2024 New Mexico Insect Collecting Trip iReport: Act 2

Welcome to the 15th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the second 11-day insect collecting trip to eastern New Mexico this year. This trip, which took place on June 17–28, was a follow-up to “Act 1” on May 14–25 with the purpose of servicing “jug traps” placed on the first trip. Joining me this time was Rich Thoma, who has accompanied me on more field trips than anyone else over the past four decades! Initially I had planned to pick up the traps that I’d placed on the first trip; however, I found the idea of sampling just the early part of the longhorned beetle season to be unsatisfying and decided shortly before the trip to service the traps but leave them in place for another sampling period and make a third trip later in the season to retrieve them. It will be a coupe of months, however, before I can make that third trip, meaning the traps will be out for much longer than normal and making desirable any modifications that I can make to extend their effectiveness. To that end, I prepared larger bait bottles (500-ml capacity versus 250-ml) and purchased enough propylene glycol to fill the jug reservoirs to the limit of their capacity (1250 ml versus the 900 ml used previously). The prototype trap that I made prior to the trip seemed to work, so it was only a matter of deploying them in the field and keeping my fingers crossed. Similar to the last trip, we ended up making 16 visits to 16 different localities—15 in New Mexico, one in Oklahoma (versus 13 localities previously), but unlike last trip we also spent time at two localities (one in Oklahoma, one in Texas) strictly for hiking and observation.

As always, this report assembles field notes generated during the trip in “semi-rough” form—i.e., lightly condensed and “polished” but not further modified based on subsequent examination of collected specimens unless expressly indicated by “[Edit…]” in square brackets. As with all “iReports” in this series, this report is illustrated exclusively with iPhone photographs. Previous iReports in this series are:
2013 Oklahoma
2013 Great Basin
2014 Great Plains
2015 Texas
2018 New Mexico/Texas
2018 Arizona
2019 Arkansas/Oklahoma
2019 Arizona/California
2021 West Texas
2021 Southwestern U.S.
2022 Oklahoma
2022 Southwestern U.S.
2023 Southwestern U.S.
2024 New Mexico: Act 1


Day 1

Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge
Alfalfa County, Oklahoma

Rich and I are repeating the 12-hour drive from St. Louis to Black Mesa State Park in the northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle that I did last month with Mike Arduser. I decided not to do the dreadful I-44 through Tulsa route, even though it is quicker, because I really just dread the boredom of the interstates and especially dislike the traffic and highways around Tulsa. Instead, we cut into southern Kansas at the last mile in Missouri and skimmed the bottom edge of that state—a very scenic route—until dropping down into Oklahoma once we’d gotten past I-35. Since we were passing by Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge and it had been probably ten or more years since we’d stopped there, we decided to take a look around the alkaline flats to see what tiger beetles we might see.

Alkaline flats at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge.

Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle) was out in abundance, allowing easy cell phone photography.

Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.

There was also the occasional individual of the dreadfully pedestrian Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), but none of the other alkaline flat specialties like Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) or Eunota togata globicollis (white-cloaked tiger beetle) were seen.

Cicindela punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.

We were fooled, however, by a tiny species of “tiger beetle” that, upon closer inspection, proved to be a shore bug (Pentacora signoreti—family Saldidae).

Pentacora signoreti (shore bug—family Saldidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.

It was dreadfully windy (as it often is in the wide open reaches of the vast Great Plains), so nothing was found on the few flowers that were found along the trail. Not wanting to delay our arrival at Black Mesa this evening too much, we cut the visit short and continued on the way.

“Beetle’s-eye-view” of the alkaline flat.

The rest of the drive along the northern edge of Oklahoma was stunningly beautiful. Not only did we get to enjoy the non-interstate landscape and the more intimate experience it provided, but we also watched a spectacular storm system as it bloomed across the skies to the north and west. Radar and forecasts calmed our fears that we would experience it more directly—it was slated to sweep across Kansas but not touch Oklahoma, letting us admire stunning vistas of golden fields of sunlit wheat against a backdrop of blackened clouds …

Storm in Kansas over wheat in Oklahoma.

…and, as sunset approached, fiery skies peaking out between them.

The setting sun peaks between the storm and the wheat.

Black Mesa State Park
Cimarron County, Oklahoma

By the time we reached Black Mesa State Park, it was well dark, but we got camp set up with enough time left to enjoy a beer and relax a bit before walking the roads to see what beetles might be out and about. I was hoping to see Amblycheila cylindriformis (Plains giant tiger beetle), but our finds were limited to darkling beetles (Eleodes suturalis and E. longicollis)…

Eleodes suturalis (red-backed darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) “headstanding” at night in juniper woodland.

…a couple of Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae)…

Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) at night in juniper woodland.

…and an interesting aggregation of Epicauta sp. prob. maculata species-group blister beetles (family Meloidae).

Epicauta sp. prob. bispinosa aggregated at night in juniper woodland.

Satisfied we’d given the area a good enough look, we settled into the fly-less tent to admire the stars while falling to sleep in the cool night air.

Unsettled skies at night portend trouble ahead.

After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit the Lincoln National Forest’s Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Both of those decisions did not work out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed, despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm, so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning. Then, when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove to the entrance anyway, where we found a parking area for a trailhead and looked around a bit. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed the recent rains, but there was almost no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs didn’t help with our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.

Day 2

Conditions turned quickly and unexpectedly on us! There was no hint of rain in the local forecast, but we awoke at 2 am to drizzle coming through the roof of the tent and quickly installed the rain fly. It rained the rest of the night—sometimes heavily, and while we were able to eat breakfast and then break camp in the morning before heavy rains returned it was still a cold, windy, drizzly experience. (I’ve now camped here seven times in the last two years, and this is the fourth time I’ve experience blustery cold and/or rainy weather here!) We had planned to collect during the morning at our favorite nearby spot—a sandstone outcropping just east of Kenton where I have collected five new state records—two cerambycids and three buprestids—in the last few years. Steady rain and cold temperatures, however, cancelled those plans, and radar and forecasts made it appear we might spend the next two or three days dealing with such unless we made significant progress towards the south. We decided to go to our next stop—Mills Rim Campground—where I had the first set of my traps to service, and then see how conditions developed before deciding whether to stay or move on.

Mills Rim Campground
Kiowa National Grassland
Harding County, New Mexico

Rains did let up as we approached Mill Rim Campground and while we were there, but only temporarily while cool (almost cold!) conditions persisted. We stopped on the road into the campground to check out a pile of recently-cut juniper wood hoping to see woodboring beetles, but all I saw was a solitary bee fly (though one I’d never noticed before—Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae).

Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae) in juniper woodland.

In the campground, I was pleased to see that all three traps were still in place, though the bait and reservoir liquid were both completely gone in them. I was also pleased to find that the traps redeployed nicely with my changes (larger 500-ml bait bottle and a larger volume—1250 ml—of diluted propylene glycol in the reservoir).

“Jug trap” hanging in ponderosa pine with two improvements: larger (500-ml) bait bottle, and larger volume of diluted propylene glycol (1250 ml instead of 900 ml).

Catch results, however, were a bit disappointing. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps had lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids, while the EtOH trap had nothing but a single E. fulgida (I suspect the trap reservoir may have been “dumped” during high winds). The white bottle trap had a few Acmaeodera spp. and about 12–15 bees, which I collected for my mellitologist friend Mike Arduser.

The “rim” of Mill Canyon.

Once all the traps had been serviced, the continuing rain and cold conditions made it an easy decision to keep moving south and forget about trying to collect or camp here!

“San Jon Hill”
Quay County, New Mexico

The forecasts showed temperatures about 10°F higher once we got as far south as San Jon, near which I had a set of traps that needed to be serviced, and about an hour further south was Oasis State Park where we would have a place to camp and possibly collect if the conditions were right. Conditions did indeed improve as we neared San Jon, with solid overcast skies beginning to brighten in the south and intermittent sun beginning to reach the ground. By the time we reached the spot where my traps were located, temps were well above 80°F and skies were partly sunny—but what wind!

We set about servicing the traps, and here I had another concerned calmed—this was the last place I had set traps last month, so the traps were the older style body made from shorter water jugs—nevertheless, the larger bait bottles fit inside the traps (barely), and the reservoir was able to handle the higher liquid amount. Results for the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps were nearly identical to Mills Rim—both filled with lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids (or at least very few—I did see at least one as I dumped the catch into the plastic bag). Again, I bagged the catch from both traps for later sorting. The EtOH trap, unfortunately, was down—the hanging rope was cut, apparently snapped due to rubbing against a branch in the wind. Just in case the culprit was hominid, however, I installed a new trap in a different nearby tree where it couldn’t be seen from the previous spot. The white bottle trap was absolutely overwhelmed with both Acmaeodera mixta and A. ligulata (and hopefully other species as well) and bees (for Mike), which I bagged for later sorting. We spent another hour or so collecting, but it was not terribly productive for me—beating Prosopis glandulosa produced lots of leaf-footed bugs and tiny beetles from the flowers, but I kept only a single Cleridae. I also beat a lot of oaks (Quercus mohriana and Q. x undulata) hoping to find more Brachys barberi (got one last time) but found nothing except a couple of elaterids. I also swept several stands of Quercus havardii but found nothing but grasshopper nymphs. All of the Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear) from which I had collected Acmaeodera spp. last time were bloomed out, but I paid attention to them anyway hoping to see cactus beetles and finally found one Moneilema armatum on the pad of one.

Moneilema armatum (black cactus longhorned beetle— family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland).

I also encountered a single plant in flower, from which I collected one Trichiotinus texanus (Texas flower scarab) and a couple of Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab). There were a few A. mixta on various flowers (primarily Thelesperma megapotamicum and Xanthisma spinulosa), but I let Rich have them and didn’t see any other species. Having satisfied ourselves that we’d gotten a good enough look, we continued south towards Oasis State Park.

Sunlit windmills stretch across the horizon under changeable skies.

Oasis State Park
Roosevelt County, New Mexico

Nice conditions and brightly sunlit windmills followed us during the 90-minute drive further south to our campground near Portales, with a spectacular bonus sunset greeting us upon our arrival.

Sunset on the Sand Dune Trail at Oasis State Park.

I quick ran over to the Sand Dune Trail to get a photo, knowing that colored sunsets of that sort are fleeting at best, and then we set about putting up camp and grilling some brats. Afterwards, we began our night walk to see what critters might be out and about, but first I wanted to go to a small, nicely-lit building near the restrooms to see what the lights may have pulled in (despite the presence of nearly full moon). At first I found only a few tenebrionids, though in nice variety and including one of the fantastically explanate tenebrionid Embaphion muricatum, and a crummy Cicindelidia punctulata chiricahuae (western subspecies of the punctured tiger beetle), but then I found several bolboceratine geotrupids—the large chunky Bradycinetulus fossatus, and several of the smaller Eucanthus sp. Then I saw a big something crawling frenetically nearby in the road, went over to look at it, and saw that it was a female Prionus arenarius—what a find!

Prionus arenarius (sandwalker prionid—family Cerambycidae) dead female on road through sand dune habitat.

There wasn’t much on the Sand Dune Trail loop, but another Embaphion muricatum on the loop and dead but perfectly intact specimens on the road through the campground of yet another Bradycinetulus fossatus and female Prionus arenarius—the two best finds of the night—made the walk worth it. Afterwards, we returned to the building lights to see if more Prionus (male or female) had arrived, but by then it was close to midnight and the cool night air had a decided “things are over” feel to it.

Arethaea mescalero (Mescalero thread-leg katydid—family Tettigoniidae) under light at night in sand dune habitat.
A species of straight-faced windscorpion (family Eremobatidae) under building light at night in sand dune habitat.

Day 3

We stayed dry all night and awoke to sunny skies early, but clouds increased as the morning progressed and the forecast called for rain starting around 10 am. Rich wanted to look around while we had the chance, but I’d seen enough and instead worked on my notes while he was out and about. Eventually we broke camp and headed out—no sooner had we done that then the rain started! We eventually learned that all this rain we were dealing with had a name—Tropical Storm Alberto, which had made landfall the day before in Mexico and was throwing moisture everywhere in its wake. At least it now made sense to us why the entire eastern half of the state was so persistently rainy no matter where we went. As we drove towards our next stop (Mescalero Sands Recreation Area), we formulated Plan B to blast all the way south and west to near Las Cruces, which seemed to be escaping the rains, and hole up there for the next two days until things cleared up. However, we arrived at the dunes under partly sunny skies and nicely warm, though quite windy, conditions.

Mescalero Sands Recreation Area
Chaves County, New Mexico

The first order of business was to service my jug traps, which I had hung in the Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) stands that dot the highway rights-of-way along the edge of the sand dune area. This has been one of my best collecting spots over the years—being the only place where I have reliably found in numbers the beautiful lime-green Agrilus sapindi in association with the soapberry. Unfortunately, all three jug traps were empty—compromised in some way by the strong winds that seem to persist in this area. One trap was “spun around” the branch on which it was hanging, another dropped when the rope came undone, and the third simply swung wildly in the wind, throwing the bait bottle and emptying the reservoir. I elected not to rehang any of the traps here, having little confidence that I would be able hang them any more securely than I had already done. It’s a shame, because I was really interested in seeing what longhorned beetles the traps would pull, not only from the soapberrys in which they were hanging but also from the surrounding Quercus havardii (shinnery oak)-dominated sandhill shrubland. Right on queue, however, I found several A. sapindi and one Neoclytus mucronatus vogti on the soapberries as I was retrieving the last trap.

Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) in sand shrubland.

Also, though not an insect, I noticed a partial mammal cranium (missing the maxillae) half-buried in the sand. I picked it up and looked at it, thinking it might be a javelina because of the far rear-situated cranial crest. Then I noticed the other half of the cranium lying teeth-upwards nearby. The two pieces fit together nearly perfectly (some minor warping notwithstanding), and the large canine tusks convinced me even more so that it represented a javelina. I bagged it and will glue it together when I return home for display in my “bone shelf”!

Assembled fragments of collared peccary (Pecari tajacu) cranium found along roadside through sand shrubland.

As I started heading back to the car, I saw—and missed!—a Chrysobothris mescalero on the shinnery oak in that spot—damn! Happily, I did manage to sweep another individual from the plants back near where we parked. Continued sweeping failed to produce any more individuals, but what I really wanted to find was Agrilus hespenheidei—also beautiful green but completely unrelated to A. sapindi and which I have collected only sparingly in the past but failed completely to find on my most recent visit. I swept the grasses along the roadside and found none (for now!), then went into the recreation area entrance to retrieve the white bottle trap—it was overwhelmed with Acmaeodera spp. and bees, which I bagged and will sort later. Very little else was seen, and by the time I returned to the car Rich was satisfied with the myriad pollinating insects he’d collected off the soapberry flowers and specimens of A. sapindi and C. mescalero that he’d swept. It was still early enough in the day after refueling and rehydrating that we decided to visit the dunes proper and see what might be out.

Distant sand dunes frame an even more distant escarpment.

I wasn’t very optimistic about collecting in the dunes, given that paucity of insects seen in the shrubland along the highway and just inside the entrance, but there was still enough time left in the day to spend time here and not enough to move on to the campground near Roswell and collect there. For much of the time, my pessimism prevailed, as I did a bit of sweeping here and there and saw (but did not collect) only the occasional mutillid (velvet ant) and tenebrionid (darkling beetle). The scenery was nice, however, and the temperatures comfortable, and at the furthest point out we had a bit of fun “working” a common blotch-sided lizard (Uta standsburiana) female into a place where we were able to photograph her.

Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard—family Phrynosomatidae) female in sand dune habitat.
Me taking a photo of a Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) female. Photo by Richard Thoma.

On the way back, I happened to notice a buprestid sitting on the dried stem of Sporobolus giganteus (giant dropseed) and realized it was the one buprestid I was hoping to collect here—Agrilus hespenheidei! This led to a renewed round of sweeping in all the neighboring plants and others along the way back, resulting in several interesting captures such as an ataxiine cerambycid, one Macrosaigon sp., two Selenodon sp., and a couple of small weevils—but no additional A. heapenheidei! I also found an interesting little Eusattus sp. tenebrionid on the sand, so it was nice leaving the place knowing that I would not be “skunked” for the first time on the trip!

Abronia fragrans (sweet sand-verbena, snowball sand-verbena—family Verbenaceae) in sand dune habitat.

We drove through rain on the drive going west towards Roswell, and shortly afterwards I saw a male Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) crossing the highway. I did a U-turn and went back to it to 1) move it off the highway so it wouldn’t get run over and 2) take photos of it. Several cars passed over it as we were backtracking, but fortunately none ran over it, and we had a clear road to turn around once again and pull over. We took a few quick photos while it was still on the road—one amazingly capturing the newly formed rainbow in the background—before a semi bearing down from the distance forced us to quickly “guide” it off the road. It really wanted to continue to the other side, so we had to be quite insistent on forcing it off the road, and after traffic cleared we coaxed it into a jar and delivered it to the other side of the highway all the way to the fenceline.

Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain crossing road in mesquite chaparral (framed by rainbow!).

Bottomless Lakes State Park
Chaves County, New Mexico

We arrived at the park with some good daylight to spare and snagged the choicest campsite in the entire campground (why the people at the two already occupied sites didn’t take it is beyond me!), explored our new home for a bit, and then set about putting everything in place.

Premier campsite at Bottomless Lakes State Park.

As soon as we finished, we noticed a rain shower in the distance and debated the direction it was moving. I thought it would pass to our east, but within minutes it was raining—and a few minutes later it was pouring! But we watched in comfort under the large metal shelter covering our table and admired the incredible rainbow that formed over the canyon wall bordering the eastern side of our campsite.

Rains appearing on the horizon.
Rainbow-framed canyon walls at the edge of our campsite.

Eventually the rain stopped and we fired up some burgers on the grill. Wildlife competed for my interest while the burgers were cooking, apparently brought out by the fresh rain and coming darkness. These included a kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.) and a red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus).

Kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.—family Heteromyidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus—family Bufonidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

The fresh rain, coolish temps, and near-full moon made setting up the lights to attract insects out of the question, but after dinner when darkness had fully settled we walked the road through the campground to look for nocturnal beetles. I was hoping to find Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle), one of which had had found up on the rock slope the last time I was here, but I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of clambering over steep, wet rocks in the dark and settled for the pavement up to the beginning of the tent campground and back. Large tenebrionid darkling beetles were expected, thus the two we saw were no surprise, but what did surprise and delight us was another male tarantula—and not the common Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) but the much less commonly encountered Chihuahuan gray (A. gabeli)! This was a delight and becomes the fourth species of tarantula I’ve found in the wild. We trailed it back and forth as it ambled along the road trying to get good photos, but it never stopped long enough to allow such. Eventually it did stop along the side of the road, where we took some “okay” photos before moving on.

Aphonopelma gabeli (Chiricahuan gray tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

As we began to walk away, I had second thoughts and decided to try for one more frontal portrait shot, but I had to move a little plant stem that was obscuring the view. I did this as carefully as I could, but the tarantula sensed something and suddenly took off like a shot. I followed as it bolted across the road, where suddenly it stopped and hunkered down right out in the open—as if it had fled the danger and was now willing to wait it out for a bit before resuming its wandering. At that point, I was able to easily take the frontal portrait photos that I desired—all that following and frustration, when all I really needed to do was scare it and wait for it to stop running.

The sight a cricket does not want to see!

By the time we returned to the campsite, I was exhausted and turned in early (rare for me!).


Day 4

It started raining again around 2 am and didn’t really let up until after noon. We took advantage of the chance to update our field notes and process specimens before going into town to pick up a few supplies. It was still raining when we returned later in the morning, but only lightly and allowing us to stop at the cenote next to the visitor center. I never took the opportunity to look at one of the cenotes last time, so this was my first actual look at one of them.

Rich admites a “cenote” (Cottonwood Lake) at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
Chlorochroa ligata (conchuela bug—family Pentatomidae) mating pair on seedpod of Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

We headed back to our campsite and continued working on our field notes and adding captions to our photographs until the rain finally stopped around 1:30 pm, and by 2:30 conditions had dried out and temps warmed enough to warrant going out and collecting.

Plathemis subornata (desert skimmer—family Libellulidae) near cenote in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

I started out by hiking the ravine from our campground down to where it drained into a cenote (Pasture Lake) near the adjacent campsite and found lots of Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug) on the ground near and within a stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along the lake margin where they were walking about, mating, and burrowing into the soil at base of the plants—especially dead remnants.

Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug—family Curculionidae) near stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along cenote shoreline.

I also scoured the barren alkaline soil along the lake margin for tiger beetles and found a couple of Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) elytra and several adult Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle). Before leaving the lake area I also snagged an Acmaeodera gibbula in flight and then wandered over to the area where I found Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush) infested with longhorned beetles (Amannus sp., which I still have not identified). I was hoping to see adults now emerged and in the plants, but none were seen. I also kept an eye out for buprestids on the Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) but never saw anything. I was starting to think buprestids were (puzzlingly) out-of-season as I wandered up into the picnic area where I found several things last time and quickly saw a beautiful Gyascutus planicosta obliterata adult sitting on the foliage of A. canescens. Over the next couple of hours I would collect a handful of these beautiful beetles. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen members of this genus in the field, and I’d forgotten whether they were skittish or sluggish—this one was the latter and let me take a nice close photo before obligingly dropping into the net. Probably it depends on temperature, as I remember collecting these in Texas in blazing hot conditions and seeing them zip off instantly and fly far into the distance upon sensing my approach. Today’s temps were much more modest (thankfully), so the adults were rather easy to collect.

Gyascutus planicosta obliterata (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

As I looked for Gyascutus on the slopes and around the picnic area, I took the opportunity to beat the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa)—especially those in flower. [Edit: the genus Prosopis was recently split up into several genera, with P. glandulosa being assigned to the new genus Neltuma. I don’t reject this new placement but will use the older, more familiar name on this blog until the new name receives greater acceptance.] Most of what I saw were leaffooted bugs, but I did pick up one more A. gibbula, one Acmaeoderopsis hulli, a few Epicauta sp., and a couple each of a darnine and a centrotine membracid. I also continued to inspect A. canescens plants for signs of infestation by Amannus but was unable to find any larvae or unemerged adults in the few living plants that I broke apart when they exhibited emergence holes. What I did find, however, was an Acmaeodera sp. partial cadaver of an adult that had failed to emerge. I was able to retrieve its elytral shield (Acmaeodera sp. have fused elytra, which they lift up during flight rather than spread apart like most other buprestids), and hopefully it will be enough to enable a species identification and a confirmed larval host plant association. By the time I looked at the last plant, it was going on 6 pm. I was hot, thirsty, and hungry, and I had a lot of specimens from previous days still to process, so I headed back to the campsite.

Rich admires another cenote (Pasture Lake) while I scale the canyon walls above.

It took a couple of hours to write up my notes and complete processing of the specimens I’d collected from the bottle trap yesterday at Mescalero Sands (I’m guessing there were at least 100, if not 200, Acmaeodera specimens as well as a few dozen bees for Mike). As darkness descended, the full moon rising in the east dampened any enthusiasm I may have had for putting up the full UV/MV (ultraviolet/mercury vapor) light setup, but what we did do was much simpler: just lay a UV light on a white sheet on the ground. Despite the increasingly intense moonlight, tiger beetles began to show up on and near the sheet. Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) was the first to arrive and turned out to be abundant.

Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

Jundlandia lemniscata repaptisata (rouged tiger beetle) also was common, but it took longer for them to come in.

Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

What I was most recited about, however, were the two individuals of Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle) that showed up.

Cicindela tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.

Rich also found a Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle running on the ground nearby. Eventually we decided to walk the road—Rich was hoping to see snakes, and I was hoping to see Amblycheila picolominii (Plains giant tiger beetle), a single individual of which I had seen during my previous visit up on the gypsum/red siltstone slope bordering the campground. Neither of us saw what we were hoping to see, or anything else for that matter, so we returned to the campground. I still had Amblycheila on my mind, however, so I decided to go back up onto the slopes where I had seen the species before to at least give myself a chance of seeing it again. I clambered semi-directly to the spot where I had seen it before, continued across the slope to the northern canyon limit, and then went downslope a bit to traverse the again in the opposite direction. Right as I started across again, I found one ambling across the rocks much as the previous one I’d seen. This charged my motivation, and though traversing the slope several more times proved fruitless, I was still a happy camper!

Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.

After returning to the campsite, I decided to explore the steep, narrow, canyon ravine behind our campsite, which I still had not yet done, and picked my way over the rocks to as far as I could go. I kind of expected/hoped to see Amblycheila, but not really—just wanted to explore the unique canyon feature. Near the furthest point I shine my headlamp on the steep clay slope at the bottom of the canyon wall and saw a Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi). It was not, however, just any ol’ Texas brown, but a female—recognizable as such by her relatively shorter legs and larger abdomen and also the fact that she was sitting right next to her burrow. I’m sure Madam will be rightly excited when she finds out we have a new pet named Bertha!

Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) near burrow on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.

You’d think this would be the perfect swan song for the evening, but as I picked my way back down the canyon floor I spotted another A. picolominii, which made me want to keep exploring even more. This I did, going down to the spot along the Bluff Trail where I’d had so much success with Gyascutus earlier in the afternoon, but the only thing all this extra walking resulted in was an even later bedtime. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have been more pleased at finding six tiger beetle species during this visit (after finding only the single Amblycheila last time and thinking I was losing my tiger beetle mojo!).

Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.

Day 5

Despite the great success we’d had collecting insects in Bottomless Lakes State Park the previous day or so, there was one thing I was glad to be leaving—the house flies! They swarmed our campsite in numbers I’d never seen before, relentlessly landing on everything including our supplies, hands, faces, etc. it then took an hour or so getting all of the thousand or so that had infiltrated our vehicle out of the vehicle as we drove towards our next stop in the southernmost tract of the Lincoln National Forest in Eddy Co. Before leaving Roswell, however, we had to stop by the “Alien Welcome Monument” at the edge of town. I was disappointed to see that my version of “Kilroy was here” graffiti from last time’s visit was gone (apparently the monument gets painted over periodically), so I added it back.

Rich (L) and me in the requisite Roswell alien selfie.
“Entomological graffiti.”

X Bar Rd
Eddy County, New Mexico

The gradual ascent from the desert floor up into the pinyon/oak/juniper zone of the mountains is among the remotest-feeling that I have ever experienced, and just shy of the National Forest boundary we found our next spot. My biggest concern was whether the area was still experiencing drought conditions, but we were happy to see that the area has actually received rain—enough in the last day or so to thoroughly wet the soil. We could see it in the way the area looked, with most of the oaks and acacias having sprouted new leaves and the surrounding slopes exhibiting a greenish “cast.” The catches from all three traps were similar to each other and to what we had seen further north—i.e., mostly moths, but without the Euphoria fulgida. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps seemed to have caught more than the EtOH trap, but the difference was not as large as further north. I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in the first two (as I bagged them for later sorting), but not many. I was hoping to see my primary target—Purpuricenus opacus, but I also knew that it may be a bit early for that species (and with the prevailing droughty conditions I may never see it). The white bottle trap, on the other hand, was loaded with Acmaeodera spp. and bees (the latter which I kept for Mike). Seeing the fresh foliage on the plants in the area, I set about beating some of them hoping things were starting to come out. Beating Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), however, produced only a few chrysomelids, as did beating the oaks (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe). There was very little in bloom, and sweeping the roadside vegetation produced nothing. Even the the few Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) from which I’d collected a fair number of Acmaeodera spp. last time were devoid of flowers. Hopefully the recent rains will continue to trigger further beetle emergence, and my traps will collect some of these over the next two months.

Chihuahuan spotted whiptail (Aspidoscelis exsanguis) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Klondike Gap Rd, Hamm Vista
Lincoln National Forest
Eddy County, New Mexico

We were optimistic about what we might see at this, my highest priority location for the jug traps, as it was from here that the west Texas specialty Purpuricenus opacus was recently reared from oak. Since the previous spot had seen rain, it seemed likely that this one had as well. Sadly, the landscape turned bone dry as we approached—dust on the plants with no sign of fresh foliage proving that it hadn’t rained for some time. My spirits were further dampened when I found the SRW trap down due to a frayed and broken rope. I rehung the trap with replacement rope (I always bring a spare trap and parts just in case) and was pleased to find both the SRW/EtOH and EtOH-only traps still hanging and—remarkably—with even more numerous trap catches than at the previous spot despite the lack of rain. Again, I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in each, but not many, and not a single scarab. The real surprise, however, came with the white bottle trap—literally hundreds of Acmaeodera, perhaps three or four times as many as were in the bottle trap at the previous spot. There were even a couple of still-living beetles walking about on top of the mass of beetles that were testing the limits of the volume of propylene glycol in the trap, suggesting that the beetles are currently active even with the dry conditions—but where are they?! There are no flowers to speak of, and beating produced nothing, yet the beetles must be flying about. All I can do is hope that conditions will improve sometime over the next two months that the traps are out and that they will be able attract whatever emerges whenever that happens.

“Jug trap” supplies with bagged catch.

Dog Canyon Campground
Guadalupe Mountains National Park
Culberson County, Texas

Last month when I came here with Mike, our only reason for coming here was that it was a campground close to my trap localities where we could spend the night after setting the traps and then move on the next morning. When we arrived, however, we were immediately captivated by the stunning beauty of the canyon, and we decided that my next trap run should include an extra day to allow some hiking and exploring. That’s exactly what I planned for this visit, with two nights of camping bracketing a full day of hiking. The approach to the park is, in itself, spectacular, starting with a steep drop off the plateau and an expansive vista of the valley below—the highway leading to the park appearing as a thin, straight line between the massively tall canyon walls on either side.

Queen Hwy approach to Dog Canyon, Guadalupe Mountains National Park.

A small sign at the park border announces that you are also entering the great state of Texas!

A Texas welcome!

To our surprise, the campground was deserted—a marked contrast from last time when we were lucky enough to snag the last available campsite as Saturday night walk-ins. I can’t say I was disappointed, as that was my only real complaint about my previous visit. We weren’t totally alone, however—Kitty quickly stopped by to see us, at once skittish yet desperately wanting affection (and probably food). Of course, insect collecting is not allowed in a national park without a permit, so this visit was strictly for observing and (hopefully) lots of photographs. Both of these began shortly after we finished dinner (including Kitty, who scored a couple of sardines) and dusk had settled over the canyon when several large male Prionus californicus flew by at our campsite.

Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Cerambycidae) at dusk in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Afterwards, we decided to walk the gravel road through the campground and back past the state line to the paved highway in hopes of seeing snakes and other critters. We saw no snakes, but we say plenty of other critters—Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae), a couple of Omorgus sp. (carcass beetles—family Trogidae), Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae), a juvenile tarantula (likely Aphonopelma sp.—family Theraphosidae), and my favorite—a couple of Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae).

Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Omorgus sp. (skin beetle—family Trogidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aphonopelma sp. (family Theraphosidae) juvenile on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Amblycheila picolominii on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

We also saw numerous tenebrionid beetles in diversity far too great to photograph as well as two species of toads.

Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Great Plains toad (Anaxyrus cognatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Smile for the camera!

The most puzzling observation of the evening was two large ants apparently locked in tug-of-war combat—each momentarily gaining momentum and then just as quickly losing it to the other in a back-and-forth seesaw battle. Perhaps our local formicid specialist James Trager can shed light on this observation. Edit: James writes:

This looks like a couple of major workers of Camponotus sp. tussling at a territorial boundary of two colonies.  These look like and might be C. americanus, but I’m frankly not sure about the ID from that location, without looking at specimens. 

Camponotus sp. (carpenter ants—family Formicidae) playing “tug-of-war” on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Day 6

Bush Mountain Trail
Guadalupe Mountains National Park
Culberson County, Texas

Today’s plan was to spend the first part of the morning relaxing with coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes, then hike up Bush Mountain to Marcus Overlook. Gaining nearly 1000 feet in just under three miles, it would be enough of a challenge for either one of us, especially considering how slow Rich and I tend to be on our hikes due to constantly stopping to look at things.

View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.

As we passed through the grasslands beyond the horse corrals, we started seeing one of my favorite tiger beetles—Cicindelidia obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle). The first two we saw were black, suggesting they were assignable to the nominate subspecies, but then we saw a green individual (that I got barely close enough for a crappy photo) which suggests subspecies C. o. santaclarae—a subspecies I’ve never seen in the field before and this spot surely on the eastern edge of its distribution (perhaps in an intergrade zone with nominate C. obsoletus). Perhaps in the morning before we leave I’ll go back and see if I can get a more acceptable photograph.

Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae (Santa Clara grassland tiger beetle) on clay trail through montane grassland.

For a while the trail was not too steep as it followed a rocky wash, and most of the herbaceous plants were just beginning to produce new foliage (late June seems to me like an awful late start to the season!). As we ascended the mountain, the habitat turned from pinyon/juniper/oak woodland to alpine grassland with large ponderosa pines dotting the steep hillsides. The ascent was quite steep in places, causing us to stop frequently; however, our reward for doing so was the chance to take our eyes off our feet and instead admire the expansive vistas sprawling before us!

View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.

About halfway up I noticed what must have been a webbed-over (and thus occupied) tarantula burrow—my second tarantula burrow after having never seen one in my emite life.

Apparently occupied tarantula burrow in montane grassland.

Along a ridge near the top we found a very colorfully marked juvenile greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi—the first horned lizard that I’ve seen in the field that was not a Texas horned lizard (P. cornutum).

Rare shade along the middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi) on limestone trail through montane grassland.

The best find of the day, however, was the least expected—several tiger beetles whose identity I did not recognize and which proved to be Cicindelidia laetipennis! This particular population was, until very recently, considered a subspecies of C. politula (limestone tiger beetle) that was endemic to the Guadeloupe Mountains (C. p. petrophila—rock loving tiger beetle) and characterized by extreme variability in coloration despite its very small geographic range. Indeed, the two individuals I managed to get close enough to photograph (thanks to my new cell phone’s zoom function!) showed part of this variability—one being bright coppery-red and the other almost greenish. Molecular analysis, however, has shown that the population is instead conspecific with C. laetipennis, which was until then considered restricted to Mexico. Whether an endemic subspecies of a more common species or a distinct phenotype of a Mexican species, it was a thrill for me to see in the field for the first time.

View from hairpin turn on middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Cicindelidia laetipennis (formerly C. politula petrophila—family Cicindelidae) on limestone trail through montane grassland. This individual is quite red.
Another individual of Cicindelidia laetipennis, this one decidedly greenish.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of limestone habitat for Cicindelidia laetipennis in montane grassland.

At Marcus Overlook, we enjoyed a bit of a food and rest while viewing the expanse of mountains further west and south in the park, thankful that such immensely wild, unspoiled places still exist. The hike back down was more about the destination than the experience—the careful footing required to navigate the at times steep grades keep our eyes mostly on our feet, and by the time we reached our campsite at mid-afternoon we were ready for some rest, food, and rehydration!

View of Guadalupe Mountains from Marcus Overlook.

After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Neither decision worked out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed (despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm), so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning, and when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove the road anyway and found a trailhead parking area just before the entrance that looked interesting enough to explore. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed recent rains, but there was no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs further lowered our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.

Hamm Vista
Lincoln National Forest
Eddy County, New Mexico

On the way back, I had an idea—stop by the traps I’d serviced the previous day on Klondike Gap Rd (not too far off the main highway) and see if they were beginning to pull anything in. I checked only the bottle trap and the SRW/EtOH traps, and both had fresh catch—Acmaeodera in the former and Euphoria in the latter. Of course, I was hoping (but did not expect) to see Purpuricenus opacus, and though I did not see it after 24 short hours I remain optimistic that it will come to the traps in the next few weeks. While we were there, I noticed a particular oak tree (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe) alongside the road. Something about it said “Beat me!”, so I went back and got the beating sheet out of the car, beat another oak on the way back to the tree without seeing anything, and in the first whack of the tree I got Chrysobothris axillaris—an oak associate that I’ve only seen in west Texas. Of course, that motivated me to starting beating other oaks, but I never saw another beetle. Certainly not a productive stop, but at least getting C. axillaris made it worth the effort.

Agave havardiana (Harvard’s century plant—family Agavaceae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Dog Canyon Campground
Guadalupe Mountains National Park
Culberson County, Texas

This being our last evening in the park, we brought out the bison steaks for a celebratory dinner, and they were quite good despite having to be cooked in a skillet over my tiny stove (no charcoal grills allowed!). Perhaps the “dirty skillet” imparted some flavor. Kitty joined the celebration, scoring four sardines for dinner instead of just two! Afterwards once darkness had settled, we walked the roads again hoping to see snakes and other crawlies, but there was far less on the roads this time compared to last night, with two notable exceptions—a Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae), and a large male Prionus californicus (California prionid—family Cerambycidae), both on the trunks of the massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana) that dot the campground. Perhaps the cooler and more blustery conditions had things hunkering down.

Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Before turning in for the night, I started to hike the short (0.6 mi) Meadow Nature Trail. I’d made it about halfway around when I decided that hiking the trail on a moonless night by myself was not such a bright idea and turned around. I really got spooked on the way back out when I saw two glowing eyes not far away but breathed a sigh of relief when their owner turned out to be a mule deer, who was equally spooked by my approach and bolted, crashing away through the darkness.


Day 7

I normally dislike mornings that we have to break camp and move on—I’d rather relax for an hour or so and enjoy a cup (or two) of French press coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes. Today was supposed to be such a day, but I negotiated with Rich to delay our departure until mid-morning to give the grassland tiger beetles (Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae) that we saw beginning yesterday’s hike a chance to become active again so I could try for better photographs. The coffee tasted good this morning, and three wild turkeys strutting nonchalantly through our campsite made my leisure hour just that much more enjoyable. Once it warmed up a bit, I went to the corrals where we’d seen them before—nothing! We decided to go ahead and break camp, then go back and check again after we were all packed up—nothing! This was puzzling, since we were there at the time we’d seen them the day before. All I can say is figuring out insects is hard—especially in the West, and if I live to be 100 I don’t think I’ll ever fully figure them out. With that, we said our goodbyes to Dog Canyon—I truly look forward to coming back!

Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo) strolling through our campsite.

It was a long drive between Eddy Co. and our first collecting spot of the day, and we stupidly made it even longer by going all the way back to Roswell to restock on groceries for the coming week. While we were there, we decided to each lunch at a restaurant instead of out of the car—further adding to our travel time (but the burritos from Burrito Express were so good!). The last leg from Roswell to near Mayhill was—like last time—the worst, with temperatures soaring up to 100°F and the landscape providing so very little of interest.

Carr Canyon Rd
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

We arrived at about 4:30 pm—still plenty of time to collect and, if we didn’t like what we saw, move on, and we were happy that the higher elevation was providing some temperature relief. We had come to this spot last time based on a prior record of a rather fine buprestid species (Buprestis prospera) from the area, but it was bone dry at the time and we moved on without even getting out of the vehicle. Conditions seemed much better this time, but still I saw no pinyon pine (the larval host) to inspect—and certainly no dead ones to chop into. We were here, however, and decided to give it a shot. I did find a few small dead Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper), but beating them produced only a single Anomoea sp. (likely an incidental association). The scrub oaks (not sure which Quercus species they represent) as well were leafing out nicely, but sweeping them produced only a smattering of Chrysomelidae (leaf beetles), Elateridae (click beetles), and Curculionidae (weevils)—no Buprestidae (jewel beetles) or Cerambycidae (longhorned beetles). A dry creekbed ran through the area, and I noticed rather lush growth of grassy vegetation in and alongside the creekbed. Recalling that I’d swept such growth along the roadside in nearby Mayhill a few years ago and got a series of Taphrocerus schaefferi, I began sweeping. This was much more productive—each sweeping pass produced one or two Taphrocerus (will need to examine closely to determine if they also represent T. schaefferi, also that is likely), and by the time I finished I had a nice little series of around eight individuals. Checking back with Rich, neither he nor I were seeing much else of interest, so we decided to continue on to the next locality near Cloudcroft.

Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.

Switchback Trailhead
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

The threatening clouds that had just started appearing as we were leaving the previous spot developed into full-blown rain showers as we continued up the mountains to Cloudcroft. Just as quickly as they had come, however, they abated and we arrived to this spot under broken clouds and cool early evening temps. Of all the locations where I had placed traps, my expectations were lowest for this one due to its combination of high elevation (nearly 9000’) and dense, coniferous forests (wine-based baits typically do not attract beetles associated with conifers). I went ahead and placed traps here, however, because 1) I already had several sets at lower elevation woodlands, 2) the presence here of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak)—a high elevation oak that could be hosting a variety of interesting beetle species, and 3) perhaps the ethanol component of the bait might still attract conifer associates. What I found was completely unexpected—all three traps contained several species of Cerambycidae, none of which I immediately recognized to species! The most abundant species appears to be a large, blonde lepturine, and there was also a smaller Stenocorus sp. as well as a few even smaller species that will require closer examination to identify. I was happy to see all three traps not only still hanging, but also with a little bit of bait still in the bottle and the propylene glycol in the reservoirs not completely dried out. This is in contrast to the traps at all the other lower-elevation localities, which exhibited bone-dry bait bottles and little to no propylene glycol remaining in the reservoir. The thought occurred to me that perhaps the reason these traps were so much more productive was because they remained attractive for the entire one-month period following their placement, while traps at other localities dried up after two or three weeks and failed to attract beetles during the latter part of the period—potentially after beetles had begun to appear in numbers. On the other hand, the very different habitats could also easily explain such a difference. As for the traps, expectedly the SRW/EtOH trap had the largest catch volume, the EtOH-only trap had the smallest (though still good numbers and variety of beetles), and the SRW-only trap volume was in between. Sadly, the white bottle trap was not only pulled out of the ground but completely missing—I can only guess that one of the many hikers that pass through the area saw it and couldn’t resist their inner vandal. The lateness of the hour precluded much further collecting, but I noticed a couple of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on flowers of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). Based on locality and their dark coloration, they should represent the subspecies A. c. pseudotsugae—unlike the bright green individuals of the nonimate subspecies found further west in California.

Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.

There were lots of other plants of various types in bloom, suggesting that a return to this spot with sunny conditions might be warranted. It also convinced me that I should replace the bottle trap here (using the one I retrieved from Mescalero Sands), given the uniqueness of this locality—I’ll just need to find a more secluded spot to place it.

Upper Karr Canyon Campground
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

During my last visit with Mike, we camped at Lower Karr Canyon Recreation Area on the west side of the mountains below Cloudcroft. It was a nice place to camp but with no table or restroom. This time, Rich and I decided to try Upper Karr Canyon, and boy were we impressed—high elevation (9350’!) with a spacious campground and, most importantly, tables! There were other people in the campground, but everyone was spaced so far apart that it still felt private—at least, until the toddler in the next campsite had a meltdown and woke the infant, who himself then had a meltdown! It was dark by then, so I decided to take a walk to look for night-active critters and hoped that the frazzled parents would manage to get things under control by the time I returned. I saw lots of tenebrionids, of course, but also far more Carabidae (ground beetles) than I typically see out west—perhaps because of the high elevation. Nothing, however, warranted placement in my bottle, so I returned to a (thankfully) quiet campground and admired the amazing starscape in the sky above in the time before the waning gibbous moon began rising in the east.

Becoming acquainted with “aliens” that we encountered this morning in Roswell.
Oenothera flava (yellow evening primrose—family Onagraceae) flowering at night in alpine coniferous forest.
Our tent illuminated beneath the night sky.

Day 8

I was tempted to do a bit of collecting before we broke camp—Cicindela purpurea (pasture tiger beetles) were flitting amongst clay exposures in the campground, and Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper) serenaded us with their snap-crackle-popping flights. We decided instead to break camp anyway and head back to Switchback Trailhead.

Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper—family Acrididae) in alpine coniferous forest.
Mexican Canyon Trestle—the last of 49 such trestles built in 1899 to transport timber from the Sacramento Mountains.
View from Mexican Canyon Overlook. White Sands National Moniment can be seen in the distance.

Switchback Trailhead
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

After a quick stop at Mexican Canyon Overlook (I actually made it to the far end of the cantilever lookout deck!), we went back to Switchback Trailhead so we could get a better look than allowed by our quick trap check stop the previous evening. This included examining the variety of flowers and sweeping the large patches of mature Gambel oaks in hopes of finding the recently described Brachys rileyi. I also wanted to reset a new bottle trap to replace the one that was stolen, except this time I hid the trap in an exposed area inside a large patch of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). I barely got the trap set when I noticed more Anthaxia on the flowers and collected a nice series of what I now believe are two species—A. (Haplanthaxia) caseyi pseudotsugae (due to its dark coloration) and A. (Melanthaxia) expansa (due to the two pronotal impressions). I went back to the car to get my long-handled net for sweeping the Gambel oak and found nearby a stand of Ratibida columnifera (Mexican hat) with more Anthaxia plus Acmaeodera variegata on the flowers. Sweeping the Gamble oak was disappointing—no Buprestidae of any kind, much less B. rileyi, but I did collect a small variety of other beetles including a very tiny adult of what must be Neoclytus irroratus. I was about to go back and see if Rich was having any luck when I spotted a large flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry). My long-handled net came in very handy, as I was able to seep the flowers high up out of normal reach. The first tree yielded what I suspect is Agrilaxia arizonae, and after sweeping the four different tree in the area I collected two more adults. I’m not aware of the occurrence of this species east of western New Mexico, so we will have to see how it compares to the very similar species A. texana. The last plant was very close to one of my bait traps (SRW-only bait)—I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peak and was happy to see a lepturine longhorn already in the trap. It was the smaller, darker species that I thought yesterday was a species of Stenocorus, and a little bit of internet sleuthing revealed it to be the very local and uncommonly collected S. copei—a very nice species that I have never collected before! Now I am even more excited about the trap results from this spot and am anxious to see what they trap in the next couple of months. (I also sleuthed the larger yellow species and believe it is Centrodera spurca [yellow Douglas-fir borer]—not an especially rare species, but one that I have never collected and this population representing one that is interestingly disjunct from the main population in the Pacific Coast states.)

Stenocorus copei (family Cerambycidae) taken in sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in Quercus gambelii (Gamble oak) along margin of alpine coniferous forest.

In the meantime, Rich learned from a passing Forest Service worker that a small protected area for the Sacramento Mountains checkerspot butterfly (Euphydryas anicia cloudcrofti), currently proposed for listing on the endangered species list, could be found just up the road. Rich had to promise that we were not interested in collecting the butterflies before the worker agreed to tell him where the caged butterfly food plots were located, so we went up to take a look at them.

Bailey Canyon Rd
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

While Rich examined the food plots (he did not see either larvae or adults), I examined the flowers alongside the road, collecting more Acmaeodera variegata and Anthaxia spp. of the flowers of Hymenoxys hoopsii (owlsclaws) and Achillea millefolium (common yarrow).

Acmaeodera variegata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenoxys hoopesii (owlsclaws) in alpine coniferous forest.

There were several additional flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry), but sweeping the flowers produced no additional Agrilaxia. Nothing else sparked our interest, so we then headed to Trestle Depot Recreation Area in nearby Cloudcroft.

Trestle Recreation Area
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

This little picnic spot caught my eye when I was here last month, looking like it might be good for a quick stop and look around. Musk thistle (Carduus nutans) in flower along the roadside may be an exotic invasive plant, but the flowers attracting a variety of butterflies were of immediate interest to Rich. I looked as well to see if there were any beetles on the flowers, but there were not and so went back to the picnic area. Immediately I spotted a freshly dead Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and walked toward it. As I approached, I saw two Buprestis lyrata adults on the trunk—one of which flew off as I spotted them and the other I caught. I checked the trunk carefully to see if there were others, and failing to find any I checked out a nearby cut Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) stump. I suspected, however, that the first one would eventually come back to the tree, and when I returned it was there. It was too high to reach, however, so I found a long dead stick, placed the loop of my net right beneath it, and used the tip of the stick to cause it to drop into the net. I would catch two more adults this way on successive returns to the tree, and while these would be my only specimens from the visit I was quite happy to have found them.

Buprestis lyrata (pink-faced jewel beetle—false Buprestidae) collected on trunk of freshly dead Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas fir) in alpine coniferous forest.

“Point of Sands”
Otero County, New Mexico

By the time we finished up at Trestle Depot, it was mid-afternoon and I wanted to show Rich “Point of Sands” where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. I’ve collected some very nice Buprestidae associated with Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s joint-fir) on previous visits (Acmaeodera recticollis and Sphaerobothris ulkei), but last month when I visited here with Mike it was bone dry with very little in flight. This time, it was not only bone dry, but also 108°F—seriously! We were here, and I didn’t want to assume that we would find nothing, but for the first 20 minutes it felt like we were walking in an oven. Somehow, I adapted and the heat stopped bothering me, and when I found a male cicada (Diceroprocta eugraphica) singing in an Atriplex canescens (four-wing saltbush) I was motivated to continue looking to see if something else might be out. This was the case, although it was limited to cicadas at the far south end of the stop—a female Hadoa townsendii on the old fruiting stalk of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca), and a female D. eugraphica on A. canescens, both of which cooperated for photos nicely.

Hadoa townsendii (family Cicadidae) on old fruit stem of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca) at edge of white sand dune.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) on Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush) at edge of white sand dune.

Rich had long ago returned to the car to cool off in the air conditioning but then became worried when I went out of view and didn’t return shortly—I’d just started heading back to the car as I saw him coming to look for me! We both decided that we’d had enough of 108°F temperatures and continued on to our next destination, the fantastically beautiful Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument!

Aguirre Springs Campground
Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

The ascent up into the Organ Mountains is among the most spectacular of any—tall dried stalks of sotol give the slopes a “brushy” appearance in front of sharp, jagged peaks.

Sotol-covered hillsides at lower elevations.

The campground itself is also gorgeous; however, beauty is one thing—the presence of insect activity is another, and the parched-looking, still-quite-warm landscape (though nothing like the oven that we encountered at the previous stop) had us wondering if it would even be worth staying one night, much less the two that we had planned. I suggested spending a little bit of time beating the local vegetation—if I found beetles we would stay, but if not (as I fully expected), we would go back to Upper Karr Canyon to enjoy another night at its high, deliciously cool elevation and then head north in the morning to search for “greener pastures.”

View from our campsite in Aguirre Springs Campground.

I got out the beating sheet and whacked the branch of a nearby hackberry, and to my surprise onto the sheet fell an Agrilus sp. (in fact, I was so surprised that I’d neglected to ready my aspirator and the damn thing got away!). More whacks of the hackberry produced nothing, so I regarded it as a fluke and turned my attention to the gray oaks (Quercus grisea). With one whack, onto the sheet dropped two Sternidius decorus—a species I know only from Arizona, and with continued beating I collected an additional individual or two at regular intervals.

Okay, so it looked like things might be happening here—despite the very dry-looking conditions, and we went about setting up camp. Dusk settled in as we finished our dinner, and I set up not only the ultraviolet lights but also the mercury vapor lamp. To make things interesting, I also set out a prionic acid lure near the lights in case there were any Prionus beetles in the area. It didn’t take long for the first male to show up—a remarkably small P. heroicus, and over the next hour several additional, more normal-sized males showed up.

Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure near ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

The lights alone also began attracting Cerambycidae as soon as full darkness arrived—many individuals of Methia mormona showed up, but so did other species such as Hypexilis sp. and what I take to be a species of Elaphidiini.

Methia mormona (family Cerambycidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Chrysina gloriosa (glorious jewel scarab—family Scarabaeidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

A female Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) also paid a visit to the lights looking for a free meal (I never saw a female tarantula ever and then see two in five days!).

Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) female at night in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Additional cerambycid individuals arrived regularly, and we would have left the lights up longer had occasional gusts and distant lightning not become blustering winds and certain rain. We got the lights taken down and put away with little time to spare, then spent the rest of the night not sleeping while high winds buffeted and heavy rain pelted the tent. (Its a good thing I got a new tent last year—my old one would not have survived!)


Day 9

La Cueva Recreation Area
Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

Given the heat we experienced yesterday, we decided to do any lower elevation collecting first thing in the morning and then come back up into the mountains for the afternoon when (hopefully) the higher elevations would provide some relief. Some good species of Buprestidae have been taken by others in the vicinity of La Cueva picnic area on the other side of the mountain range, so we headed down there to take a look.

Backlit, backside peaks!

It was already hot by mid-morning as we headed out on the Arroyo Trail. Conditions were dry, but the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa) had fresh foliage and the whitethorn acacias (Vachellia constricta) even had flowers. Hackberries (Celtis reticulata) were thick along the trail, and large oaks (Q. grisea and Q. turbinella) dotted the arroyo margins. Beating, however, produced nothing—no Buprestidae, no Cerambycidae, not even Chrysomelidae. I didn’t feel like continuing to “beat” a dead horse, especially when temperatures were skyrocketing and the mountains were beckoning, so we cut bait and headed back up the slopes.

La Cueva Recreation Area.

Pine Tree Loop
Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

The Pine Tree Loop is purported to be a 4-mile loop with 1000 ft of ascent (all within the first two miles!). My main objective was the small leafmining buprestid Brachys rileyi, which is known only from higher elevations in New Mexico and west Texas on Gambel oak (Quercus gambelii), and it was found a few years ago along this very trail. This was not my first attempt to find the species here—I stopped by two years ago guided by that record, which had been placed on the popular citizen scientist platform iNaturalist. Unfortunately, the record was inaccurately placed at a lower elevation (below the Gambel oak zone). I (incorrectly) assumed that the host must have been misidentified and that the species had been collected instead on gray oak (it is not unusual for buprestids thought to be associated with one host to eventually be found on another) and was rather frustrated to later learn that the inaccurate placement was intentional—the beetle had been photographed after it was collected, and because the true location had (amazingly!) not been recorded, the record was instead placed at a random point somewhere near the start of the hike. I must have beaten every oak within 100 feet of that (erroneous) location—obviously without success! I have since found other examples of such “malplacements” on iNaturalist, a practice which I can only describe as sloppy at best, and I implore all iNaturalist users (especially practicing entomologists) to record the most accurate placements for observations of insects photographed later as collected specimens rather than as live individuals out in the field. Obviously, this will involve more detailed note-taking; however, accuracy is, after all, a basic tenet of science! [Now climbing down from my soapbox.]

Greeting at the beginning of the Pine Tree Loop Trail.

Okay, so now knowing that the record actually came from the Gambel oak zone on the upper part of the trail, we readied ourselves to hike the trail in its entirety. The scenery grew increasingly spectacular as we ascended, during which time I beat selected trees—mostly Quercus grisea (gray oak), from which I got a lone Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on the lower slopes and a couple of Polycesta arizonica—represented in my collection until now by just a couple of specimens collected many years ago in west Texas—from a bit further up.

Lower Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Polycesta arizonica (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana), both alive and as cadavers, graced the landscape, providing both visual interest and opportunities for shade during our frequent breaks from the hot sun and the relentless ascent.

Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) cadaver along the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Ornate tree lizard (Urosaurus ornatus) on granite exposure in montane juniper/oak:pinyon woodland.
The “Old Man.” Also, an enormous Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) along Pine Tree Loop Trail! 😊

At long last, we reached the Gambel oak zone and I began beating stands near the trail in earnest. Almost immediately I add another Sternidius decorus to the series I’d gotten the previous evening, giving me hope that further beating would bring success. After only a few more minutes, a Brachys landed upside-down on my sheet! I quickly picked it up and popped it into the vial, then turned the vial until I could see the upper side. I was looking for the blue coloration with red apices to confirm its identity as B. rileyi, but instead its uniform coppery color indicated it was B. querci. Until a couple of years ago when I collected a good series of this species in the Davis Mountains of west Texas, I would have been very excited by this capture. Instead, my momentary elation turned to disappointment. Still having collected one species of Brachys gave me hope that I would still find the other, but that would not be the case—continued beating of Gambel oak was fruitless, and even my ability to do that was cut short when a popup thunderstorm moved in and drenched everything (including us!). I will admit that we welcomed the break in temperatures, as the heat and effort from the ascent had by then begun to take its toll on us, but eventually the rain moved out (creating some spectacular views as it moved across the slopes below us), and I resumed my beating.

Rain showers the northern slopes of the Organ Mountains.

For a long time nothing hit my beating sheet (except a shower of water drops, which I had to continually shake off the sheet). Just before we passed back out of the Gambel oak zone after beginning our descent, I got a sort of consolation prize—a large(-ish) sp., and as I was putting the beetle in the vial a Prionus heroicus male flew by and circled slowly back towards me to within net’s reach. Not long after, as I was beating the last of the Gambel oaks that we would see, Rich called out to me from further down on the trail saying he saw another Prionus crawling on the ground and that it had crawled under a dead log. We lifted the log (gray oak), and there she sat—the most enormous gravid female P. heroicus I’d ever seen! I wanted a photo, but she started running so I blocked her with my finger to get her to stay still. This did not work despite repeated attempts, and at one point when I became rather careless with my finger placement she gave me the most painful beetle bite I’ve ever had—bringing blood right on the most sensitive part of my fingertip! I guess giving me a good nip brought her some satisfaction, because after that she stayed put long enough for me to snap the photos I wanted. By this point, we were really feeling the combination of miles, heat, thirst, and hunger and focused on completing the rest of the descent back to the parking area, where we enjoyed a (very) late lunch and cold liquids under a table with shade!

Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) gravid female under fallen dead trunk of Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Aguirre Springs Campground
Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

When we got back to the campground, I was so drained that all I wanted to do was rest (and continue rehydrating!). But, I still had the set of jug traps (that I’d taken down from Mescalero Sands) and had decided that the juniper/oak woodland around the campground with large gray oaks could be an interesting place to set them. We’d seen very few people in the area since our arrival (apparently camping in the heat of the summer is not popular here!), but I still wanted to eliminate any chance of the traps being molested so hoofed it past the barbed-wire fence on the west side and bushwhacked across the slope to a line of large gray oaks on the other side of the ravine. The SRW-only trap was placed furthest up the slope, the SRW/EtOH trap in the ravine, and the EtOH-only trap above the ravine nearest the road. On the way back to the campsite, another P. heroicus male flew within net’s reach, which I nabbed and gave to Rich. I also watched a large, orange/black female velvet ant (family Mutillidae) crawling on the ground and soon noticed a male that must have been the same species (smaller but identical coloration) fly in, circle around, and land on the ground not far from the female. I hoped he would encounter her, but when he was within a couple of feet he suddenly took flight and disappeared—perhaps she didn’t smell right or, in fact, was not a conspecific!

Post-rain view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.

Spotty showers and gusty breezes prevented another night of lighting, but honestly we were both so exhausted from the day that we welcomed the opportunity to relax after dinner and catch up on our field notes.


Day 10

We enjoyed a much more restful night than previously thanks to cooler temperatures and awoke to spectacular views over the valley below. It was hard to think about turning around and heading back to the north and east, but both of us had committed to returning to St. Louis by late Friday—if we were going to keep that commitment we would have to make significant progress today. Our plan was to go back to Black Mesa in the extreme northwestern corner of Oklahoma (where we had been rained out at the beginning of the trip). At about a 7½-hour drive, we would have plenty of time to collect in the area before facing Friday’s 12-hour slog back to St. Louis. I did get a “goodbye gift” before we left—another Polycesta arizonica that was sitting on the tent as we broke camp!

Morning view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.

Pajarito Rest Stop
Roosevelt County, New Mexico

At the halfway point of the drive—approaching Tucumcari in east-central New Mexico, we decided to stop at an interstate rest stop for lunch and were pleased to find sheltered picnic tables to enjoy our meal. Afterwards, while exploring the grounds a bit (never pass up an opportunity to look for bugs!), I spotted a lidless white cooler sitting next to the fence along the back edge of the area. I don’t know what I expected to see inside of it, but when I looked I saw standing water in the bottom… and beetles! It was nothing more than a giant bowl trap! We brought the cooler back to the car, poured the contents through a sieve and rinsed before dumping out, and picked out a cerambycid (Strangalia sexnotata), two scarabs (Euphoria kernii), and a few other miscellaneous beetles (but, unfortunately, no Acmaeodera).

“Cooler trap” at Pajarito Rest Area.

Kenton
Cimarron County, New Mexico

As we continued northward through northeastern New Mexico, we noticed what looked like rainclouds in the distance, and checking the radar forecast showed spot thundershowers moving through the area around Black Mesa. All we could say was “Here we go again!” and spent the remaining few hours of the drive watching the clouds and constantly checking the radar updates trying to predict if rain would actually occur at our planned collecting spot—a sandstone outcropping with juniper/oak/pinyon woodland just east of the tiny town of Kenton. Rain seemed certain as we passed through Clayton—about 30 minutes south and west of Kenton—when we got drenched while making a quick pit stop, but as we neared our destination the clouds started breaking up a bit, even allowing occasional peaks of sunlight. We arrived at the spot at either 5 pm or 6 pm, depending on whether we followed Central or Mountain Time (the time zone boundary passes right through the area), and though it had rained, it was neither cool nor overly wet. I had discovered Prionus heroicus in this area a number of years ago (with the help of prionic acid lures), and given our repeated sightings of this species the previous two days, I set out lures to see if they were active in this area. Almost immediately the males started flying in, easily recognized from afar by their enormous size, peculiar waving of their hind legs while flying, and diesel engine-like sound of their flight!

Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) males attracted to prionic acid during late afternoon in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

I collected a few to document the occurrence, but what I was most interested in doing here was beating the oaks. There are two species here, Quercus × undulata (wavylweaf oak) being the more abundant and Q. mohriana (Mohr oak) represented by sporadic individuals. I had beaten a nice series of Brachys barberi (and one B. aeruginosus) from the former last month and collected a few cerambycid-pruned branches from the latter, but beating on this day produced little. I did, however, note several additional cerambycid-pruned branches on the very same Q. mohriana from which I had collected them last month, which I bundled for rearing, and beating the living branches produced a single Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata.

Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Perhaps an incidental association.)

Also from Q. mohriana, I beat a large, impress caterpillar that I soon decided must be one of the Hemileuca spp. (sheep and buck moths—family Saturniidae). The only species known from the area is H. oliviae (range sheep moth), but it clearly did not look match images of that species, so Rich decided to see if he could rear the caterpillar to adulthood and collected foliage from the tree to provide additional food until it pupated. [Edit: The host, location, and gestalt (especially the reddish dorsal coloration between the segments) suggest it is Hemileuca grotei diana (Grote’s buck moth). Apparently this species has not yet recorded from Oklahoma, but the location in far northwest corner is very close to several Colorado records, and the species also occurs in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Rich also wrote the following update on his attempts to rear the caterpillar to adulthood:

The caterpillar made it home safely. I put the caterpillar in a large jar with cactus soil, and some of the oak leaves I collected off the bush where it was collected. For the next three days, it fed on the leaves at night and left lots of frass behind. During the day, it remained motionless on the dirt. Since last night, the caterpillar has not moved which could mean that it has died or is parasitized. It may also be taking its time to form a pupa. This is what I am hoping for.]

Hemileuca grotei diana (Grote’s buck moth—family Saturniidae) caterpillar beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

I continued beating the oaks but found only a few weevils on Q. × undulata before turning back to look around the flats around the parking area. Along the way, I noted a lone Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) along the roadside, from which I beat a single Agrilus. Its chunky size and coppery color had me fooled until I realized it was a stray A. sapindi—normally associated with Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry). I’m not aware of the occurrence of soapberry at this particular spot, but it is common at nearby Black Mesa State Park and likely also occurs in other closer areas.

Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) beaten from Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Must be an incidental association.)

Checking the flats around the parking area, I found not only Moneilema armatum on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla), but also Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger).

Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

After taking photos of the latter, I noticed a large beetle crawling on the ground and realized it was a female P. heroicus—only the second female of this species I’ve seen (the first being only one day earlier at Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument). This brings me to an idea I have about attraction to pheromones in Prionus beetles—released by females (none of which fly to my knowledge) to attract males (which are powerful fliers). The use of prionic acid pheromone lures has greatly facilitated the collection of male Prionus beetles (all species of Prionus appear to be attracted to prionic acid); however, I have also collected females of several species (P. arenarius, P. fissicornis, P. integer, and—now—P. heroicus) while using prionic acid lures to collect male Prionus. In each case, I found the females walking on the ground in the general direction of the lures, suggesting to me that they may be “cheaters”—i.e., rather than producing and releasing their own pheromone, they detect pheromone being released by another female and walk towards the source in hopes of “stealing” a male. If this is true, the energetic cost of producing/releasing pheromone must be sufficiently high to allow cheaters to persist in the population. In today’s case as well, the female was walking in the general direction of the lure from a distance of about 60 meters. It would be interesting to test this hypothesis experimentally (but it will be up to someone else to do this). On the way back to the car, I collected one more M. armatum—this one on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus).

Moneilema armatum (family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

Rich came back to the car about the same time, so I checked in with him to see how he had done. He gave me an Acmaeodera (prob. A. mixta/immaculata) that he’d collected on the flower of Pediomelum tenuiflorum (slimflower scurfpea) and wanted to walk back down the gravel road to check for other flowers. I accompanied him, beating oaks along the way without success (but seeing a very impressive Climaciella brunnea—brown wasp mantidfly) until, finally, a B. barberi from Q. mohriana near the bottom of the hill landed on my sheet.

Climaciella brunnea (brown wasp mantidfly—family Mantispidae) beaten from Quercus × undulata (wavyleaf oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

By then it was getting close to dusk, but I hadn’t yet checked the dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) from which I’d beaten two new state records (Oeme rigida deserta and Haplidus testaceus) on my visit here last month. I was keen to see what else might be on the tree a month later and, amazingly, got two more new state records this time as well: Buprestis laeviventris beaten from a branch, and a dead Monochamus clamator clamator (spotted pine sawyer) female stuck on the trunk.

Buprestis laeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. This represents yet another new state record for the area.
Monochamus clamator clamator (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. Two new state records on one tree (again!)?

These would be the last insects that I would collect on the trip, and what a final duo they were! On the way back to the car, I picked up a couple of cerambycid-pruned branches of Q. × undulata that I had set aside earlier for rearing. It will be interesting to see if it is the same species that is pruning the two oak species (Q. × undulata and Q. mohriana). With dusk approaching and us still needing to get to the state park and setup camp, we decided that three hours of collecting at the final spot was a good way to close out 10 straight days of collecting!

Black Mesa State Park
Cimarron County, New Mexico

Our “favorite” campsite in the park was unavailable—in fact, the entire West Canyon campground was closed due to installation of a new dump station for the nearby RV campground. As an alternative, we secured a spot at the nearby Lake Etling Campground. I’ve never stayed there because there are no toilets, but the sites are much larger and come with shelters over the picnic tables—something that would have come in handy during my several previous visits with rain. Site , in particular—located at the far end of the campground, nestled up against a low cliff, and well out of sight from the rest of the campground, may well now be my new favorite campsite at the park.

Charcoal “fireworks”!

After enjoying a celebratory rib-eye steak dinner, I walked the roads hoping to see night-active beetles. Unfortunately, the same rains that killed the possibility of setting up the lights also apparently kept the beetles holed up, and I saw nothing. It occurred to me then that this was my tenth visit to the park in the past three years, and it has rained on six of those visits! So much for western Oklahoma being a “dry” place!

A final campfire!

Day 11

The drive from Black Mesa to St. Louis was predictably boring and unfulfilling. Normally I would eschew interstates and divided highways in favor of backroads, but at 12 hours even on the quickest route I had to bite the bullet. At least we did not have to get out of the car while the hottest temperatures of the trip (111°F!) settled over us, and the memories of the trip will feed my souls for a long time to come.

The highest temperature of the trip—111°F! Thankfully, this occurred during the drive home!

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2024

Botanizing at St. Joe State Park

Dry post oak woodland.

This week’s destination for the WGNSS Botany Group outing was St. Joe State Park, where the western portion of the Bicyle/Hiking Trail runs along a prime example of dry post oak woodland. Such woodlands were common in Missouri during pre-settlement times but have been largely eliminated from the present-day landscape due to incompatible land management practices, including fire suppression. Post oak woodlands depend upon periodic fires to maintain an open canopy, allowing a rich ground layer of native grasses and forbs to flourish in the abundant sunlight. In pre-settlement times, this happened naturally as a result of lightning strikes; however, remnant post oak woodlands exist today largely as a result of active landscape management including the use of prescribed burns and selective thinning. Evidence of these practices was easy to find in this remarkably restored example of an original post oak woodland.

Prescribed burns help to maintain an open canopy and a rich herbaceous ground layer.
Selective girdling optimizes species composition while minimizing ground layer disturbance.

At the end of January, there is still a lot of winter left to endure—far too early to be thinking about the still-distant-spring even at our “middlin’ latitudes.” Nevertheless, even at this early date, the buds of Ulmus rubra (slippery elm) are noticeably swollen. (I’ve always felt “slippery” was a misnomer for this species. I know it refers to the slippery texture of the inner bark when chewed, but the leaves are rough, and the twigs are rough, and the buds are rough as well—and who even does that [chews the inner bark] anymore?!) It is this roughness to the leaves that most easily distinguishes U. rubra from the similar U. americana (American elm), but during winter it’s fuzzy, rusty-red buds provide the clue instead. If one has a pocketknife, a slice into the bark to look for alternating light/dark layers (the absence of which signifies U. rubra) can also be used.

Ulmus rubra (slippery elm).

The rich ground layer of a post oak woodland dazzles during spring and summer, the temporal sequence of floral displays belying the diversity that produces it. This diversity does not disappear during the winter, nor does the evidence of it—it merely expresses itself in different form. To recognize the plants that are there, one must train their eyes to see these different versions of them. Bright yellow flowers are replaced by dry seed boxes… fleshy green leaves with purple ball inflorescences are replaced by naked stems with dehiscent pods… delicate white petals are replaced by prickly pods. The ability to recognize the elements of a landscape at any moment—not just at their most beautiful—makes it easier to enjoy the landscape itself at any moment. Following are some of the plants we saw, no doubt distinctive when in bloom, but also recognizable when not if one knows what to look for.

Dasistoma macrophylla (mullein foxglove).
Anemone virginiana (tall thimbleweed).
Manfreda virginica (formerly Aloe virginica—false aloe, rattlesnake master, Virginia agave).
Dioscorea villosa (wolf yam).
Asclepias purpurascens (purple milkweed).

During the previous week’s outing at Hawn State Park, the group spent a fair amount of time distinguishing Missouri’s five species of Betulaceae—all of which can be found growing together along the banks of Pickle Creek. One is not likely to see three of them along the margins of a dry post oak woodland, but the two remaining—Corylus americana (American hazelnut) and Ostrya virginiana (American hop hornbeam), both much more tolerant of drier situations—were seen in abundance. These two species also happen to be the two that are most often confused with each other—especially during winter, giving the group another opportunity to study their subtle differences. Both develop male catkins during the winter, but those of C. americana tend to be larger, lighter in color, and frequently occurring singly along the branch. The winter twigs are a bit more distinctive—with tiny hairs and rounded buds in the former, versus hairless with pointed buds in the latter. Of course, of the two, only O. virginiana produces the distinctive hops-like fruits that often persist into the winter, so their presence immediately identifies any plant possessing them.

Corylus americana (American hazelnut) (L) versus Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – male catkins.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) (L) versus Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – winter buds.
Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – last season’s fruit.

Direct comparisons of winter twigs proves to be a useful identification technique for other similar species pairs—even those in the same genus. Acer saccharum (sugar maple) and A. rubrum (red maple) often grow in close proximity and are similar enough to be frequently confused. When twigs of the two are placed next to each other, however, the differences are apparent. Color alone—A. rubrum usually exhibiting a reddish tinge to the twigs and buds—is not always diagnostic, and both species have what could be called pointed buds. Touch the tips, however—the buds of A. saccharum are sharp enough to prick the finger, while those of A. rubrum are blunted just enough to avoid feeling the prick.

Acer saccharinum (sugar maple) (L) versus Acer rubrum (red maple) (R) – winter buds.

Along the length of the trail, I noted an abundance of dry, persistent flower stalks of Hydrangea arborescens (American hydrangea) colonizing the bordering rock ledges. Normally found in moist (and frequently inaccessible) situations, its presence in a dry post oak woodland suggests drainage through the layers of dolomite underneath the woodland reaches the surface in these exposed toe-slopes, keeping them persistently moist. While the promised floral display in June is reason enough to return, my interest in woodboring beetles provides additional motivation, as its flowers are a favorite of a diverse group of woodboring beetles call flower longhorns (subfamily Lepturinae)—some of which having been associated only with this plant. Time to mark the calendar!

Members of the WGNSS Botany Group (L–R): Keith Woodyard, Eileen & Tom Buescher, Alan Brandt (hidden), John Oliver, Kathy Thiele (hidden), Burt Noll, Michael Laschober, Pete Kozich.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

2021 Texas/New Mexico/Arizona Insect Collecting Trip iReport

This is the 10th “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering 13 days of collecting in western Texas, southern New Mexico, and southeastern Arizona July 19–31, 2021. This trip was a “two-parter”—the first week with frequent field mate Jeff Huether (our seventh joint collecting trip) as we made our way from western Texas through southern New Mexico and into southeastern Arizona on our way to a memorial celebration for Jim Wappes at the home of Steve Lingafelter and Norm Woodley (for which I took the day off from collecting), and the second week visiting various locations in the “Sky Islands” of southeastern Arizona with several other entomologists.

As with all previous “iReports” in this series, this report is illustrated exclusively with iPhone photographs (thus the term “iReport”). Previous iReports in this series include:
2013 Oklahoma
2013 Great Basin
2014 Great Plains
2015 Texas
2018 New Mexico/Texas
2018 Arizona
2019 Arkansas/Oklahoma
2019 Arizona/California
2021 West Texas


Day 1 – Monahans State Park, Texas
This was my first stop on the previous trip back in late April and early May, and what a difference a couple of months with good rains makes—dry as a bone then but bursting with a great variety of wildflowers now. Like last time we stopped at the Shin Oak Picnic Area first, and almost immediately Jeff got an Acmaeodera gibbula on living Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite). I started beating the trees and got a good series of that species along with a good series of an Actenodes sp. (prob. A. mendax). There were also some mesquites that had been killed (apparently by herbicide), and when I started beating them I got several more A. gibbula and one Paratyndaris sp. It went from blazing hot when we arrived to raining about an hour later, and for a while after the rain moved through it stayed cloudy and quite comfortable. Eventually we decided to look for another spot with more mesquite to beat.

Monahans Sandhills State Park with rain moving in!
Poecilanthrax effrenus (family Bombyliidae) on flower of Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread).
Acanthochalcis nigricans (family Chalicididae) female looking to oviposit on dead Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite).
Palafoxia sphacelata (othake).
Palafoxia sphacelata (othake).
Asclepias arenaria (sand milkweed).
Asclepias arenaria (sand milkweed).
Penstemon ambiguus (gilia beardtongue).

We found an area closer to the entrance (Equestrian Area) with lots of mesquite and also sunflowers, which Jeff was interested in looking at to search for meloids (blister beetles). Before I even reached the first mesquite I saw an Acmaeodera sp. (maybe A. obtusa) sitting on the flower of Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) and later found another plus one A. immaculata. Off the mesquite I beat just one Actenodes sp. prob. mendax and a few treehoppers, while another and a Chrysobothris sp. got away (it was by now quite hot and they bolted!). I continued beating mesquite but just wasn’t seeing anything, so we decided to take a look at the area around the main dunes and another picnic area.

Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower).

At the Pump Jack Picnic Area, we saw a lot of Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in bloom and decided to check the flowers for Acmaeodera. We each got a nice series of what appear to be A. obtusa and A. immaculata. Also, I finally found a single Acmaeodera immaculata on the flower of Hymenoppapus flavescens (collegeflower), which I’d been looking at all day thinking it must be a good Acmaeodera flower host. On the way back to the vehicle, I scared up a cicada that had been singing on a nearby plant—I’d been hearing them all day but assumed they were grasshoppers or katydids. I listened for another and saw it perched on the stem of Mentzelia nuda (bractless blazingstar), and netted it—a fine male, smallish and with a very white venter. I wanted to find one more—catching another A. gibbula in flight, and saw one singing in a mesquite tree. This time I took some photos of it (working carefully not to alarm it) and then hand-caught it (later identified as Diceroprocta texana). A nice end to the visit.

Male Diceroprocta texana singing on Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite).
Mentzelia nuda (bractless blazingstar).
Mentzelia nuda (bractless blazingstar).

After dinner, we returned to Shin Oak Picnic Area for night collecting. I setup my new Mercury-vapor (MV) station (first time using the gas-powered generator and tripod—slick setup) and my two ultraviolet (UV) stations. Jeff set out three prionic acid lures. Large numbers of Polyphylla monahanensis (which came mostly to the UV stations) and P. pottsorum (which came mostly to the MV station), but otherwise few beetles showed up and not a single longhorn. Other insects were also limited mostly to large numbers of ground-nesting bees and several big grasshoppers. No Prionus came to the lures—not surprising since we are in the tail end of the season for P. arenarius (April to July) and too early for P. spinipennis (mostly August). I’ve only gotten a few P. monahanensis and P. pottsorum before now, so it’s nice to have good series of each, but I would have preferred to collect some longhorns.

Blacklights humming as dusk settles over the dunes.
Polyphylla pottsorum at the MV sheet.

Day 2 – Toyahvale, Texas
We’re on our way to the Davis Mountains, and along the way I decided to stop at the “Agrilus cochisei” spot we found (on a tip from Jason) back during the April trip. I swept the roadsides—not just the host plant (Artemisia occidentalis, western ragweed) but a variety of other plants in bloom but did not find any A. cochisei. I did collect a few meloids (which were on Solanum eleagnifolium) and Zygogramma leaf beetles but nothing else.

Proboscidea parviflora (family Martyniaceae)—doubleclaw or red devil’s-claw.

A bit further down the road from the last stop, we noticed this memorial to the many horses that have been transported along this highway on their way to slaughter.

Davis Mountains, Ft. Davis, Texas
Another roadside stop for one of the places where I collected during last April’s trip. I was hoping we would not be too late for Acmaeodera—there were plenty of plants in bloom but we did not see any. Senegalia greggii (formerly Acacia greggii, commonly called cat-claw acacia) and Vachellia constricta (formerly Acacia constricta, commonly called whitethorn acacia) were both in bloom, and off the former I got the obligatory Stenaspis solitaria male/female pair as well as a Lampetis drummondii, but I collected nothing off the latter. Tried for a couple of cicadas and missed ‘em both!

Stenaspis solitaria male on flowering Senegalia greggii (cat-claw acacia).
Lampetis drummundii captured on flowering Senegalia greggii (cat-claw acacia).
Eurema nicippe (sleepy oranges) on yellow asteraceous flower.

Davis Mountains, Boy Scout Rd, Texas
This looked like a good spot, with water in the creek and lots of butterflies flying around. Beating, however, yielded nothing but lots of lep larvae. It seems we are in the mid-summer lull—too late for spring things, but too early for late summer-fall species. I think we’ll try some higher elevations and see what it is like.

Argemone aenea (golden prickly poppy).
Argemone aenea (golden prickly poppy).
Argemone albiflora (white prickly poppy).
Argemone albiflora (white prickly poppy).

We were headed back towards the highway when I spotted a stand of Thelosperma megapotamicum along the road. We got out so I could take a look at them and immediately encountered this Texas horned lizard who seems to be saying “WTF?!” I swept through the Thelosperma and picked up two Batyle sp., one Enocleris sp., and a couple of species of meloids. There were lots of other plants in bloom, too, including several that are typically attractive to beetles such as Sphaeralcea and Ratibida. However, nothing was seen on them, further reinforcing our desire to go to higher elevations to see if that would improve the collecting.

Phrynosoma cornutum (Texas horned lizard).

Davis Mountains, Madera Canyon, Texas
We wanted to get up to higher elevation to see if that might improve the insect collecting. It is strange—the Davis Mountains are greener than I’ve ever seen them, yet there are almost no insects, no flowers. Jeff and I were wondering if the deep freeze Texas experienced this past winter might have knocked out insect populations. We beat along the way but just we’re not seeing anything on the beating sheets. We hiked our way up to the overlook, and up there I ran into a few species of tenebrionids running along the trail and doing their famous “headstands” when we disturbed them. On the way back down I saw a few large, red and black clytrine chrysomelids on what I take to be a fall-flowering helianthoid aster (old flowering stalks were 5–6 feet tall), so I picked up a few for Shawn (my scope of insects that I’ll collect expands greatly when I’m not finding anything in the groups that I study). I think we’ve had it with the Davis Mountains, and tomorrow we’ll travel further west and try our luck around Fabens.

Lower part of the Madera Canyon Trail.
The trail at upper elevations.
A small Eleodes sp. doing the headstand.
A larger species (Eleodes wenzeli sulcicollis) doing the headstand.
Same individual as in the previous photo.

Day 3 – Van Horn, Texas
Just a quick stop along the highway when we saw a variety of plants in bloom. Things are different at these lowers elevations compared to the Davis Mountains. Sweeping yielded a number of Agrilus sp. (vittate) and two Agaeocera gentilis—I suspect they were on the Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow), along with an Acmaeodera sp. and assorted other beetles. On a much taller globemallow I found two Tylosis jiminezi (male/female) perched on the foliage—a first for me! I did a little more sweeping further to the south but came up with only a few melyrids and a blister beetle (Epicauta segmenta). Nice stop!

Tylosis jiminezi on Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrowleaf globemallow).
Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrowleaf globemallow).
Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrowleaf globemallow).

San Felipe Park, El Paso Co., Texas
When we first arrived, we were not at all optimistic—it looked like it hadn’t rained in years. However, the Larrea tridentata (creosote) and Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) were both in full bloom, so we began looking about. Almost immediately I saw Stenaspis solitaria in the mesquites, which in itself is not exciting, but two of the first three I saw were the form that has the distinctly reddish-brown pronotum, which I’ve never seen before. I saw a couple more and tried to get photographs, but they were too skittish. As I searched for them, I caught one Aethecerinus latecinctus (a second got away), one Plionoma sp. (not sure if it’s suturalis or rubens), one Chrysobothris sp. (prob. C. octocola) and one Acmaeodera gibbula. The real fun began, though, when I walked by a creosote and saw a Gyascutus planicosta (should be subsp. obliteratus in this area) take flight. I tracked it to see where it landed, caught it, and then put most of my effort into getting a decent series of individuals. I succeeded, but it took more than four hours with the heat maxing out at 96°F! In addition to the Gyascutus, Jeff was quite excited to see the bright green and orange blister beetle Eupompha fissiceps abundant on the creosote in mating pairs and feeding on the petals of the flowers. I finished off the blister beetle fun by finding Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid) crawling in the sand, which, despite the common name, was decidedly bluish.

The author looks out over the vast creosote/mesquite scrub.
Eupompha fissiceps on Larrea tridentata (creosote).
Eupompha fissiceps feeds on Larrea tridentata (creosote) as “Mr. Meloid” (Jeff Huether) looks on.

After going into town to restock on supplies and catch some dinner, we returned to the park to do some lighting and night collecting. The moon is almost full, which generally puts the kibosh on longhorns coming to the lights, but we decided to try anyway because of the high amount of activity during the day in a rarely-visited location. I set up the Mercury-vapor (MV) light only and skipped going through the trouble to put up the ultraviolet lights also. I also wanted to beat the mesquite since I didn’t have much chance during the day, spending most of my time hunting Gyascutus with an aerial net, and once I got the MV setup going I started whacking the mesquite. Almost immediately, I got three Aethecerinus latecinctus, which came off the first two plants I beat. This motivated me further and caused me to commit to beating for the next hour or so—never even getting a single beetle of any kind! By then the lights had been going for awhile, and I was pleased to see several Derobrachus hovorei (palo verde root borer) crawling on the sand near the light. Even though it is a common species, I’ve not seen many myself, so I was happy to have a nice series to take up beaucoup room in one of my prionid drawers. Otherwise, very few beetles came to the lights, or most other insects as well—the sheet being covered primarily by dozens of white-lined Sphinx moths and lots of wasp/bee-type things. We did enjoy the evening, however, as we sat in our chairs and drank a cold brew between checkings of the light.

Mercury-vapor light setup at dusk.
Mercury-vapor light just turned on at sunset.
Mercury-vapor light going strong as darkened settles.
Derobrachus hovorei (palo verde root borer).

Day 4 – Chaparral, New Mexico
We had planned to take NM-213 north to White Sands, but public access was blocked at Ft. Bliss. While backtracking, I spotted Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow) growing along the roadside and stopped to check it out. There was nothing on any of the plants, despite good growth and appearing to be coming into flowering. I did a little beating on Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) as well—again very little going on, just a few treehoppers, tiny blister beetles, and one weevil. Larrea tridentata (creosote) was in full bloom, just like at Fabens, and here too there were many Eupompha fissiceps on the flowers and in mating pairs. I couldn’t resist collecting just a few and even made a short video of a mating pair engaged in some interesting behavior. I did see one Gyascutus planicosta as it flew by, but I could not track it to see where it landed. Otherwise all I picked up was another Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid)—along with a photo, and a male cicada (maybe Diceroprocta texana) singing on a dry yucca stalk (hand-collected!).

Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid).
Eupompha fissiceps mating pair engaged in some interesting behavior.

Point of Sands, New Mexico
Jeff wanted to stop here to look for Pleurospasta mirabilis, a really cool-looking blister beetle that looks unlike anything else. He found just one by disturbing the host plant (small purple blooms), and I found none—seems we are right at the tail end of their activity period. I looked around for other things also, but there was not much out. I did catch a couple more cicadas (males singing), and near an Ephedra sp. bush I found a mostly-intact carcass of Sphaerobothris ulkei. The most interesting find, however, was a couple of apparently lost pitfall traps—the barriers had fallen over, and the cops were filled with sand and the carcasses of numerous tenebrionids that had fallen into the traps and never been retrieved. I pulled up the cups and filled in the holes to prevent further loss, finding a few live tenebrionids and trogids and one Pasimachus sp. ground beetle that had not yet succumbed in the process.

Point of Sands, New Mexico.
“Lost” pitfall trap.

Hatch, New Mexico
While passing through the town of Hatch, I couldn’t resist taking the opportunity to stop and photograph some interesting town characters.

An interesting take on the Sinclair dinosaur.
Chili Pepper Man!
Cast of characters.

Deming, New Mexico
Another roadside stop in an area that was green with flowers and also had Yucca (to look for Tragidion) and Ephedra (to look for Sphaerobothris). Neither of those insects were found, and no buprestids or cerambycids were seen on or swept from any of the many composite flowers about including Thelosperma megapotamicum. I did find a couple of the meloid Lytta biguttata, one on flowers of Cirsium sp. and another on an unidentified yellow composite flower, and Jeff found a huge aggregation of another meloid, Epicauta costata, on herbicide-treated Kali tragus (prickly Russian thistle). I finished off the stop by finding a spectacular ridged tenebrionid beetle walking about after the sinking sun went behind some clouds.

Lytta biguttata on yellow composite flower.
Epicauta costata on herbicide-treated Kali tragus (prickly Russian thistle).
Epicauta costata on herbicide-treated Kali tragus (prickly Russian thistle).

Day 5 – Sunshine, New Mexico
We saw a nice stand of what proved to be Picradeniopsis absinthifolia (formerly Bahia absinthifolia, hairyseed bahia) and stopped to check them for buprestids/meloids. None were seen, just a few bees and lots of bee flies (genus Geron?). We did find a fair number of Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid) crawling on the roadsides in a patch of Solanum elaeagnifolium (silverleaf nightshade).

Geron? sp. (family Bombyliidae) on flower of Picradeniopsis absinthifolia (hairyseed bahia).
Geron? sp. (family Bombyliidae) on flower of Picradeniopsis absinthifolia (hairyseed bahia).

Columbus, New Mexico
We found a moist drainage along the roadside with plants blooming in abundance, including Isocoma tenuisecta (burroweed) and Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow); however, insects were very scarce. I didn’t see any buprestids or cerambycids at all on any of the plants, only picking up one Lytta biguttata and one Cotinis mutabilis on the Isocoma and sweeping single examples of a small black/red Cleridae from the latter and a yellow-flowered composite.

Pepsis thisbe (Thisbe’s tarantula-hawk wasp) on flowers of Isocoma tenuisecta (burroweed).

Animas, New Mexico
We drove a fair distance west hoping to get into a different rainfall system in hope that insects would be present and saw a roadside in good bloom with the surrounding creosote scrub also green and blooming. As soon as we got out of the car we saw big beetles flying overhead and tracked them back to several creosote bushes very near the car with an aggregation of yet another blister beetle, Pyrota postica, which were mating and feeding on the flowers and leaves. After taking a few photos (and collecting my small series), I started sweeping through the variety of plants in bloom along the roadsides. I did not see anything on the flowers themselves (including Baileya multiradiata, pretty good buprestid flower) but collected a series of clytrine chrysomelids and one Dectes sp. While sweeping through Sphaeralcea hastulata (spear globemallow), I got one Agaeocera gentilis, and sweeping though a mix of S. hastulata and S. angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow) I got three Agrilus sp. (perhaps the same as I collected south of Van Horn, Texas). Finally, on the latter, I found one more A. gentilis perched on the leaf.

Pyrota postica female on flowering Larrea tridentata (creosote).
Pyrota postica female feeding on the flowers of Larrea tridentata (creosote).
Sphaeralcea hastulata (spear globemallow).

Portal, Arizona
Finally made it to Arizona, and for the first stop I wanted to try a spot below Portal where I’ve had limited success finding Sphaerobothris ulkei on Ephedra. Last time I was I here I found a few, but not until after being distracted by Gyascutus caelatus and Hippomelas sphenicus in the acacias and mesquites. I vowed not to let that happen this time and weaved a zigzag pattern looking at every Ephedra I could find. While I was doing that. I did see one G. caelatus take flight and then caught another that I saw sitting on Vachellia constricta (white-thorn acacia) but remained focused on looking at the Ephedra. Eventually, after not seeing any S. ulkei, I started looking for other buprestids. The acacias were just beginning to flower—only a few plants had open flowers, and Jeff noticed the tiny silhouette of an insect in flight approaching the flowers. He netted it and showed it to me, and to my surprise it was one of the species in the A. stigmata group (black with two red apical spots)—none of which I have ever collected before but which I believe could be A. davidsoni. We spent the next hour watching for and netting the silhouettes on the few trees we could find with flowers, and then I got the beating sheet out and beat more off of the trees (whether in flower or not) to end up with a nice little series. I’ll be anxious to confirm whether these are A. davidsoni.

Mozena arizonensis on Vachellia constricta (white-thorn acacia).
Vachellia constricta (white-thorn acacia).

South of Willcox, Arizona
We got to Willcox around dusk, and the cool, breezy conditions told my gut that it would be pointless to set up the lights. Still, I couldn’t let myself not try, and without much opportunity to look for a good place to set up I just went down Blu Sky Rd to E Moonlight Rd and hoped for the best. My optimism waned rapidly, as conditions continued getting colder and breezier, and not a single insect came to the light—I should’ve listened to my gut!

Moonrise. A twilight zone moment occurred when I realized that I had taken this photo on Moonlight Rd!😮

Day 6 – Jim Wappes Celebration, Hereford, Arizona
Fun day with lots of fellow coleopterists at the home of Steven Lingafelter and Norm Woodley in memory of Jim Wappes. We got there in the early afternoon and enjoyed eats, conversation, and war stories from the field.

Min, Sangmi Lee, Lisa Lee, Candy Kuckartz, the author, Margarethe Brummermann, Jason Botz, & Andrew Johnston (photo by Steven Lingafelter).
The author, Andrew Johnston, Norm Woodley, & Ed Riley (photo by Margarethe Brummermann).

It was a good day for a party, as rain made insect collecting a no-go. As dusk settled, I admired the incredible view from Steve’s and Norm’s back patio!

Low clouds hang over the Huachuca Mountains.

The fun extended well into the evening hours. My thanks to Steve and Norm for hosting the celebration—what fun to see and talk to so many entomologists in one place.

Steve Lingafelter, Gino Nearns, “Kira Brummermann,” & the author (photo by Margarethe Brummermann).
Bill Warner, Norm Woodley, Paul Skelley, Jeff Huether, Steve Lingafelter, Andrew Johnston, & the author (photo by Margarethe Brummermann)

Day 7 – Superstition Mountains, Weaver’s Needle Vista Viewpoint, Arizona
We awoke to rain yesterday morning in Willcox, and it has stayed with us since—first on our way to Hereford for the Wappes Celebration, then up to Phoenix this morning—our efforts to escape the rain by coming north thus proving futile. I came to this spot on a tip that I might find Agrilus cavifrons on Celtis pallida (spiny hackberry) (although maybe a bit early), and I’d hoped despite the light rain I would still be able to find it. I did not—though I found the plants, but I did get a Chrysobothris sp. that I don’t recognize while beating Senegalia greggii (formerly Acacia greggii, cat-claw acacia). Of course, it was on the first plant that I beat, so I ended up beating for another hour with nothing to show for it! While walking the short paved trail, I found Cercidium sp. (palo verde) tree that had been cut up and showed evidence of buprestid infestation in one of the larger branches, so I retrieved and cut it up for rearing.

Water… water… everywhere!
Cylindropuntia fulgida (chain-fruit cholla, jumping cholla, hanging chain cholla).

Lost Dutchman State Park, Arizona
We made a quick stop here to admire its incredible scenery before heading back south.

Superstition Mountains as seen from Lost Dutchman State Park.
Stands of Cylindropuntia fulgida (chain-fruit cholla) frame this view of the Superstition Mountains from Lost Dutchman State Park.
Carnegiea gigantea (saguaro) in front of the Superstition Mountains.
Carnegiea gigantea (saguaro).

Upper Tanque Verde Falls Trailhead, Tucson, Arizona
The rain finally moved out and it was sunny for the drive back to Tucson, but with still-cool temps we weren’t sure if lighting would be worthwhile. We decided to try this spot—not too high (based on a tip by Bill Warner), and I setup the lights using a technique recommended by Roy Morris that involved placing one ultraviolet (UV) light on each side of the sheet, extending the Mercury-vapor lamp above to the top of the sheet, and periodically shutting off the latter to allow the UV lights the pull in the “shyer” insects before turning it back on. While I waited for the lights to started pulling things in, I did some beating around the area. I only collected one specimen, but it was a Cleridae that I don’t recognize, which was beaten off of Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite). Temps ended up in the lower 70s to upper 60s, but at the lights we still got a few longhorned beetles (Aneflomorpha sp.), a few melolonthine scarabs, and a nice series of two species of Pachybrachis (that I will send to Bob Barney).

Jeff looks for beetles at the light sheet.
Lethocerus medius at ultraviolet/mercury-vapor light in mesquite/acacia scrub.

Day 8 – Atascosa Mountains, Ruby Rd near Atascosa Lookout Trailhead, Arizona
The primary quarry here was Acmaeodera chuckbellamyi, a species I described in 2014 from a single specimen collected by my friend and hymenopterist, Mike Arduser, at this location on flowers of Aloysia sp. Several people have tried to find it since—without success, and in June 2011 the area was severely burned by the 27,550-hectare Murphy Fire. I was hoping enough time has passed to allow the area (and beetle population) to recover in this, my first attempt, at finding the species myself. I knew it was a long-shot, and long sorry short I did not find either the beetle or it’s Aloysia host flowers. I did collect a number of other beetles, however, including Lycus lorises, a few longhorned beetles and pachybrachine leaf beetles, and one Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on flowers of Eysenhardtia orthocarpa (desert kidneywood), several Aneflomorpha sp. and a few pachybrachines on Quercus oblongifolia (Mexican blue oak), and more pachybrachines on Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), Mimosa dysocarpa (velvetpod mimosa)—the latter also yielding a few tiny Chrysobothris spp. (one looking like C. lucanus), and Propopis glandulosa (mesquite). Jeff also collected and gave to me a couple of Acmaeodera parkeri on flowers of Talinum aurantiacum (orange flameflower). I hiked 0.7 mi E on Ruby Rd to a spot where I swept a few beetles from low vegetation, and on the underside of a large, fallen branch of Q. oblingifolium I found a large female Polycesta arizonica. Finally, about halfway back to the trailhead I encountered a few tiger beetles on the road near standing puddles of water from the recent rains.

View from Ruby Rd looking south toward Mexico.
View from Ruby Rd looking southwest toward Mexico.
Lycus loripes on flowers of Eysenhardtia orthocarpa (desert kidneywood).
Lycus loripes on flowers of Eysenhardtia orthocarpa (desert kidneywood).
Talinum aurantiacum (orange flameflower).

Atascosa Mountains, Peña Blanca Lake, Arizona
We came here to look for Deltaspis tumacacorii, which like many rare beetles the odds are against finding it despite it having been taken in the area on several occasions. Again, this would not be one of those occasions, but I was happy to find a tiny tiger beetle (Cylindera viridisticta arizonensis) along the creek and even happier to beat a series of two species of Paratyndaris, one large Lampetis webbii (only my fifth specimen). and one Aneflomorpha sp. from mostly dead Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia).

Leptinotarsa lineata on Ambrosia monogyra (cheeseweed burrobrush)—adult.
Leptinotarsa lineata on Ambrosia monogyra (cheeseweed burrobrush)—larvae.

Huachuca Mountains, lower Carr Canyon, Arizona
After dropping Jeff off at his hotel in Tucson (he flies home in the morning), I high-tailed it down to Carr Canyon to do some light collecting. It has been a long time since I’ve seen my sheet covered so quickly and thoroughly with insects! My quarry was longhorned beetles—of which I got a nice variety, but who can resist also the variety of scarabs, ground beetles, tenebrionids, blister beetles, and even planthoppers that flock to the lights in the mountains of southeastern Arizona? I’ll have to control myself a little better in the coming nights! Walking about along the roadsides (hoping to see Amblycheila giant tiger beetles), I encountered a gorgeous male Aphonopelma chalcodes (Arizona blonde tarantula).

Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light setup.
Enaphalodes cortiphagus at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Parabyrsopolis chihuahuae at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Phileurus truncatus (triceratops beetle) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Chrysina beyeri (Beyer’s jewel scarab) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Chrysina gloriosa (glorious jewel scarab) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Pachysphinx occidentalis (western poplar sphinx) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Manduca florestan (Florestan sphinx) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Aphonopelma chalcodes (Arizona blonde tarantula) on ground in in oak/juniper woodland.
Aphonopelma chalcodes (Arizona blonde tarantula) on ground in in oak/juniper woodland.
Aphonopelma chalcodes (Arizona blonde tarantula) on ground in in oak/juniper woodland.

Day 9 – Huachuca Mountains, Copper Canyon, Arizona
I met Steve Lingafelter and Norm Woodley at their house, and together we drove to the famed Copper Canyon on the south side of the Huachucas. On the way I got a nice primer about the species that have been collected there and the plants they have been collected on. Steve and I started out walking the trail up the canyon while Norm swept the area down below. I pretty much beat every oak along the way, for a while only getting a smattering of beetles—Agrilaxia sp. on Quercus emoryi (Emory oak) and also on Q. arizonica (Arizona white oak) along with Sternidius decorus?. About a half-mile up the trail I beat dead branches of Q. hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) and, not seeing anything at first, said “I’m going back; I’m literally not getting anything.” Right then, a small black beetle on the sheet caught my eye. I looked at it closely and realized it was a Mastogenius (prob. M. robustus)! I popped it in the bottle and beat more dead branches from the same tree and got not only another Mastogenius but also Tigrinestola tigrina. Freshly motivated, I spent the next half-hour working all the oaks in the area—and, as often happens, did not see another beetle! Nevertheless, it was hard not to be happy with the beetles that I’d gotten.

An unidentified treehopper nymph, likely something in the subfamily Smiliinae, tribe Telamonini, on twig of Quercus arizonicus (Arizona white oak).

I walked back down the trail and met Norm, who was just starting up. He filled me in on the results from below, which included sweeping a few Agrilaxia hespenheidei—one of my target species—and an Agrilus sp. on Bouvardia ternifolia (firecrackerbush). I decided to work the slope under the road, reasoning that Norm had likely already worked the flat ground below. On the first B. ternifolia I approached, I saw an A. hespenheidei on the flower, gave the plant a sweep, and caught not only the A. hespenheidei but also an Agrilus sp. (maybe A. latifrons). Over the next hour I would sweep a nice series of A. hespenheidei from B. ternifolia (but not another Agrilus sp.). While I was doing that, I also swept the numerous stands of Acaciella angustissima (formerly Acacia angustissima, prairie acacia) looking for the large, spectacular Agrilus cavatus. I would find two, and considering that I swept perhaps 50 or more stands they were well earned. Also, in the meantime, I noticed Acmaeodera parkeri on small blue flowers that I eventually identified as Evolvulus arizonicus (Arizona blue-eyes). The flowers were few in number and the beetles difficult to catch, so I only ended up with two specimens. Further down the slope the flowers much more abundant, but there was not a beetle to be found on them. In the waning moments of my visit, I encountered two Trichodes peninsularis horni on flowers of Lasianthaea podocephala (San Pedro daisy).

Bouvardia ternifolia (firecrackerbush), flower host for Agrilaxia hespenheidei.
Acaciella angustissima (prairie acacia), host for Agrilus cavatus.
Evolvulus arizonicus (Arizona blue-eyes), flower host for Acmaeodera parkeri.
Lasianthaea podocephala, flower host for Trichodes peninsularis horni.

Eventually we all met up at the car, compared our catches (not surprisingly, Norm did very well with buprestids and Steve did very well with cerambycids), and I did okay in both counts. We headed back over Montezuma Pass and were greeted with stunning views looking down into the Coronado National Monument!

Coronado National Monument from near Montezuma Pass.

Huachuca Mountains, Miller Canyon, Arizona
After dropping Steve off, Norm and I went to nearby Miller Canyon to look at a spot where he has collected three species of Taphrocerus (I’ve only collected two, but only once way back in 1987 at a spot in the lower canyon). We thought it might be too late in the season, but it was at least worth a shot. The sedges were lush and green, but the “sedgy wedgies” were absent. Looks like I’ll have to just come back out in April or May!

After striking out with Taphrocerus, I went back down to the lower elevations of the canyon to look for Tragidion on the stand of Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom) that occurs there. Once again, I was likely too late to find them, but as with Taphrocerus it was certainly worth a shot, and again I would not find any despite looking and most of the large plants in the area. I did find a few Euphoria leucographa feeding on the sap flows and a very large red/black clytrine, so it wasn’t all for naught. Just another reason to come out earlier in the season.

Euphoria leucographa feeding on a sap flow on stem of Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom).

Day 10 – Santa Rita Mountains, upper Box Canyon, Arizona
After getting reports of buprestid activity near Madera Canyon, I decided to head to the Santa Rita Mountains today instead of continuing in the Huachucas. The shortest route to this most famous of canyons in the Santa Ritas goes down Box Canyon, a less-well-known but still-fantastic canyon in its own right and where I’ve had good luck collecting the two previous times I’ve been there (August 2018 w/ Art Evans, Steve Lingafelter, and Norm Woodley; and September 2019 w/ Jeff Huether). I stopped at the “dry falls” and worked my way back up the road to a point where I’ve collected the majority of my insects there. Along the way, I beat the flowering Eysenhardtia orthocarpa (desert kidneywood)—insects were not numerous on the plants, but over the course of the trips up and back I got Acmaeodera gibbula, A. cazieri, two Aneflomorpha sp., and a few Lycus sp. I also swept the just-beginning-to-flower Mimosa dysocarpa (velvetpod mimosa) but got just a single Sphaenothecus bivittatus. When I reached the top of the canyon, I looked for a small patch of Allionia incarnata (creeping four-o’clock) in the steep road bank, off the flowers of which I have previously collected Acmaeodera cazieri, A. parkeri, and A. yuccavora. I found the patch, but the plants were not yet in flower. What was in flower on the flats above the bank, however, was Talinum aurantiacum (orange flameflower), off which I collected all three species (A. cazieri being the most abundant and only a single A. cazieri). As at previous stops this week, it seems that insect activity is beginning but is still a bit shy of coming into full peak.

Larva of Euscirrhopterus gloveri (purslane moth), which was present in outbreak numbers on a portulacaceous plant growing amongst Talinum aurantiacum.

While I was collecting, a caravan of cars came by. They turned out to be filled with entomologists attending the Invertebrates in Education Conference, one of whom I knew—Tad Yankoski of the Sophia M. Sachs Butterfly House in my hometown of St. Louis. He handed me a vial containing a large, live individual of Polycesta aruensis. I was excited to see this, especially when he told me he found it and saw many more in the flats below Madera Canyon, where I had planned to go next!

Santa Rita Mountains, flats below Madera Canyon, Arizona
It was a frustrating afternoon on several fronts. Starting off, I had trouble finding the Polycesta aruensis locality, and when I finally did find it there was nary a Polycesta to be seen. Perhaps they sleep during the heat of the day.🤷 After that, there was little time to go anywhere but Madera Canyon, where I spent a half-hour beating Quercus oblongifolia (Mexican blue oak) hoping to see Chrysobothris chalcophoroides (I didn’t) and another two hours checking out Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom) in the area where I collected Stenaspis verticalis and Tragidion deceptus two years ago (also fruitless). Of course, the dreadfully common Stenaspis solitaria was everywhere, but all I ended up collecting was a tenebrionid on the 2-track, a clytrine beaten from Cercidium aculeata (retama), and one Euphoria leucographa along with a nondescript cerambycid (Heaperophanini maybe) on B. sarothroides. On the way back to the vehicle, I encountered a dead, mostly skeletonized deer, and while I rarely collect from carcasses, I noticed a little green beetle crawling on the jaw bone. I figured it must be the cosmopolitan clerid, Necrobia rufipes—something I’d not seen before, so I collected it and tried to collect but missed another one.

Rain clouds gather over Madera Canyon.
Another view of the mouth of Madera Canyon.
Magusa sp. (one of the narrow-wings) caterpillar feeding on Sarcomphalus obtusifolius (lotebush).

Santa Rita Mountains, lower Florida Canyon, Arizona
I suppose I can credit my frustrating afternoon for one of my best nights of lighting ever. I stumbled upon this spot at the bottom of Florida Canyon during this afternoon’s Polycesta wild-goose chase and immediately thought, “Wow, what a perfect spot to set up a light!” A nice place to pull off the road with a small, level clearing embedded within low-elevation oak woodland. There was even a babbling creek in the background! It was close to dark by the time I returned and set up the lights (would’ve been even later if I’d gone into town for a “real” dinner). Ironically, there were neither the diversity nor quantity of beetles as two nights ago in lower Carr Canyon. But the cerambycids brought it… and kept bringing it! It seemed like every time I got up to check the sheet there were another 4–5 individuals. I ended up leaving the sheet up for four full hours and collected perhaps 40–50 specimens representing a dozen or more species. A few I don’t recognize, and most of those that I do recognize have resided in my cabinet in precious few numbers until now. It’s been years literally since I’ve had a night like this, and it’s a nice shot of motivation leading into the last few days of what is starting to feel like a long trip.

Sometimes circumstances dictate an unusual dinner.
Enaphalodes niveitectus at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Tigrinestola tigrinus at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Coenopoeus palmeri at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Syssphinx hubbardi (Hubbard’s silk moth) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Eacles oslari (Oslar’s imperial moth) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.

Day 11 – Madera Canyon Rd, Continental, Arizona
I came back to the spot where Tad Yankoski had seen Polycesta aruensis so abundantly yesterday morning but which was completely absent by the time I got there in the afternoon. I did not see any adults on the trees this morning either and was about to give up when I spotted a few partially dead trees with very large, apparently fresh emergence holes in the main trunks that were the perfect size for P. aruensis—good thing I brought my chainsaw! I cut a trunk with its branches and segregated the cut up wood into age (fresh dead versus older) and size (twigs, medium branches, and main trunk) classes. While I was doing this, a Polycesta adult dropped off one of the fresh-dead, medium-sized branches! I beat the remaining branches on the tree and on nearby trees but did not see any more, so whatever Tad witnessed yesterday morning must have been an ephemeral event, perhaps related to synchronized emergence from the very trees among which I collected the wood. NOTE: don’t let anyone tell you that cutting up wood for rearing beetles is anything but a sweaty, exhausting endeavor, even with temps still in the mid-80s and decent cloud cover!

This camouflaged tanker marks the spot—trees on the W side of the tanker.
Job half-done—wood cut up.
Job complete—wood segregated and bundled.

Santa Rita Mountains, lower Florida Canyon, Arizona
I had such good night collecting here last night that I thought I’d come back and see what I could find during the day in this ribbon of riparian oak/hackberry woodland. Almost immediately I beat a Paratyndaris sp. off of dead Celtis reticulata (netleaf hackberry). The tree was very dead, but I knew Paratyndaris spp. like old, dead wood, so I split open some of the branches and found larvae inside and also a dead and unemerged but perfectly intact adult of a very tiny Chrysobothris sp. inside one of the smaller branches. Beating on other plants in the area was, in general, fruitless, but occasionally (and just often enough) I encountered something of interest that motivated me to continue working: Paratyndaris sp. and Agrilus sp. on Quercus oblongifolia (Arizona white oak), a small red/brown elaterid on Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite), and Acmaeoderopsis sp., Paratyndaris sp., and a few clytrines on Senegalia greggii (cat-claw acacia).

Lower Florida Canyon.
Celtis reticulata (netleaf hackberry).

Santa Rita Mountains, Gardner Canyon, Arizona
Last night, I got a message from fellow buprestophile Robert Velten, who told me that he would be in Gardner Canyon the next day, so after finishing at Florida Canyon I drove over to Gardner Canyon to meet up with him. Despite being longtime correspondents, Rob and I had never actually met face-to-face, so I was thrilled to have the chance to do so and spend some time with him in the field. Joining him were his mothing buddies Steve McElfresh and Paul Tuskes, and a little later our mutual friend and Arizona coleopterist-extraordinaire, Margarethe Brummermann, also joined us for a night of lighting. It was great to spend time at the lights with so many like-minded folks! There were three light stations between us, but the weather was less than cooperative—a persistent cool breeze accompanied constant lighting and thunder in the mountains above. Eventually, the threat was realized when the skies opened up, prompting a hasty dismantling and storage of all my lighting equipment safely inside the vehicle. Nevertheless, in the time that I was able to collect, I got a small number of longhorned beetles (half of which came to my light in the moments I was taking it down—longhorns typically become very active right before a storm) along with a variety of showy scarabs and clerids. The rain ended as quickly as it began, so the socializing continued. The entire evening I was continuously taunted, however, by a large prionid sitting inside its emergence hole on the trunk of a large Quercus emoryi (Emory oak). It only showed its jaws and antennae, and if I even touched the tree to boost myself up for a closer look it withdrew deep into the hole. I’m convinced it was Nothopleura madericus—a species I’ve never collected. I can still hear it laughing at me! My attempt to find one out and about by scanning the trunks and branches of of the other oaks in the area with my headlight was not successful, although I did collect another elaphidiine longhorn in such manner.

Polyphylla decemlineata (or perhaps a new species) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Lucanus mazama (cottonwood stag beetle) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Hemiphileurus illatus at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Cymatodera horni at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Manduca rustica (rustic sphinx) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.

Day 12 – Santa Rita Mountains, Gardner Canyon, Arizona
Rob had noticed a stand of Anisacanthus thurberi (desert honeysuckle)—a host for Spectralia cuprescens—along the road into Gardner Canyon, so together (after morning coffee!) we checked the spot on the way out. The plants were in the early stages of leafing out, and after visually inspecting them for a while and not seeing anything I decided to get out the beating sheet to sample the stand more thoroughly. My eyes did not deceive me—neither one of us found any. Too early? Low population? Who knows! I did beat one clytrine off the plants and collected a few weevils by beating Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) before finding Acmaeodera parkeri and A. cazieri on the flowers of Allionia incarnata (creeping four o’clock). The flowers were common in the area around the road, but no Acmaeodera were seen until I started scaling the steep hillside nearby—a similar situation in which I’ve found these species on this flower in Box Canyon.

Rob Velten and the author enjoying morning coffee (photo by Margarethe Brummermann).
Dense stand of Anisacanthus thurberi (desert honeysuckle) in Gardner Canyon.
Gardner Creek running full after last night’s rain.
Yours truly with buprestophile extraordinaire Rob Velten.

Huachuca Mountains, upper Carr Canyon, Reef Township Campground, Arizona
I’ve been wanting to explore the higher reaches of Carr Canyon ever since I arrived in Arizona a full week ago. It is the only high canyon in the Huachucas that has a road leading all the way into its upper reaches. At these high elevations the forest is Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) and Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak). There are many species of woodboring beetles at these high elevations that simply aren’t found down below. Another reason is the recent discovery up here of one of the rarest and most enigmatic of North American longhorned beetles, Placoschema dimorpha. Not even know to science until it was described from Mexico in 2007, it has since popped up here and a few other places in southeast Arizona—some of which have been heavily studied by coleopterists or many decades. Now, I didn’t actually <u>expect</u> to find such a rare thing, but maybe I could get lucky or at least find some other unusual species. The specimen at this location was photographed on a burned pine tree; however, I do not think that is the host (as far as I am aware, no species in the tribe utilizes gymnosperms as larval hosts). I think the host must be oak, as is the case for many trachderines. So, while I kept an eye out for burned pine trees, I also looked for oak, and especially recently dead oaks showing signs of woodboring beetle infestation. I did some of beating on Q. hypoleucoides and had collected just a clerid (Enoclerus bimaculatus) when I came upon a recently fallen Q. hypoleucoides that showed a few buprestid(ish) emergence holes and looked to be “the right age.” Cutting away the bark of the trunk revealed galleries, and chopping into sapwood revealed buprestid larvae in their galleries. I tagged it for retrieval, eventually cutting it up and segregating the trunk sections from the branches. Very nearby, I found another dead Q. hypoleucoides, this one much smaller and apparently cut rather than fallen. Unlike the previous one, however, this one showed the round holes with ejecting frass that indicated infestation by cerambycid rather than buprestid larvae. Cutting into the wood confirmed the presence of such, and so this one also was later cut up and bundled for bringing back. I saw no beetles on the trunks of any of the many fire-scarred pines lofting overhead, but at one point I spotted in the distance the telltale brown flagging of a recently died pine up the slope. Hiking up to it took some effort, but when I reached it the first thing I saw was a giant click beetle—Chalcolepidius apacheanus (Apache click beetle)—nestled against the ground at the base of the trunk (apparently ovipositing?). Inspecting the trunk of the tree itself, I noted just a few buprestid emergence holes that seemed fresh. Once again, chopping away the bark revealed the frass-packed galleries, and chopping into the heartwood revealed a large pre-pupal buprestid larvae. This was put into a vial, and I noted the location so I could return with the chainsaw and “bring ‘er down.” As I was cutting up the oaks, I found some small, recently cut pine branches near where I had parked the car. I found (and accidentally killed) a woodboring beetle larva of some type (I mangled it pretty good, but I think it was a buprestid) in one of them, so that was good enough to earn a spot in the rearing tubs. Unfortunately, I was not able to retrieve the dead pine tree—cutting up the oaks took a fair bit of time, during which darkening clouds gathered over the nearby peaks. Eventually cracks of thunder began piercing the air. It was all I could do to get the oaks into the car and all of the equipment put away before heavy rain drops began pelting the car. I had no idea what the storm would bring, but the last thing I wanted to be was stranded on the top of a mountain on my last full day of field collecting. As it turned out, the storm was more bark than bite (although the sharp drop in temperatures would kill lighting later in the evening). Perhaps I’ll be able to get back up the mountain in the morning and retrieve the pine tree.

Chalcolepidius apacheanus (Apache click beetle) on trunk base of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).

Huachuca Mountains, lower Carr Canyon, Arizona
It seems like forever ago that I began this trip, and now the last night of collecting has arrived. I decided to come back to this spot where I’d had such good luck earlier this week, but I wasn’t optimistic given how rain chased me out of the canyon earlier. My pessimism was warranted, and while I did picked up a variety of things, it included only two longhorns—both rather pedestrian species. No, the real charm of the night came not from collecting insects, but after the lights were down and my mind was free to wander as I leaned back in my chair and gazed into the crisp, dark, starry Arizona sky—its perimeter along the horizon bound by a craggy silhouette of nearby oak trees and distant peaks; from listening to the sounds of the night, alternately focusing on the individual cricket or distant coyote versus the chorus as a whole. Only to the north could I see the faint glow of city lights—the only sign that anything beyond me and this moment exist. These moments happen only once on a trip (maybe twice), and they are to be savored; indelibly stamped into the memory banks for future enjoyment; one of those experiences that, when recalled, is guaranteed to trigger euphoric recall.

Campground set for a final night of lighting.
Manduca sexta (Carolina sphinx) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Sphinx dollii (Doll’s sphinx) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.
Sphinx dollii (Doll’s sphinx) at Mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light in oak/juniper woodland.

Day 13 – Huachuca Mountains, upper Carr Canyon, Reef Township Campground, Arizona
I went back up to the top of Carr Canyon to retrieve the dead Pinus ponderosa that I found yesterday. Good thing I did, as I also found my favorite hatchet (which I’d inadvertently left behind yesterday). The 9” diameter trunk was almost too big a job for my Stihl MiniBoss chainsaw, but I kept at it and finally felled the the 25’ tall tree. It took three trips up and down the steep slope—each round trip almost a half-mile—to haul out the upper 10 ft of trunk and associated branches, which I segregated into three batches for rearing: trunk, 1–2” día. branches, and <1” dia. twigs. Now let’s hope the effort was worth it and I get some good species out of the wood.

Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) dominates the high elevations in the Huachuca Mountains.

Huachuca Mountains, near Carr Canyon, Waterfall, Arizona
One last stop to take in the terrifyingly magnificent views from atop Carr Canyon! You can see the road that I traveled up this morning snaking back down the right side of the mountain. The massif to the left is the highest point that you can see from the valley below, but there are much higher peaks behind me.

Terrifyingly steep, magnificently endless drop!
Carr Canyon Rd snakes up the right side of the mountain.
This massif is the highest point visible from the mouth of the canyon.

Epilogue
Sadly, I could squeeze no more stops into the trip—I’d allowed myself two days to make the 24-hour drive back to St. Louis, and it was already almost noon on the first of the two days. I left, however, with a rack full of vials filled with insects and a renewed love for Arizona and the desert southwest that first captured my heart some 37 years ago!

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

2021 West Texas Insect Collecting Trip iReport

Alternative title: Rich and Ted’s “Excellenter” Adventure.

This is the ninth “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering a 10-day trip to western Texas from April 27 to May 6, 2021 with friend and local collecting buddy Rich Thoma. Rich and I have done many shorter collecting trips (up to five days) throughout Missouri and in the neighboring states of Kansas, Nebraska, and Oklahoma (in fact, our first joint trip was to Barber County, Kansas way back in May 1986!). This trip, however, was our first truly long one together—10 days of collecting plus a travel day on each end. To take full advantage of the amount of time we had, we chose western Texas; an area that I have visited several times from the mid-90s through 2004 but not since. We wanted to make the trip during early to mid-May, but scheduling conflicts forced us to go earlier. I reasoned that even if it was a bit too early in the season, I could still collect infested wood for rearing—as I did with great success during my April 2004 trip. For Rich, who is more of a general insect collector, the trip provided him an opportunity for extended collecting in an area that he’d not previously spent a lot of time.

As with all previous “iReports” in this series, this report is illustrated exclusively with iPhone photographs (thus the term “iReport”), with previous versions including the following:
2013 Oklahoma
2013 Great Basin
2014 Great Plains
2015 Texas
2018 New Mexico/Texas
2018 Arizona
2019 Arkansas/Oklahoma
2019 Arizona/California


Day 1 – Monahans State Park, Shin Oak Picnic Area
First stop of the trip. I was hoping to see beetles on flowers and maybe some tiger beetles, but unfortunately the area hasn’t had any rain yet this spring (according to the ranger). The mesquite was in bloom, but the only beetles I beat from it were a few tiny weevils. A few other plants were in bloom, but only one—Hymenopappus flavescens—had beetles on it (mordellids, which I picked up for Enrico Ruzzier). After a lot of walking I noticed Quercus havardii (shin oak) with flagged branches of dead leaves—a bit of investigation revealed it had been attacked by what must be Chrysobothris mescalero, so I collected as many flagged branches as I could find (7 total) and will bring them back for rearing.

Monahans Sandhills State Park.
Oenethera berlandieri (Berlandier’s sundrops).
Penstemon buckleyi (Buckley’s beardtongue).
Hymenopappus flavescens (collegeflower)—host flower for mordellids).
Chaetopappa ericoides (rose-heath).
Quercus havardii (shin oak) attacked by buprestid, presumably Chrysobothris mescalero.

Monahans State Park, Sandhills Picnic Area
The big dunes are in this area. We didn’t expect to see any insects but brought our nets anyway. As we were walking the ridge we saw two grouse-like birds in the distance. We tracked them for a bit before I decided to go back and get my binoculars. They kept us at bay, but eventually I was able to get close enough to get a good look at them—they turned out to be scaled quail, a new bird for me. We continued tracking them and eventually they were joined by two more individuals. Handsome birds!

Rich scans the vast sand dunes.
Endless dunes!

Monahans State Park, Shin Oak Picnic Area
After going into town and picking up some dinner, we came back out to the park and setup the ultraviolet lights. I didn’t have much optimism based on the lack of insect activity we saw during the day, but the temperatures were still plenty warm (well into the 80s) and we had nothing better to do. We returned to the Shin Oak Picnic Area since it had a mix of open and more vegetated dunes. Glad we did because two male Prionus arenarius, one Megacyllene antennata, and a tiny, unidentified elaphidiine came to the lights. I also found two small darkling beetles crawling on the sand nearby. I searched the surrounding sand hoping to find more males looking for females, or perhaps even a female herself, but found none. Wolf spiders, however, were common on the sand, their glowing eyes drawing attention beyond their abundance. I guess they are a species of Hogna, but I’m not certain—I photographed two individuals. Also got a large bostrichid (Apatides fortis?) at the light. Before we took down the lights, Rich called me over to see a tiny, slender, worm-like snake that we eventually determined was one of the blind snakes (Leptotyphlum sp.)—definitely a first for me.

Blacklights setup and humming.
Prionus arenarius male in front of the blacklight. This species is restricted to sand dune systems in west Texas and southeastern New Mexico.
Megacyllene antennata at ultraviolet light.
Hogna sp. (burrow-living wolf spider)—individual . This one appears to be a large female.
Hogna sp. (burrow-living wolf spider)—individual .
Hogna sp. (burrow-living wolf spider)—individual .

Day 2 – Toyahyale
We stopped here on a tip from Jason Hansen and Tyler Hedlund, who swept good numbers of Agrilus cochisei off of Ambrosia psilostachya (western ragweed)—albeit, a few weeks later during May. I found the plants, but they were very small and low to the ground. Nevertheless, adults could be swept abundantly from the plants, and I was able to take good photos of singles and a mating pair with the big camera (iPhone photo here just to show what they loook like). Also got a single specimen of an apparently undescribed Acmaeodera sp. while sweeping for A. cochisei and one of two A. cochisei adults that I saw on flowers of Sphaeralcea sp.

Ambrosia psilostachya (western ragweed).
Agrilus cochesei mating pair on Ambrosia psilostachya (western ragweed).

Davis Mountains, 15.8 mi NE Ft. Davis
We stopped here to look for the undescribed species of Acmaeodera, which Jason had found in good numbers during May on blooms of Lygodesmia and Convolvulus. Both plants were present, but neither was in bloom. Still, I found one adult on flowers of Verbina sp. and swept another from roadside vegetation. Ambrosia polystachia (western ragweed) was also present—I looked visually for Agrilus cochisei and did not see any, but I did get one adult and a couple of cryptocephalines in the sweeping that produced the second Acmaeodera.

Verbina sp. (host for Acmaeodera sp.).
Verbina sp. (host for Acmaeodera sp.).

Day 3 – Point of Rocks Roadside Park
The weather turned decidedly cool in the Davis Mountains—first time I’ve ever frozen camping out on a collecting trip. The high temps are expected to stay in the 50s to 60s with a chance of rain for the next few days, so we decided to head down to the Big Bend area where there is still a chance of rain but warmer temps (up to the high 70s). Maybe we’ll come back to this area next week. Before leaving, however, I wanted to check the Quercus vasseyana (vassey oak) at Point of Rocks, where in the past I collected a good series of Mastogenius texanus even earlier in April (it was actually undescribed at the time). I’ve also collected Elytroleptus lycid-mimicking cerambycids on soapberry flowers here in June, although I knew the soapberry would not be in bloom. There was nothing on the oaks, but I did collect a few miscellaneous beetles beating Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) and found one vassey oak branch with evidence of wood-boring beetle larval feeding and which I collected for rearing.

Point of Rocks Roadside Park.

17 mi S Alpine
This is the first of two picnic areas along Hwy 118 going south from Alpine towards Big Bend National Park. There are lots of big Quercus vasseyana and Q. grisea here, so I stopped to see if I could find any infested wood. Bingo—one of the Q. grisea had a dead branch hanging from it that looked recently dead, and breaking apart a few of its smaller branches revealed fresh larval workings of some kind of buprestid (perhaps Polycesta arizonica). I cut of the branch and will bring back the bundle for rearing.

Dead Quercus grisea (gray oak) cut and bundled for rearing.

26 mi S Alpine
This is the second of two picnic areas south of Alpine on Hwy 118 towards Big Bend National Park. Rich and I have both stopped here before, and Rich brought back infested wood (apparently Juglans sp.) from which I reared Chrysobothris comanche, so that was the plan again unless we saw active insects. We did not, so I scanned the trees and found a small Celtis laevigata (sugarberry) that had recently died—the bark was peeling, but there were no emergence holes that I could see. I started chopping into the trunk wood and quickly encountered a large buprestid larvae in its “pre-pupal fold”. This could be Texania fulleri based on host and location, so I cut a couple of bolts from the trunk to bring back for rearing. The branches also showed fresh larval workings, so I cut up one along with its smaller branchlets to also bring back for rearing.

Texania sp. prob. fulleri larva in trunk sapwood of dead Celtis laevigata (sugarberry).

3.3 mi W of Hwy 118 on Agua Fria Rd.
Last stop of the day, which I was told could have water with tiger beetles. The creekbed was bone dry, and I collected but a single Chrysobothris sp. beating Prosopis glandulosa in flower—amazing given the proliferation of wildflowers that were in bloom. We did find a nautiloid/ammonite-type fossil in the bone-dry creekbed, which Rich says is of Cretaceous origin based on clam fossils in the underlying layer, and I tracked a common poorwill (Phalaenoptilus nuttallii) for a little bit, eventually getting close enough for the rare iPhone bird photo. Interesting position it assumed upon landing with its wings outstretched above its back.

Amazing wildflower displays in the area.
Seam in sedimentary layer of bedrock. I’m not sure if it is of volcanic provenance.
Nautiloid/ammonite-type fossil—large (about 8” diameter).
Common poorwill (Phalaenoptilus nuttallii) feigning injury.

Big Bend Ranch State Park, West Contrabondo Campground
We arrived in Study Butte with just enough time to check into a motel and get dinner before heading out to Big Bend Ranch State Park. The drive through the park was incredible as we searched for a spot to setup the lights. After finding such spot, however, we were greeted as we got out of the car by a stiff, chilly wind. I knew there was no point in going through the trouble to setup, so instead we drove further down the 2-track to an amazing scenic overlook into an impressive box canyon. Words cannot describe the contortions this acrophobiac took to find good position for these photos, but it was well worth the views.

Dusk along Hwy 170 approaching Big Bend Ranch State Park.
Sunset over canyon near West Contrabondo Campground.
The closest I will ever get to the edge of a canyon!

Day 4 – Big Bend National Park, Boquillas Canyon Trail
Well, the rain and cold continue to follow us. Rather than trying once again to drive somewhere else to escape, we decided to just sit this day out and visit the national park (not a bad Plan B!). Boquillas Canyon is an amazing slice through the rocks along the course of the Rio Grande River, and we hiked as far into the canyon as we could before sheet rock on the left and deep water on the right prevented any further progress. We saw only two insects—a tiger beetle larva that I “fished” out of one of the many larval burrows we saw (definitely Tetracha, and likely T. carolina) and a velvet ant (black head and pronotum, red abdomen).

Rio Grande River from Boquillas Canyon Trail.
Tetracha sp. prob. carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) larva extracted from its borrow.
Mouth of Boquillas Canyon.
Mouth of Boquillas Canyon.
Cobblestone view of Boquillas Canyon.
Rio Grande River in Boquillas Canyon.
Rich contemplates emigration.
Still contemplating.

Big Bend National Park, near Panther Junction
Driving towards the Chisos Mountains after hiking the Boquillas Canyon Trail, we encountered this fine adult male Aphonopelmis hentzii (Texas tarantula) crossing the road.

Male Aphonopelmis hentzii (Texas tarantula).

Big Bend National Park, Chisos Basin, Window Trail
After lunching at Panther Junction, we headed up the into the Chisos Mountains towards Chisos Basin. Heavy clouds shrouded the peaks, so we weren’t sure what we would encounter up there, and once in the cloud zone and then heading down into the basin we could hardly see anything. Suddenly the western side of the basin came into view, still overcast and drizzly but at least free from the heavy fog that shrouded the eastern half of the basin. That made our decision of which trail to hike easy—the Lost Mines Trail under heavy fog versus the Window Trail with semi-clear views. I’ve hiked the Window Trail several times, but the last time was 17 years ago, and Rich in his single attempt a year or two later did not make it to the “Window” due to an impatient 10-year old son in tow. The views on the way down the canyon were spectacular—not despite the rain and clouds but because of it. It is a rare opportunity to see richly moist desert mountains shrouded in mist. At one point on the way down, a Woodhouse’s scrub jay (Aphelocoma woodhouseii) caught our attention—sitting very nearby in a tree before hopping down to the ground and nonchalantly pecking for bugs. Another soon joined him, first landing on a branch just a few feet above me and returning my captivated stare for a few moments before joining his mate on the trail ahead of us… followed shortly by a third individual. Their soft chirpings were a charming contrast to their more familiar raucous calls, and Rich and I soaked in the moment until they moved on. The trail is not an easy hike—nearly 7 miles round trip, dropping over a thousand feet on the way down, and then gaining over a thousand feet on the way back. The “Window,” however, is a sight to behold—a narrow gap in the rocks soaring high overhead with a view out onto the desert floor almost a thousand feet below. There is tempting danger at the window—its smooth, water-carved rocks are deceptively slippery even in dry conditions, and with the rain of the day they were especially so. I would not be surprised to learn that at least one person had made a fatal error in judging how close to the window one can get. They would have had plenty of time to think about that mistake on the way down! The views on the way back up were even more breathtaking, as fog enshrouded the high peaks towering above us. Periodically the sun attempted to push through the clouds, creating surreal lighting in a battle of sun versus rain, but eventually the rain won out and fell steadily on us for the last, switchback-laden mile back to the trailhead. As for insects, we actually did see some despite the rain—a few blister beetles resting torpidly on yellow composite flowers.

Window Trailhead.
Chisos Mountains’ South Rim from Window Trail.
Chisos Mountains east rim from Window Trail.
Beginning the descent to the “Window.”
Rich photographs a Woodhouse’s scrub-jay.
Yellow composites bloom en masse.
Resting point halfway down—Rich’s prior turnaround point.
The descent steepens!
Steps carved into the rock aid the traverse across slippery rocks.
The “Window” from as close as I was willing.
The author (left) and Rich document their arrival at the “Window.”
Looking back at the “Window” from a bit further back up the trail.
Beginning the rugged, 1,000-ft ascent back up to the basin.
Clouds and mist shroud the surrounding peaks.
A rainy last few miles provides a spectacular last look at from whence we came.

Day 5 – Big Bend National Park, Sotol Overlook
We’re on our way to Santa Elena Canyon and stopped at this overlook. From a distance of 14 air miles, the canyon entrance looks like a tiny split in the rocks, belying the 1000-foot canyon walls that await us. Cacti were nicely in bloom, if a bit rain battered—two species of yellow-flowered Opuntia (pricklypear) and the always extraordinary pink flowers of Cylindropuntia imbricata (tree cholla). No insects were to be found, but we did find a live Orthoporus ornatus (desert millipede)—the first that we’ve seen on this trip—who obliged us by coiling into its classic defensive pose.

View towards Santa Elena Canyon—some 15 miles to the south—from Sotol Vista Overlook.
Orthoporus ornatus (desert millipede).
Cylindropuntia imbricata (tree cholla).

Big Bend National Park, Santa Elena Canyon
From 14 air miles away, Santa Elena Canyon looks like a tiny split in a little cliff (see previous post). Up close, however, it’s soaring walls tower 1000 feet overhead! The hike into the canyon features a tortuous staircase to bypass a narrows, followed by a leisurely stroll along the canyon bottoms along the Rio Grande River. Rain last night has triggered an en masse millipede emergence, and even a few insects were seen: velvet ant; Acmaeodera mixta, Trichodes sp. and Gnathium sp. on yellow composite flowers; and Omorgus sp. crawling in the sand.

Undetermined yellow composite in Rio Grande River floodplain.
Euodynerus pratensis on flower of undetermined yellow composite.
Mouth of Santa Elena Canyon.
The Rio Grande River spills forth from Santa Elena Canyon.
Agave lechuguilla (lechuguilla).
View of Mexican side of Santa Elena Canyon from the U.S. side.
The Santa Elena Canyon Trail probes deeper into the canyon.
Narrowing canyon walls.
No more land!

Big Bend National Park, Cerro Castellan (Castolon Peak)
The layers visible in Cerro Castellan reveal millions of years of volcanic events. Stacked in this tower are several lava flows and volcanic tuffs (ash deposits), with layers of gravel and clay from periods of erosion between eruptions. Cerro Castellan’s cap rock is the same lava that formed the Chisos’ South Rim. The lighter orange and gray layers beneath are tuffs.

Cerro Castellan (Castolon Peak).
A smaller peak northwest of Cerro Castellan rises above volcanic tuffs (ash deposits) in the foreground.
Cerro Castellan (Castolon Peak).

Big Bend National Park, Tuff Canyon Trail
Some of the oldest layers of volcanic rocks lie at the bottom of Tuff Canyon. It is dry most of the time, but summer thunderstorm runoff churns through the canyon, cutting it deeper. This canyon is narrower and deeper than most others in Big Bend, partly because the light gray volcanic tuff is relatively cohesive. Swift, powerful floodwaters will cut down through any kind of bedrock, but the tuff is better able to resist the widening effects of sideward erosion.

Looking down into Tuff Canyon.
Northern branch of Tuff Canyon.
Northern branch of Tuff Canyon.
Southern branch of Tuff Canyon.
Fouquieria splendens (ocotillo).
Entering the south end.
Chilopsis linearis (desert willow).
Rich entering the southern end of the canyon.
Deeper into the canyon.
Deeper still.
Eucnide bartonioides (rock nettle, yellow stingbush).
Eucnide bartonioides (rock nettle, yellow stingbush).
Cairns (not a natural feature).

4.6 mi W of Langtry
After leaving Big Bend National Park we started making our way towards the Del Rio area in Val Verde Co., where we plan to meet up tomorrow with a few other beetle collectors (Dan Heffern, Brian Raber, and Ed Riley). I noted that our path took us right by the type locality of the recently described tiger beetle, Amblycheila katzi. I didn’t have much hope of actually seeing the species, given that the season seems to have even really started yet and the earliest record of the species is the 23rd of May. Nevertheless, since we happened by the spot right as dusk was falling it seems a good idea to at least try. First we walked the limestone 2-track just to see what was out and about (just a few darkling beetles), then we started checking the limestone ledges where the tiger beetle can be found. We checked about 100 m of ledge without seeing any, and I was about ready to call it a night when we finally spotted one. It was running in a seam about 2 m above the ground and was unmistakable. My attempt tiger an in situ photo failed at first, and it almost escaped deep into a crevice before I pulled out my long forceps and pulled him out by a tarsus. It gave me a healthy pinch when I grabbed it while fumbling in my pack for a bottle, but eventually I prevailed. Later on I placed it back on the ledge and covered it with the Nalgene bottle cap, waited for it to calm down, then carefully lifted the cap and got a couple of shots before it began scurrying again. We checked another 50 m of ledge without seeing any and decided to call it a night.

Rich scanning the ground at dusk for nocturnal insects.
Hogna carolinensis (family Lycosidae).
Amblycheila katzi (Trans-Pecos giant tiger beetle).
Amblycheila katzi (Trans-Pecos giant tiger beetle).
Selenops actophilus, one of the so-called “flatties.”

Day 6 – Comstock (prologue)
The owner of the motel in which we stayed was super friendly and kind enough to leave a key in the door for our very late arrival last night. Settling up this morning, I saw this on the wall (right next to his vaccination card—two doses) and just had to get a pic. He was only too happy to oblige when I told him how awesome it was and could I get a picture. Hey, no reason to reveal true political leanings if it means we can all just get along.

Trump Lost LOL!
Illegal tender.

Amistad National Recreation Area, Spur 406 Campground
A quick stop here on the way to meet up with Dan, Brian, and Ed near Devil’s River. There were lots of dead and dying Acacia constricta (whitethorn acacias), off of which I beat a diversity of cerambycids and buprestids from both the dead and dying branches. I found one small sapling of the same with evidence of fresh woodboring beetle larval feeding, so I collected it as well for rearing. Other than that I just collected a few weevils off of living Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) for weevil-specialist Bob Anderson.

Apiomerus spissipes, one of the bee assassins, in flower of Opuntia engelmannii (Engelmann’s pricklypear)

Devils River near Dry Devils River
We met up with Dan, Brian, and Ed north of Del Rio and, after exchanging peasantries, followed them into a private resort surrounding a stretch of the Devils River*—considered by some to be the most unspoiled river in Texas. Dan had arranged for access after befriending Dave Barker, a commercial herpetologist who had built a home on property overlooking the Devils River and also a guest cabin on property overlooking nearby Gold Mine Canyon. We met up at the cabin and then carpooled to a spot along the Devils River where Dan and Brian had placed a variety of traps that needed servicing. While they took care of that, Rich, Ed, and I collected in the area around where the traps had been placed. I started off beating dead branches of Vachellia farnesiana (huisache), sweeping blooming Salvia sp. (sage), and beating dead branches of Acacia rigidula (blackbrush acacia) down by the river but collected only a smattering of beetles. I then clambered up the rocks and found good numbers of Acmaeodera spp. visiting flowers of Echinocereus enneacanthus (strawberry cactus) and Opuntia engelmannii (Engelmann’s pricklypear). After collecting my fill of those beetles, I returned to the riverbanks and noticed some large Carya illinoensis (pecan), from which I beat a few Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) sp. (hoping they are one of the recently described taxa). By then, Dan and Brian had finished servicing their traps and gave me a few specimens that had been collected in their ethanol-baited Lingren funnel trap.

* The accepted usage of the name is without an apostrophe, although the reason for this is a matter of debate.

Dan (right) and Brian service a malaise trap.
Echinocereus enneacanthus (strawberry cactus).

After finishing along the Devils River, Dave invited us to his home for a few post-collecting beers. Spectacular views overlooking the river.

The author (left) with (L-R): Dan Heffern, Brian Raber, Dave Barker, Rich Thoma, and Ed Riley.

Gold Mine Canyon
We setup a variety of light stations at Dave’s cabin a little east of the river. It was warm and dry, so conditions were good, if a bit windy. My two ultraviolet light stations a bit north of the cabin ended up catching the lion’s share of cerambycids, although it was mostly elaphidiines and a Lepturges sp. We also picked up a few tenebrionids and a Carabidae crawling on the ground near the lights. Ed’s mercury vapor/ ultraviolet station on the road west of the cabin attracted a few more cerambycids, including a Lagocheirus sp. Dan, however, got the catch of the night—a Goes that came to Dan’s $6 battery-powered lantern on the road south of Ed’s station. We at first thought it might be G. novus, but that Dan later decided it was just a very lightly marked G. tesselatus. Zephyranthes chlorosolen (Brazos rain lily) blossoms were beautiful at night, their stark whiteness catching the beam of the headlamp.

Zephyranthes chlorosolen (Brazos rain lily).

Day 7 – Gold Mine Canyon
Rich and I spent the morning walking the grounds around Dave’s cabin while the others packed up and got ready to leave. I found some oak (Quercus vasseyana) saplings infested with cerambycid larvae, which I cut and bundled to bring back for rearing. Acmaeodera were already coming to the flowers—a couple of small ones on an undetermined white composite, three different species on Opuntia engelmannii (Engelmann’s pricklypear) and Echinocereus enneacanthus (strawberry cactus) flowers, and a couple on Coreopsis? flowers. I beat some of the Diospyros texana (Texas persimmon) looking for Spectralia robusta but did not find any. It got hotter than blazes real quick!

Opuntia engelmannii (Engelmann’s pricklypear).

After Dan, Brian, and Ed left, Rich and I went down to the canyon entrance to beat on the oaks and Texas persimmons that dot the sides of the canyon. Nothing was on either plant, however, and I ended up again concentrating on the diversity of Acmaeodera that were coming to flowers of Coreopsis sp., Opuntia engelmannii, and an unidentified yellow composite. I did beat a single Cleridae off a dead branch of mesquite.

Gold Mine Canyon.

Devils River near Dry Devils River
After finishing at Gold Mine Canyon, we came back to the Devils River crossing near the first stop we made here for our final stop of the day. Temperatures had maxed out at 99°F! and I wasn’t too motivated to collect much more today, but when we arrived at the spot I noticed some declining Platanus occidentalis (American sycamore) with large emergence holes suggestive of Mallodon dasystomus and old fallen branches with the same suggestive of Polycesta elata. The tree with the Mallodon holes was much too large to cut (and embedded within a thicket of poison ivy), so I occupied myself by collecting a few more Acmaeodera off of Opuntia engelmannii flowers. As I walked the roadway I noticed more sycamore with some smaller trees in the grove that looked recently dead. One was dead from about three feet up and had buprestid workings under loose, peeling bark. I cut just above the live portion (3–4” diameter) and took three 4-ft sections of the trunk above that point, each cut showing internal galleries. If P. elata emerges from these pieces of wood I will be “elated” [Later edit: I did rear the species!].

Devils River crossing.
The water was too deep for my Ford Escape.
Next time I’ll have a higher-clearance vehicle.

Gold Mine Canyon
For blacklighting tonight we decided to bring the lights down to the mouth of the canyon where we collected this afternoon so we could have acces to anything associated with the oaks. Unfortunately it was a much slower night than last night and cooled off quickly despite the high heat earlier in the day. I only got three cerambycids (one Ecyrus and two Aneflomorpha) and a few clerids at the lights. I also walked the jeep track leading to the mouth of the canyon and the main road outside and didn’t see anything until I almost got back, when I noticed a beetle sitting on the trail that looked a bit odd. When I picked it up I realized it was a buprestid in the genus Melanophila—what the heck?! Totally unexpected to see this beetle at night and especially on the ground instead of on a tree. I suppose it is one of the juniper-feeding species (since pine doesn’t occur here).

Sinking sun over Gold Mine Canyon.

Juniper cadaver in late-evening light.

Day 8 – Gold Mine Canyon
Our plan today was to head over to some spots further west in Val Verde Co., but before leaving the cabin we did a bit of walking around and took a last few photographs.

Gold Mine Canyon in the morning.
Epithelantha micromeris (button cactus).

22 mi N Del Rio
I had noted a few scattered plants of Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna) at this spot a couple of days ago when meeting up with Dan but didn’t have the chance to sample them for Agrilus obtusus—one of my target species for the trip. I found one on the second plant I checked, so I went back to the truck to get my big camera hoping to photograph one in situ. I didn’t see anything on the next plant, but when I tapped it over my net there was another one! I did that for the next hour or so—inspecting and tapping—and never saw another one. Rich did get one sweeping the S. roemeriana (in an area I’d already worked) and was gracious enough to give it to me. There were also tiny bruchids and clerids on the plant. Other than that I got a couple of Acmaeodera mixta sweeping, a couple of Canthon sp. in flight, and a Euphoria kerni on the flower of Zephyranthes chlorosolen.

Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna).

Hwy 90 at Del Rio River
I first visited this spot nearby 30 years ago based on a tip by Dan Heffern, who had reared a Polycesta elata from Fraxinus greggii (Gregg ash). I found the ash on that visit, though I didn’t find any wood infested with that species here, but what I did find was Diospyros texana (Texas persimmon) infested with Spectralia robusta and managed to rear out a few individuals. That was my quarry today, but when I arrived the abandoned road on the northwest side of the bridge was fenced and posted. I took a look on the southwest side and found open access up top and decided to hike down towards the ravine from that point. Things seems to be about as far along here as they were at Devils River, with not much activity except for Acmaeodera coming to the Opuntia engelmannii flowers, albeit not quite the diversity. I found a few more also on flowers of an undetermined yellow composite, Coreposis sp., and an undetermined white composite. Closer towards the ravine I found just a single large F. microphylla (with no signs of infestation) and several D. texana—two of which had the half-live/half-dead branches in which S. robusta larvae live and showing the emergence holes of adults. I collected both branches and will bring them back for rearing.

Hwy 90 bridge over Pecos River.
Adult emergence hole of Spectralia robusta in live/dead trunk of Diospyros texana (Texas persimmon).

Amistad National Recreation Area, Pecos River Access Nature Trail
Just a quick stop at the Pecos River Access on the east side to walk the short nature trail and gaze at the 300-ft high, 100 million-year-old (Cretaceous Period) limestone bluffs that the Pecos River has cut near the junction with the Rio Grande River (the latter can be seen on the left side of photo 2). The first photo also shows the old road that was originally used to cross the river snaking down the west bluff—traffic today uses the tall bridge in the right side of the photo.

Limestone bluffs over the Pecos River
Pecos River junction with the Rio Grande River.
Pecos River Access Nature Trail.

Seminole Canyon State Park, Canyon Rim Trail
We came here looking for oak potentially infested with Spectralia roburella. We didn’t find any oak on this trail, but I did find a Acacia rigidula (blackbrush acacia) showing signs of infestation by buprestid larvae (difficult to find such this year because the freeze in February apparently killed or severely knocked back most of this species). I cut up and bundled the wood to bring back for rearing.

To insects, the collectors’ shadows loom large.

Amistad National Recreation Area, Spur 406 Campground
We got to Seminole Canyon State Park too late to check with the supervisor about setting up our blacklights at the park, so we came back to Spur 406 Campground where we’d collected a few things two days earlier. Temps were okay and there was no moon or wind, but it was still a very slow night—for me just a couple of elaphidiines, two trogids, two Digitinthophagus gazella (why do I continue to pick these things up?), and a bostrichid.

Ready for another night of blacklighting.

Day 9 – Seminole Canyon State Park, Windmill Trail
We came back to the state park since we ran out of time to look for oak yesterday. The park staff were extraordinarily helpful—both in getting me checked in with my permit and in directing me to the spots where I might be able to find oak. Their first tip—along the Window Trail—paid off, where we found a nice cluster of Quercus fusiformis (plateau live oak) clinging to the upper canyon walls. Most of them had dead branches on them, and I did some beating to see if by some chance the beetles would be out already. They were not, but on the second tree that I examined I found a main branch from near the base with the outer 4–6 ft dead but the bark not peeling and small living sprouts about 2 ft from the base. Pulling apart the dead portion revealed buprestid larval workings, likely my quarry—Spectralia roburella, but these could be old. I cut the branch at the base, however, and found fresh larval galleries in the sapwood of the still-living portion even extending into the trunk—success! I’ll bring this back for rearing and will hopefully get S. roburella out of it. Further along the trail I found a single Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna), inspected it carefully and didn’t see anything, then tapped the plant over my beating sheet and a single Agrilus obtusus fell onto it to add to the three that I got yesterday. I really wish I could see these things before I beat them off the plants so I could take an in situ photo!

The Maker of Peace, a bronze sculpture by Texas artist Bill Worrell.
View of Seminole Canyon to the east.
View of Seminole Canyon to the west. The Fate Bell rock shelter is on the right at the bend.
A vulture soars overhead.
Panoramic view of Seminole Canyon.
The author admires a fine stand of Quercus fusiformis (plateau live oak). No oaks were harmed in the making of this photo!😊
My souvenir for the trip!

Seminole Canyon State Park, Canyon Rim Trail
Another place the park staff recommended to find oaks was along the Canyon Rim Trail. We hiked that trail yesterday for a bit and didn’t see any oaks, but it turns out they were farther down the trail then we went. We headed back out on the trail to find them, along the way checking Opuntia engelmannii flowers for Acmaeodera and seeing only one for the time being. Just past the first of two east-facing ravines where we expected to find oaks, we found one on the canyon edge that looked rather bedraggled. There were some completely dead branches with bark already sloughed but also one large fresher-looking dead branch that had one live branchlet coming out of it about a third of the way up (meaning there was at least a strip of live wood within the branch). I broke of one of the dead branches near the live/dead junction, and there in its gallery was a smallish buprestid larva that almost certainly is Spectralia roburella! I took the entire branch and cut it up to bring back for rearing. We continued hiking along the canyon rim and saw the most amazing views—sheer Cretaceous limestone walls towering 300 feet above the narrow canyon bottoms! Farther down the trail we finally started seeing Acmaeodera on O. engelmannii flowers. By then we’d hiked more than a mile and a half down the trail and temps were beginning to soar, so we turned back, picked up the wood we’d cut as we came back by, and finished the long, hot slog back to the truck.

A mirid bug (Oncerometopus sp.) on flower of Viguiera dentata.
View of cave dwelling area.
Top of a Canyon!
Seminole Canyon stretches from one side to the other.
Seminole Canyon walls.

Comstock
As Rich and I were lunching after our last stop, I got a text from Ed Riley about a spot near Comstock where he’d collected what he believed to be Acmaeodera starrae—a species I’ve never encountered. It just so happened that we would be passing by Comstock on our way back east this afternoon, so we stopped to see if we could find it. Bingo—right where and in the flowers he said it would be (an undetermined white composite that I later determined to be Aphanostephus ramosissimus [lazy daisy]). Together we found about 15 specimens, and interestingly about 25% have red rather than yellow elytra markings. [EDIT: I’m not convinced these are A. starrae, but I do not yet know what they are.]

Aphanostephus ramosissimus (lazy daisy).
Aphanostephus ramosissimus (lazy daisy).

Day 10 – Garner State Park, Wild Horse Creek/Highway/Campos Trails
It’s the final day of collecting for the trip, and for our last stop we picked Garner State Park along the Frío River. I was last here back in the mid 90s—nearly 30 years ago, Acmaeodera ornatoides and Polycesta elata being the two species of note that I remember finding. I remember during that first visit that the area reminded me of my beloved Ozark Mountains, especially the White River Hills region in southwestern Missouri—scraggly forests of oak and juniper on steep, rocky slopes over craggy hill and lazy dale. It still does, although the species are a bit different—Juniperus ashei (Ashe juniper) dominates instead of J. virginiana (eastern red-cedar), and a variety of other oaks replace the familiar Ozarkian Quercus stellata and Q. marilandica (post and blackjack oaks, respectively). We hiked a series of trails on the western side of the park, thinking the west-facing slopes would tend to be drier and result in more open, glade-like habitats, and for the most part this was true. Almost immediately after reaching the first glade along Wild Horse Creek Trail, we found A. ornatoides and at least two smaller congeners on flowers of Coreopsis sp. Flowers of Viguiera dentata have been uncharacteristically depauperate of buprestids on this trip, but I picked up a couple of Acmaeodera neglecta/neoneglecta nearby as well. On the Highway Trail a good series of Acmaeodera was found on flowers of an undetermined small white composite, and a few were also found on flowers of Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna)—though no Agrilus obtusus. The Campos Trail ascended steeply and ruggedly to a nice overlook, where I found one Acmaeodera sp. on the flower of Zephyranthes chlorosolen and then the mother-load—the biggest diversity and abundance of Acmaeodera I’ve ever seen on cactus flowers occurred nearby in a single flowering Opuntia engelmannii. The final specimen of the day’s “Acmaeodera-a-thon” was taken a bit further up the trail on the flower of Echinocereus enneacanthus (strawberry cactus). Fortunately, the trail was all downhill from there (albeit a bit too steep and rocky at times for these no-longer-nimble legs!). We finished off the hike back along the Wild Horse Creek Trail by collecting a branch off a fallen oak that I hope proves fruitful in the rearing box back home and had some lunch. As we were getting ready to leave, I noticed most of the trees in the camping area were Carya illinoensis (pecans)—a great host for buprestids (especially Xenorhipis brendeli), so I picked up several fallen branches from under the trees to complete the wood collecting portion of the trip.

Acmaeodera ornatoides on flower of Coreopsis sp.
Overlook from atop the Campos Trail.
Xeric limestone prairie (glade) habitat.
Echinocereus enneacanthus (strawberry cactus).
Echinocereus enneacanthus (strawberry cactus).

Garner State Park, Brazos River (epilogue)
We visited the nearby Frio River for one last look at the park, took a shower, and settled in for the 15-hour trek back to St. Louis.

Brazos River at Garner Stare Park, Texas.

Postscript!

Somewhere near Rising Star, Texas.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2021

The Loess Hills in Missouri

The term Mountains in Miniature is the most expressive one to describe these bluffs. They have all the irregularity in shape, and in valleys that mountains have, they have no rocks and rarely timber. – Thaddeus Culbertson, missionary, 1852


One of the things I enjoy most about the natural history of Missouri is its diversity. Lying in the middle of the North American continent, it is here where the eastern deciduous forest yields to the western grasslands. Coinciding with this transition between two great biomes is a complex intersection of landforms – the northern plains, recently scoured by glaciers; the southeastern lowlands, where the great Mississippi River embayment reaches its northern extent; the Ozark Highlands, whose craggy old rocks comprise the only major landform elevation between the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains; and the eastern realm of the vast Great Plains. This nexus of east and west, of north and south, of lowlands and highlands, has given rise to a rich diversity of natural communities – 85 in all according to Paul Nelson (2005, Terrestrial Natural Communities of Missouri). Despite the overwhelming changes wrought upon Missouri’s landscape during the past 200 years, passable examples of most of these communities still exist in many parts of the state and provide a glimpse of Missouri’s rich natural heritage.

Last month I talked about the critically imperiled sand prairie community in extreme southeast Missouri. This month, we travel 500 miles to the distant northwestern corner of the state to visit another critically imperiled community – the dry loess prairie. These communities are confined to thin slivers of bluff top along the Missouri River in Atchison and Holt Counties. The bluffs on which they lie are themselves part of a unique landform called the Loess Hills. Like the sand prairies of the southeastern lowlands, this angular landscape owes its birth to the glacial advances of the Pleistocene epoch (2.5 million to 10,000 years ago), when streams of meltwater – swollen and heavily laden with finely ground sediments (i.e., glacial “flour”) – filled river valleys throughout the Midwest during Pleistocene summers. Brutal cold during winter reduced these flows to a trickle, allowing the prevailing westerly winds to pick up the sediments, left high and dry, and drop them on leeward upland surfaces across Iowa and northern Missouri. The thickest deposits occurred along the abrupt eastern border of the Missouri River valley – at least 60 feet deep, and in places up to 200 feet. Loess (pronounced “luss”) is a homogeneous, fine-grained, quartz silt – undisturbed it is highly cohesive and able to stand in near vertical bluffs. It is also extremely prone to erosion, and as a result for 10,000 years now the forces of water have reshaped the Loess Hills into the landform we see today. Loess itself is not rare – thick deposits can be found in many parts of the world and over thousands of square miles across the Midwest. It is here, however, along the western edge of Iowa and northern Missouri – and nowhere else in North America – where loess deposits are deep enough and extensive enough to obliterate any influence by the underlying bedrock and dictate the form of the landscape.

It is this form that makes the Loess Hills so unique. The depth of the soil, its cohesiveness, its natural tendency to slump on steep slopes and sheer in vertical planes, and the action of water over the past several millenia have created a landscape of narrow undulating ridges flanked by steep slopes and numerous side spurs, intricate drainages with sharply cut gullies, and long, narrow terraces called “catsteps” cutting across the steep upper hillsides. It’s a sharp, angular, corrugated landscape, stretching 200 miles north and south in a narrow band of varying width from north of Souix City, Iowa, to its southern terminus in northwestern Missouri. Its western boundary is sharply delimited by the Missouri River valley, where lateral erosion (now halted by channelization of the river) and vertical sheering have created precipitous bluff faces. The eastern boundary is harder to delimit and is dependent upon the thickness of the loess. Deposits that fall below 60 feet in depth are unable to mask and reshape the rolling terrain of the eroded glacial till lying beneath. In general, this happens at distances of only 3 to 10 miles from the western edge of the landform.

Its southern terminus in Missouri, however, is the most arbitrary boundary. Discontinuous patches of deep loess terrain do occur as far south as Kansas City, but the dry hilltop prairies, common in the north, are gradually replaced by woodland in the south and disappear completely just north of St. Joseph. It is this interdigitation of two great biomes – the great deciduous forest to the east, and the expansive grasslands stretching far to the west – that give the Loess Hills such a fascinating natural history. This is due as much to the physical character of the Loess Hills themselves as to their ecotonal position at the center of the continent. Rapid drainage of rainwater off the steep slopes combines with direct sun and prevailing southwesterly summer winds to create very dry conditions on hilltops and south and west facing slopes, especially on the steeper slopes along the landform’s western edge. Such xeric conditions favor the growth of more drought-tolerant species derived from the western grasslands. North and east facing slopes and valley floors, protected from direct sun and drying winds, are able to retain more moisture, favoring the growth of woody plant species more common in the eastern forests. Seasonal moisture also shows a north-south gradient, with southern latitudes receiving higher annual rainfall totals that also favors the growth of woody plants, while the lower rainfall totals further north result in larger, more expansive grassland habitats. The steep slopes and rapid drainage create much more xeric conditions than those found further south in the flat to rolling terrain of the unglaciated Osage Plain, resulting in a more drought-tolerant mixed-grass prairie rather than the tallgrass prairie of western and southwestern Missouri. The distribution patterns of prairie versus woodland are dynamic and ever-changing, influenced by both natural and anthropogenic processes. Climatic conditions over much of the Loess Hills are capable of supporting either community type, both of which repeatedly expand and shrink as the balance tips in favor of one versus the other. In the past, the major influence was shifting periods of greater or lesser rainfall. During drier periods, grasslands expanded and woodlands shrank, finding refuge in only the moistest streamside habitats. Wetter periods allowed woody plants to migrate out of the valleys and up the slopes, especially those facing north and east. One particular very dry “hypsithermal” began about 9,000 years ago and lasted for several thousand years. Tallgrass prairies expanded as far east as present day Ohio, and todays tallgrass praires in the eastern Great Plains were invaded by even more drought-tolerant species from the shortgrass prairies further west. Eventually the hypsithermal abated, moisture levels increased, and the grasslands retreated in the face of the advanding forest. Not all of the drought-tolerant species were driven back, however, and scattered populations of these “hypsithermal relicts” still remain on locally dry sites far to the east of their normal range of distribution. Conspicuous examples of such in Missouri’s Loess Hills are soapweed yucca (Yucca glauca var. glauca) and the leafless-appearing skeletonweed (Lygodesmia juncea) (plant above, flower right). Both of these plants are normally found further west in the mixed grass prairies of the western Great Plains but are considered endangered in Missouri due to the great rarity of the dry loess prairies on which their survival depends. (Incidentally, note the crab spider legs extending from behind the petals of the skeletonweed flower). In total, more than a dozen plant species occurring in Missouri’s dry loess prairies are listed as species of conservation concern, along with one reptile (Great Plains skink) and one mammal (Plains pocket mouse).

As is typical, the insect fauna of the Loess Hills has been far less studied than its plants, but many of the species that have been documented in its prairies also show affinity to the Great Plains fauna. Both soapweed and skeletonweed have insect associates that rely exclusively on these hosts for reproduction, and as a result they are also highly restricted in Missouri. Evidence of one of these – a tiny cynipid wasp (Anistrophus pisum) that forms small spherical galls on the stems of skeletonweed – can be seen in the photo above. However, my purpose for visiting the Loess Hills this summer was to look for the rare and possibly endangered tiger beetle, Cicindela celeripes (see this post). Cicindela celeripes has not yet been recorded from Missouri but is known to occur in the Loess Hills of southwestern Iowa, and while I have not succeeded in finding it (yet!) I did observe several adults of this unusual May beetle species, Phyllophaga lanceolata. This May beetle occurs throughout the Great Plains in shortgrass prairie communities. Larvae feed in the soil on roots of grasses and other plants, while adults feed above ground on flowers and foliage. The heavy-bodied adults are unusual in the genus due to their conspicuous covering of scales (most species of Phyllophaga are glabrous or with sparsely scattered and indistinct setae) and by being active during the day. They are also relatively poorer fliers and are thus usually observed moving about on foot – as seen with this individual who was found on bare soil below a vertical cut. This snakeweed grasshopper (Hesperotettix viridis, ID by Eric R. Eaton) is another species more typically seen in the western United States, although populations have been found from across the continent. Preferred host plants include a variety of asteraceous shrubs, but as suggested by the common name snakeweeds (Xanthocephalum spp.) are highly preferred and account for its greater abundance in the west. Populations in northern and eastern portions of its range, which would include northern Missouri, are considered subspecies pratensis, while the more southern and western populations are considered the nominotypical subspecies. Interestingly (and unlike many grasshoppers), this species is considered beneficial by ranchers, since the plants on which it prefers to feed are either poisonous to livestock or offer little nutritional value while competing with more desirable forage plants for soil moisture. While exploring the upper slopes, I encountered sporadic plants of two of Missouri’s more interesting species of milkweed – whorled milkweed (Asclepias verticillata) and green milkweed (Asclepias viridiflora), raising my hopes that I might encounter one of the many Great Plains species of milkweed beetles (genus Tetraopes). However, the only species I observed was the common milkweed beetle, Tetraopes tetrophthalmus, which occurs broadly across eastern North America on the equally broadly distributed common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca).

It is a familiar refrain, but Missouri’s dry loess hill prairie communities are critically endangered. Historically, these communities were probably never as well developed as those further north, and only a few small remnants remain today due to significant woody encroachment following decades of fire suppression. Much of this encroachment has occurred in the past 50 years – Heinman (Woody Plant Invasion of the Loess Hill Bluff Prairies. M. A. Thesis, University of Nebraska at Omaha, 1982) used aerial photographs to show a 66 percent encroachment of shrubs and trees into the loess hill mixed-grass prairies between 1940 and 1981. Additional threats include overgrazing, erosion, invasion by exotic plant species and homesite development. Fewer than 50 acres of native dry loess hill prairie remain in Missouri – only half of which are now in conservation ownership. The majority of these can be found at Star School Hill Praire and Brickyard Hill Conservation Areas in Atchison County and at McCormack Conservation Area just to the south in Holt County. Controlled burning and selective cutting are being used at these sites to control woody plant invasions, but even these management techniques present challenges. Spring burns have been shown to promote the growth of big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), which could allow it to encroach drier areas where mid-grasses such as little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium) and sideoats grama (Bouteloua curtipendula) typically dominate (Rushin 2005). Increases in tall grasses could shade out and eliminate some of the rarer low-growing forbs such as downy painted cup (Castilleja sessiliflora), locoweed (Oxytropis lambertii) and low milkvetch (Astragalus lotiflorus). Fall or winter burns may be more beneficial to forbs because the plants are allowed to complete flowering and seed set, but the steep slopes on which these communities occur make erosion a potential concern. Clearly, all factors must be considered when designing management plans for this rare and significant slice of Missouri’s natural heritage.


In addition to the links and references provided above, I highly recommend Fragile Giants: A Natural History of the Loess Hills, by Cornelia F. Mutel (1989). All of the above photographs were taken at Star School Hill Prairie Conservation Area on July 12, 2008. Additional photographs of Loess Hill habitats in extreme southwestern Iowa appeared in my earlier post, The hunt for Cicindela celeripes. The plants shown in photographs 5-7 are purple praire clover (Dalea purpurea), white prairie clover (D. candida), and lead plant (Amorpha canescens), respectively. Lastly, I would like to apologize for the length of this post – a consequence of my inability to temper my utter fascination with the natural world and desire to understand the depths its connectedness.