from above, I’d also noticed several stands of Heliomeris multiflora along the roadside as well, so I hiked up to them and was rewarded with A. ligulata on the flowers along with A. bowditchi and A. diffusa.
Acmaeodera angelica (family Buprestidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Having visited all of the spots up and down the canyon that Denanthony had recommended (except the area right around the campground, which we would explore the next day) and then some, we decided to go back to the first stop we made the day before—the lowest elevation spot in the canyon where we had collected—to see how it compared in the (now) late afternoon compared to mid- to late morning. It was hot, and I needed to eat and rehydrate, so I found a shaded spot to do that while Mike forged ahead. As I was getting ready to walk to the spot myself, Mike came back with a specimen of Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides that he had taken in flight near the stand of Eriodictyon angustifolium from which we’d had such good luck collecting the previous day. I had not seen this species during that first visit but found a few additional individuals this time, and the same went for A. knowltoni and A. ligulata (in fact, a single individual of A. pubiventris lanata was the only repeat species this time).
Coming back up the canyon, we stopped again at the first spot where we collected so Mike could pick up “bowl traps” that he had set out. (Bowl traps are commonly used by apiologists to sample bees in an area. Small plastic bowls, generally white, yellow, or blue in color, are filled with soapy water and placed on the ground. Bees mistake the colored bowls for flowers and drop into the soapy water when trying to land on it. Incidentally, these have proven effective also for flower-visiting species of Acmaeodera—Mike has given me many that he has collected over the years in his bowl traps, and I have begun using the technique myself.) While backing into the pullout, the tire pressure warning light suddenly came on, and I got out to see the left front tire hissing air and going flat. What ensued was a comedy of errors of epic proportions! We unloaded the back of the vehicle and got out the spare tire and jack, but we could not find a tire wrench anywhere in the vehicle. Mind you, the vehicle was purchased new last year, so it was unthinkable to me that it could have come without a tire iron! No problem, I thought—I’ll just call AAA. I had just enough cell service to make the call and endure the endless automated questions and call transfers before reaching a live person and submitting a service request. While I was waiting for service, I decided to walk back up to the spot where I’d had such good luck collecting A. knowltoni and other species in the genus on Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia to see how late afternoon collecting would compare (hang in there—the comedy of errors will ensue shortly). The S. grossulariifolia flowers were not open to the same degree as they were in the morning, but still the Acmaeodera were numerous on them and I added to my series of A. knowltoni (along with a few more A. bowditchi and A. diffusa for the record). As I walked back to the vehicle, a missed call notification came through on my phone. Apparently AAA had tried to contact me (unsuccessfully due to poor reception in the area I had walked to) and left a voicemail. When I called them back, they told me they couldn’t send a tow truck up an unpaved road. My explanation that I needed only a tire iron and not a tow truck fell on deaf ears, so when I hung up I told Mike there was nothing left to do but to walk up to the campground (thankfully less than a mile up the road) and see if I could bum a tire iron. As it turned out, I didn’t even have to walk all the way to the campground, as I encountered a family parked at the creek crossing below the campground. Dad rummaged through the back of his truck and produced a tire iron after I explained our predicament, and I was quickly on my way back to the vehicle. There was once positive from the walk—during the return leg, I was finally presented an opportunity to photograph a splendid individual of Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail)—a species that had eluded all my previous attempts to photograph it by refusing to even land anywhere, much less pose long enough to attempt a photograph!
Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flowers of Medicago sativa (alfalfa) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Returning to the vehicle, we were ready to change the tire and get the day back on track, but when I attempted to loosen the first lug the iron spun freely—it was too big! Who knew tire lugs came in different sizes? (Okay, maybe others know this, but it was news to me!) Just then a truck came by, so we waved him down and explained our predicament to the man driving and the several young men that he was clearly the boss of. It took them much more time to find it, but they finally produced a tire iron after some extensive rummaging through the truck’s tool chest. It looked to me exactly the first one I’d bummed, but I tried it anyway. Of course, the result was the same—it was too big! As Mike, the man, and his crew debated the next step, I got to thinking about how weird-looking the jack was that I’d pulled from my vehicle—it just didn’t make sense that a tire iron could have been mistakenly omitted from the spare tire compartment. I picked up the jack, looked it over carefully, and saw one part of it that had a lug socket-looking piece on it. I started fumbling with that part of the jack, and it suddenly detached from the jack proper—proving itself to be a custom-designed foldable tire iron! I felt like such an idiot, but I was so elated to have finally found the iron that I didn’t care. I showed the others what I’d found, and after a good laugh (either with me or at me, perhaps both) the man and his crew continued on their way and Mike and I proceeded to change the tire and get back on the road.
Mike assists with the tire change.
As a final collecting act (perhaps a momento for the flat tire fiasco), I found a tenebrionid beetle crawling on the road next to the vehicle while we changed the flat.
Safely back at the campground after our flat tire fiasco, we settled down to process the day’s (prodigious) catch. We again relished our choice site in the campground, with its stunning view and maximum privacy, and eventually prepared what had become our favorite dinner—“dirty burgers” (burgers cooked in a frying pan in which grease and drippings from previous days’ meals are allowed to accumulate).
“Dirty burgers” coll
Conditions still were not favorable for blacklighting (moon nearing full and coolish temps at such high elevation), so instead of setting up lights I waited for a bit after darkness fell and then wandered over to the giant recently-dead ponderosa pine in the neighboring campsite and checked it for beetles attracted to its trunk. Unlike the previous night, when only one longhorned beetle was found, this time I encountered multiple specimens of Arhopalus sp., Tetropium? sp., Trogosittidae, and Elateridae after repeated circuits around the giant tree trunk. Once no more beetles were found, I began walking the road up through and out of the campground. I was especially interested in seeing if I could find more of the Z. uteanus that I found the previous night and succeeded in finding three more (in almost the exact same place as the previous specimen) along with several tenebrionid beetles.
Coelocnemis punctata (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Eleodes (Blapylis) sp. (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
At the furthest point that I walked before turning back, towering ponderosa pines framed a stunning view of the moonlit canyon wall with the Big Dipper hanging perfectly over it—a perfect scene to capture using the iPhone’s night photography mode.
The Big Dipper shines above the canyon ridge.
Day 13
Our plan for the day was to leave the canyon and travel further west to a couple of localities (one near the border with Arizona, another just over it) where Ampheremus cylindricollis has been recorded to occur before at last starting back to the east and traveling to Jacobs Lake, Arizona. First, however, we couldn’t leave the canyon without giving a good look at the highest elevations in the canyon. We had seen wild rose (Rosa woodsii) in bloom just below the campground each of the past two mornings but no beetles upon them; however, the time needed to break down camp had us leaving the campground a bit later in the day with correspondingly higher temps.
Upper Leeds Creek.
When we reached the creek crossing where the roses were growing, we could see gobs of beetles in them even before we parked and got out of the vehicle! With the first tap of a flower over the net I got a couple of Acmaeodera knowltoni and nearly two dozen Anthaxia sp.! The latter were clearly members of the subgenus Haplanthaxia, meaning the species was A. caseyi—the only western U.S. species of the subgenus (as opposed to the subgenus Melanthaxia, of which there are many western U.S. species). However, several A. caseyi subspecies have been described, and it will require closer examination to determine which (if any) of the described subspecies this population pertains to. The buprestids were so abundant on the rose flowers that I quickly collected sufficient series of each and turned my attention to examining the beetles in the flowers carefully to look for any that represented other species. In the end, I found just one Acm. bowditchi, two Acm. diffusa, and a few Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. in addition to the dozens of A. knowltoni and hundreds (literally!) of A. caseyi seen (also a couple of Curculionidae).
Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (family Buprestidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Acmaeodera knowltoni and Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (both family Buprestidae) in flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Xylota flavitibia (family Syrphidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
After getting my fill of rose visitors, I set about to see what other beetles I might find in the area, which had experienced a burn in the past year or two (though not stand-killing). Nothing was found beating any of the dead branches, whether pine or oak, and the only beetles I found beating living trees was Curculio sp. on Quercus gambelii. Near a small tributary of the main creek I found Aquilegia formosa (western columbine) and Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower) in bloom, the latter with a few A. knowlton and A. caseyi on its flowers. The only other plant I could find in flower in the area was Erigeron flagellaris, and while I looked at many plants I found only a single A. knowltoni on one of its flowers. I’d hoped to find more on the dead wood (especially non-Acmaeodera, which were the preponderance of buprestids I collected in the canyon over the past few days), but I was happy to have added at least a couple of Anthaxia spp. and increased my series of (and recorded flower hosts for) A. knowltoni.
Aquilegia formosa (western columbine—family Ranunculaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower—family Phrymaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane—family Asteraceae) in recently burned (2 years?) ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
It was now near midday, so we decided we should find our way back to civilization and get the flat tire fixed so we could check the two westernmost localities and make it to the Jacobs Lake area by evening.
Santa Clara River Reserve Washington County, Utah After spending a couple hours of our afternoon in Hurricane, Utah (what a name!) getting yesterday’s flat tire fixed at a Walmart (what a cultural experience that was—imagine Appalachia meets Mexico with a touch of Salt Lake City!!), we drove a half-hour to a site in the extreme southwestern corner of the state to look for Ampheremus cylindricollis—a species I have not yet collected myself and which should be associated with Eriogonum inflatum. We had gradually dropped in elevation during the day (we were nearing the western edge of the Colorado Plateau), and by the time we reached the site we were under 3000’ — the lowest we have been at any time in this trip (including northwestern Oklahoma!). The drop in elevation meant an increase in temperature, and when we arrived the thermostat read 109°F (the second-highest temperature I’ve ever experienced while collecting [my PR is a blistering 115°F in the Glamis Dunes of southern California]). Despite the heat, I was anxious to start collecting because I could see stands of Eriogonum as we drove down the road towards the parking lot—except it was not E. inflatum but rather a smaller species that I determined to be E. deflexum (flatcrown buckwheat). Nevertheless, I began sweeping it and quickly found a tiny buprestid that I did not immediately recognize. Buoyed by this unexpected surprise, I swept more of the plants and quickly came up with two more specimens. With three now in hand, I couldn’t wait any longer to know what species it represented, so I checked my sources and determined it must be Anambodera nebulosa—perhaps an even better catch than A. cylindricollis because not only have I never collected it, but neither is it even represented in my collection by a specimen I’ve gotten from someone else. (I am also unsure whether the host plant has been recorded or if it has ever been collected in Utah.) At that point, I started sweeping every Eriogonum plant I could find (including a few E. inflatum, which I did find up the hill a ways) but persistently came up empty. It was not until I’d worked my way to the first parking area and swept the last stand of E. deflexum on that side of the road that I eventually found a fourth individual. Considering how much work it took to find them (and the extreme heat in which I was doing it), I gave only a half-hearted attempt to plants on the other side of the road as I walked back to the car (with predictably unsuccessful results). I also failed to find A. cylindricollis, but I had one more locality that I wanted to check so I remained optimistic.
Tukuoetsi Trailhead, Santa Clara River Reserve—Washington County, Utah
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area MojaveCounty, Arizona It took us another half hour to make it to Virgin River Canyon — a Bureau of Land Management Recreation Area just inside the northwestern-most corner of Arizona as one drops down from the Colorado Plateau into the Great Basin.
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area—Mojave County, Arizona
This was the other spot I had where I might be able to collect Ampheremus cylindricollis, and if we thought the last stop was hot, this one was extreme — a sweltering 112°F! Unfortunately, we drove throughout the area and did not see any stands of Eriogonum inflatum (the host plant for A. cylindricollis) — or any species of Eriogonum for that matter. Nevertheless, we got out our nets and began looking around, as there were other flowering plants present (Baileya and Hymenopappus). Nothing was seen in them at first (although Mike eventually found a true desert bee species on the lone still-flowering individual of the latter), so I took the short Canyon Scenic Overlook Trail to its terminus. I was glad I did, as there were some very informative interpretive signs about the geology of the area, but the overwhelming heat had me wilting quickly and I worked my way back to the car.
Looking down into the Great Basin.
Multicolored cliffs at the edge of the Colorado Plateau.
I’m not sure where in the area the host plant occurs, but it is not at this spot. With no other potential collecting localities identified in the area — and having reached the westernmost extent of the trip, we turned back towards the east and started heading for Jacobs Lake in the Kaibab Mountains of northern Arizona.
The beginning of our eastward return towards the Kaibab Plateau was uneventful, although we became increasingly concerned when a smoke plume appeared on the horizon and the closer we got to reaching our destination (Jacobs Lake Campground) the more it seemed that that was also the location of the fire. When we got up on top of the plateau, we discovered a vast swath of its northern portion had already been devastated in an obviously very hot (i.e., stand replacing) wildfire within the past couple of years, only increasing our fears about what we might find. Fortunately, the devastation ended some miles before we reach Jacobs Lake (and the smoke plum—a controlled burn, was still some miles beyond), but when we reached the campground we were sorely disappointed to find not a single spot available even on a Sunday night (though admittedly still a holiday weekend leading into July 4th). Our only choice was to turn around and head down off the plateau into the tiny town of Fredonia, where we found a room at an odd little complex of duplex units.
Grand Canyon Motel—Fredonia, Arizona.
Day 14
Our hopes of good coffee in the morning were dashed when the ‘Closed’ sign in the small bakery across the street remained in place, so we were forced to visit one of the two local gas stations where I unintentionally eavesdropped on a group of local Arizona Republicans that had claimed the available breakfast seating area (hiding the rips in my jeans as a result—it’s a weird story!) before driving back up onto the plateau and through the devastation to LeFevre Overlook.
Dinosaurs everywhere out west!
Le Fevre Overlook Kaibab National Forest CoconinoCounty, Arizona The pinyon/juniper woodland at this spot was not completely without impacts from the recent wildfires but did not exhibit the wholesale devastation seen further back. Immediately after starting out—not even 10 meters from the vehicle—I encountered a dead Pinus edulis with tantalizingly loose bark that said “peel me!” Peeling back the first slab gave an immediate payoff—an Arhopalus montanus that had taken shelter under the loose bark. I peeled back another piece and found another individual, and by the time I had peeled the entire trunk I had a nice series of a half-dozen specimens.
Arhopalusmontanus (family Cerambycidae) under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Peeling the bark revealed not only longhorned beetles but also Buprestis-sized emergence holes in the sapwood, one of which still contained a dead individual that had failed to emerge from the wood. I carefully chipped away at the surrounding wood until I was able to extract the cadaver—a nearly intact B. prospera—another target for the trip and now a new addition to my cabinet!
Buprestis prospera (family Buprestidae) intact carcass in emergence hole under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
As I worked I was approached by several tourists curious about what I was doing. I cheerfully fielded their questions and even showed the specimens to those interested, having long ago stopped seeing these as annoying interruptions but rather opportunities to present the science of entomology in a favorable light. I did not extend the same courtesy to a particular Arizona Republican, who pulled up in his large pickup (white, with giant tires of course) and got out packing an intentionally visible sidearm. I’m thinking “Who in the hell does this man think he’ll meet that he needs to be able to shoot them?” That’s some compensation if I ever saw it! I hoped he wouldn’t want to engage, but no such luck—when he asked me what I was doing, I just said “kinda busy” in an attempt to abort any further interaction. This worked, and I was relieved to not have to tell him more directly not to approach me. I worked several other dead pinyon pines in the area the same way but was not able to replicate the success I’d had at that first tree, so I began beating the living trees in the area to see if adults of other woodboring species were out and about. Indeed they were, producing several individuals of one of a sculptured Chrysobothris sp., a small species of Acanthocinini, and a giant male Monochamus clamator.
Monochamus clamator (spotted pine sawyer—family Cerambycidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Across the road I spotted a recently wind-thrown branch of P. edulis, and crossing the road to reach it was worth the effort—I was able to collect a nice series of what I believe is Chrysobothris cuprascens (another species I’ve not collected previously) as well as a few specimens of the sculptured Chrysobothris sp. I’d collected earlier (I presume).
Demonstrating the “finger tap” method that is useful for collecting Chrysobothris spp. on dead branches.
Working my way to a large standing recently dead P. edulis nearby, I encountered and netted a small histerid beetle in flight, but on the trunk of the tree itself I found only a few Enoclerus sp. (perhaps E. lecontei) and no Buprestidae or Cerambycidae. I went back to the fallen branch to see if I could collect a few more C. cuprascens, which I did but also found one being preyed upon by an Enoclerus sp. and collected predator and prey together. Mike was having only moderate luck with bees (due to a dearth of plants in bloom), and since I’d gotten a good enough look at the area we decided to move further up the plateau.
We drove further south onto the higher elevations of the plateau, the scrubby pinyon/juniper woodlands being gradually replaced by forests of tall, stately ponderosa pine. Gone also were the devastating effects of recent wildfires, replaced by evidence of active fire management practices intended to minimize accumulation of wood fuel and controlled burns that leave their telltale black signatures at the base of the trees but do not kill them. The result of these efforts was a rich ground layer of ceanothus, lupine, and other shrubs and forbs in full bloom.
4 mi NW Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona I spotted a large, recently wind-thrown ponderosa pine as we drove, it’s faded gray-green suggesting it might be the right age to look for woodboring beetles running along its trunk and branches, and stopped the vehicle at the nearest pull-off. There was so much blooming ceanothus around that Mike barely had to walk before he started finding bees visiting the flowers. I searched them also for Buprestidae and Cerambycidae but found none, but my immediate objective was to hike back to the fallen tree I’d seen from the highway. Along the way I continued—for a while—to check the ceanothus flowers but eventually quit doing this when it was clear no beetles were utilizing them at this time, and the occasional small dead tree and fallen branch also failed to produce any beetles running along them. At one point before reaching the fallen giant I encountered a huge, standing dead ponderosa pine with mostly intact but tantalizingly loose bark and promptly began peeling it. The bark was still semi-attached but easily peeled off in large chunks, occasionally revealing galleries packed with moist, fibrous frass that usually surrounded a large entrance hole into the sapwood. Eventually in one of these galleries I found a huge cerambycid larva that, based on size alone but also the presence of distinct legs I take to be Trichocnemis spiculatus—common in ponderosa pine in Arizona and one of only very few species with larvae of this size. I collected it in an attempt to rear to adulthood and did the same with another found under the bark of a nearby tree—others were later found boring into the slightly punky sapwood of the first tree.
Likely Trichocnemis spiculatus (spined woodborer—family Cerambycidae) larva under slightly loose bark on trunk of large, standing, recently dead Pinus ponderosa.
Eventually I reached the large, recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa that was the reason for the stop. The lower half of the massive trunk was propped up at eye level by the branches that snapped and impaled into the ground when it fell, making it easy to scan both its upper sunlit and lower shaded surfaces for any sign of movement. None was seen at first, but eventually tiny Enoclerus sp. (prob. lecontei) were seen running along the trunk. Continued searching scared up a Chalcophora angulicollis, which flew to and landed clumsily on the tree’s exposed root-wad, and several Chrysobothris sp. prob. dentipes were seen on the sunny surface but only one captured. The upper branches of the tree were no more productive—only a single Chrysobothris sp. (not C. dentipes) was found after thoroughly searching them.
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer—family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
I continue to peel bark on the way back to the car, finding only a dead Trogosittidae under loose bark on the lower trunk of a large dead Pinus ponderosa, and by the time I’d returned to the vehicle I was not overly impressed with the spot. Mike, however, was having tremendous success collecting bees, not only from the ceanothus but other flowers as well, so I decided to cross the highway and check out some standing dead pines that I could see from afar. As I started out, I noticed movement on a small, newly-fallen branch of P. ponderosa right next to me and saw that it was a Chrysobothris sp.—colllecting not only that one but another that flew to the branch while I was putting the first one in the bottle. As I crossed the road and walked towards the trees, I noticed another fallen giant ponderosa pine looking very much like the first one I’d seen from the highway and veered towards it. Immediately upon approach I saw the zippy movement and escape flight of a Chrysobothris, its identity belied by the green flash of its abdominal tergites as it took flight. Continued searching along its trunk produced not only C. dentipes but also several Phaenops gentilis.
Phaenops gentilis (family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Nothing was seen on the lower portions of the branches, but beating the upper needled portions produced many Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei) and what I at first took to be a very small species of Oedemeridae. Something about them, however, gave me pause, and I got out the lens to take a closer look at them. I’m glad I did, because they turned out not to be ordemerids, but rather tiny cerambycids of the genus Phymatodes! I continued beating the branches to find more and eventually collected a nice series of them. Ironically, the standing dead trees that first caught my attention had nothing on them. By now, we were anxious to get to Jacob Lake Campground to see if, on a Monday, we could now claim a site. Only a few sites were available, most of them in undesirably exposed settings, but luck was with us when we found a large, nicely shaded site that was well-distanced from those surrounding it. We claimed the spot and then went back out to take advantage of what remained of the afternoon.
Driving south of Jacob Lake on Hwy 67 took us directly into the area subject to the controlled burn that had caused the smoke plume that concerned us the day before. Smoldering embers dotted the blackened understory, but the tall pines above, their foliage bright and green, belied the controlled nature of the burn. I wanted to get out and look for Melanophila spp., which are famously attracted to smoldering remnants of forest fires, but access to the public was closed for obvious safety reasons.
7 mi S Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona Clearing the burn area we encountered a more open forest that had clearly been ravaged by an uncontrolled fire within the last couple of years—perhaps the same one that had devastated so much of the northern edge of the plateau, but along the margins where the damage was less severe we saw stands of flowering trees that proved to be Robinia neomexicana. I expected to find Agrilus egenus on the living foliage, and that is what I found in numbers. There were a few large, standing, dead Pinus ponderosa—under the loose bark on the lower trunk of one I found a Trogosittidae and on the lower trunk of another I captured several Xylotes sp. flies that were clearly attracted to the tree.
Agrilus egenus (family Buprestidae) on foliage of living Robinia neomexicana in aspen grove in burned ponderosa pine forest.
Not much else was found of interest, so we decided to drive further south into even higher elevations. This eventually led out of the area of devastation into an area of high alpine meadows with interesting, ground-hugging species of flowering plants but little of interest in the way of insects.
High elevation alpine meadow.
Phlox austromontana (mountain phlox—family Polemoniaceae) in high elevation alpine meadow.
The afternoon by then passing into evening, we returned to the campground and spent a very comfortable night sleeping at altitude.
Day 15
A couple weeks ago I noticed Facebook posts by Joel Dubois, who had collected some nice species near Farmington. I thought the area might be a nice stopping point for collecting as we began to work our way back to St. Louis in earnest, and Joel was kind enough to send me location information for where he had collected. It would be a 5½-hour drive from our campsite at Jacob Lake, so instead of a leisurely morning enjoying our coffee, we broke camp early and were on the road by 8 am.
A relict from simpler days.
The drive down off the Kaibab Plateau and across northern Arizona was as spectacular as any we’ve seen during the trip, and we marveled at the myriad bizarre rock formations, multicolored canyon walls, and desolate volcanic ash landscapes. It was tempting to stop and explore along the way, but we kept our noses to the grindstone and reached the site by mid-afternoon.
Brown Springs Campground Glade Run Recreation Area San JuanCounty, New Mexico The place looked extremely dry and dusty, but we reserved judgment until we actually got out and sampled for a while (the lessons of experience). Sadly, our initial impression was confirmed, and almost nothing was seen on any plant other than a few tiny Dasytinae and bees on flowers of Stanleya pinnata (“Bees are everywhere.”—Mike Arduser). Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, we quickly ended our explorations and headed for the next spot.
“Bees are everywhere!”—Michael S. Arduser
Above Pump Canyon San Juan County, New Mexico I visited this canyon once many years ago with fellow beetle-enthusiast Paul Kaufman while he lived in Farmington. Paul collected some nice beetle species from the canyon while he lived here, so I scheduled it as one of our collecting localities for later in the trip as we worked our way back to St. Louis. It was only an hour drive from the previous spot, so we were a little concerned if it would prove to be as dry and lifeless as the previous spot. The presence, however, of pinyon pine and juniper as we worked our way up the canyon created some optimism, with the sighting of ponderosa pines near the top of the canyon being especially welcome.
Top of Pump Canyon.
Top of Pump Canyon.
The first thing I noticed starting out was a small stand of Eriogonum alatum—the same plant that serves as the host for Chrysobothris nelsoni in southwestern Utah! I thought it unlikely that I would find the species here as well, but of course I had to look at the plants anyway. As I did, I noticed two species of clytrine leaf beetles feeding on the inflorescences; one a large, chunky species and the other a much smaller one. I collected a few of each, but buprestids were what I was after and thus turned my attention to the two species of pine in the area—Pinus edulis on top of the mesa and P. ponderosa at its edge and down in the canyon. I’d beaten the branches of several dead P. edulis and chopped around the base of a large, standing dead P. ponderosa—both with no success, when I spotted another large, standing dead P. ponderosa across the road. As I approached it I noticed the metallic green of a Buprestis (Cypriacis) sp. partial carcass on the ground beneath it. It is probably B. aurulenta, but I can’t discount the possibility of it being B. prospera since pinyon pine also occurs in the area—a more specific identification will have to await close examination when I get home. The tree itself produced nothing, so I turned and saw a cut stump of Pinus edulis that was apparently half-live, half-dead when it died or was cut and that exhibited emergence holes of Buprestis on the barkless dead half. I began chipping away at the stump with my hatchet hoping to find an intact carcass of whatever species had made the emergence holes and quickly encountered one in an emergence hole that had not quite reached the exterior when it died. It looks to me like the image I’ve seen of Buprestis pinyoni and the host is right; if it is that species, it would be a really nice find as it was one of my (admittedly long-shot) targets for the trip!
Buprestis pinyoni? (family Buprestidae) cadaver cut from stump of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Finding the last two carcasses motivated me to continue looking for other evidence of the species, and I beat/chopped/peeled bark from a number of dead pines of both species but did not find any more individuals—either live or dead. I did, however, enjoy the spectacular views of the head of the canyon (essentially a sandstone box canyon). I found more Eriogonum on the other side of the canyon, on one of which was another of the smaller clytrine leaf beetle species, and I also collected two tiny bees in the flower of Penstemon sp. (blue) for Mike. Finally, when I returned to the car I noticed the characteristically “flagged” branch of a small Quercus gambelii that had been pruned by a cerambycid larva. I peered inside the hole at the cut end of the branch and saw the culprite inside, so I collected the branch and trimmed it to bring it back for rearing. By now it was getting into the evening hours and there seemed to be little other insect activity going on, so we made the one-hour drive to Navajo Lake State Park—keeping our fingers crossed that the holiday crush had subsided and that we would be able to find a nice campsite (preferably with shade!).
Cottonwood Campground Navajo Lake State Park San Juan County, New Mexico The campground as a whole was less than impressive—typical of state park campgrounds that look more like a suburban neighborhood than remote wilderness. It was nearly full, but a few spots remained at the back of the area. Remarkably, these were some of the most delightful spots in the entire campground—ensconced within a grove of large cottonwood trees and well isolated from the cluster of RVs and giant pickup trucks (mostly white, with giant wheels of course) populating the bulk of the campground. After setting up camp and cooking “dirty burgers” for dinner, I walked the campground loop to look for beetles crawling on the road and attracted to the lights at the restrooms. There was not much at the lights, only one sculptured tenebrionid and one nondescript elaterid (along with numbers of a small melolinthine, which I did not collect); and I found two Tenebrionidae walking the road near the restroom and our campsite. [Edit: the “sculptured tenebrionid” turned out to be a great find—Trogloderus verpus, described recently by Andrew Johnston.] Tomorrow will be another driving day, with about six hours to go before reaching our next destination—Mills Canyon in northeastern New Mexico.
Trogloderus verpus (family Tenebrionidae) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland. This species was described in 2019 by Andrew Johnston.
Armadillidium vulgare (common pill woodlouse—order Isopoda) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland.
Day 16
The drive from Navajo Lake to Mills Canyon was by any definition the most memorable of the trip. It was a study of contrasts, from remote mountain forests and barren high plains to dramatic canyon descents that dumped us out rather abruptly onto the western reaches of the vast Great Plains. There was also drama—some of it self-made and some of it thrust upon us. Leaving Navajo Lake State Park, we were a bit concerned to find no open gas stations in nearby Navajo City, and with no cell service anywhere in the area we had to rely on an old road atlas to plan our route. A wrong turn before we figured this out didn’t help, but the gauge still indicated we had sufficient fuel to make it to a “town” about halfway to Dulce with plenty to spare. Getting onto Hwy 64, we quickly came upon a trio of vehicles led by an old pickup truck driving far below the speed limit and veering worrisomely from side to side on the winding, mountain road. Passing was impossible with the continuous double yellow lines, so we settled into fourth position and watched with increasing concern as the truck shortcut every leftward curve, blind or not and sometimes completely crossing the double yellow, and ran partially or completely off the right bank with every rightward curve of the road. Calling 911 was an impossibility with the complete lack of cell service, so we helplessly followed for mile after mile hoping and praying that we wouldn’t be forced to witness a most horrific head-on collision or tumbling rollover off the right bank. At various times the truck would speed up, seemingly without reason and often well exceeding the posted speed limit to disappear off in the distance, only to slow back down to well under the speed limit and reform the caravan of worried witnesses. To make matters worse, the “town” halfway to Dulce did not exist—we reached it to find only an arroyo and leaving us biting our lips whether we would reach Dulce—about 15 miles beyond the “zero” mark on my fuel gauge! The truck sped on ahead for much of the latter half of the drive to Dulce, allowing us to worry only about our fuel situation and devise action plans should we run out of fuel short of town and with no cell service, and when we hit the zero mark 15 miles from town the real sweating began. With about five miles to go, we quickly came upon the truck, once again driving at a snail’s pace and veering just as badly as ever from side to side. It did give us something else to worry about, but I was happy to drive slowly to maximize fuel efficiency, and the long final descent into town further helped in that regard. I was elated to make it into town but then horrified to see the truck make the same turns we were making and then slowly crawl into the first available service station—would I really run out of gas just short of the pump because of this guy?! Fortunately that did not happen, and I could only let out a sigh of relief as I was finally able to get out from behind the slowly crawling truck and zip up next to a pump. The truck ambled into the bay next to us, and we were anxious to see if the driver was somehow impaired or merely drunk! Much was explained as we watched the most elderly of men slowly exit the vehicle, oblivious to everything around him, and pop the hood of his truck. As we gassed up, a police vehicle pulled up in front of the truck, and the officer driving asked the elderly gentleman if everything was okay. I didn’t eavesdrop further, but when the officers appeared satisfied with their conversation and about to drive off, I discretely motioned for them to come over. I explained what we had seen for the past hour plus following the old man all the way from Navajo Lake, generating enough concern on the police officers’ part that they not only again made contact with the man but also called a backup unit. We did not get to see how things turned out—the officers told us we were free to leave, but hopefully they were able to reach a family member or friend that could come to the old man’s aid and get him off the road. I felt sorry for the old man, but at the same time we very probably prevented an accident that could have injured or even killed somebody, whether it be the old man himself or another motorist through no fault of their own. Freshly gassed up and all drama now over, we continued east. The village of Taos offered some entertainment—“green” housing developments west of town were a marked contrast to the ramshackle used bus/camper neighborhoods that preceded them, a gathering of artists’ kiosks at a rest stop just outside town offered a chance to view local talent (I couldn’t pass up the aspen burl carved to a sheep skull!), and the city of Taos itself merged adobe-themed architecture with artsy-fartsy flair.
Artists’ market outside of Taos, New Mexico.
The work of one artist—faces carved into wood burls—caught my interest.
We have a winner—sheep’s head made from an aspen burl.
The transition back into the Great Plains marked a dramatic change in scenery, and we watched entire thundercloud systems bloom at various points in the distance—one seemingly in the area of our destination. It passed over us just as we stopped to replenish groceries in nearby Springer, and I hoped against hope that we would not arrive late in the afternoon to a drenched landscape with insect activity already having ceased for the day. The rain held off as we got closer and closer, although a bull snake (Pituophis catenifer sayi) did defiantly hinder our path as we neared our destination.
Thunderstorms in the distance.
Pituophis catenifer sayi (bullsnake) crossing the road in shortgrass prairie (and not pleased with our trespass!).
When we arrived at the canyon we checked out the Rim Campground above the canyon and then the Canyon Campground down below. The road down the canyon was narrow and rocky but afforded some spectacular views of what essentially is the edge of a large break from the plateau above and the plains below. After looking around the canyon bottom (and seeing another bull snake that was even more cantankerous than the one we’d seen atop the plateau), we decided that the floral diversity above was more interesting and, thus, would give better odds for insect collecting.
The Canadian River cuts deep into Mill Canyon.
Another ornery bullsnake!
Mill Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico By the time we reached the campground back on top of the canyon, thunderclouds had moved ominously close and repeated flashes of lightning followed closely by cracks of thunder forced us to sit in the car until the feeling of danger had passed. Once it did, we started exploring the immediate vicinity of the campsite, although the fresh rain—in my experience usually a killer of insect activity if it happens late in the afternoon, gave me little reason to be optimistic. I noticed an enticingly freshly dead Pinus edulis at the edge of our campsite, walked up to it, and whacked to one of its branches over my beating sheet. Off fell a fine Alaus lusciosus—a species I have not collected before, and closer inspection of the tree revealed not only several cicadas (Hadoa duryi) on its branches, but also a couple of Zopherus concolor on its trunk. (I would come back to this tree repeatedly over the rest of the evening and the next day!)
Alaus lusciosus (Texas eyed click beetle—family Elateridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Hadoa duryi (orange-and-black cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
As I was searching the tree, I saw a Buprestis sp. land on and run up the trunk of the tree before quickly taking flight to a nearby living tree. With this, I decided to start beating the various living trees around the campsite, trying the one I’d seen the Buprestis fly to (which yielding nothing) before moving to another nearby tree and seeing a fine B. consularis land on my sheet! This is another species I’ve not collected before [Edit: I now think it possible or even likely that the species is actually B. laeviventris], but despite continued beating I never got another one after that. (I suspect it may have been the same individual that I saw on the dead tree and that species was near the end of its activity period due to the lateness of the hour.)
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Beating other trees also was fruitless, the only thing of interest being a single clerid beetle beaten from a living branch of Quercus×undulata. Flowers seemed abundant around the campsite, but the only beetle I found on them was the quite pedestrian Batyle ignicollis on Ratibida tagetes. It seemed clear that the combination of rain and a sinking sun had put an end to much of the insect activity in the area. With that, we set up camp and then kicked back for a bit before cooking dinner.
Gorgeous colors announce the setting sun.
Eastern skies still ominous and threatening!
Despite the prior rain, I was strongly considering setting up the lights—the temperatures seemed like they were not cooling off too much, and the continued threat of storms from surrounding cloud systems combined with a finally-past-full moon created a situation that I’ve often found is conducive to bringing insects to the lights.
Mercury-vapor and ultraviolet lights humming as an unsettled evening descends into darkness.
In addition to setting up the lights (both mercury-vapor and ultraviolet), I also got out the prionic acid lure (that Paul had given me) and placed it on the table at dusk. Almost immediately, a large male Prionus californicus came flying into the campsite, landed near the lure, and crawled about frantically while erratically waving its antennae trying to locate what it thought was a calling female. Several more males flew into the campsite over the next half-hour before darkness fell completely and I put the lure away.
Prionus californicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure at dusk in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
By now the lights had caused a fair gathering of insects to amass on the sheet, but other than a rather abundant small melolonthine scarab they were almost all moths—temps were not quite high enough to “bring the beetles.” There were two exceptions—one minor (another male P. californicus), and one major (a male P. emarginatus, first time collecting the species for me!).
Prionus emarginatus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to UV/MV lights in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Oh, and remember that dead P. edulis in the campsite? I not only collected several more Z. concolor from its trunks and branches after dark but also a nice series of Eutrichillus neomexicanus. Considering how un-optimistic I was regarding our collecting prospects for the spot after arriving so late in the day—and after rain at that, it was an incredible stretch of good collecting for the spot!
Automeris zephyria (zephyr eyed silkmoth—family Saturniidae) at mercury vapor/ultraviolet light in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Day 17
Our original plan after arriving yesterday had been to see how collecting was in the area and then make a decision whether to remain (if the collecting was good) or travel further east into the Texas panhandle) to one of several state parks that had caught my interest. The collecting we experienced yesterday—obviously—warranted continued collecting for at least another day, so rather than tearing down camp to get back on the road we were able to leisurely enjoy our morning coffee before striking out. My first target was the dead P. edulis right in our campsite that had produced so many interesting insects yesterday. Inspection of its trunk and branches revealed more of the cicadas (Hadoa duryi) that were abundant in the area, a few of which I collected, and beating its branches produced yet another series of E. neomexicanus.
Eutrichillus neomexicanus (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
I would return to this tree repeatedly during the day hoping to see more Buprestis consularis/laeviventris, and in the late afternoon I finally got my wish as several individuals visited the tree and searched along its trunk.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
In the meantime, I began searching other campsites in the campground to see if I could find other P. edulis at the right stage of “deadness.” None were found, but I did find an old dead P. edulis stump that exhibited Buprestis-sized emergence holes and from which I chopped the remnants (prothorax and elytra) of an adult B. consularis that had failed to emerge. The first flower-visiting insects of the day were found when I wandered over to a small water tank with lush vegetation around its margins. Acmaeodera sp. nr. mixta/immaculata, and a chrysomelid beetle were taken on a flower of Engelmannia peristenia, and Paranapiacaba tricincta (in outbreak numbers) and several melyrid beetles were swept from vegetation near Cucurbita foetidissima in full bloom.
Burnsius communis (common checkered skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower of Engelmannia persistencia in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Even more beetles were collected on the other side of the pond, where flowers of Ratibida columnifera produced more of the same Acmaeodera along with Batyle ignicollis, B. suturalis, a single Typocerus confluens, and several melyrid beetles, bees, and wasps. Another B. ignicollis was also collected on the flower of Hymenopappus tenuifolius.
Typocerus confluens (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Pterocheilusquinquefasciatus (family Vespidae) on flower of Ratibidacolumnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Perdita (Cockerellia) sp. (family Andrenidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Papilio multicaudata (two-tailed swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flower of Cirsium undulatum in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
After looking at most the flowers in the area, I notice tiger beetles running in a barren wet ditch running from the pond towards the road. Catching several of them revealed two species present: Cicindelidia punctulata (most exhibiting the green coloration of subspecies C. p. chihuahuae) and C. sedecimpunctata.
Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Cicindela sedecimpunctata (western red-bellied tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Just as I was finishing up with the tiger beetles, a huge beetle flew into the area. It was so large it sounded like a diesel engine in flight, and after getting a good glimpse at it I realized it was Prionus heroicus! I collected this species during my previous visit to this spot (some 10 years ago) using prionic acid lures to attract them, and I suspect in this case the beetle was attracted to residual prionic acid on my hands after handling the lure last night.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to prionic acid lure during the afternoon in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland. Prionuscalifornicus and P. emarginatus also occur at this site; however, they are active during dusk (former) or at night (latter).
The area outside the fence surrounding the campground (and subject to grazing) didn’t look too interesting, so I walked through the campground back to our campsite to try my luck in a large grassland area south of the campground but still inside the fence line. Along the way I saw a “flagged” dying branch that had been broken (perhaps by a camper) and was hanging off a living P. edulis—beating it produced a fine Monochamus clamator and several Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei), and right at the edge of our campsite I noticed a few small blooming Sphaeralcea coccinea and collected Acmaeodera sp. mixta/immaculata, Agrilus sp., Enoclerus sp., and clytrine leaf beetles off their flowers. In the grassland area itself, I found several patches of Engelmannia peristenia in flower and collected several more of the Acmaeodera off their flowers along with occasional curculionoid weevils, meloids, and mordellids (the former for Bob Anderson, the second for Jeff Huether, and the latter for Enrique Ruzzier). As I searched the grassland, P. heroicus males continued to approach me in flight, and I captured also an Ospriocerus sp. robber fly. Other flowers were also encountered in different areas: the flowers of Thelesperma megapotamicum produced more Acmaeodera, and those of Ratibida columnifera produced the same along with a few mordellids and bees for Enrique and Mike. Mike had spent much of the past few hours in a sandstone barren on the west side of the campground, so I wandered over reasoning that he must be having good success. He was, and alerted me to a few interesting plants that might be good beetle hosts. I saw one of these right away—Melampodium leucanthum, flowers of which produced an interesting (and still unidentified) Acmaeodera earlier this spring in nearby Black Mesa, Oklahoma. Checking them produced not only the same Acmaeodera that I was collecting off the other other flowers, but also A. ligulata(?) (if it is that species, it must be a northeastern extension to its known range in southern New Mexico and Arizona). More A. ligulata(?) were collected on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis as well as Opuntia polyacantha along with Euphoria kernii and Enoclerus sp. I normally never see Acmaeodera in flowers of cholla (Cylindropuntia), but in this case I did find one A. sp. mixta/immaculata on the flower of C. imbricata. Having thoroughly searched the sandstone barren and seeing all that it had to offer, I walked over to the canyon top to enjoy the scenery and see what insects I might find in the area.
Atop Mill Canyon.
There was not much going on florally; however, I encountered a half-dead P. edulis and beat a Phaenops piniedulis from on of its dead branches. This is another species that seems far northeast of its normal range, but I have previously collected this species even further northeast at Gloss Mountain State Park in northwestern Oklahoma (publication pending)! We had seen some flowers along the roadside leading down the canyon, so I walked the upper canyon road to see if if there was anything on them. There was not, but when I turned back I encountered another P. heroicus—this one was perched on the branch of a small Quercus×undulatus. I suppose it is possible that it was attracted to the prionic acid residue on my hands and landed there unnoticed, but I’m now beginning to think all this diurnal activity is normal and has nothing to do with the prionic acid lures I handled the night before. At one point along the road, I encountered a few oak trees that must be Q. grisea (gray oak), a species I am familiar with from west Texas and from which I have collected many buprestids. Beating the living branches did produce one buprestid—Agrilaxia sp. (perhaps A. texana), but dang it I missed it! Continued beating failed to produce more but did produce a very nice series of Alaus lusciosus and a Lichenophanes sp., and nearing the top of the canyon I was again buzzed by a couple of P. heroicus males. The last insect I encountered before calling it for the afternoon was a single Moneilema armatum that I found on Opuntia phaeacantha—I had been checking Opuntia all day looking for Moneilema, and finally I found one!
A sinking sun in upper Mill Canyon.
Later in the evening, after processing the day’s catch and cooking dinner, I elected not to set up the lights due to the now quite windy conditions. This was a bit disappointing, as I was hopeful I could catch more Prionus emarginatus to go along with the single individual I had collected the night before. Instead, I decided to check the dead P. edulis in our campsite as well as the half-dead one over by the canyon top to see what might be on them at night. Only E. neomexicanus was found on the branches of the tree in our campsite, but no more Zopherus concolor (several of which I’d found on the tree the night before) were found. On the half-dead tree, however, I did find a couple of Z. concolor along with E. neomexicanus on its branches.
Sunset at Mill Rim Campground.
Venus shines brightly in the western sky.
Day 18
The next morning, Mike gave me a few beetles that he’d collected the day before—these included one A. ligulata(?) and one A. sp. mixta/immaculata that he’d collected on the flower of Xanthisma spinulosum and a couple of clytrine leaf beetles that he’d on the stem of Eriogonum tenellum. After we broke camp, I cut up a portion of the standing dead P. edulis in our campsite on which I had found Buprestis consularis and so many other beetles, taking home three bolts of the trunk (2–4” diameter) and five bolts of the main branches (1–2”) for rearing. (As I bundled up the wood, I could actually hear Monochamus larvae munching on the wood inside thetrunk.) There was much more wood left from the tree that I could’ve taken home, but there simply wasn’t enough room so I had to leave it. I hated the thought of the next campers coming to this campground, occupying this site, and finding the leftover wood… then burning it! I also hated the idea of leaving this place, since the insect collecting had been so fantastic. We were, however, nearing the final days of the trip, and if nothing else I wanted to see Copper Breaks State Park in Texas as a potential locality for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle).
It was another 6-hour driving day as we continued on our way back east towards what would prove to be the final collecting locality of the trip. Driving south through northeastern New Mexico was just as interesting (in a desolate sort of way) as the areas we’d already gone through, but as soon as we reached I-10 East and entered Texas, the landscape became a monotonous expanse of unbroken plains, with little other than seemingly endless windmill farms to provide fodder for conversation until we reached the city of Amarillo—apparently nothing more than a long strip along the highway populated by chain business in strip malls. Past Amarillo, our route (mercifully!) took us off the interstate onto equally monotonous roads until we neared our destination and began seeing “breaks” in the landscape. As we neared our the park we were greeted by juniper woodlands on a broken, undulating landscape that contrasted dramatically with the featureless scenery that led us there. It was almost as if we were at the edge of another plateau, like at Mill Canyon—albeit on a much smaller scale, giving me some optimism about our prospects for finding interesting insects.
Copper Breaks State Park HardemanCounty, Texas We arrived at the park just after the headquarters had closed and followed the road down into a riparian corridor to Kiowa Campground, where we found the perfect spot in a completely deserted campground. Getting out of the vehicle was like entering a sauna—gone was the cool, dry mountain air to which we had become accustomed over the past two weeks, replaced by thick, humid, warm air that saturated everything. At the same time, I was greeted by the sound of one of my favorite insects—Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada) males singing on trunks/branches of a grove of Sapindus drummondii near our campsite! I first encountered this Texas/Oklahoma specialty in the White River Hills of extreme southwestern Missouri back in the early 1980s, its sumptuous lime-green coloration and male song sounding like a chainsaw quickly elevating it to iconic status. Despite visiting the White River Hills frequently, I’ve only been there a few times during the right season to hear their distinctive song filling the air, so hearing and seeing them so abundantly in this location was, for me, a nice start.
Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) in riparian open woodland.
Exuvia, presumably belonging to Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada), which were the only dog-day cicadas singing in the area. The exuvia is fresh, and all adults seen look freshly emerged.
As dusk settled, I started setting up the lights hoping the warm, humid air and now moonless sky would result in some awesome insect collecting. A pesky storm system to the west, however, was drawing ever closer, and when winds started whipping I knew it was a lost cause and rushed to disassemble everything before the rain hit. It only rained a little bit, but it was enough to kill the blacklighting(!), and once the worst had passed I went over to the nearby restrooms to see if their incandescent building lights had attracted anything of interest. I picked up a few Canthon sp., elaterids, and carabids from under the lights and photographed a very large and impressive Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider) on the cement-block wall, then turned my attention to checking tree trunks and finding only a few tenebrionid and clerid beetles on them before turning in for the night.
Centruroides vittatus (striped bark scorpion—family Buthidae) preying on a cockroach nocturnally on a tree trunk in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Day 19
Our plan for today was simple—see if the insect collecting was good enough to warrant spending the day here, or if it was not make an early call to abort and head towards the Wichita Mountains in Oklahoma to complete the last day of insect collecting for the trip. It mattered not much to me in terms of driving back to St. Louis the next day—the 10-hour drive it would be from here was reasonable, so it really depended upon how the morning collecting went. I went with Mike to a breaks area just across the road from the campground where he wanted to set out bowl traps and explored the area. I was on the lookout for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle), which has not been seen in Texas since the 1930s near Wichita Falls—Dan Duran and I regarded this area to be the best possible refuge for them in the state, at least based on Google Earth photos. I was also in the lookout for any flowers that might attract beetles. In regards to the former, I became less optimistic about finding the tiger beetle here after seeing the habitat in person—it had the same gypsum-capped clay substrate where I’ve seen the tiger beetle further north in Oklahoma, but the gypsum was much more “broken” and eroded and lacked the large expanses of level ground that the beetles seem to need. In regards to the latter, the only blooming plants that I saw, at least with potential for beetles on them, was Helianthus annuus, from which I collected a few Batyle suturalis (and a few bees for Mike). I also found on the foliage of the plant an adult female Neobarrettia spinosa (red-eyed devil)—one of the most terrifyingly impressive (and appropriately named) katydids you’ll ever see! Not much else seemed to be going on in the area, and I had noticed many of the hackberries (Celtis reticulata) in the campground area were half-dead and bearing visible damage to their trunks and branches caused by longhorned beetles. I approached several of them, at first finding nothing on their trunks but eventually scaring up a couple of Chrysobothris sp. (prob. C. caddo) on thr lower trunk of one of the dying ones [2023-69b]. I continued around the outer campground area checking other dead/dying hackberries along the way and eventually happened along a few patches of Grindelia ciliata hosting small treehoppers (Vanduzea segmentata) in the upper stem leaf axils of the plants and being tended by even tinier ants. I was not aware there were other species in the genus besides V. arquata (which I’ve seen commonly on their exclusive host, Robinia pseudoacacia [black locust]), so I collected a series of the treehoppers along with a few of their protector ants.
Vanduzea segmentata (family Membracidae) adults and nymphs tended by ants on Grindelia ciliata (Spanish gold) in roadside vegetation along dry creek.
After searching a few more hackberry trees (unsuccessfully), I came upon one that was half-dead with a dead major branch coming out of its trunk. Something about it said “chop me” (I think it was the interface between living and dead wood—often a good place for woodboring beetle larvae to develop), and I began chipping away at the dead wood hoping to encounter larval galleries. Shortly enough, I did encounter a decent-sized cerambycid larva in the wood—it seemed large enough to be mature, so I put it in a vial with some pieces of wood with a thought to try to rear it to adulthood. That became less important when I encountered a pupa of presumably the same species—I put that in a vial with wood dust as well, opining that I would have a better possibility of rearing an adult from a pupa than a larva. Continued chipping away at the wood finally revealed a teneral adult cerambycid in its pupal cell—easily identifiable as Eburia haldemani (another species I have never collected before). I would eventually chop a second adult from the wood as well and then collect the remaining piece of wood for in-host rearing.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) unemerged teneral adult exposed in pupal cell in dead trunk wood of half-live Celtis reticulata.
By this time it was heating up and I needed some water, so I went back to the campsite before heading down to the Juniper Ridge Nature Trail, which I reasoned may have the best potential habitat for finding C. celeripes (if the species did, indeed, occur here). Along the way, I passed a large stump of C. reticulata that looked about the right age for developing woodboring beetle larvae, so I began chipping at the wood hoping to encounter Texania fulleri, a handsome buprestid that I’ve encountered only once before (in the trunk of a large, dead hackberry outside of San Antonio). I did not encounter that species, but I did encounter two more teneral adult E. haldemani as well as a second pupa, which I placed into individual vials for hardening (the adults) and emergence (the pupa).
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (ventral) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (dorsal) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Reaching the nature trail, I started exploring the rugged, up-and-down “breaks” terrain looking for any sign of C. celeripes. Again, the more I looked, the less I believed that this was a good locality for the species due to the highly eroded nature of the substrate with no unbroken, level expanses.
A broken badlands of gullies, mesas, and juniper “breaks.”
“Ripples” in Permian red sandstone and mudstone laid down by a vast inland sea are evidence of ancient wave action.
I was, however, finding flowers in bloom, and on them beetles. The most abundantly blooming plants were Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy)—previously seen to be a good Acmaeodera flower, and over the next couple of hours traversing the trail and exploring it’s off-trail nooks and crannies I collected a very nice series of A. obtusa along with a few Trichodes bibalteatus and mordellid beetles (the latter for Enrique) off its flowers.
Acmaeodera obtusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy) in juniper woodland.
Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerve daisy), another good Acmaeodera host, was also blooming, though much less abundantly than M. leucanthum, and I collected a few A. obtusa on its flowers as well. As I traversed the circuitous route through juniper woodland, male cicadas sang in the juniper trees, but consistently went silent on my approach before screeching noisily as they bolted and flew to another, usually very far away tree! I tried three times to catch one before finally succeeding. The species turned out to be Diceroprocta texana, a species I have collected before in the Monahans Sandhills of west Texas.
Diceroprocta texana (family Cicadidae) male singing in juniper tree in juniper woodland.
I also became fixated on collecting two of the robber flies that I was seeing—the mydas fly-mimicking Ospriocerus abdominalis, and the giant Microstylum galacticum, eventually succeeding in catching a couple in flight. Near the end of the trail I found a dead Chrysobothris sp. dead on ground, presumably it is C. caddo. There were no host trees anywhere near—perhaps it was dropped by a Cerceris fumipennis wasp that had captured and paralyzed it? At the southmost part of the trail there was a large patch of Gaillardia pulchella, which I had not seen on other parts of the trail. There weren’t many insects visiting its flowers, but I did collect another A. obtusa off of it.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard—family Crotaphytidae) on gypsum/clay breaks in juniper woodland.
By this point, I was really hot and dehydrated—any further collecting would have to wait until after I went back to the campsite and rejuvenated myself! Even that would have to wait, as I found several interesting insects right as I entered the campsite, the first being a dead Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada) on the ground at base of a large Populus deltoides (cottonwood) beside our tent. At first I thought it was M. dorsatus (prairie cicada—with which I am familiar from my boyhood collecting days outside of Kansas City), but I quickly determined its true identity after consulting online sources as yet another species I have never collected before now.
Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada—family Cicadidae) found dead at base of a cottonwood tree in juniper/mesquite woodland.
As I was putting the cicada in a vial, I noticed the distinctive black/white of a female Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer) chewing on the exposed root of the same cottonwood tree—this was also photographed and then put in a vial.
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) chewing on exposed root of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
Finally, I noticed the a flash of metallic green at the base of the trunk of a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in our campsite, immediately recognizable as indicating the presence of the über-charismatic Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer) [2023-69o]. Even though I have seen this species many times (and trapped literally hundreds of them over the years from dolomite glades across southern Missouri), they were for many years before that my “white whale,” and I still never tire of seeing them.
Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on base of trunk of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in picnic area.
By now it was apparent that there was more than enough of interest here to justify further exploration, making the decision whether to stay or to go an easy one. After resting, rehydrating, and refueling, I went back over to the adjacent group picnic area where I had seen additional gum bumelia trees this morning. I found not only another individual but also a mating pair of P. suaveolens (one of the pair got away). Movement around a nearby grove of C. reticulata caught my attention, and I realized it was a large Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle) flying around one of the standing dead trunks in the grove. I made a beeline for the grove (at least as much a beeline that these old legs can make now), and somehow managed to net it, then monitored the trunk for a while and picked off a couple more C. caddo and a Chariessa pilosa (pilose checkered beetle) that landed on it.
Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) taken in flight around a standing dead Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
When I reached the dying C. reticulata that I’d collected two C. caddo on this morning, there were many more on it as well as on a nearby tree—allowing me to collect quite a nice series, as well as C. pilosa and Neoclytus mucronatus.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) male searching on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) female ovipositing on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Promachus hinei (family Asilidae) preying on Asterocampa celtis (hackberry emperor butterfly) in campground.
On the way back to the campground, Mike called my attention to another P. scalator that was in the act of ovipositing at the base of another large cottonwood in the campground and said that he’d found two more while I was gone. We watched the female complete oviposition, then I looked for more at the bases of other cottonwoods throughout the general campground area, finding three more for a total series of seven individuals—by far the most individuals of this species that I have seen at one time!
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) female ovipositing in soil at base of trunk of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
After another break for an ice run into town and a delicious “last supper” of some of the thickest brats I’ve ever had (jalapeño and cheddar, grilled of course, with lots of mustard!), I turned on the lights and hoped for a successful final collecting act for the trip. This was only the second night (out of 19!) that I was able to run the lights for nighttime insects—every other night it was either too cold, too windy (usually both), and it was especially frustrating last night after getting stormed out just as I began to set things up. The night did not disappoint! Insects starting coming in right away, the most notable early catches being another M. dealbatus and several individuals of a tiny cicada (perhaps Pacarina puella?), a specimen of which I had tried to salvage from a spider web earlier in the day but which fell apart as I was doing so. In addition to the overwhelmingly abundant N. superbus, this gave me four species of cicadas from the park. Tiger beetles featured prominently also—in addition to several Cicindelidia punctulata (expected), I also collected several Ellipsoptera cuprascens/macra, a couple of Tetracha carolina, and one Eunota circumpicta (I was disappointed, however, in my repeated failure to collect a Eunota togata that kept appearing at the light and then eluding my bottle!). Around 11:00 I turned off the MV light (to allow the UVs to pull in the shyer species) and walked over to the picnic area where I had collected so many C. caddo off of half-dead C. reticulata. This also did not disappoint, as I collected not only a diversity of longhorned beetles such as Amniscus sexguttata and Elytrimitatrix undatus but three individuals of Eburia haldemani—now I had more than just the teneral adults that I’d chopped out of the trees earlier in the day. Walking back to the UV light, there was not only another E. haldemani at the light but also another P. scalator along with several other longhorned beetle species. I probably could have continued going for another couple of hours, but it was approaching midnight and I was exhausted. I turned in knowing that I got to experience a fantastic final insect collecting act for the trip!
Aphonopelma armada (Texas black spot tarantula—family Theraphosidae) attracted to MV/UV light in cottonwood woodland.
Day 20
The drive back to St. Louis (Day 20) was typically boring—long stretches of travel on interstate highways with no prospect of a cool native habitat to look forward to. However, it provided time to reflect on the successes and frustrations of the trip, muse over some of the humorous experiences we’d had, and contemplate where we might want to go in future excursions. At 8:00 p.m. (after 4,519 miles and 92½ hours in the vehicle), I pulled into my driveway, unloaded the vehicle, and bade adieu to Mike—for the time being!
For the past few years, I’ve been involved with the Missouri Native Plant Society (MONPS). To this point, however, my involvement has been limited to attending the monthly meetings of the St Louis Chapter—unfortunately, now only via Zoom since the beginning of the pandemic. I hope that soon we can return to in-person meetings (or, even better, a hybrid of the two, which allows person-to-person interaction without excluding participation by those who cannot attend in-person), but one activity that has resumed live are their periodic, multi-day field trips. The Spring 2022 Field Trip, held this past weekend in southwestern Missouri, was my first chance to participate in one of these events, and I looked forward to seeing the remnant prairies, limestone, dolomite, and sandstones glades, and chert woodland that were all on tap while rubbing elbows with some of the state’s best botanists and naturalists—some old friends and others new acquaintances!
Day 1 – Schuette Prairie I wasn’t able to make it to the actual Day 1, so I left St. Louis early in the morning to meet the group at the first stop of the following day—Schuette Prairie in Polk Co. Named after my friend and former Cuivre River State Park naturalist, Bruce Schuette, this recently acquired limestone/dolomite prairie with a wet swale contains many plants more typical of glades such as Silphium terebinthinaceum (prairie dock), Echinacea paradoxa (yellow coneflower), and Rudbeckia missouriensis (Missouri coneflower). Of course, on this cold, overcast, early-April morning, it was far too early to see any of these highly charismatic plant species (although some of the more astute botanists were about to point them out by their barely emergent foliage, which was easy to find in the recently-burned northern half of the parcel). Abundantly in bloom, however, was the more subdued Erythronium mesochoreum (prairie fawn lily, midland fawnlily, prairie dogtooth violet). Distinguished from the similar E. albidum (white trout lily) that occurs abundantly further east by its narrower, folded, usually unmottled leaves, all but a few of which remained stubbornly closed against the stiff, cold wind.
Precious few other blooms were seen—I recall somebody mentioning they had seen Viola sororia (common violet), and I photographed this little clump of Fragaria virginica (wild strawberry) that will eventually provide food for one of the area’s many box turtles.
Fragaria virginica (wild strawberry).
Speaking of box turtles, I found this completely naked, bleached carapace and at first hoped that it might have been from an ornate box turtle (Terrapene ornata)—limited in Missouri to western prairies and a species I have not yet seen. However, the presence of a midline ridge and its relatively more domed shape suggest it is from a three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis).
Many other carapaces were seen (though none in such good shape), and in fact bones of many types were easy to find in the burned portion of the prairie. This disarticulated skull from what appears to be a young calf (Bos taurus) was perhaps the most impressive bone find, but we did also find a dried skeleton of a smaller individual. Being the lone entomologist of the group, I just had to turn over the carcass and search for beetles and managed to capture a skin beetle (family Trogidae) and one other small unidentified beetle (but, unfortunately, no Necrobia rufipes [red-legged ham beetle]).
Disarticulated bovid skull – probably a young calf (Bos taurus).
Rocky Barrens Conservation Area Later in the morning, the group caravaned to Rocky Barrens Conservation Area, a 281-acre area in Greene Co. featuring Mississippian limestone glades and site for the federally-endangered Physaria filiformis (Missouri bladder-pod). This plant, in the mustard family, is found only in four counties in southwest Missouri. The plants were readily found, but we were too early to see them in bloom—or anything else, for that matter. For me, however, the glade alone was still interesting, and I couldn’t help but take note of the similarities—and differences—between this limestone example and the dolomite glades south of St. Louis with which I am so much more familiar. Almost immediately, I noted the presence of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia), host for Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer)—surely one of North America’s most beautiful longhorned beetles! I didn’t see any frass piles at the base of any of the trees, the presence of which would indicate larval activity, but I’m sure the beetle is here. It would be interesting to come back during the season and look for it. While I didn’t find any signs of the beetle, I couldn’t miss the bright orange-yellow gold-eye lichens (Teloschistes chrysophthalmus) colonizing it’s branches.
Teloschistes chrysophthalmus (gold-eye lichen) on branch of living Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia).
Another tree that caught my interest was Celtis tenuifolia (dwarf hackberry). I see these small, gnarly versions of the genus in glades and other xeric habitats, and they always catch my interest because of the diversity of interesting woodboring beetles associated with it. As I looked at the trees, I noticed one small tree in particular that was the perfect stage of dead—branches brittle but bark mostly still intact with a little bit of peeling on the trunk revealing woodboring beetle larval galleries underneath! There were only a few emergence holes present—strong evidence that the tree was still infested and worth bringing back to put in an emergence box to trap the emerging adult beetles. With luck, I’ll be pinning a series of Agrilus ferrisi next winter!
Corry Flatrocks Conservation Area After lunch at a nearby city park, the group caravaned to Corry Flatrocks Consevation Area in Dade Co.—site of another federally-endangered plant, Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit). The sandstone glades at this site are among the largest in the area and, thus, host a large population of the plant. By this time of day, the sun had been out for awhile and the day had warmed considerably, so we hoped to see other flowering plants as well. Among the first that we encountered while walking towards the glade proper was Ranunculus fascicularis (early buttercup), distinguished from other “large-flowered buttercups” by its canescent (grayish due to hairiness) leaves with long and narrow lobes, their tips bluntly pointed or rounded. The dry, gladey habitat also distinguishes the species from the similar R. hispidus (hairy buttercup), which flowers at the same time but prefers moister habitats.
Ranunculus fascicularis (early buttercup).
On the glade proper, we quickly encountered tiny little saxifrages in bloom, which turned out to be Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage), restricted in Missouri to this part of the state (and thus with a high CC value of 9) and distinguished from the more widespread M. virginiensis (early saxifrage) by its small, compact stature. These first individuals we encountered had especially reddish-tinged flowers.
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage).
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage).
As soon as we reached the more open part of the glade with large expanses Of exposed rock, the group dropped to their hands and knees to find the diminutive plants we were looking for.
MONPS Field Trip participants looking for Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit).
The plants were not uncommon, even abundant, in shallow, sand-filled depressions in the rock. Nevertheless, careful observation was still required to see and recognize them. Fortunately, the plants were already in bloom, their tiny styles barely visible to the naked eye within the green, not-much-bigger, petalless flowers. Photographing these plants, and especially those in bloom, proved to be a task almost beyond the capabilities of the smart phones that most in the group were using (me included).
Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit).
Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit).
The glades stretched on for quite a distance, inviting further exploration. At the margins, white flowering trees were noticed, and moving closer they proved to be Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry, common serviceberry)—among the first we have seen open this spring. (I typically see the first blooms of these trees in the final days of March, at least around my home in east-central Missouri.) an even closer looked revealed tiny insects (also among the first insects I have seen active this spring) flying around and crawling about on the flowers. These proved to be parasitic hymenopterans—family ID is still pending, but I suspect they will prove to be a species in one of the many families of “microhymenopterans” that are egg parasitoids. I am not sure whether they were visiting the flowers as pollinators (which behavior I am not aware of) or in hopes of encountering other pollinators which could potentially serve as hosts—a subject with which I will need to follow up.
Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry, common serviceberry) with numerous tiny parasitic wasps (family undetermined).
Near the back end of the glade, we encountered a few more Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage), these having more typical white flowers in perfect peak bloom.
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) with white flowers.
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) with white flowers.
Also in that part of the glade we found a few scattered individuals of Selenia aurea (golden selenia). While not quite as conservative as M. texana (CC value = 6), it has a similar range in the U.S. and in Missouri is also restricted to a handful of counties in the southwestern part of the state. The plant is known to occur in large colonies (which I have seen at nearby Corry Branch Glade)—its brilliant yellow flowers forming a spectacular display.
Selenia aurea (golden selenia).
To this point, the only insect I had seen besides the microhymenopterans was a skin beetle (family Trogidae), which I found when I kicked over some dried mammal scats. However, on the way back to the cars we finally encountered an insect large enough in size and striking enough in appearance to pique the interest of not just me but the group as a whole—a large caterpillar feeding on the foliage of Penstemon digitalis (smooth beard-tongue). It’s appearance—dark with longitudinal yellow stripes and blue spotting—immediately called to mind one of the tiger moths (formerly Arctiidae, now a subfamily in the Erebidae), specifically the genus Haploa (commonly called haploa moths). A little detective work on BugGuide comparing photos and recorded host plants narrowed the likely choice to H. confusa (confused haploa moth).
Haploa sp. prob. confusa (confused haploa moth) caterpillar feeding on foliage of Penstemon digitalis (smooth beard-tongue).
Day 2 – Lead Mines Conservation Area The final day of the MONPS Field Trip featured a morning trip to Lead Mine Conservation Area in Dallas Co. Of particular interest to the group were several parcels within the area designated as Niangua River Hills Natural Area and featuring a diversity of habitats including dolomite glades, chert woodlands, and calcareous wet meadows (fens). Most in the group visited the northern parcel to see the dolomite glades; however, a few of us—primarily from St. Louis and well-familiar with dolomite glades—opted to visit the smaller southern unit of the natural area to see the fen and riparian woodland we needs to pass through to get there. It was a much warmer morning than yesterday, though still chilly starting out, so blooms were sparse as we hiked the woodland trail searching for any hint of color. At one point, someone noticed a shrub a bit off the trail with large, reddish pink flowers—the color seeming a bit unexpected for the situation. Bushwhacking toward it, we realized it was Chaenomelesspeciosa (common flowering quince), a common, ornamental non-native plant that rarely—but obviously sometimes—escapes cultivation. While the group looked at the plant, I saw my first insect of the day—Paraulacizes irrorata (speckled sharpshooter), one of our largest and most recognizable leafhoppers, sitting head-down on the stem of a small sapling.
Paraulacizes irrorata (speckled sharpshooter).
Among the first native blooms we saw was Ranunculus hispidus (hairy buttercup). Though similarly “large-flowered” as R. fascicularis (early buttercup), it differs by its sprawling growth habit, differently shaped-leaves, and preference for moist habitats. Buttercups are a favorite flower host for jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) in the genus Acmaeodera, and one species —A. tubulus—is among our earliest-emerging beetles in the spring, so I checked each buttercup flower that I saw hoping to see these little beetles signaling the beginning of insect activity for the season. Sadly, none were seen.
Ranunculus hispidus (hairy buttercup).
At last we reached the fen—a large open area on the toe-slopes of the adjacent hillside where water draining through the underlying strata emerged to the surface to maintain a continually wet environment. The fen here is special, as two species of Cyprepedium (lady’s slipper orchids) are know to occur in the fen (and in fact, all four of the state’s Cyprepedium spp. can be found with Lead Mine Conservation Area). At this early date, the orchids would not be anywhere close to blooming; however, the group looked for evidence of their presence, walking gingerly through the fen so as to avoid inadvertently stepping upon any emergent foliage. No putative clumps were found, but already in my mind I’m thinking a mid-May trip back to the fen might be warranted! Unlike the orchids, Castilleja coccinea (Indian paintbrush) was abundantly evident throughout the fen, with an occasional plant almost ready to burst forth their scarlet blooms. Senescent flower stems of composites, presumably Rudbeckia, were also seen throughout the glade, which, combined with the abundance of Castilleja, created the promise of a stunning early-summer display across the fen.
Castilleja coccinea (Indian paintbrush).
During our time in the fen, two species of butterflies were seen flitting about the herbaceous vegetation: tiny blue Celastrina ladon (spring azure), and one of the dustywing skippers in the genus Erynnis. The former were impossible to photograph due to their persistent flitting and skittish behavior, and the latter almost were as well. Only when I locked the focus on a preset 2x zoom and fired shots in rapid succession while moving the smartphone ever closer to the subject did I manage this one imperfect but passable photograph of the last one I tried. The genus Erynnis is diverse and notoriously difficult to identify, and my expertise with skippers and butterflies pales compared to my skills with beetles, so the ID will have to remain Erynnis sp. until a more authoritative opinion is offered. [Edit 4/6/22, 11:38 am: According to my lepidopterist friend Phillip Koenig, Erynnis horatius and E. juvenalis both fly in early spring, and they cannot be reliably separated from the dorsal side. Erynnis juvenalis has one or two dots on the ventral hind wing that E. horatius lacks and only flies in the early spring, while E. horatius can be seen through the summer. If only I could turn the picture over to see what it looks like on the ventral side!]
Erynnis horatio or E. juvenalis (Horatio’s or Junenale’s duskywing) in fen habitat.
Returning through the riparian woodlands after visiting the fen, the day had warmed considerably, and numerous flowers not seen earlier were suddenly in full bloom. These included Erythronium mesochorium (prairie fawn lily midland fawnlily, prairie dogtooth violet)—the same species we saw yesterday so reluctantly in bloom at Schuette Prairie. Most were of the familiar form with unmottled leaves; however, we found one individual with notably mottled leaves that resembled those of E. albidum (white dogtooth violet) (1st photo). Nevertheless, the leaves were still narrower than that species and folded, and the plant was growing a mere 12” from another individual with no trace of mottling (2nd photo).
Claytonia virginca (spring beauty) was also blooming in abundance as we took the trail back. I am always amazed at the variability seen in the flowers of this species—from pure white to vividly pink-striped to pink at the tips. This especially vivid pink individual was about as pink as they come.
Claytonia virginca (spring beauty)—an especially vivid pink example.
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot) also was popping up regularly. We had seen isolated plants sitting the trailsides when we first part through—their flowers tightly folded in stubborn response to the chilly morning temperatures. By early afternoon, however, they were spread wide open as invitation to any of the flying insects that had surely also been awakened by the warmer temperatures of the afternoon. While most were seen as isolated individuals, a particularly idyllic clump captured our attention, almost begging “photograph me!”
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
With that, we rejoined the main group to recount the days experiences and cement new relationships before heading back towards our respective home areas.
Long Ridge Conservation Area On the way back home, I decided to check out this conservation area in Franklin Co., which I’ve never visited before. The afternoon had gotten quite warm, so I reasoned that maybe today would be the day when insects start coming out in abundance. I was right! As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum) in full bloom, and walking up to it I immediately saw an abundance of bees and small beetles all over the flowers. The latter turned out to be Orsodacne atra (a leaf beetle) and Ischnomera ruficollis (rednecked false blister beetles).
Orsodacne atra (leaf beetle) on flowers of Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum).
Orsodacne atra (leaf beetle) mating pair on flowers of Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum).
Ischnomera ruficollis (rednecked false blister beetle) mating pair on flowers of Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum).
Inside the woods along the Blue Trail, there were the usual suspects in bloom—Claytonia virginica (spring beauty), Cardamine concatenata (toothwort), Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes) and Ranunculus hispidus (hairy buttercups).
Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes).
Eventually I happened upon an Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry) in full bloom. There were more O. atra and I. ruficollis on the flowers (though not so many as on the Mexican plum), along with a Mecaphesa sp. crab spider that had caught and was feeding on a male Andrena carlini (Carlin’s mining bee)*.
Mecaphesa sp. crab spider with male Andrena carlini (Carlin’s mining bee) prey on flowers of Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry). *Bee ID by Mike Arduser.
On the back third of the trail, I found two fallen branches under a Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak) that had been pruned by longhorned beetles—presumably Anelaphus villosus. At the end of the trail I found a third such branch of the same species of oak. All three will be placed in an emergence box, and hopefully the culprits will emerge as adults.
Anelaphus villosus-pruned branches of Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak)—both collected under the same tree.
Bluff tops of Salt Lick Point Land & Water Reserve.
Today the WGNSS Botany Group ventured into Illinois for its Monday field trip to explore the limestone bluffs and hilltop prairies of Salt Lick Point Land & Water Reserve. This being the first day of autumn, goldenrods and other fall-blooming plants in the great family Asteraceae were expected to dominate the flora, which indeed was the case. Along the steep, rocky trail leading up to the prairies, Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod) and S. ulmifolia (elmleaf goldenrod) bloomed together in the dry-mesic deciduous forest. The former is a near-Missouri specialty, extending just barely into nearby portions of four adjacent states, and can be distinguished by its relatively larger flowers on columnar inflorescences with recurved involucral bracts and its relatively broad leaves with distinct teeth.
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
As we walked the trail, I heard several cicadas singing, starting with Megatibicen pronotalispronotalis (Walker’s annual cicada) near the bottom and Neotibicen robinsonianus (Robinson’s annual cicada) as we ascended, the latter eventually joined also N. lyricens (lyric cicada). Carcasses of the latter two were also seen along the trail (confirming my IDs based on their songs), and as we reached the second of three significant hilltop prairie remnants Kathy found a live male M. pronotalis in the low vegetation. It’s noisy, rattling alarm screeching as I held it attracted a crowd of gawkers within the group and a flurry of photographs before I secured the specimen in a pill bottle and recorded the location. Like most cicadas, only the males are capable of making sound, which they do by rapidly expanding and contracting hard membranes called tymbals that reside under distinctive plates found on the venter at the base of the abdomen.
Goldenrods were blooming profusely in the prairie, attracting numerous insects including Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moths)—a mimic of netwinged beetles in the genus Lycus.
Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moths) on flowers of Solidagoulmifolia (elmleaf goldenrod).
As the trail continued along the blufftops, we found a true bluff specialty—Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod). Like S. buckleyi, this species also is very nearly a Missouri endemic and is found exclusively on or very near limestone/dolomite bluffs. It’s habitat and very wide, toothed leaves on short petioles easily distinguish this species from other goldenrods.
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
In the interface between the dry-mesic deciduous forest and another hilltop prairie, we saw a nice patch of Agalinis tenuifolia (slender false foxglove), distinguished by its thin, branching stems, opposite, linear leaves with long, thin pedicels, and small flowers with upper lip arching over and enclosing the stamens.
Agalinis tenuifolia (slender false foxglove).
Agalinis tenuifolia (slender false foxglove).
As I photographed the plant, I heard others in the group on the prairie saying “We need an entomologist,” and as I approached the group I found them surrounding a Brickellia eupatorioides (false boneset) hosting two individuals of the large, black planthopper, Poblicia fulginosa. Although normally very wary, both individuals cooperated nicely for photos, and I succeeded in capturing a photo showing the bright red markings on their abdomen in obvious contrast to the otherwise dark, somber coloration of the insect. In fact, the dorsal portion of the abdomen is entirely bright red, presumably serving a “flash coloration” function similar to the brightly colored abdomen of jewel beetles or hind wings of underwing moths to confuse potential predators by its high visibility in flight and sudden disappearance when the insect lands and folds its wings over the abdomen.
Poblicia fulginosa on Brickellia eupatorioides (false boneset).
As we continued past the hilltop prairie, several individuals of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia or woolly buckthorn) were found along the dry ridgetop trail. Whenever I see S. lanuginosum, I look for signs of Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer)—arguably North America’s most beautiful longhorned beetle. No signs were seen at the first tree, but at the second the telltale frass (digested sawdust ejected by the larvae that bore through the main roots of living trees) was easily spotted at the base of the trunk. This beetle is distributed across the southeastern and south-central U.S. wherever it’s host can be found, occurring reliably as far north as the dolomite glades south of St. Louis; however, I am unaware of any records of this beetle from Illinois.
Frass at trunk base of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia or woolly buckthorn) indicating active infestation by Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer).
After a long, steep, rocky descent back down, we found many more S. drummondii perched poetically on the vertical limestone bluff face at the bottom.
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
The walk back to the parking lot gave us the opportunity to study several additional fall-blooming asters including Solidago altissimum (tall goldenrod), S. gigantea (giant goldenrod), Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke), and Smallanthia uvedalia (bearsfoot). While H. tuberosus is easily recognized by gestalt, John Oliver pointed out the main identifying characters that distinguish the species from the mutitude of other sunflowers such as leaves becoming alternate at the upper reaches of the stem, the rough, scabrous stem, and the basal “wings” on the distal portion of the leaf petioles, particularly the lower leaves.
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Smallanthia uvedalia, on the other hand, is much less common but immediately recognizable by its unique flower heads with few, well-spaced ray florets and large, maple-like leaves.
Solidago ridiga (stiff goldenrod) is now in full bloom at Victoria Glades Conservation Area in Jefferson. Co., and I took the chance to photograph it alongside its more common congener, Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod), to show the differences between the two species. Solidago ridiga has a flat-topped or shallowly rounded inflorescence (versus pyramidal for the latter), relatively larger individual flowers, and upper leaves wider at the base and often clasping the stem. It occurs throughout the central region of the continental U.S. and just began blooming in these glades (versus mid-August for S. nemoralis).
Solidago ridiga (stiff goldenrod) inflorescence.
Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod) inflorescence.
Solidago ridiga (stiff goldenrod) florets.
Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod) florets.
Solidago ridiga (stiff goldenrod) leaves.
Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod) leaves.
Black-and-yellow lichen moth (Lycomorpha pholus) on inflorescence of old field goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis).
Black-and-yellow lichen moth (Lycomorpha pholus) on inflorescence of old field goldenrod (Solidago nemoralis).
Beetles In The Bush 