Welcome to the 17th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the first of two planned insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring during June 4–13. This was another solo trip, and while it was not as long as I’d hoped, I still managed to visit 15 different localities—one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada.
I left Kansas City in the morning with two goals: 1) look for Acmaeodera robigo (family Buprestidae) in Texas Co., Oklahoma (based on a 2011 observation posted to BugGuide), and 2) make it to Black Mesa State Park in the far northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle before sunset (to avoid having to set up camp in the dark). It was a long day of driving (mostly through heavy rain), but by the time I arrived at the A. robigo locality, skies were clear and the area was dry. Texas Co. is the largest (and seemingly flattest!) of the three Oklahoma panhandle counties, but I have not collected in the county previously because most of it has been converted to cultivated wheat. This particular location, however, lies within the Beaver River drainage and, thus, features native shortgrass prairie vegetation.
Beaver River drainage where Acmaeodera robigo was observed in 2011.
The host plant mentioned in the A. robigo observation, Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy—family Asteraceae), was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, so I checked the flowers carefully up one side of the highway and down the other side.
Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy).
Nothing was seen on the flowers, but given the lateness of the hour and cool temps I did not expect to see anything. Still, I set three white bottle traps in the area within patches of M. leucanthemum and will plan on retrieving them up later this season. With luck, the traps will have attracted adults if the species as they visit the nearby flowers.
Bottle trap, antifreeze, and a spade are all that is needed to trap flower-visiting insects.
Moving west I quickly entered Cimarron Co.—I always enjoy seeing this double-line of utility poles stretching to a seemingly endless horizon at the border between Texas and Cimmaron Counties. The latter is not only the westernmost county in the state, it is also the only county in the U.S. that borders four other states (Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, and Kansas).
Entering Cimmaron Co., the westernmost county in Oklahoma.
I made it to Black Mesa State Park with plenty of daylight left to set up camp. Per usual, after getting camp setup I enjoyed “refreshments” and waited for nightfall to walk the roads looking for nocturnal beetles (or any other critters that might be out and about). I did see an Eleodes sp. (darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) early in, but the night was chilly, and the onset of light drizzle put an end to the walk.
Ready for bed!
This would not be the end of my nighttime hiking, however—at 3am I was awakened by the drone of a motor, and it was loud enough that sleep would be impossible. Thinking it was an inconsiderate camper down at the RV campground, I decided to investigate and discovered it was a water pump within the campground. I decided if I couldn’t sleep, then somebody else would also have to be awakened, namely the campground host. It took the elderly woman a few minutes to come to the door after I rapped a few times on her RV, and I apologized for waking her before explaining the situation. She said she wouldn’t know anything about how to turn it off, to which I replied that I didn’t expect her to know that but I’ll bet somebody does and maybe she could make a call and figure out who that is or this wouldn’t be the last time somebody wakes her at 3am. I figured that would be the last of it, that I’d be awake until morning, and that I would have another nine hours of driving the next day on only three hours of sleep. But, to my relief, about a half hour later a park maintenance vehicle pulled up to the pump house, and a young man turned the motor off (I thanked him profusely). I did eventually get back to sleep and awoke to birdsong and clearing skies.
Day 2
There is a low water bridge at the south entrance to the park that crosses a normally dry creek. However, this time the creek was filled with water with lush growth of sedges and grasses along the water’s edge. This is a perfect situation for Taphrocerus species (family Buprestidae), and at this literal transition point from the eastern to the western fauna I’m not sure what species I might encounter there. Unfortunately, thorough sweeping of the sedges produced no beetles, so the question will for now remain unanswered.
Creek at south entrance to Black Mesa State Park, Oklahoma.
Heading south and then west from the park takes you shortly into the northeastern reaches of New Mexico and the town of Clayton. Whenever I pass through Clayton I like to stop at Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill for a bag of freshly ground coffee.
Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill, Clayton, New Mexico.
Skimming across the northern reaches of New Mexico for the next several hours was uneventful with no indication of a repeat of the heavy rain that pounded me for much of my drive yesterday across Kansas and Oklahoma. The situation changed, however, as I crossed the Continental Divide on the approach to Farmington.
I think I’m going to get wet.
I’m sure I’m going to get wet.
Sure enough, I once again had the pleasure of driving through driving rain. In addition, I arrived at my next planned spot just north of town (Brown Springs Campground) to find the entrance and main road under several inches of water. No point in trying to collect there, so I continued on towards the next stop (Devils Canyon Campground) in southeast Utah (San Juan Co.) in hopes of arriving early enough to set up camp before dark. Things looked promising as I crossed through the southwestern corner of Colorado towards Monticello, Utah, as patchy clouds filled a sun-filled sky.
Near Dove Creek, Colorado.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
By the time I reached the campground, however, the rain had returned—not hard, but steady. I didn’t relish the thought of setting up camp in the rain and did something I almost never do—heading back into town and spending the night in a motel! At least I was able to enjoy a burger cooked by someone else for a change.
Day 3
Day 3 started off gray and overcast with the threat of more rain, but looking at radar and the areas I was going further west had me optimistic that I would get out of the rain once and for all. My ultimate stop for the day would be Jacob Lake Campground in north-central Arizona (Cocconino Co.), and my plan was to stop at a number of places along the way. Devils Canyon Campground itself, however, was still under clouds, meaning that collecting there would likely not be very productive. Nevertheless, despite last night’s rainout and the continuing cool, wet conditions, I decided to place some traps that I could pick up later in the season and, thus, get at least a sample of the area’s beetle fauna.
Devils Canyon Campground, Utah.
The campground lies at ~7000 ft, and I found a ridge with ponderosa pine/gamble oak forest on the slope to one side and pinyon/juniper/oak woodland on the crest of the ridge to the other. On the ponderosa side I set a white bottle trap, and on the pinyon/juniper side I set a sweet red wine-baited jug trap. There wasn’t much in bloom at the time other than a few yellow composites and the occasional Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose—family Onagraceae) with blossoms still wide open despite the daylight hour due to the overcast, cool conditions.
Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose).
Coming down off the plateau towards Bluff, Utah, thick low clouds gave way to higher broken clouds with warmer temps (mid-60s). I stopped a few miles west of town at a location where Mont Cazier once collected what was later described as Agrilus utahensis (family Buprestidae) and began sweeping roadside vegetation. While I was sweeping, I encountered three Amannus vittiger (family Cerambycidae) on the flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow—family Malvaceae) (along with a few meloids and bees for others). The record of A. utahensis was from quite a bit later in the season (late July), so I didn’t really expect to find it (although I was hopeful). However, I did sweep what appears to be Agrilus malvastri.
Amannus vittiger collected on flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
A short distance west of the stop had me entering northeastern Arizona, and traveling west of Dennehotso on Hwy 160 I encountered patchy, low lying clouds though which beams of bright sunlight lit up the red rocks below and cast a reddish hue on the bottoms of the clouds.
West of Dennehotso, Arizona on Hwy 160.
A bit further west on Hwy 160 is a formation apparently known as “Baby Rocks.”
Baby Rocks, west of Dennehotso, Arizona,
As I drove, I kept my eye out for areas along the highway with stands of plants in bloom, and I found just such at a roadcut on Hwy 98 near mm 325 as I approached Page, Arizona (Cocconino Co.). There was a fair amount of Sphaeralcea coccinea in bloom, off which I collected a handful of Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata and one Amannus vittiger from the flowers. I swept the grasses and other roadside vegetation thoroughly, but that produced nothing. I returned my attention to the Sphaeralcea and swept it thoroughly as well to be sure I didn’t miss anything. Good thin I did, as that turned up one more each of A. p. lanata and A. vittiger as well as a few Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata on flower of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
After passing through Page, Arizona, rather than continuing straight west to Jacob Lake Campground, I veered north into Kane Co., Utah to revisit a locality I’d visited a couple of years ago about 23 mi northwest of Page on Hwy 89. The last time I stopped here (late June 2023), I found a few Nanularia brunneata (family Buprestidae) on the stems of Eriogonum inflatum (desert trumpet—family Polygonaceae). That visit was about three weeks later in the season than this time, and not only was the area dry (despite all the rain east of here), but there was very little new growth on any of the E. inflatum plants—just the dried stalks of last year’s growth. Still, there was fresh growth present at the spot, in the form of Ericameria nauseosa (gray rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae), on which I collected a single cryptocephaline leaf beetle, and along the roadside rain shadow in the form of Sphaeralcea parvifolia (small-leaved globemallow), on the flowers of which I collected several more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri. Eventually, I did find a single E. inflatum plant with small sprouts of new growth on which I found several clytrine leaf beetles. Sweeping the S. parvifolia produced one more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, a single Acmaeodera navajoi—a species I collected here abundantly two years earlier, and a series of a very small chrysomelid leaf beetle species that I observed feeding on the foliage.
Once I got a bit further west, the landscape turned green again, indicating recent rains, so I checked iNaturalist for nearby records of E. inflatum that I could check for N. brunnea. There was one a few miles east of Kanab (Kane Co.) and on the way to Jacob Lake Campground, so I stopped by to see if I could find the plants. Unfortunately, the record turned out to be on private property, so I couldn’t go to the precise location. I looked around the area outside the property but didn’t see any plants; however, S. parviflora was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, and sweeping it produced a few more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri and a couple of small bees (for Mike).
11 mi E of Kanab, Utah.
There were also several blooming Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear—family Cactaceae), which I checked for Acmaeodera, but I found only one large bee (again, for Mike). With the sun by then dropping close to the horizon, I called it a day and headed for the campground.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—pink-flowered form.
I arrived at Jacob Lake Campground (Cocconino Co., Arizona) and got camp setup before dark, which settled in as I was cooking dinner. It was chilly at this relatively high elevation (7900 ft)—temps were already in the mid-50s and were forecast to drop down into the 40s by morning. Despite the chill, I found a Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) and a smaller tenebrionid on a cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Zopherus uteanus on cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Later, I walked the site—not really expecting to see much because of the chill, but I did find three Iphthiminus lewisii (family Tenebrionidae) on the trunk of a recently fallen P. ponderosa and saw two more on a pine stump.
Iphthiminus lewisii on trunk of recently fallen Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
With three days of travel—the first two mostly rainy and today dry but still quite cool, I’m hoping the forecasted warmer, sunnier conditions for tomorrow and onward come true and I can get this collecting trip in high gear.
A waxing gibbous moon illuminates my camp at 7900’ in Jacob Lake Campground, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Day 4
After morning coffee (and moving to a different campsite—long story!), I went back north a bit to the area near Lefevre Overlook that had been only lightly impacted by the widespread burns that occurred here a few years ago and is showing signs of recovery. It felt “early season” with patchy clouds, moderate temps in the low of mid 70s, and plenty of moisture in the soil with lots of plants in bloom. Insects were not abundant, but with continued beating I collected a couple of Anthaxia sp. (family Buprestidae) and a variety of small clytrines, cryptocepahlines, and curculionids off of Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose—family Rosaceae) in flower.
Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose).
As the morning warmed, insects seemed to become a bit more active, although the day continued to feel “early season.” Persistent visual searches and beating of a variety of plants turned up a few small black/yellow Pidonia? (family Cerambycidae), one Acmaeodera diffusa?, and one Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fine-leaved hymenopappus—family Asteraceae); one Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, another Pidonia?, and one A. diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua (desert globemallow); several small clytrine and cryptocephaline leaf beetles and curculionid weevils on Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak—family Fagaceae); and several A. diffusa? and a few Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Tetraneuris acaulis (four-nerve daisy—family Asteraceae). Sweeping through the area where the T. acaulis was growing produced nothing further of interest, so I placed a sweet red wine-baited jug trap and a yellow bottle trap in the area—hopefully they will each attract a variety of interesting beetles over the next few months.
Sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in a tree and a yellow bottle trap sunk into the ground below.
A bit further down, the mountain escaped the fire that ravaged many other parts of the mountain. I expected to see much more insect activity, but the opposite instead was the case. This may be related to the lower incidence and diversity of flowering plants, which were likely triggered at the previous spot by the fire. I did find a small area where Sphaeralcea ambigua was blooming abundantly and sweeping through them produced a fine series of Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri along with a few bees (for Mike). I walked up the slope a ways, but there was virtually nothing in bloom—unlike what I had seen at the previous spot. Eventually, I did find a few Hymenopappus filifolia and Tetraneuris acaulis, but the only I beetle I saw on any of them was a single Acmaeodera diffusa? on the latter.
Escobaria vivipara (viviparous foxtail cactus).
Without anything luring me further up the slope, I worked my way back down towards the car and was about ready to call it a day when I decided to take a gander a bit down the slope—just in case I might see something of interest. Nothing captured my attention, however, so I worked my way over a bit to take a different route back. That’s when I saw it! All day long I had been keeping my eye out for large Utah junipers (Juniperus osteosperma—family Cupressaceae) with thigh-sized main limbs—one of which was dying (not dead), possibly a result of woodboring beetles, and before me was just such a tree!
Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) with dying main limb.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
Large oval emergence hole caused by a species of longhorned beetle.
Fresh frass packed in the galleries by longhorned beetle larvae.
I hiked back to the car to get my chainsaw—brought along on the trip just for such an eventuality—and cut a portion of the infested limb out of the tree so I could bring it home and attempt to rear out the adults. My hope is that the species infesting the tree is Semanotus juniperi (family Cerambycidae), a very uncommonly encountered longhorned beetle that breeds in the large limbs of juniper in this area, so I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed. Hauling out the infested bolt along with the chainsaw was a struggle, but eventually I made it back to the car and celebrated a successful last act to what had up to that point been a not too spectacular first full day in the field.
Bolt of Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) infested with longhorned beetles.
I needed a break after working the chainsaw and hauling out the wood, so I went back to the campsite to enjoy an end-of-the-day “beverage” and eventually dinner. However, part of me was thinking Inshould have collected more of that infested juniper to increase my odds of successfully rearing whatever was infesting it, so I resolved to do exactly that in the morning.
Dinner on the grill at Jacob Lake Campground.
Before dinner as I was gathering kindling, I had noticed a large, fallen ponderosa pine behind the campsite and returned after dark to see if there might be any nocturnal beetles attracted to it. It seemed recently dead, but as I inspected the upper branches more closely I saw that it had been dead long enough that whatever would have been attracted to it had already come and gone. I thought maybe I could find beetles under the bark and began peeling the bark in the trunk. The bark was still intact but was just loose enough that I could peel it off in large sheets. Doing so, however, revealed only a couple of click beetles (family Elateridae). I didn’t see any other fallen or dead trees in the area, but on the trunks of large living ponderosa pines I found a tenebrionoid and several individuals of a Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle (family Boridae). [Edit: thanks to Alex Harmen for the identification on this one!] Nearby was a cut stump of a very large ponderosa pine, and peeling back the thick bark at the base of the stump revealed yet another elaterid species and two darkling beetles. I was hoping to find more Zopherus uteanus, but no such luck!
Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 5
After a morning of the coffee ritual and observing campsite wildlife, I made an ice run at the nearby service station.
I was having second thoughts about taking only a single bolt of wood from cerambycid-infested Utah juniper that I found at the end of yesterday’s collecting and decided to go back to get more of the infested wood to improve the likelihood of successfully rearing adults from the wood. It would not be an easy job—I’d have to haul the chainsaw down the the tree, cut off the two remaining infested bolts, cut the bolts down to cartable pieces, and then haul the chainsaw and wood bolts back to the car, likely requiring several trips. It was worth it, however, because as I was stripping bark to see where I needed to make the initial cut, I encountered an intact cadaver of one of the beetles that had died while trying to emerge from the wood. I carefully extracted the abdomen from the tree and found the head and pronotum in the bark and placed them in a vial, and they without a doubt represent the species I was hoping they were—Semanotus juniperi, a super rare species that very few people have ever collected [tip of the hat to Ron Alten for sharing his knowledge about this beetle with me and enabling me to find this beetle for myself!]. I’ll be able to put the beetle back together when I get home, and I’m hopeful I’ll rear at least a small series of beetles from the wood I’ve collected.
I love the smell of chainsaw in the morning!
Having carted the additional bolts of wood back to the car and confident in my ability to recognize the work of this species, I looked for—and found—a few more trees that the beetle had infested. However, in each case the workings were old and no beetles were encountered chopping into the wood. I also spent some time looking for much smaller emergence holes in the thick trunk bark of several junipers and carefully shaving the bark to see if I could find another rare longhorned beetle species, Atimia vandykei. I found several galleries that might have been this species, but no beetles or larvae were encountered, leading me to think I might have been a bit late and the adults have mostly emerged. A large, recently dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) also caught my attention, as it looked fresh enough to still contain wood boring beetles that might have infested it. The wood was very hard and difficult to chop into, but I didn’t encounter any larvae of any kind and elected not to collect a bolt or two for rearing. Lastly, I spent some time looking for dead Gambel oaks, which in this area could host Xylotrechus rainei (family Cerambycidae), a recently described species that few have collected. I found several dead stems of the shrubby oak species that contained workings consistent with those of Xylotrechus, but in each case the workings were old and no beetles or larvae were present. This string of “failures” might have seemed like the makings of a bad day, but the success with S. juniperi overshadowed those failures and I left the site happy (though exhausted!).
The author sports his new field hat (an early Fathers Day gift!).
I returned to the first stop of yesterday to see if I could find junipers in this area infested with S. juniperi, reasoning that since the area had burned a few years ago some of the still-living trees might be stressed, thus making them more vulnerable to infestation. I also wanted to see if the bottle and jug traps I placed yesterday had caught anything of interest (even though it had only been one day). Along the way I picked up a single Anthaxia sp. on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis and a few Acmaeodera diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua. There wasn’t anything of interest in either trap, so I set about looking for infested junipers. I found only one, but again the workings were old and no larvae or adults were encountered. I also examined a few dead stems of Gambel oak, but none showed signs of infestation. (I suspect they had been killed by the fire and the damage to the wood by the fire made the stems unsuitable for infestation.) I did, however, find a small more recently dead Colorado pinyon pine that showed signs of recent infestation all along the trunk and collected it for rearing. By then, the day had warmed considerably and I was already exhausted from the morning’s chainsaw session, leading to a loss of motivation to keep looking. I needed a change of pace and decided to head higher up the mountain back into the ponderosa pine forest for some more “traditional” woodboring beetle collecting.
Callophrys gryneus (juniper hairstreak) on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia (fine-leaved hymenopappus).
The forest at this site is dominated by ponderosa pine, and the strategy here was straightforward—look for large, dead or dying trees, either standing or recently wind-thrown, and inspect the examine the trunks for woodboring beetles. I came to this spot two years ago in early July, so this time was about four weeks earlier in the season. I had two specific targets (beyond woodboring beetles in general)—Chalcophora (family Buprestidae) and Monochamus (family Cerambycidae). Both of these genera are the subject of molecular studies being conducted by other researchers that I know, and I’ve been promising to send them fresh specimens killed and preserved in ethanol. The first wind-thrown tree I encountered was still green-needled, and I expected to find buprestid beetles all over it. Instead, all I saw were a few small Enoclerus sp. (family Cleridae). Large dead standing trees dotted the open forest, and I carefully approached and circled each one looking for beetles, paying special attention to those in full sunlight. Time after time, however, I was frustrated. Each time, I chopped into the wood a bit to examine what was going on underneath the bark, and while workings were plentiful I never encountered any larvae.
4.2 mi N Jacob Lake on Hwy 89A, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Finally, I approached a large standing dead tree, and perched on its trunk in the sunlight was Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer). I’m happy to give this specimen up for DNA sequencing, especially since I already collected a specimen at this same spot two years ago (before the molecular study began).
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
I peeled a good portion of bark of the tree it was perched on but found nothing except a large elaterid larva (I wonder if it was Alaus melanops [western eyed elater], a predator or woodboring beetle larvae).
Alaus melanops (western eyed elater) collected from under bark of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
For a long time afterwards that would remain the only beetle I encountered until I found a large standing tree in the early stages of death (needles pale green but not brown) with a female Dicerca tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) searching the trunk, occasionally stopping to probe a crack or crevice with her ovipositor. Patiently waiting at the trunk rewarded me with a second individual within a short period of time.
Dicerca tenebrosa on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Another long period of nothingness ensued as I zigzagged from dead tree to dead tree, eventually retracing my steps to the only two trees on which I had found buprestids. Even that failed to produce additional beetles, but as I was standing at one of them I heard a woodpecker persistently pecking and searching and pecking on a nearby tree. The tree looked perfectly healthy at first glance, but I figured the woodpecker had to know something that I didn’t (I’m always willing to learn from locals!) and walked over to the tree. It was immense, and a closer look at the crown revealed a few browning needles scattered throughout the crown. Then a closer look at the trunk revealed several of the same small Enoclerus sp. I saw earlier crawling on it. Woodpeckers and checkered beetles don’t lie, and this tree was clearly under stress and under attack by woodboring beetles. An initial circling of the trunk revealed no other beetles, but then I noticed the gangly antennae and legs of a male/female pair of Monochamus clamator, the male apparently mate-guarding the female. I’ll be happy to contribute one of these specimens to my colleague for DNA sequencing and keep the other for my collection.
Monochamus clamator on trunk of stressed Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
By that time, the sun was starting to get rather low in the horizon and I was utterly exhausted after a full day of walking, chopping, chainsawing, and hauling. I passed by the two previously successful trees on the way back to the car, to no avail, and headed back to camp (stopping at the nearby market for a celebratory milkshake before going into the campground).
Caenochrysis sp. (family Chrysididae) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Day 6
The day’s plan was to head north to the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes system in southern Utah, but before I left I decided to go down the east slope of the Kaibab Plateau a bit to see it I could find a good transition zone (one that hadn’t burned) from the higher elevation ponderosa pine forest to the juniper/pinyon woodland just below. A few miles east of Jacob Lake, right as I hit 7000’ (there was even a sign to that effect) while descending into the canyon, I saw a small pulloff with ponderosa pine forest (and even some fir) on the east-facing slope to the right and juniper/pinyon/oak woodland on the west-facing slope to the left—perfect! It struck me as a good-looking spot to set some traps, so I set a blue bottle trap in an open area on the juniper/pinyon/oak side of the highway and hid a sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the woodland right above it. I then started beating the patches of Gamble oak hoping for Brachys (family Buprestidae) but finding only a single Anthaxia sp. and several species of clytrine leaf beetles and curculionid weevils. There was a patch of Sphaeralcea ambigua in flower near the pulloff, off which I collected several Acmaeodera diffusa? plus another of those small black /yellow lepturines (Pidonia? sp.) that I found yesterday, and I swept some chunky black dermestids and a couple of bees (for Mike) from the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia. Next came a long period of nothingness! I found another Utah juniper with damage on the main trunk by Semanotus juniperi, but once again it was old with no larvae or adults encountered after another exhausting chopping session. At this point, I turned my attention to the ponderosa pine forest across the highway, as I’d noticed some large dying/dead trees here and there that I wanted to check for buprestids. Despite checking every dead or declining pine within eyeshot, I didn’t find a single beetle! This, combined with the earlier fruitless chopping session, sapped my motivation, and I started heading back towards the car. Only a few A. diffusa? on the flowers of Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea and Heterotheca hirsutissima (harsh false goldenaster—family Asteraceae) momentarily captured my attention on the way back.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—yellow-flowered form.
As I neared the car, I saw a nicely blooming Purshia stansburyana and beat a nice series of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi from it. I’m not sure if the population in this area is assignable to any of the currently recognized subspecies, so I’ll be interested to study them closer and compare them to other unassignable populations I’ve found in other parts of Utah and Arizona. Right before I reached the car, I saw another juniper that begged “chop me.” I complied and then hated myself for it, as the result was the same as all the other junipers I’ve chopped into since finding that first one with Semanotus juniperi in it. With that, I said goodbye to the Kaibab Plateau and headed north towards Ponderosa Grove Campground near Coral Pink Sand Dunes north of Kanab, Utah.
Clytrine leaf beetle on flower of Purshia stansburyana (Stansbury’s cliffrose).
I reached the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes (Kane Co., Utah) by mid-afternoon. My favorite campground in that area is Ponderosa Grove Campground—it’s large, spacious campsites are not only well shaded by the namesake, unique-for-the-area grove of massive ponderosa pines, but it is also located right across the road from Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area, a BLM-managed area with easy access to the northern portion of the Coral Pink Sand Dunes system (for those who may be asking, this portion of the dune system lies outside the boundaries of Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, which protects the only known habitat of the highly vulnerable Coral Pink Sand Dunes tiger beetle, Cicindela albissima).
After picking a campsite (I was glad to see only a few sites occupied) and unloading my gear, I hightailed it to the dunes with one objective—find Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae). I collected this species before on my previous trip here back in late June of 2023, but I spent a day and a half looking for it and managed to only a small handful of specimens. I thought the earlier timing might be better, but Norm Woodley was here a couple of weeks before and did not see the species, giving me reason to be also skeptical.
Looking across the dunes at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
On the way to the dunes, I set out a yellow bottle trap and sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the sandy juniper/pine woodland bordering the dune. Upon entering the dunes, I immediately started seeing the host plant, Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat—family Polygonaceae), a distinctive plant with a basal rosette of linear leaves and, on some plants, a tall stem bearing the inflorescence. One plant in particular, right at the dune entrance, spoke to me saying “look at me.” I don’t know why, but I went over to it, tapped the basal rosette over my net, and off fell a nice large female C. nelsoni! Well, that was fast. I looked at a couple more plants and saw on a second adult (this one a smaller male) sitting head down at the base of the inflorescence stem—two specimens on the first three plants I looked at!
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on stem base of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
I found quite a few more (although not quite at that same frequency) over the next hour or so before they seemingly just disappeared. I noted the lateness of the hour and wondered if they have a ‘bedtime’—perhaps they burrow into the sand around the base of the plants for the night—and started back towards camp, picking up a few Eleodes caudifera lumbering across the surface of the sand along the way. I decided at that point, now that I had a nice series of the beetle, to bring the “big camera” over the next morning and try to get much nicer photos of the beetles on their host plant that what I can achieve with this iPhone.
Eleodes caudifera lumbers across the sand.
It had been a long day by that point—I was both famished and exhausted and needed a bit of time to rest and refuel. I had brought two salmon filets along with me, which should have been enough for two meals, but I was so ravenously hungry that I cooked and ate both.
Chill time at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
The rest and food gave me a bit of a spark, and as sunset approached I was inspired to set up the blacklights. Conditions were not close to ideal—a waxing gibbous, nearly full moon along with cool(ish) temperatures are usually enough to kill blacklighting. However, it was warmer than the past several nights at Jacob Lake (1300 ft higher elevation), so I compromised by setting up only the two ultraviolet lights (which I can run right off the car batter) but not the mercury-vapor lamp (which would have required hauling out and running the generator).
Not long after I turned the lights on, I noticed the bright, unmistakable glow of a mercury-vapor lamp at the far other end of the campground. I was like “That has to be an entomologist!” so hiked on down to introduce myself. As I entered the campsite, a man approached me and said “Hello, Ted.” Now I’m thinking okay we’ve met before, but I’m a dummy with poor social skills because I don’t recognize him. He said “My name is Mike.” The omission of his last name had me doubly thinking that I was an idiot because the mention of his name still wasn’t enough to trigger my memory of his last name or who he even was. When I asked him his last name, he said Rashko. I recognized that name instantly—he is the person who discovered Acmaeodera rashkoi, recently described by Rick Westcott and one of the species I had targeted on this trip. I told him of my plan and asked him how he knew who I was. It turns out he is a longtime follower of this blog and had seen my license plate (MOBUGS) earlier in the day. He was traveling from his home in Oregon to Flagstaff to meet his family and stopped here to spend the night and see what he could collect. We had a wonderful time chatting about the art of collecting and about colleagues we know (especially Rick, whose ears were burning I’m sure). I showed him the nice series of C. nelsoni that I’d gotten earlier in the day and told him we could go back in the morning before he left so that he could get some. We got so involved talking that we forgot to even look at his sheet to see what insects had come in until a Polyphylla uteanus (Coral Pink Dunes June beetle—family Scarabaeidae) smacked into his head and bumbled its way over to the sheet (Mike let me keep it). A large female Monochamus clamator also landed on the sheet (which Mike kept).
Eventually we said our goodbyes, and I wandered back to my campsite where I was mildly optimistic that my ultraviolet lights had brought in something. Sadly, there were no beetles of interest, but there was a stunning Hyalophora gloveri (Glover’s silk moth—family Saturniidae) and eventually two small white sphingid moths—all of which I kept for Rich Thoma back home. Success for me that night, however, was not yet out of sight. I made a round to inspect the massive trunks of the ponderosa pines dotting the campground and was rewarded with a nice little series of Zopherus uteanus.
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
I also found a few of the weirdly explanate Embaphion glabrum (family Tenebrionidae) crawling on the ground beneath the trees. A second round to look at the trees yielded no additional beetles, however, so I turned the lights off and turned in.
The “Big Dipper” prominently graces the western sky during the wee morning hours.
Day 8
Just as I had promised the night before, I wandered down to Mike’s campsite in the morning to see if he wanted to look for Chrysobothris nelsoni. He was already out looking for “beetles in the bush” around his campsite, and together we worked our way over to the dunes. It didn’t take long for me to see one of the beetles in its host plant, which I pointed out to Mike so he could see it and try to catch it himself. That beetle got away, but almost immediately he saw another one on a neighboring plant and succeeded in capturing it. We saw several more, but unlike the previous evening they were faster and more difficult to catch with the rising late-morning temps. Mike caught a couple more (and I one for the record) but had to leave, so we exchanged contact info and said our goodbyes.
Morning on the dunes.
The author (left) with Mike Raschko (right).
Back at the campsite, I looked around a bit to see what else I might collect. There was a nice diversity of plants in bloom, many which could be expected to be visited by buprestid beetles—Sphaeralcea parviflora (small-leaf globemallow), Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus), Hymenopappus filifolia, etc., but no beetles were seen. There were clumps of Gamble oak and Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry—family Rosaceae), but beating them produced nothing. The only thing I found was a recently windthrown branch of Utah juniper, which, when I stripped back some of the bark, proved to be in the early stages of infestation by longhorned beetles, probably a Callidium sp. The lack of insect activity (except for C. nelsoni) presented a quandary—should I stay another night (as planned), or should I pack up and head to my next destination (either Leeds Canyon, Utah or Kyle Canyon, Nevada)? I decided it was already too late in the day to head somewhere else—by the time I got there it would be late in the day, and I didn’t relish the idea of searching for an available campsite late with no reservation at such a late hour. I decided I might as well stay put and make the best of it—which I could do by going back over to the dunes and look for more C. nelsoni. The day’s heat, however, was not only making the beetles very difficult to catch but also starting to get to me. Fortunately, distant thunderclouds came closer and closer until they were directly overhead. Rather than rain, however, it was virga, so I got the best of both worlds—an immediate cooling off that was not only comfortable for me but also settled the beetles down without the rain that would have sent me scurrying back to camp.
Virga brings relief from the heat to the dunes.
In the end, I succeeded in collecting another nice series of specimens.
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
By then it was mid-afternoon and I was famished, so I headed back to camp to refresh, refuel, rehydrate, and catch up on my field notes. Comically, as I was writing my notes, I happened to be watching one of the common sagebrush lizards (Sceloporusgraciosus) that had been hanging around the campsite as it bit at and then rejected some type of insect that was crawling on the logpile next to the firepit. I got up to see what it had rejected, and it turned out to be Danosoma brevicorne (family Elateridae), which I am happy to add to the collection.
Common sagebrush lizard (Sceloporusgraciosus).
Danosoma brevicorne on woodpile.
After some chill time at the campsite [it was actually very busy—I wrote my field notes from earlier, charged all my devices using an inverter hooked up to the car battery, and downloaded photos from my “big camera” memory card to the computer], I went back to the dunes to see if I could get “big camera” photo of the beetles. It was touch-and-go at the start—shortly after reaching the dunes it started sprinkling and the wind started picking up. All I could do was wait it out, hope conditions improved, and be ready to bolt if the skies opened up. Just as quickly as it started up, however, it blew over, and I was able to start looking for beetles. As with every other time during this visit, it didn’t take long. The first beetle I found was a bit hidden within the crown of the plant, but I was able to carefully move the leaves out of the way without disturbing the beetle and got a nice series of shots. I was happy with the photos, but I wanted photos that were a little less “cluttered.” The perfect opportunity for such arose when I saw a beetle sitting out near the tip of a leaf. It was not in the best position—other leaves were partially blocking it from view, so I carefully grabbed the leaf at the base and gently pulled until it detached from the plant. Fortunately, the beetle wasn’t phased by the tugging and continued to sit calmly on the leaf. I wanted a blurred pink sand background, which I thought would look spectacular behind the brilliant green color of the beetle, so I stuck the base of the leaf in the sand to prop it up and adjusted the angle and distance in concert with my camera and flash settings until I achieved the desired effect. I’m super happy with how some of these photographs turned out, so look for them to appear in a future post. I’m probably lucky that the mini-storm moved through when it did, as the cool conditions likely calmed the beetles down and made them more willing subjects. By the time I finished photographing the second beetle, the sinking sun signaled a dinner bell, and I walked back to the campground super satisfied with how this visit had turned out.
After dinner, I turned the ultraviolet lights on despite the just-shy-of-full moon and customary coolish temperatures. I didn’t expect anything to show up, but you don’t know if you don’t try (nothing ever showed up!).
Mustard makes everything fancy in the field.
While waiting for nothing to come to the lights, I made several rounds of the large ponderosa pines, expanding the circuit to include some further toward the west end of the campground. As with the night before, I found a half dozen Zopherus uteanus crawling on the trunks (one was up too high to reach, though, and when I knocked it down with a stick it disappeared into the thick vegetation below the tree). I’d really like to know what these guys are up to during the day (hiding in the leaf litter at the base of the trees?) and what the larvae are doing (no idea!), but they certainly seem to be associated with pines (I’ve also collected Zopherus concolor at night on the trunks of Colorado pinyon pine). I also found a few more tenebrionid darkling beetles, including another Embaphion glabrum, crawling on the sandy ground beneath the trees. I expanded my search to include the trunks of some of the large Utah junipers, finding a few more tenebrionids on them.
Embaphion glabrum in ponderosa pine grove at night.
With midnight approaching, I soaked in my last bit of experience at the place before retiring for the night and leaving the next morning.
A waxing gibbous, almost full moon rises high above the campground.
Day 9
I left Ponderosa Grove Campground about 9:30 am with the plan to spend the next couple of days in Kyle Canyon and Lee Canyon northwest of Las Vegas. The drop down from the Colorado Plateau via the Virgin River Canyon was long the most spectacular stretches of freeway I’ve ever seen, but the sad reward waiting at the bottom was searing +100°F heat (the highest I saw registered on my car’s thermometer was 108°F!). Fortunately, turning off I-11 and heading west on Kyle Canyon Road gradually gained elevation. Before reaching the canyon proper, however, I had one of the trip’s top goals to take care of—setting a bottle trap for the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (recall that I encountered the namesake of this species, Mike Raschko, just two days prior at Ponderosa Grove Campground). I found the type locality no problem (where the modest gain in elevation had reduced the temperature to only 100°F!) and also found the trap that Mike had just set the day before we met.
Lower Kyle Canyon Rd—type locality of Acmaeodera raschkoi.
I placed yellow bottle trap about 59 m to the west from Mike’s trap and a blue bottle trap about 45 m to the east. There was no reason to stay at the locality and try to collect, as things were super dry, the only green vegetation seen besides the Yucca jaegeriana (eastern Joshua tree—family Asparagaceae) dotting the landscape was a small Cylindropuntia ramosissima (branched pencil colla—family Cactaceae).
I had originally planned to camp lower down in the canyon at Kyle Canyon Campground, but by the time I got there it was already nearly filled to capacity. There were a couple of campsites still available, but the campground as a whole had a noisy, crowded vibe that wasn’t my cup of tea. I decided to take a chance and head further up the mountain to Hilltop Campground to see if I could find something more to my liking. It was a short drive up the mountain, and this campground also was nearly filled to capacity. However, it was a much quieter vibe, and among the three campsites still available was one that was isolated from all the others on the side of the mountain with spectacular views across the canyon and down into the desert below. Also, the 8300 ft of elevation offered much cooler conditions—a welcome change from the searing temperatures I had endured earlier in the day. It was perfect!
View from Hilltop Campground, Spring Mountains, Nevada.
I quickly set up camp and began looking around. Not far from the campsite I found a wind-thrown branch Utah juniper, and slicing into the bark I found a dead adult Semanotus sp. prob. caseyi amplus (not as exciting as S. juniperi, but still a nice find) and a small scolytid bark beetle boring an oviposition gallery. I did a bit of chopping into the bark and found small new cerambycid galleries (probably either Callidium or Semanotus) and some very large frass-filled galleries at the larger end that may be Semanotus juniperi. I found the frass-plugged entrance hole to the sapwood —a sign that the beetle had not yet emerged—and chipped away on either side of the gallery into the sapwood until I saw the large cerambycid larvae sitting it it. This confirms that the wood is actively infested, and I’ll cut it up and bring it home for rearing. At the empty campsite next to mine, I found a small, recently dead Abies concolor (white fir—family Pinaceae), and closer inspection of the trunk revealed an adult Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa, and on a return trip to the tree I saw another one (but too high up to capture ☹️). I also hung a red wine-baited jug trap just south of the campsite. There wasn’t much else going on in the area and it was getting late, so I got dinner started.
Sunset at Hilltop Campground.
I didn’t even consider setting up lights—the combination of a full moon and the cool, windy conditions that typify sites at this high of an elevation made the chance of success highly unlikely (in fact, it got so cool that I needed to pull on a fleece pullover). That did not, however, mean I could not do any night collecting—examining tree trunks has become a favorite strategy of mine that can be done on almost any night regardless of temperatures or wind. Trees under stress or recently dead (as well as recent wind throws or woodpiles) are especially good to look at, and I had noticed several during my earlier foray that I made a point to check. At the same time, I have also learned not to ignore living, seemingly healthy trees, as these can also harbor interesting beetles. Of course, the very first tree I headed for was the recently dead white fir on which I had collected Dicerca tenebrosa a few hours earlier, and I was rewarded right off the bat with an unusually small Zopherus uteanus. I wondered if this might be an interesting locality for the species, but I saw the species was recorded from Kyle Canyon in a review of the genus by Triplehorn (1972) (at which time it was still placed in the family Tenebrionidae). I quickly found another individual, this time on the trunk of a large Utah juniper—interestingly, the first non-pinaceous host on which I’ve found the species (although still a gymnosperm).
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
What I was most anxious to check, however, was a large Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) that I had seen nearby with a long, twisting scar from a lightning strike gashing down the trunk—surely there would be something on that (there wasn’t despite checking it repeatedly for the next couple of hours). What did produce beetles, though, was a large, recently wind-thrown branch from that very tree laying on the ground nearby—two species and multiple specimens of each, one (Oeme? sp.) searching frenetically back and forth along the branch, and the other (Haplidus? sp.) in the form of a mating pair. I found it interesting that my inspection of the branch earlier during the day produced nothing.
Oeme? sp. on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Haplidus? sp. mating pair on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
At this point, the night was already a reasonable success, but the greatest success lay just ahead. I had noticed a few large Utah junipers that showed evidence of infestation by Semanotus juniperi—or at least that what I presumed based on what I had learned about that species in the Kaibab Plateau a few days earlier. Not that I thought I would see adults of that species, but I figured the trees would have to be under some stress and might attract other beetles (I had already collected Z. uteanus off of one a few minutes prior). The first one I checked had nothing on it, but when I checked the second one I noticed a large black longhorned beetle on the trunk underneath some shredded bark. I carefully removed the overlying bark to get a better look at it and quickly realized that it was, indeed, S. juniperi! As I prepared to take a photograph, I noticed movement a bit higher on the trunk, and there sat a second individual! In the fraction of a second that followed, the memory of all the chainsaw work I had done a few days earlier in an effort to rear proper specimens flashed through my mind, yet here before me now were two live adults on their host in the wild. I presume the tree is attracting the adults and that there are already numerous individuals inside of it, as I found large swaths of larval galleries under the bark but no obvious adult emergence holes. The tree itself looks healthy and shows no outward sign of stress, and were it not for the evidence of larval galleries I wouldn’t have even suspected it was infested. As with Z. uteanus, this species also has been recorded from Kyle Canyon (Hammond & Williams 2013).
Semanotus juniperi on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
Over the next hour, I continued inspecting trees in the area, but especially those on which I’d found beetles, and eventually that effort was rewarded with a third S. juniperi on the same tree I collected the previous two. The final collection of the night occurred just after that, when I found not one but two more Z. uteanus, this time on the trunk of P. monophylla. I made one more quick round of the trees, but as it was now midnight I accepted the bounty of the night and turned in.
Days 10 & 11
Unfortunately, I had to end the trip rather abruptly due to a confluence of circumstances at home. The final straw was the rapid decline of Berlioz—our 20-year-old cat (only lifelong cat lovers will understand the bond between a man and his cat). It was not a surprise, and in the morning as soon as I was able to break camp, I left Kyle Canyon and spent the next two days blasting north on I-15 and west on I-70. Sadly, I wasn’t able to make it home before he passed. I’ve had many cats over the course of my life, but King Berlioz was the best!
Welcome to the 15th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the second 11-day insect collecting trip to eastern New Mexico this year. This trip, which took place on June 17–28, was a follow-up to “Act 1” on May 14–25 with the purpose of servicing “jug traps” placed on the first trip. Joining me this time was Rich Thoma, who has accompanied me on more field trips than anyone else over the past four decades! Initially I had planned to pick up the traps that I’d placed on the first trip; however, I found the idea of sampling just the early part of the longhorned beetle season to be unsatisfying and decided shortly before the trip to service the traps but leave them in place for another sampling period and make a third trip later in the season to retrieve them. It will be a coupe of months, however, before I can make that third trip, meaning the traps will be out for much longer than normal and making desirable any modifications that I can make to extend their effectiveness. To that end, I prepared larger bait bottles (500-ml capacity versus 250-ml) and purchased enough propylene glycol to fill the jug reservoirs to the limit of their capacity (1250 ml versus the 900 ml used previously). The prototype trap that I made prior to the trip seemed to work, so it was only a matter of deploying them in the field and keeping my fingers crossed. Similar to the last trip, we ended up making 16 visits to 16 different localities—15 in New Mexico, one in Oklahoma (versus 13 localities previously), but unlike last trip we also spent time at two localities (one in Oklahoma, one in Texas) strictly for hiking and observation.
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge Alfalfa County, Oklahoma Rich and I are repeating the 12-hour drive from St. Louis to Black Mesa State Park in the northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle that I did last month with Mike Arduser. I decided not to do the dreadful I-44 through Tulsa route, even though it is quicker, because I really just dread the boredom of the interstates and especially dislike the traffic and highways around Tulsa. Instead, we cut into southern Kansas at the last mile in Missouri and skimmed the bottom edge of that state—a very scenic route—until dropping down into Oklahoma once we’d gotten past I-35. Since we were passing by Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge and it had been probably ten or more years since we’d stopped there, we decided to take a look around the alkaline flats to see what tiger beetles we might see.
Alkaline flats at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle) was out in abundance, allowing easy cell phone photography.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
There was also the occasional individual of the dreadfully pedestrian Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), but none of the other alkaline flat specialties like Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) or Eunota togata globicollis (white-cloaked tiger beetle) were seen.
Cicindela punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
We were fooled, however, by a tiny species of “tiger beetle” that, upon closer inspection, proved to be a shore bug (Pentacora signoreti—family Saldidae).
Pentacora signoreti (shore bug—family Saldidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
It was dreadfully windy (as it often is in the wide open reaches of the vast Great Plains), so nothing was found on the few flowers that were found along the trail. Not wanting to delay our arrival at Black Mesa this evening too much, we cut the visit short and continued on the way.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of the alkaline flat.
The rest of the drive along the northern edge of Oklahoma was stunningly beautiful. Not only did we get to enjoy the non-interstate landscape and the more intimate experience it provided, but we also watched a spectacular storm system as it bloomed across the skies to the north and west. Radar and forecasts calmed our fears that we would experience it more directly—it was slated to sweep across Kansas but not touch Oklahoma, letting us admire stunning vistas of golden fields of sunlit wheat against a backdrop of blackened clouds …
Storm in Kansas over wheat in Oklahoma.
…and, as sunset approached, fiery skies peaking out between them.
The setting sun peaks between the storm and the wheat.
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, Oklahoma By the time we reached Black Mesa State Park, it was well dark, but we got camp set up with enough time left to enjoy a beer and relax a bit before walking the roads to see what beetles might be out and about. I was hoping to see Amblycheila cylindriformis (Plains giant tiger beetle), but our finds were limited to darkling beetles (Eleodes suturalis and E. longicollis)…
Eleodes suturalis (red-backed darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) “headstanding” at night in juniper woodland.
…a couple of Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae)…
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) at night in juniper woodland.
…and an interesting aggregation of Epicauta sp. prob. maculata species-group blister beetles (family Meloidae).
Epicauta sp. prob. bispinosa aggregated at night in juniper woodland.
Satisfied we’d given the area a good enough look, we settled into the fly-less tent to admire the stars while falling to sleep in the cool night air.
Unsettled skies at night portend trouble ahead.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit the Lincoln National Forest’s Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Both of those decisions did not work out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed, despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm, so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning. Then, when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove to the entrance anyway, where we found a parking area for a trailhead and looked around a bit. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed the recent rains, but there was almost no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs didn’t help with our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Day 2
Conditions turned quickly and unexpectedly on us! There was no hint of rain in the local forecast, but we awoke at 2 am to drizzle coming through the roof of the tent and quickly installed the rain fly. It rained the rest of the night—sometimes heavily, and while we were able to eat breakfast and then break camp in the morning before heavy rains returned it was still a cold, windy, drizzly experience. (I’ve now camped here seven times in the last two years, and this is the fourth time I’ve experience blustery cold and/or rainy weather here!) We had planned to collect during the morning at our favorite nearby spot—a sandstone outcropping just east of Kenton where I have collected five new state records—two cerambycids and three buprestids—in the last few years. Steady rain and cold temperatures, however, cancelled those plans, and radar and forecasts made it appear we might spend the next two or three days dealing with such unless we made significant progress towards the south. We decided to go to our next stop—Mills Rim Campground—where I had the first set of my traps to service, and then see how conditions developed before deciding whether to stay or move on.
Mills Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico Rains did let up as we approached Mill Rim Campground and while we were there, but only temporarily while cool (almost cold!) conditions persisted. We stopped on the road into the campground to check out a pile of recently-cut juniper wood hoping to see woodboring beetles, but all I saw was a solitary bee fly (though one I’d never noticed before—Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae).
Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae) in juniper woodland.
In the campground, I was pleased to see that all three traps were still in place, though the bait and reservoir liquid were both completely gone in them. I was also pleased to find that the traps redeployed nicely with my changes (larger 500-ml bait bottle and a larger volume—1250 ml—of diluted propylene glycol in the reservoir).
“Jug trap” hanging in ponderosa pine with two improvements: larger (500-ml) bait bottle, and larger volume of diluted propylene glycol (1250 ml instead of 900 ml).
Catch results, however, were a bit disappointing. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps had lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids, while the EtOH trap had nothing but a single E. fulgida (I suspect the trap reservoir may have been “dumped” during high winds). The white bottle trap had a few Acmaeodera spp. and about 12–15 bees, which I collected for my mellitologist friend Mike Arduser.
The “rim” of Mill Canyon.
Once all the traps had been serviced, the continuing rain and cold conditions made it an easy decision to keep moving south and forget about trying to collect or camp here!
“San Jon Hill” Quay County, New Mexico The forecasts showed temperatures about 10°F higher once we got as far south as San Jon, near which I had a set of traps that needed to be serviced, and about an hour further south was Oasis State Park where we would have a place to camp and possibly collect if the conditions were right. Conditions did indeed improve as we neared San Jon, with solid overcast skies beginning to brighten in the south and intermittent sun beginning to reach the ground. By the time we reached the spot where my traps were located, temps were well above 80°F and skies were partly sunny—but what wind!
We set about servicing the traps, and here I had another concerned calmed—this was the last place I had set traps last month, so the traps were the older style body made from shorter water jugs—nevertheless, the larger bait bottles fit inside the traps (barely), and the reservoir was able to handle the higher liquid amount. Results for the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps were nearly identical to Mills Rim—both filled with lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids (or at least very few—I did see at least one as I dumped the catch into the plastic bag). Again, I bagged the catch from both traps for later sorting. The EtOH trap, unfortunately, was down—the hanging rope was cut, apparently snapped due to rubbing against a branch in the wind. Just in case the culprit was hominid, however, I installed a new trap in a different nearby tree where it couldn’t be seen from the previous spot. The white bottle trap was absolutely overwhelmed with both Acmaeoderamixta and A. ligulata (and hopefully other species as well) and bees (for Mike), which I bagged for later sorting. We spent another hour or so collecting, but it was not terribly productive for me—beating Prosopis glandulosa produced lots of leaf-footed bugs and tiny beetles from the flowers, but I kept only a single Cleridae. I also beat a lot of oaks (Quercus mohriana and Q. x undulata) hoping to find more Brachys barberi (got one last time) but found nothing except a couple of elaterids. I also swept several stands of Quercus havardii but found nothing but grasshopper nymphs. All of the Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear) from which I had collected Acmaeodera spp. last time were bloomed out, but I paid attention to them anyway hoping to see cactus beetles and finally found one Moneilema armatum on the pad of one.
Moneilema armatum (black cactus longhorned beetle— family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland).
I also encountered a single plant in flower, from which I collected one Trichiotinus texanus (Texas flower scarab) and a couple of Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab). There were a few A. mixta on various flowers (primarily Thelesperma megapotamicum and Xanthisma spinulosa), but I let Rich have them and didn’t see any other species. Having satisfied ourselves that we’d gotten a good enough look, we continued south towards Oasis State Park.
Sunlit windmills stretch across the horizon under changeable skies.
Oasis State Park Roosevelt County, New Mexico Nice conditions and brightly sunlit windmills followed us during the 90-minute drive further south to our campground near Portales, with a spectacular bonus sunset greeting us upon our arrival.
Sunset on the Sand Dune Trail at Oasis State Park.
I quick ran over to the Sand Dune Trail to get a photo, knowing that colored sunsets of that sort are fleeting at best, and then we set about putting up camp and grilling some brats. Afterwards, we began our night walk to see what critters might be out and about, but first I wanted to go to a small, nicely-lit building near the restrooms to see what the lights may have pulled in (despite the presence of nearly full moon). At first I found only a few tenebrionids, though in nice variety and including one of the fantastically explanate tenebrionid Embaphion muricatum, and a crummy Cicindelidia punctulata chiricahuae (western subspecies of the punctured tiger beetle), but then I found several bolboceratine geotrupids—the large chunky Bradycinetulus fossatus, and several of the smaller Eucanthus sp. Then I saw a big something crawling frenetically nearby in the road, went over to look at it, and saw that it was a female Prionus arenarius—what a find!
Prionus arenarius (sandwalker prionid—family Cerambycidae) dead female on road through sand dune habitat.
There wasn’t much on the Sand Dune Trail loop, but another Embaphion muricatum on the loop and dead but perfectly intact specimens on the road through the campground of yet another Bradycinetulus fossatus and female Prionus arenarius—the two best finds of the night—made the walk worth it. Afterwards, we returned to the building lights to see if more Prionus (male or female) had arrived, but by then it was close to midnight and the cool night air had a decided “things are over” feel to it.
Arethaea mescalero (Mescalero thread-leg katydid—family Tettigoniidae) under light at night in sand dune habitat.
A species of straight-faced windscorpion (family Eremobatidae) under building light at night in sand dune habitat.
Day 3
We stayed dry all night and awoke to sunny skies early, but clouds increased as the morning progressed and the forecast called for rain starting around 10 am. Rich wanted to look around while we had the chance, but I’d seen enough and instead worked on my notes while he was out and about. Eventually we broke camp and headed out—no sooner had we done that then the rain started! We eventually learned that all this rain we were dealing with had a name—Tropical Storm Alberto, which had made landfall the day before in Mexico and was throwing moisture everywhere in its wake. At least it now made sense to us why the entire eastern half of the state was so persistently rainy no matter where we went. As we drove towards our next stop (Mescalero Sands Recreation Area), we formulated Plan B to blast all the way south and west to near Las Cruces, which seemed to be escaping the rains, and hole up there for the next two days until things cleared up. However, we arrived at the dunes under partly sunny skies and nicely warm, though quite windy, conditions.
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area Chaves County, New Mexico The first order of business was to service my jug traps, which I had hung in the Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) stands that dot the highway rights-of-way along the edge of the sand dune area. This has been one of my best collecting spots over the years—being the only place where I have reliably found in numbers the beautiful lime-green Agrilus sapindi in association with the soapberry. Unfortunately, all three jug traps were empty—compromised in some way by the strong winds that seem to persist in this area. One trap was “spun around” the branch on which it was hanging, another dropped when the rope came undone, and the third simply swung wildly in the wind, throwing the bait bottle and emptying the reservoir. I elected not to rehang any of the traps here, having little confidence that I would be able hang them any more securely than I had already done. It’s a shame, because I was really interested in seeing what longhorned beetles the traps would pull, not only from the soapberrys in which they were hanging but also from the surrounding Quercus havardii (shinnery oak)-dominated sandhill shrubland. Right on queue, however, I found several A. sapindi and one Neoclytus mucronatus vogti on the soapberries as I was retrieving the last trap.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) in sand shrubland.
Also, though not an insect, I noticed a partial mammal cranium (missing the maxillae) half-buried in the sand. I picked it up and looked at it, thinking it might be a javelina because of the far rear-situated cranial crest. Then I noticed the other half of the cranium lying teeth-upwards nearby. The two pieces fit together nearly perfectly (some minor warping notwithstanding), and the large canine tusks convinced me even more so that it represented a javelina. I bagged it and will glue it together when I return home for display in my “bone shelf”!
Assembled fragments of collared peccary (Pecari tajacu) cranium found along roadside through sand shrubland.
As I started heading back to the car, I saw—and missed!—a Chrysobothris mescalero on the shinnery oak in that spot—damn! Happily, I did manage to sweep another individual from the plants back near where we parked. Continued sweeping failed to produce any more individuals, but what I really wanted to find was Agrilus hespenheidei—also beautiful green but completely unrelated to A. sapindi and which I have collected only sparingly in the past but failed completely to find on my most recent visit. I swept the grasses along the roadside and found none (for now!), then went into the recreation area entrance to retrieve the white bottle trap—it was overwhelmed with Acmaeodera spp. and bees, which I bagged and will sort later. Very little else was seen, and by the time I returned to the car Rich was satisfied with the myriad pollinating insects he’d collected off the soapberry flowers and specimens of A. sapindi and C. mescalero that he’d swept. It was still early enough in the day after refueling and rehydrating that we decided to visit the dunes proper and see what might be out.
Distant sand dunes frame an even more distant escarpment.
I wasn’t very optimistic about collecting in the dunes, given that paucity of insects seen in the shrubland along the highway and just inside the entrance, but there was still enough time left in the day to spend time here and not enough to move on to the campground near Roswell and collect there. For much of the time, my pessimism prevailed, as I did a bit of sweeping here and there and saw (but did not collect) only the occasional mutillid (velvet ant) and tenebrionid (darkling beetle). The scenery was nice, however, and the temperatures comfortable, and at the furthest point out we had a bit of fun “working” a common blotch-sided lizard (Uta standsburiana) female into a place where we were able to photograph her.
Me taking a photo of a Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) female. Photo by Richard Thoma.
On the way back, I happened to notice a buprestid sitting on the dried stem of Sporobolus giganteus (giant dropseed) and realized it was the one buprestid I was hoping to collect here—Agrilus hespenheidei! This led to a renewed round of sweeping in all the neighboring plants and others along the way back, resulting in several interesting captures such as an ataxiine cerambycid, one Macrosaigon sp., two Selenodon sp., and a couple of small weevils—but no additional A. heapenheidei! I also found an interesting little Eusattus sp. tenebrionid on the sand, so it was nice leaving the place knowing that I would not be “skunked” for the first time on the trip!
We drove through rain on the drive going west towards Roswell, and shortly afterwards I saw a male Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) crossing the highway. I did a U-turn and went back to it to 1) move it off the highway so it wouldn’t get run over and 2) take photos of it. Several cars passed over it as we were backtracking, but fortunately none ran over it, and we had a clear road to turn around once again and pull over. We took a few quick photos while it was still on the road—one amazingly capturing the newly formed rainbow in the background—before a semi bearing down from the distance forced us to quickly “guide” it off the road. It really wanted to continue to the other side, so we had to be quite insistent on forcing it off the road, and after traffic cleared we coaxed it into a jar and delivered it to the other side of the highway all the way to the fenceline.
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain crossing road in mesquite chaparral (framed by rainbow!).
Bottomless Lakes State Park Chaves County, New Mexico We arrived at the park with some good daylight to spare and snagged the choicest campsite in the entire campground (why the people at the two already occupied sites didn’t take it is beyond me!), explored our new home for a bit, and then set about putting everything in place.
Premier campsite at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
As soon as we finished, we noticed a rain shower in the distance and debated the direction it was moving. I thought it would pass to our east, but within minutes it was raining—and a few minutes later it was pouring! But we watched in comfort under the large metal shelter covering our table and admired the incredible rainbow that formed over the canyon wall bordering the eastern side of our campsite.
Rains appearing on the horizon.
Rainbow-framed canyon walls at the edge of our campsite.
Eventually the rain stopped and we fired up some burgers on the grill. Wildlife competed for my interest while the burgers were cooking, apparently brought out by the fresh rain and coming darkness. These included a kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.) and a red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus).
Kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.—family Heteromyidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus—family Bufonidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
The fresh rain, coolish temps, and near-full moon made setting up the lights to attract insects out of the question, but after dinner when darkness had fully settled we walked the road through the campground to look for nocturnal beetles. I was hoping to find Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle), one of which had had found up on the rock slope the last time I was here, but I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of clambering over steep, wet rocks in the dark and settled for the pavement up to the beginning of the tent campground and back. Large tenebrionid darkling beetles were expected, thus the two we saw were no surprise, but what did surprise and delight us was another male tarantula—and not the common Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) but the much less commonly encountered Chihuahuan gray (A. gabeli)! This was a delight and becomes the fourth species of tarantula I’ve found in the wild. We trailed it back and forth as it ambled along the road trying to get good photos, but it never stopped long enough to allow such. Eventually it did stop along the side of the road, where we took some “okay” photos before moving on.
Aphonopelma gabeli (Chiricahuan gray tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As we began to walk away, I had second thoughts and decided to try for one more frontal portrait shot, but I had to move a little plant stem that was obscuring the view. I did this as carefully as I could, but the tarantula sensed something and suddenly took off like a shot. I followed as it bolted across the road, where suddenly it stopped and hunkered down right out in the open—as if it had fled the danger and was now willing to wait it out for a bit before resuming its wandering. At that point, I was able to easily take the frontal portrait photos that I desired—all that following and frustration, when all I really needed to do was scare it and wait for it to stop running.
The sight a cricket does not want to see!
By the time we returned to the campsite, I was exhausted and turned in early (rare for me!).
Day 4
It started raining again around 2 am and didn’t really let up until after noon. We took advantage of the chance to update our field notes and process specimens before going into town to pick up a few supplies. It was still raining when we returned later in the morning, but only lightly and allowing us to stop at the cenote next to the visitor center. I never took the opportunity to look at one of the cenotes last time, so this was my first actual look at one of them.
Rich admites a “cenote” (Cottonwood Lake) at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
Chlorochroa ligata (conchuela bug—family Pentatomidae) mating pair on seedpod of Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
We headed back to our campsite and continued working on our field notes and adding captions to our photographs until the rain finally stopped around 1:30 pm, and by 2:30 conditions had dried out and temps warmed enough to warrant going out and collecting.
Plathemis subornata (desert skimmer—family Libellulidae) near cenote in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
I started out by hiking the ravine from our campground down to where it drained into a cenote (Pasture Lake) near the adjacent campsite and found lots of Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug) on the ground near and within a stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along the lake margin where they were walking about, mating, and burrowing into the soil at base of the plants—especially dead remnants.
Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug—family Curculionidae) near stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along cenote shoreline.
I also scoured the barren alkaline soil along the lake margin for tiger beetles and found a couple of Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) elytra and several adult Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle). Before leaving the lake area I also snagged an Acmaeodera gibbula in flight and then wandered over to the area where I found Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush) infested with longhorned beetles (Amannus sp., which I still have not identified). I was hoping to see adults now emerged and in the plants, but none were seen. I also kept an eye out for buprestids on the Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) but never saw anything. I was starting to think buprestids were (puzzlingly) out-of-season as I wandered up into the picnic area where I found several things last time and quickly saw a beautiful Gyascutus planicosta obliterata adult sitting on the foliage of A. canescens. Over the next couple of hours I would collect a handful of these beautiful beetles. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen members of this genus in the field, and I’d forgotten whether they were skittish or sluggish—this one was the latter and let me take a nice close photo before obligingly dropping into the net. Probably it depends on temperature, as I remember collecting these in Texas in blazing hot conditions and seeing them zip off instantly and fly far into the distance upon sensing my approach. Today’s temps were much more modest (thankfully), so the adults were rather easy to collect.
Gyascutus planicosta obliterata (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As I looked for Gyascutus on the slopes and around the picnic area, I took the opportunity to beat the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa)—especially those in flower. [Edit: the genus Prosopis was recently split up into several genera, with P. glandulosa being assigned to the new genus Neltuma. I don’t reject this new placement but will use the older, more familiar name on this blog until the new name receives greater acceptance.] Most of what I saw were leaffooted bugs, but I did pick up one more A. gibbula, one Acmaeoderopsis hulli, a few Epicauta sp., and a couple each of a darnine and a centrotine membracid. I also continued to inspect A. canescens plants for signs of infestation by Amannus but was unable to find any larvae or unemerged adults in the few living plants that I broke apart when they exhibited emergence holes. What I did find, however, was an Acmaeodera sp. partial cadaver of an adult that had failed to emerge. I was able to retrieve its elytral shield (Acmaeodera sp. have fused elytra, which they lift up during flight rather than spread apart like most other buprestids), and hopefully it will be enough to enable a species identification and a confirmed larval host plant association. By the time I looked at the last plant, it was going on 6 pm. I was hot, thirsty, and hungry, and I had a lot of specimens from previous days still to process, so I headed back to the campsite.
Rich admires another cenote (Pasture Lake) while I scale the canyon walls above.
It took a couple of hours to write up my notes and complete processing of the specimens I’d collected from the bottle trap yesterday at Mescalero Sands (I’m guessing there were at least 100, if not 200, Acmaeodera specimens as well as a few dozen bees for Mike). As darkness descended, the full moon rising in the east dampened any enthusiasm I may have had for putting up the full UV/MV (ultraviolet/mercury vapor) light setup, but what we did do was much simpler: just lay a UV light on a white sheet on the ground. Despite the increasingly intense moonlight, tiger beetles began to show up on and near the sheet. Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) was the first to arrive and turned out to be abundant.
Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Jundlandia lemniscata repaptisata (rouged tiger beetle) also was common, but it took longer for them to come in.
Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
What I was most recited about, however, were the two individuals of Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle) that showed up.
Cicindela tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Rich also found a Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle running on the ground nearby. Eventually we decided to walk the road—Rich was hoping to see snakes, and I was hoping to see Amblycheila picolominii (Plains giant tiger beetle), a single individual of which I had seen during my previous visit up on the gypsum/red siltstone slope bordering the campground. Neither of us saw what we were hoping to see, or anything else for that matter, so we returned to the campground. I still had Amblycheila on my mind, however, so I decided to go back up onto the slopes where I had seen the species before to at least give myself a chance of seeing it again. I clambered semi-directly to the spot where I had seen it before, continued across the slope to the northern canyon limit, and then went downslope a bit to traverse the again in the opposite direction. Right as I started across again, I found one ambling across the rocks much as the previous one I’d seen. This charged my motivation, and though traversing the slope several more times proved fruitless, I was still a happy camper!
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
After returning to the campsite, I decided to explore the steep, narrow, canyon ravine behind our campsite, which I still had not yet done, and picked my way over the rocks to as far as I could go. I kind of expected/hoped to see Amblycheila, but not really—just wanted to explore the unique canyon feature. Near the furthest point I shine my headlamp on the steep clay slope at the bottom of the canyon wall and saw a Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi). It was not, however, just any ol’ Texas brown, but a female—recognizable as such by her relatively shorter legs and larger abdomen and also the fact that she was sitting right next to her burrow. I’m sure Madam will be rightly excited when she finds out we have a new pet named Bertha!
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) near burrow on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
You’d think this would be the perfect swan song for the evening, but as I picked my way back down the canyon floor I spotted another A. picolominii, which made me want to keep exploring even more. This I did, going down to the spot along the Bluff Trail where I’d had so much success with Gyascutus earlier in the afternoon, but the only thing all this extra walking resulted in was an even later bedtime. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have been more pleased at finding six tiger beetle species during this visit (after finding only the single Amblycheila last time and thinking I was losing my tiger beetle mojo!).
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
Day 5
Despite the great success we’d had collecting insects in Bottomless Lakes State Park the previous day or so, there was one thing I was glad to be leaving—the house flies! They swarmed our campsite in numbers I’d never seen before, relentlessly landing on everything including our supplies, hands, faces, etc. it then took an hour or so getting all of the thousand or so that had infiltrated our vehicle out of the vehicle as we drove towards our next stop in the southernmost tract of the Lincoln National Forest in Eddy Co. Before leaving Roswell, however, we had to stop by the “Alien Welcome Monument” at the edge of town. I was disappointed to see that my version of “Kilroy was here” graffiti from last time’s visit was gone (apparently the monument gets painted over periodically), so I added it back.
Rich (L) and me in the requisite Roswell alien selfie.
“Entomological graffiti.”
X Bar Rd Eddy County, New Mexico The gradual ascent from the desert floor up into the pinyon/oak/juniper zone of the mountains is among the remotest-feeling that I have ever experienced, and just shy of the National Forest boundary we found our next spot. My biggest concern was whether the area was still experiencing drought conditions, but we were happy to see that the area has actually received rain—enough in the last day or so to thoroughly wet the soil. We could see it in the way the area looked, with most of the oaks and acacias having sprouted new leaves and the surrounding slopes exhibiting a greenish “cast.” The catches from all three traps were similar to each other and to what we had seen further north—i.e., mostly moths, but without the Euphoria fulgida. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps seemed to have caught more than the EtOH trap, but the difference was not as large as further north. I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in the first two (as I bagged them for later sorting), but not many. I was hoping to see my primary target—Purpuricenus opacus, but I also knew that it may be a bit early for that species (and with the prevailing droughty conditions I may never see it). The white bottle trap, on the other hand, was loaded with Acmaeodera spp. and bees (the latter which I kept for Mike). Seeing the fresh foliage on the plants in the area, I set about beating some of them hoping things were starting to come out. Beating Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), however, produced only a few chrysomelids, as did beating the oaks (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe). There was very little in bloom, and sweeping the roadside vegetation produced nothing. Even the the few Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) from which I’d collected a fair number of Acmaeodera spp. last time were devoid of flowers. Hopefully the recent rains will continue to trigger further beetle emergence, and my traps will collect some of these over the next two months.
Chihuahuan spotted whiptail (Aspidoscelis exsanguis) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Klondike Gap Rd, Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico We were optimistic about what we might see at this, my highest priority location for the jug traps, as it was from here that the west Texas specialty Purpuricenus opacus was recently reared from oak. Since the previous spot had seen rain, it seemed likely that this one had as well. Sadly, the landscape turned bone dry as we approached—dust on the plants with no sign of fresh foliage proving that it hadn’t rained for some time. My spirits were further dampened when I found the SRW trap down due to a frayed and broken rope. I rehung the trap with replacement rope (I always bring a spare trap and parts just in case) and was pleased to find both the SRW/EtOH and EtOH-only traps still hanging and—remarkably—with even more numerous trap catches than at the previous spot despite the lack of rain. Again, I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in each, but not many, and not a single scarab. The real surprise, however, came with the white bottle trap—literally hundreds of Acmaeodera, perhaps three or four times as many as were in the bottle trap at the previous spot. There were even a couple of still-living beetles walking about on top of the mass of beetles that were testing the limits of the volume of propylene glycol in the trap, suggesting that the beetles are currently active even with the dry conditions—but where are they?! There are no flowers to speak of, and beating produced nothing, yet the beetles must be flying about. All I can do is hope that conditions will improve sometime over the next two months that the traps are out and that they will be able attract whatever emerges whenever that happens.
“Jug trap” supplies with bagged catch.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Last month when I came here with Mike, our only reason for coming here was that it was a campground close to my trap localities where we could spend the night after setting the traps and then move on the next morning. When we arrived, however, we were immediately captivated by the stunning beauty of the canyon, and we decided that my next trap run should include an extra day to allow some hiking and exploring. That’s exactly what I planned for this visit, with two nights of camping bracketing a full day of hiking. The approach to the park is, in itself, spectacular, starting with a steep drop off the plateau and an expansive vista of the valley below—the highway leading to the park appearing as a thin, straight line between the massively tall canyon walls on either side.
Queen Hwy approach to Dog Canyon, Guadalupe Mountains National Park.
A small sign at the park border announces that you are also entering the great state of Texas!
A Texas welcome!
To our surprise, the campground was deserted—a marked contrast from last time when we were lucky enough to snag the last available campsite as Saturday night walk-ins. I can’t say I was disappointed, as that was my only real complaint about my previous visit. We weren’t totally alone, however—Kitty quickly stopped by to see us, at once skittish yet desperately wanting affection (and probably food). Of course, insect collecting is not allowed in a national park without a permit, so this visit was strictly for observing and (hopefully) lots of photographs. Both of these began shortly after we finished dinner (including Kitty, who scored a couple of sardines) and dusk had settled over the canyon when several large male Prionus californicus flew by at our campsite.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Cerambycidae) at dusk in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Afterwards, we decided to walk the gravel road through the campground and back past the state line to the paved highway in hopes of seeing snakes and other critters. We saw no snakes, but we say plenty of other critters—Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae), a couple of Omorgus sp. (carcass beetles—family Trogidae), Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae), a juvenile tarantula (likely Aphonopelma sp.—family Theraphosidae), and my favorite—a couple of Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae).
Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Omorgus sp. (skin beetle—family Trogidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aphonopelma sp. (family Theraphosidae) juvenile on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Amblycheila picolominii on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
We also saw numerous tenebrionid beetles in diversity far too great to photograph as well as two species of toads.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Great Plains toad (Anaxyrus cognatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Smile for the camera!
The most puzzling observation of the evening was two large ants apparently locked in tug-of-war combat—each momentarily gaining momentum and then just as quickly losing it to the other in a back-and-forth seesaw battle. Perhaps our local formicid specialist James Trager can shed light on this observation. Edit: James writes:
This looks like a couple of major workers of Camponotus sp. tussling at a territorial boundary of two colonies. These look like and might be C. americanus, but I’m frankly not sure about the ID from that location, without looking at specimens.
Camponotus sp. (carpenter ants—family Formicidae) playing “tug-of-war” on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Day 6
Bush Mountain Trail Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Today’s plan was to spend the first part of the morning relaxing with coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes, then hike up Bush Mountain to Marcus Overlook. Gaining nearly 1000 feet in just under three miles, it would be enough of a challenge for either one of us, especially considering how slow Rich and I tend to be on our hikes due to constantly stopping to look at things.
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
As we passed through the grasslands beyond the horse corrals, we started seeing one of my favorite tiger beetles—Cicindelidia obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle). The first two we saw were black, suggesting they were assignable to the nominate subspecies, but then we saw a green individual (that I got barely close enough for a crappy photo) which suggests subspecies C. o. santaclarae—a subspecies I’ve never seen in the field before and this spot surely on the eastern edge of its distribution (perhaps in an intergrade zone with nominate C. obsoletus). Perhaps in the morning before we leave I’ll go back and see if I can get a more acceptable photograph.
Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae (Santa Clara grassland tiger beetle) on clay trail through montane grassland.
For a while the trail was not too steep as it followed a rocky wash, and most of the herbaceous plants were just beginning to produce new foliage (late June seems to me like an awful late start to the season!). As we ascended the mountain, the habitat turned from pinyon/juniper/oak woodland to alpine grassland with large ponderosa pines dotting the steep hillsides. The ascent was quite steep in places, causing us to stop frequently; however, our reward for doing so was the chance to take our eyes off our feet and instead admire the expansive vistas sprawling before us!
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
About halfway up I noticed what must have been a webbed-over (and thus occupied) tarantula burrow—my second tarantula burrow after having never seen one in my emite life.
Apparently occupied tarantula burrow in montane grassland.
Along a ridge near the top we found a very colorfully marked juvenile greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi—the first horned lizard that I’ve seen in the field that was not a Texas horned lizard (P. cornutum).
Rare shade along the middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi) on limestone trail through montane grassland.
The best find of the day, however, was the least expected—several tiger beetles whose identity I did not recognize and which proved to be Cicindelidia laetipennis! This particular population was, until very recently, considered a subspecies of C. politula (limestone tiger beetle) that was endemic to the Guadeloupe Mountains (C. p. petrophila—rock loving tiger beetle) and characterized by extreme variability in coloration despite its very small geographic range. Indeed, the two individuals I managed to get close enough to photograph (thanks to my new cell phone’s zoom function!) showed part of this variability—one being bright coppery-red and the other almost greenish. Molecular analysis, however, has shown that the population is instead conspecific with C. laetipennis, which was until then considered restricted to Mexico. Whether an endemic subspecies of a more common species or a distinct phenotype of a Mexican species, it was a thrill for me to see in the field for the first time.
View from hairpin turn on middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Cicindelidia laetipennis (formerly C. politula petrophila—family Cicindelidae) on limestone trail through montane grassland. This individual is quite red.
Another individual of Cicindelidia laetipennis, this one decidedly greenish.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of limestone habitat for Cicindelidia laetipennis in montane grassland.
At Marcus Overlook, we enjoyed a bit of a food and rest while viewing the expanse of mountains further west and south in the park, thankful that such immensely wild, unspoiled places still exist. The hike back down was more about the destination than the experience—the careful footing required to navigate the at times steep grades keep our eyes mostly on our feet, and by the time we reached our campsite at mid-afternoon we were ready for some rest, food, and rehydration!
View of Guadalupe Mountains from Marcus Overlook.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Neither decision worked out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed (despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm), so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning, and when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove the road anyway and found a trailhead parking area just before the entrance that looked interesting enough to explore. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed recent rains, but there was no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs further lowered our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico On the way back, I had an idea—stop by the traps I’d serviced the previous day on Klondike Gap Rd (not too far off the main highway) and see if they were beginning to pull anything in. I checked only the bottle trap and the SRW/EtOH traps, and both had fresh catch—Acmaeodera in the former and Euphoria in the latter. Of course, I was hoping (but did not expect) to see Purpuricenus opacus, and though I did not see it after 24 short hours I remain optimistic that it will come to the traps in the next few weeks. While we were there, I noticed a particular oak tree (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe) alongside the road. Something about it said “Beat me!”, so I went back and got the beating sheet out of the car, beat another oak on the way back to the tree without seeing anything, and in the first whack of the tree I got Chrysobothris axillaris—an oak associate that I’ve only seen in west Texas. Of course, that motivated me to starting beating other oaks, but I never saw another beetle. Certainly not a productive stop, but at least getting C. axillaris made it worth the effort.
Agave havardiana (Harvard’s century plant—family Agavaceae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas This being our last evening in the park, we brought out the bison steaks for a celebratory dinner, and they were quite good despite having to be cooked in a skillet over my tiny stove (no charcoal grills allowed!). Perhaps the “dirty skillet” imparted some flavor. Kitty joined the celebration, scoring four sardines for dinner instead of just two! Afterwards once darkness had settled, we walked the roads again hoping to see snakes and other crawlies, but there was far less on the roads this time compared to last night, with two notable exceptions—a Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae), and a large male Prionus californicus (California prionid—family Cerambycidae), both on the trunks of the massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana) that dot the campground. Perhaps the cooler and more blustery conditions had things hunkering down.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Before turning in for the night, I started to hike the short (0.6 mi) Meadow Nature Trail. I’d made it about halfway around when I decided that hiking the trail on a moonless night by myself was not such a bright idea and turned around. I really got spooked on the way back out when I saw two glowing eyes not far away but breathed a sigh of relief when their owner turned out to be a mule deer, who was equally spooked by my approach and bolted, crashing away through the darkness.
Day 7
I normally dislike mornings that we have to break camp and move on—I’d rather relax for an hour or so and enjoy a cup (or two) of French press coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes. Today was supposed to be such a day, but I negotiated with Rich to delay our departure until mid-morning to give the grassland tiger beetles (Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae) that we saw beginning yesterday’s hike a chance to become active again so I could try for better photographs. The coffee tasted good this morning, and three wild turkeys strutting nonchalantly through our campsite made my leisure hour just that much more enjoyable. Once it warmed up a bit, I went to the corrals where we’d seen them before—nothing! We decided to go ahead and break camp, then go back and check again after we were all packed up—nothing! This was puzzling, since we were there at the time we’d seen them the day before. All I can say is figuring out insects is hard—especially in the West, and if I live to be 100 I don’t think I’ll ever fully figure them out. With that, we said our goodbyes to Dog Canyon—I truly look forward to coming back!
Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo) strolling through our campsite.
It was a long drive between Eddy Co. and our first collecting spot of the day, and we stupidly made it even longer by going all the way back to Roswell to restock on groceries for the coming week. While we were there, we decided to each lunch at a restaurant instead of out of the car—further adding to our travel time (but the burritos from Burrito Express were so good!). The last leg from Roswell to near Mayhill was—like last time—the worst, with temperatures soaring up to 100°F and the landscape providing so very little of interest.
Carr Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico We arrived at about 4:30 pm—still plenty of time to collect and, if we didn’t like what we saw, move on, and we were happy that the higher elevation was providing some temperature relief. We had come to this spot last time based on a prior record of a rather fine buprestid species (Buprestis prospera) from the area, but it was bone dry at the time and we moved on without even getting out of the vehicle. Conditions seemed much better this time, but still I saw no pinyon pine (the larval host) to inspect—and certainly no dead ones to chop into. We were here, however, and decided to give it a shot. I did find a few small dead Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper), but beating them produced only a single Anomoea sp. (likely an incidental association). The scrub oaks (not sure which Quercus species they represent) as well were leafing out nicely, but sweeping them produced only a smattering of Chrysomelidae (leaf beetles), Elateridae (click beetles), and Curculionidae (weevils)—no Buprestidae (jewel beetles) or Cerambycidae (longhorned beetles). A dry creekbed ran through the area, and I noticed rather lush growth of grassy vegetation in and alongside the creekbed. Recalling that I’d swept such growth along the roadside in nearby Mayhill a few years ago and got a series of Taphrocerus schaefferi, I began sweeping. This was much more productive—each sweeping pass produced one or two Taphrocerus (will need to examine closely to determine if they also represent T. schaefferi, also that is likely), and by the time I finished I had a nice little series of around eight individuals. Checking back with Rich, neither he nor I were seeing much else of interest, so we decided to continue on to the next locality near Cloudcroft.
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico The threatening clouds that had just started appearing as we were leaving the previous spot developed into full-blown rain showers as we continued up the mountains to Cloudcroft. Just as quickly as they had come, however, they abated and we arrived to this spot under broken clouds and cool early evening temps. Of all the locations where I had placed traps, my expectations were lowest for this one due to its combination of high elevation (nearly 9000’) and dense, coniferous forests (wine-based baits typically do not attract beetles associated with conifers). I went ahead and placed traps here, however, because 1) I already had several sets at lower elevation woodlands, 2) the presence here of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak)—a high elevation oak that could be hosting a variety of interesting beetle species, and 3) perhaps the ethanol component of the bait might still attract conifer associates. What I found was completely unexpected—all three traps contained several species of Cerambycidae, none of which I immediately recognized to species! The most abundant species appears to be a large, blonde lepturine, and there was also a smaller Stenocorus sp. as well as a few even smaller species that will require closer examination to identify. I was happy to see all three traps not only still hanging, but also with a little bit of bait still in the bottle and the propylene glycol in the reservoirs not completely dried out. This is in contrast to the traps at all the other lower-elevation localities, which exhibited bone-dry bait bottles and little to no propylene glycol remaining in the reservoir. The thought occurred to me that perhaps the reason these traps were so much more productive was because they remained attractive for the entire one-month period following their placement, while traps at other localities dried up after two or three weeks and failed to attract beetles during the latter part of the period—potentially after beetles had begun to appear in numbers. On the other hand, the very different habitats could also easily explain such a difference. As for the traps, expectedly the SRW/EtOH trap had the largest catch volume, the EtOH-only trap had the smallest (though still good numbers and variety of beetles), and the SRW-only trap volume was in between. Sadly, the white bottle trap was not only pulled out of the ground but completely missing—I can only guess that one of the many hikers that pass through the area saw it and couldn’t resist their inner vandal. The lateness of the hour precluded much further collecting, but I noticed a couple of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on flowers of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). Based on locality and their dark coloration, they should represent the subspecies A. c. pseudotsugae—unlike the bright green individuals of the nonimate subspecies found further west in California.
Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
There were lots of other plants of various types in bloom, suggesting that a return to this spot with sunny conditions might be warranted. It also convinced me that I should replace the bottle trap here (using the one I retrieved from Mescalero Sands), given the uniqueness of this locality—I’ll just need to find a more secluded spot to place it.
Upper Karr Canyon Campground Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico During my last visit with Mike, we camped at Lower Karr Canyon Recreation Area on the west side of the mountains below Cloudcroft. It was a nice place to camp but with no table or restroom. This time, Rich and I decided to try Upper Karr Canyon, and boy were we impressed—high elevation (9350’!) with a spacious campground and, most importantly, tables! There were other people in the campground, but everyone was spaced so far apart that it still felt private—at least, until the toddler in the next campsite had a meltdown and woke the infant, who himself then had a meltdown! It was dark by then, so I decided to take a walk to look for night-active critters and hoped that the frazzled parents would manage to get things under control by the time I returned. I saw lots of tenebrionids, of course, but also far more Carabidae (ground beetles) than I typically see out west—perhaps because of the high elevation. Nothing, however, warranted placement in my bottle, so I returned to a (thankfully) quiet campground and admired the amazing starscape in the sky above in the time before the waning gibbous moon began rising in the east.
Becoming acquainted with “aliens” that we encountered this morning in Roswell.
Oenothera flava (yellow evening primrose—family Onagraceae) flowering at night in alpine coniferous forest.
Our tent illuminated beneath the night sky.
Day 8
I was tempted to do a bit of collecting before we broke camp—Cicindela purpurea (pasture tiger beetles) were flitting amongst clay exposures in the campground, and Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper) serenaded us with their snap-crackle-popping flights. We decided instead to break camp anyway and head back to Switchback Trailhead.
Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper—family Acrididae) in alpine coniferous forest.
Mexican Canyon Trestle—the last of 49 such trestles built in 1899 to transport timber from the Sacramento Mountains.
View from Mexican Canyon Overlook. White Sands National Moniment can be seen in the distance.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico After a quick stop at Mexican Canyon Overlook (I actually made it to the far end of the cantilever lookout deck!), we went back to Switchback Trailhead so we could get a better look than allowed by our quick trap check stop the previous evening. This included examining the variety of flowers and sweeping the large patches of mature Gambel oaks in hopes of finding the recently described Brachys rileyi. I also wanted to reset a new bottle trap to replace the one that was stolen, except this time I hid the trap in an exposed area inside a large patch of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). I barely got the trap set when I noticed more Anthaxia on the flowers and collected a nice series of what I now believe are two species—A. (Haplanthaxia) caseyi pseudotsugae (due to its dark coloration) and A. (Melanthaxia) expansa (due to the two pronotal impressions). I went back to the car to get my long-handled net for sweeping the Gambel oak and found nearby a stand of Ratibida columnifera (Mexican hat) with more Anthaxia plus Acmaeoderavariegata on the flowers. Sweeping the Gamble oak was disappointing—no Buprestidae of any kind, much less B. rileyi, but I did collect a small variety of other beetles including a very tiny adult of what must be Neoclytus irroratus. I was about to go back and see if Rich was having any luck when I spotted a large flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry). My long-handled net came in very handy, as I was able to seep the flowers high up out of normal reach. The first tree yielded what I suspect is Agrilaxia arizonae, and after sweeping the four different tree in the area I collected two more adults. I’m not aware of the occurrence of this species east of western New Mexico, so we will have to see how it compares to the very similar species A. texana. The last plant was very close to one of my bait traps (SRW-only bait)—I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peak and was happy to see a lepturine longhorn already in the trap. It was the smaller, darker species that I thought yesterday was a species of Stenocorus, and a little bit of internet sleuthing revealed it to be the very local and uncommonly collected S. copei—a very nice species that I have never collected before! Now I am even more excited about the trap results from this spot and am anxious to see what they trap in the next couple of months. (I also sleuthed the larger yellow species and believe it is Centrodera spurca [yellow Douglas-fir borer]—not an especially rare species, but one that I have never collected and this population representing one that is interestingly disjunct from the main population in the Pacific Coast states.)
Stenocorus copei (family Cerambycidae) taken in sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in Quercus gambelii (Gamble oak) along margin of alpine coniferous forest.
In the meantime, Rich learned from a passing Forest Service worker that a small protected area for the Sacramento Mountains checkerspot butterfly (Euphydryas anicia cloudcrofti), currently proposed for listing on the endangered species list, could be found just up the road. Rich had to promise that we were not interested in collecting the butterflies before the worker agreed to tell him where the caged butterfly food plots were located, so we went up to take a look at them.
Bailey Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico While Rich examined the food plots (he did not see either larvae or adults), I examined the flowers alongside the road, collecting more Acmaeodera variegata and Anthaxia spp. of the flowers of Hymenoxys hoopsii (owlsclaws) and Achillea millefolium (common yarrow).
Acmaeodera variegata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenoxys hoopesii (owlsclaws) in alpine coniferous forest.
There were several additional flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry), but sweeping the flowers produced no additional Agrilaxia. Nothing else sparked our interest, so we then headed to Trestle Depot Recreation Area in nearby Cloudcroft.
Trestle Recreation Area Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico This little picnic spot caught my eye when I was here last month, looking like it might be good for a quick stop and look around. Musk thistle (Carduus nutans) in flower along the roadside may be an exotic invasive plant, but the flowers attracting a variety of butterflies were of immediate interest to Rich. I looked as well to see if there were any beetles on the flowers, but there were not and so went back to the picnic area. Immediately I spotted a freshly dead Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and walked toward it. As I approached, I saw two Buprestis lyrata adults on the trunk—one of which flew off as I spotted them and the other I caught. I checked the trunk carefully to see if there were others, and failing to find any I checked out a nearby cut Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) stump. I suspected, however, that the first one would eventually come back to the tree, and when I returned it was there. It was too high to reach, however, so I found a long dead stick, placed the loop of my net right beneath it, and used the tip of the stick to cause it to drop into the net. I would catch two more adults this way on successive returns to the tree, and while these would be my only specimens from the visit I was quite happy to have found them.
Buprestis lyrata (pink-faced jewel beetle—false Buprestidae) collected on trunk of freshly dead Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas fir) in alpine coniferous forest.
“Point of Sands” Otero County, New Mexico By the time we finished up at Trestle Depot, it was mid-afternoon and I wanted to show Rich “Point of Sands” where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. I’ve collected some very nice Buprestidae associated with Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s joint-fir) on previous visits (Acmaeodera recticollis and Sphaerobothris ulkei), but last month when I visited here with Mike it was bone dry with very little in flight. This time, it was not only bone dry, but also 108°F—seriously! We were here, and I didn’t want to assume that we would find nothing, but for the first 20 minutes it felt like we were walking in an oven. Somehow, I adapted and the heat stopped bothering me, and when I found a male cicada (Diceroprocta eugraphica) singing in an Atriplex canescens (four-wing saltbush) I was motivated to continue looking to see if something else might be out. This was the case, although it was limited to cicadas at the far south end of the stop—a female Hadoa townsendii on the old fruiting stalk of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca), and a female D. eugraphica on A. canescens, both of which cooperated for photos nicely.
Hadoa townsendii (family Cicadidae) on old fruit stem of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca) at edge of white sand dune.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) on Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush) at edge of white sand dune.
Rich had long ago returned to the car to cool off in the air conditioning but then became worried when I went out of view and didn’t return shortly—I’d just started heading back to the car as I saw him coming to look for me! We both decided that we’d had enough of 108°F temperatures and continued on to our next destination, the fantastically beautiful Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument!
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The ascent up into the Organ Mountains is among the most spectacular of any—tall dried stalks of sotol give the slopes a “brushy” appearance in front of sharp, jagged peaks.
Sotol-covered hillsides at lower elevations.
The campground itself is also gorgeous; however, beauty is one thing—the presence of insect activity is another, and the parched-looking, still-quite-warm landscape (though nothing like the oven that we encountered at the previous stop) had us wondering if it would even be worth staying one night, much less the two that we had planned. I suggested spending a little bit of time beating the local vegetation—if I found beetles we would stay, but if not (as I fully expected), we would go back to Upper Karr Canyon to enjoy another night at its high, deliciously cool elevation and then head north in the morning to search for “greener pastures.”
View from our campsite in Aguirre Springs Campground.
I got out the beating sheet and whacked the branch of a nearby hackberry, and to my surprise onto the sheet fell an Agrilus sp. (in fact, I was so surprised that I’d neglected to ready my aspirator and the damn thing got away!). More whacks of the hackberry produced nothing, so I regarded it as a fluke and turned my attention to the gray oaks (Quercus grisea). With one whack, onto the sheet dropped two Sternidius decorus—a species I know only from Arizona, and with continued beating I collected an additional individual or two at regular intervals.
Okay, so it looked like things might be happening here—despite the very dry-looking conditions, and we went about setting up camp. Dusk settled in as we finished our dinner, and I set up not only the ultraviolet lights but also the mercury vapor lamp. To make things interesting, I also set out a prionic acid lure near the lights in case there were any Prionus beetles in the area. It didn’t take long for the first male to show up—a remarkably small P. heroicus, and over the next hour several additional, more normal-sized males showed up.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure near ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
The lights alone also began attracting Cerambycidae as soon as full darkness arrived—many individuals of Methia mormona showed up, but so did other species such as Hypexilis sp. and what I take to be a species of Elaphidiini.
Methia mormona (family Cerambycidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Chrysina gloriosa (glorious jewel scarab—family Scarabaeidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
A female Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) also paid a visit to the lights looking for a free meal (I never saw a female tarantula ever and then see two in five days!).
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) female at night in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Additional cerambycid individuals arrived regularly, and we would have left the lights up longer had occasional gusts and distant lightning not become blustering winds and certain rain. We got the lights taken down and put away with little time to spare, then spent the rest of the night not sleeping while high winds buffeted and heavy rain pelted the tent. (Its a good thing I got a new tent last year—my old one would not have survived!)
Day 9
La Cueva Recreation Area Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico Given the heat we experienced yesterday, we decided to do any lower elevation collecting first thing in the morning and then come back up into the mountains for the afternoon when (hopefully) the higher elevations would provide some relief. Some good species of Buprestidae have been taken by others in the vicinity of La Cueva picnic area on the other side of the mountain range, so we headed down there to take a look.
Backlit, backside peaks!
It was already hot by mid-morning as we headed out on the Arroyo Trail. Conditions were dry, but the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa) had fresh foliage and the whitethorn acacias (Vachellia constricta) even had flowers. Hackberries (Celtis reticulata) were thick along the trail, and large oaks (Q. grisea and Q. turbinella) dotted the arroyo margins. Beating, however, produced nothing—no Buprestidae, no Cerambycidae, not even Chrysomelidae. I didn’t feel like continuing to “beat” a dead horse, especially when temperatures were skyrocketing and the mountains were beckoning, so we cut bait and headed back up the slopes.
La Cueva Recreation Area.
Pine Tree Loop Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The Pine Tree Loop is purported to be a 4-mile loop with 1000 ft of ascent (all within the first two miles!). My main objective was the small leafmining buprestid Brachys rileyi, which is known only from higher elevations in New Mexico and west Texas on Gambel oak (Quercus gambelii), and it was found a few years ago along this very trail. This was not my first attempt to find the species here—I stopped by two years ago guided by that record, which had been placed on the popular citizen scientist platform iNaturalist. Unfortunately, the record was inaccurately placed at a lower elevation (below the Gambel oak zone). I (incorrectly) assumed that the host must have been misidentified and that the species had been collected instead on gray oak (it is not unusual for buprestids thought to be associated with one host to eventually be found on another) and was rather frustrated to later learn that the inaccurate placement was intentional—the beetle had been photographed after it was collected, and because the true location had (amazingly!) not been recorded, the record was instead placed at a random point somewhere near the start of the hike. I must have beaten every oak within 100 feet of that (erroneous) location—obviously without success! I have since found other examples of such “malplacements” on iNaturalist, a practice which I can only describe as sloppy at best, and I implore all iNaturalist users (especially practicing entomologists) to record the most accurate placements for observations of insects photographed later as collected specimens rather than as live individuals out in the field. Obviously, this will involve more detailed note-taking; however, accuracy is, after all, a basic tenet of science! [Now climbing down from my soapbox.]
Greeting at the beginning of the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Okay, so now knowing that the record actually came from the Gambel oak zone on the upper part of the trail, we readied ourselves to hike the trail in its entirety. The scenery grew increasingly spectacular as we ascended, during which time I beat selected trees—mostly Quercus grisea (gray oak), from which I got a lone Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on the lower slopes and a couple of Polycesta arizonica—represented in my collection until now by just a couple of specimens collected many years ago in west Texas—from a bit further up.
Lower Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Polycesta arizonica (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana), both alive and as cadavers, graced the landscape, providing both visual interest and opportunities for shade during our frequent breaks from the hot sun and the relentless ascent.
Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) cadaver along the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Ornate tree lizard (Urosaurus ornatus) on granite exposure in montane juniper/oak:pinyon woodland.
The “Old Man.” Also, an enormous Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) along Pine Tree Loop Trail! 😊
At long last, we reached the Gambel oak zone and I began beating stands near the trail in earnest. Almost immediately I add another Sternidius decorus to the series I’d gotten the previous evening, giving me hope that further beating would bring success. After only a few more minutes, a Brachys landed upside-down on my sheet! I quickly picked it up and popped it into the vial, then turned the vial until I could see the upper side. I was looking for the blue coloration with red apices to confirm its identity as B. rileyi, but instead its uniform coppery color indicated it was B. querci. Until a couple of years ago when I collected a good series of this species in the Davis Mountains of west Texas, I would have been very excited by this capture. Instead, my momentary elation turned to disappointment. Still having collected one species of Brachys gave me hope that I would still find the other, but that would not be the case—continued beating of Gambel oak was fruitless, and even my ability to do that was cut short when a popup thunderstorm moved in and drenched everything (including us!). I will admit that we welcomed the break in temperatures, as the heat and effort from the ascent had by then begun to take its toll on us, but eventually the rain moved out (creating some spectacular views as it moved across the slopes below us), and I resumed my beating.
Rain showers the northern slopes of the Organ Mountains.
For a long time nothing hit my beating sheet (except a shower of water drops, which I had to continually shake off the sheet). Just before we passed back out of the Gambel oak zone after beginning our descent, I got a sort of consolation prize—a large(-ish) sp., and as I was putting the beetle in the vial a Prionus heroicus male flew by and circled slowly back towards me to within net’s reach. Not long after, as I was beating the last of the Gambel oaks that we would see, Rich called out to me from further down on the trail saying he saw another Prionus crawling on the ground and that it had crawled under a dead log. We lifted the log (gray oak), and there she sat—the most enormous gravid female P. heroicus I’d ever seen! I wanted a photo, but she started running so I blocked her with my finger to get her to stay still. This did not work despite repeated attempts, and at one point when I became rather careless with my finger placement she gave me the most painful beetle bite I’ve ever had—bringing blood right on the most sensitive part of my fingertip! I guess giving me a good nip brought her some satisfaction, because after that she stayed put long enough for me to snap the photos I wanted. By this point, we were really feeling the combination of miles, heat, thirst, and hunger and focused on completing the rest of the descent back to the parking area, where we enjoyed a (very) late lunch and cold liquids under a table with shade!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) gravid female under fallen dead trunk of Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico When we got back to the campground, I was so drained that all I wanted to do was rest (and continue rehydrating!). But, I still had the set of jug traps (that I’d taken down from Mescalero Sands) and had decided that the juniper/oak woodland around the campground with large gray oaks could be an interesting place to set them. We’d seen very few people in the area since our arrival (apparently camping in the heat of the summer is not popular here!), but I still wanted to eliminate any chance of the traps being molested so hoofed it past the barbed-wire fence on the west side and bushwhacked across the slope to a line of large gray oaks on the other side of the ravine. The SRW-only trap was placed furthest up the slope, the SRW/EtOH trap in the ravine, and the EtOH-only trap above the ravine nearest the road. On the way back to the campsite, another P. heroicus male flew within net’s reach, which I nabbed and gave to Rich. I also watched a large, orange/black female velvet ant (family Mutillidae) crawling on the ground and soon noticed a male that must have been the same species (smaller but identical coloration) fly in, circle around, and land on the ground not far from the female. I hoped he would encounter her, but when he was within a couple of feet he suddenly took flight and disappeared—perhaps she didn’t smell right or, in fact, was not a conspecific!
Post-rain view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Spotty showers and gusty breezes prevented another night of lighting, but honestly we were both so exhausted from the day that we welcomed the opportunity to relax after dinner and catch up on our field notes.
Day 10
We enjoyed a much more restful night than previously thanks to cooler temperatures and awoke to spectacular views over the valley below. It was hard to think about turning around and heading back to the north and east, but both of us had committed to returning to St. Louis by late Friday—if we were going to keep that commitment we would have to make significant progress today. Our plan was to go back to Black Mesa in the extreme northwestern corner of Oklahoma (where we had been rained out at the beginning of the trip). At about a 7½-hour drive, we would have plenty of time to collect in the area before facing Friday’s 12-hour slog back to St. Louis. I did get a “goodbye gift” before we left—another Polycesta arizonica that was sitting on the tent as we broke camp!
Morning view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Pajarito Rest Stop Roosevelt County, New Mexico At the halfway point of the drive—approaching Tucumcari in east-central New Mexico, we decided to stop at an interstate rest stop for lunch and were pleased to find sheltered picnic tables to enjoy our meal. Afterwards, while exploring the grounds a bit (never pass up an opportunity to look for bugs!), I spotted a lidless white cooler sitting next to the fence along the back edge of the area. I don’t know what I expected to see inside of it, but when I looked I saw standing water in the bottom… and beetles! It was nothing more than a giant bowl trap! We brought the cooler back to the car, poured the contents through a sieve and rinsed before dumping out, and picked out a cerambycid (Strangalia sexnotata), two scarabs (Euphoria kernii), and a few other miscellaneous beetles (but, unfortunately, no Acmaeodera).
“Cooler trap” at Pajarito Rest Area.
Kenton Cimarron County, New Mexico As we continued northward through northeastern New Mexico, we noticed what looked like rainclouds in the distance, and checking the radar forecast showed spot thundershowers moving through the area around Black Mesa. All we could say was “Here we go again!” and spent the remaining few hours of the drive watching the clouds and constantly checking the radar updates trying to predict if rain would actually occur at our planned collecting spot—a sandstone outcropping with juniper/oak/pinyon woodland just east of the tiny town of Kenton. Rain seemed certain as we passed through Clayton—about 30 minutes south and west of Kenton—when we got drenched while making a quick pit stop, but as we neared our destination the clouds started breaking up a bit, even allowing occasional peaks of sunlight. We arrived at the spot at either 5 pm or 6 pm, depending on whether we followed Central or Mountain Time (the time zone boundary passes right through the area), and though it had rained, it was neither cool nor overly wet. I had discovered Prionus heroicus in this area a number of years ago (with the help of prionic acid lures), and given our repeated sightings of this species the previous two days, I set out lures to see if they were active in this area. Almost immediately the males started flying in, easily recognized from afar by their enormous size, peculiar waving of their hind legs while flying, and diesel engine-like sound of their flight!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) males attracted to prionic acid during late afternoon in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I collected a few to document the occurrence, but what I was most interested in doing here was beating the oaks. There are two species here, Quercus × undulata (wavylweaf oak) being the more abundant and Q. mohriana (Mohr oak) represented by sporadic individuals. I had beaten a nice series of Brachys barberi (and one B. aeruginosus) from the former last month and collected a few cerambycid-pruned branches from the latter, but beating on this day produced little. I did, however, note several additional cerambycid-pruned branches on the very same Q. mohriana from which I had collected them last month, which I bundled for rearing, and beating the living branches produced a single Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata.
Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Perhaps an incidental association.)
Also from Q. mohriana, I beat a large, impress caterpillar that I soon decided must be one of the Hemileuca spp. (sheep and buck moths—family Saturniidae). The only species known from the area is H. oliviae (range sheep moth), but it clearly did not look match images of that species, so Rich decided to see if he could rear the caterpillar to adulthood and collected foliage from the tree to provide additional food until it pupated. [Edit: The host, location, and gestalt (especially the reddish dorsal coloration between the segments) suggest it is Hemileuca grotei diana (Grote’s buck moth). Apparently this species has not yet recorded from Oklahoma, but the location in far northwest corner is very close to several Colorado records, and the species also occurs in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Rich also wrote the following update on his attempts to rear the caterpillar to adulthood:
The caterpillar made it home safely. I put the caterpillar in a large jar with cactus soil, and some of the oak leaves I collected off the bush where it was collected. For the next three days, it fed on the leaves at night and left lots of frass behind. During the day, it remained motionless on the dirt. Since last night, the caterpillar has not moved which could mean that it has died or is parasitized. It may also be taking its time to form a pupa. This is what I am hoping for.]
Hemileucagroteidiana (Grote’s buck moth—family Saturniidae) caterpillar beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I continued beating the oaks but found only a few weevils on Q. × undulata before turning back to look around the flats around the parking area. Along the way, I noted a lone Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) along the roadside, from which I beat a single Agrilus. Its chunky size and coppery color had me fooled until I realized it was a stray A. sapindi—normally associated with Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry). I’m not aware of the occurrence of soapberry at this particular spot, but it is common at nearby Black Mesa State Park and likely also occurs in other closer areas.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) beaten from Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Must be an incidental association.)
Checking the flats around the parking area, I found not only Moneilema armatum on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla), but also Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger).
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
After taking photos of the latter, I noticed a large beetle crawling on the ground and realized it was a female P. heroicus—only the second female of this species I’ve seen (the first being only one day earlier at Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument). This brings me to an idea I have about attraction to pheromones in Prionus beetles—released by females (none of which fly to my knowledge) to attract males (which are powerful fliers). The use of prionic acid pheromone lures has greatly facilitated the collection of male Prionus beetles (all species of Prionus appear to be attracted to prionic acid); however, I have also collected females of several species (P. arenarius, P. fissicornis, P. integer, and—now—P. heroicus) while using prionic acid lures to collect male Prionus. In each case, I found the females walking on the ground in the general direction of the lures, suggesting to me that they may be “cheaters”—i.e., rather than producing and releasing their own pheromone, they detect pheromone being released by another female and walk towards the source in hopes of “stealing” a male. If this is true, the energetic cost of producing/releasing pheromone must be sufficiently high to allow cheaters to persist in the population. In today’s case as well, the female was walking in the general direction of the lure from a distance of about 60 meters. It would be interesting to test this hypothesis experimentally (but it will be up to someone else to do this). On the way back to the car, I collected one more M. armatum—this one on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus).
Moneilema armatum (family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Rich came back to the car about the same time, so I checked in with him to see how he had done. He gave me an Acmaeodera (prob. A. mixta/immaculata) that he’d collected on the flower of Pediomelum tenuiflorum (slimflower scurfpea) and wanted to walk back down the gravel road to check for other flowers. I accompanied him, beating oaks along the way without success (but seeing a very impressive Climaciella brunnea—brown wasp mantidfly) until, finally, a B. barberi from Q. mohriana near the bottom of the hill landed on my sheet.
Climaciella brunnea (brown wasp mantidfly—family Mantispidae) beaten from Quercus×undulata (wavyleaf oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
By then it was getting close to dusk, but I hadn’t yet checked the dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) from which I’d beaten two new state records (Oeme rigida deserta and Haplidus testaceus) on my visit here last month. I was keen to see what else might be on the tree a month later and, amazingly, got two more new state records this time as well: Buprestis laeviventris beaten from a branch, and a dead Monochamus clamator clamator (spotted pine sawyer) female stuck on the trunk.
Buprestislaeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. This represents yet another new state record for the area.
Monochamus clamator clamator (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. Two new state records on one tree (again!)?
These would be the last insects that I would collect on the trip, and what a final duo they were! On the way back to the car, I picked up a couple of cerambycid-pruned branches of Q. × undulata that I had set aside earlier for rearing. It will be interesting to see if it is the same species that is pruning the two oak species (Q. × undulata and Q. mohriana). With dusk approaching and us still needing to get to the state park and setup camp, we decided that three hours of collecting at the final spot was a good way to close out 10 straight days of collecting!
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, New Mexico Our “favorite” campsite in the park was unavailable—in fact, the entire West Canyon campground was closed due to installation of a new dump station for the nearby RV campground. As an alternative, we secured a spot at the nearby Lake Etling Campground. I’ve never stayed there because there are no toilets, but the sites are much larger and come with shelters over the picnic tables—something that would have come in handy during my several previous visits with rain. Site #24, in particular—located at the far end of the campground, nestled up against a low cliff, and well out of sight from the rest of the campground, may well now be my new favorite campsite at the park.
Charcoal “fireworks”!
After enjoying a celebratory rib-eye steak dinner, I walked the roads hoping to see night-active beetles. Unfortunately, the same rains that killed the possibility of setting up the lights also apparently kept the beetles holed up, and I saw nothing. It occurred to me then that this was my tenth visit to the park in the past three years, and it has rained on six of those visits! So much for western Oklahoma being a “dry” place!
A final campfire!
Day 11
The drive from Black Mesa to St. Louis was predictably boring and unfulfilling. Normally I would eschew interstates and divided highways in favor of backroads, but at 12 hours even on the quickest route I had to bite the bullet. At least we did not have to get out of the car while the hottest temperatures of the trip (111°F!) settled over us, and the memories of the trip will feed my souls for a long time to come.
The highest temperature of the trip—111°F! Thankfully, this occurred during the drive home!
Welcome to the 13th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering a 20-day insect collecting trip to the southwestern U.S. from June 20 to July 9, 2023. Joining me for the entire trip was Mike Arduser, a hymenopterist specializing in native bees with whom I’ve collected on and off for nearly 40 years! (For those who don’t know, Mike discovered what became the holotype of Acmaeodera chuckbellamyi, a species I described to honor my friend and mentor, the late Chuck Bellamy. That holotype remains the only known representative of the species.)The trip started with three days in the Oklahoma panhandle, where I checked traps that I’d placed a month earlier. We then collected for a couple of days in southern Colorado as we made our way west and spent 10 days collecting across southern Utah and northern Arizona. On our way back east, we spent three days in northern New Mexico and a couple of days in the Texas panhandle before making the long drive back to St. Louis on Day 20.
Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma After an 8-hour drive from St. Louis I was rarin’ to go. Unfortunately, it was blazing hot and humid—so much so that I really wasn’t prepared for it. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and that job was to do the first check on the insect “jug” traps that I set out last month. I hiked down into the canyon and was glad to see the first trap still hanging (I always worry about people molesting my traps, and if the people don’t do it the raccoons will). My happiness quickly turned to dread when I saw how many beetles it had captured—it was literally overflowing with Euphoria flower scarabs (both E. fulgida and E. sepulchralis)! Oh well, I’m out for three weeks and don’t have to be anywhere by anytime, so it’s not a problem however long it takes to count the traps. In addition to Euphoria, traps baited with sweet red wine (SRW) or a 50:50 mixture of SRW and pure ethanol (EtOH) also had a nice variety of Cerambycidae. The trap baited with EtOH only had far fewer Euphoria and Cerambycidae—consistent with what I saw in my trapping study last year in Missouri; however, I was surprised to see the SRW-baited trap perform as well as it did (more Euphoria and only slightly fewer Cerambycidae compared to the mixture). If it continues to perform this well, I may opt to using SRW only for these traps. The most exciting find was Trigonarthris atrata (one of each in the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps)—I’ve never collected this species, and it seems to be relatively uncommon throughout the south-central U.S. where it occurs.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) taken in “jug trap” baited with 50:50 ethanol/sweet red wine in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in gypsum collapsed cave canyon.
Hiking out of the canyon was difficult—the path I chose was almost vertical, especially at the top, and carrying equipment and a net as well made keeping my balance precarious. At least the gypsum rock is very “tacky” and made it easy to get a secure foothold. Lastly, I set a white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie along Raptorsroost Trail above the canyon—hoping it catches Acmaeodera during the next month.
Escobaria vivipara (spinystar cactus—family Cactaceae) in gypsum-red clay shortgrass prairie.
Afterwards we went to the Canyon Campground and set up our camp, cooked some delicious burgers, and drank some beer (tasted so good considering how hot it was). I was, however, simply too exhausted to be motivated enough to setup the lights. Instead, we chilled for awhile before turning in and hoping for lower temperatures (which eventually did come down enough that we were able to get a good night’s sleep).
Calosoma marginale (family Carabidae) on the trunk of a large Juniperus virginiana (eastern red-cedar) greets us at our campsite.
Hexagenia limbata (family Ephemeridae) sub-imago attracted to light in our campground in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Day 2
We awoke to cloudy skies—a bit of a surprise, and as we we taking down camp it actually began to rain a bit. We hadn’t put the rain fly on the tent last night—hoping to maximize circulation because of the heat. I’m glad we didn’t get woken up at 3 am with rain coming down and have to quick put the rain fly over the tent in the middle of the night! After breaking down camp, I checked the Lindgren funnel trap that I placed in the juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest near the camp site the last time I was here and was happy to see it hadn’t been overrun by Euphoria (which I did not count or keep) but did have a few elaphidiines and Neoclytus. The find of the day, however, occurred while we were breaking down camp and I saw what I thought was a Dicerca sp. on the tent. I casually took a photo and then put it in a vial and took a closer look to decide if it was D. lurida or D. obscura. As I was looking at it, I noticed the impunctate pronotal midline and realized that it was not a Dicerca but a Poecilonota, and the shape and size suggested it was P. thureura, a species I had not collected since the first time I found it in 1980! What a fantastic find to start the day.
Poecilonota thureura (family Buprestidae) on my tent in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Gloss Mountain State Park MajorCounty, Oklahoma We were not optimistic as we drove back towards the Gloss Mountains—a thick cloud layer blanketed the sky, and the rain while taking down our campsite had us thinking we might be spending much of the day dodging rain. As we approached the state park, however—its iconic profile looming in the distance as we approached, a patch of sun appeared over the park; a welcome sight along with the much more reasonable temps compared to the oven we dealt with yesterday. Blooms were diverse and plentiful—I’ve never seen this area so much and green, and Mike got to work looking at them in search of bees. I would have loved to have done the same thing (except beetles), but with the business of trap-checking at hand (and six traps the check, at that!) I put my nose down and headed up the slope to the first set of traps near and on the top of the mesa.
“Stairway” up the the top of the mesa.
The SWR trap had suffered wind-throw—some of the beetles were on the ground below the trap; however, it must have happened very recently (not more than a couple days) because the beetles on the ground were still pliable and easily located/counted. Once again the traps were inundated with Euphoria flower scarabs, while Cerambycidae were almost non-existent but did consist of two more Trigonarthris atrata to double my series of this excellent find. The SRW/EtOH trap suffered negligible wind-throw and, like the previous, was inundated with Euphoria with only two Cerambycidae (Neoclytus acuminatus and N. mucronatum). The EtOH trap suffered the worst wind-throw, with a branch falling on it and dumping the entire contents. Again, this must have happened recently because all the beetles on the ground below the trap were still pliable and easily located/counted (again, mostly Euphoria). While I was atop the mesa, I set one white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie near the EtOH trap, and as I was doing this I collected an Onthophagus sp. on the ground in the mixed-grass prairie atop the mesa.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine placed in soapberry/bumelia copse on south slope of gypsum/red clay mesa.
Epicauta immaculata (family Meloidae) on flower Oenethera serrulata (yellow sundrops) on slope of gypsum-capped clay mesa.
Back down on the slope, I encountered Mike, who had collected one Plinthocoelium suaveolens and seen a mating pair on the flowers of Sapindus drummondii; I checked for more periodically throughout the rest of the afternoon and didn’t see any, but I did collect a nice series of Trichodesbibalteatus off the flowers.
Plinthocoelium suaveolenssuaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on flower Sapindus drummondii on clay slope of gypsum-capped mesa.
Back down in the plains below along the south edge of the park, I was disappointed to find that all three jug traps were wind-thrown and completely dumped with no possibility of data collection. Because the only trees in the area are short-statured mesquites, I clipped the traps directly to a branch, but the strong winds were able to “spin” the traps on their hooks. I reset all the traps, and to prevent a repeat of this I looped guide lines through the jug handle in several directions and tied them to the branches. Hopefully next time I’ll be able to collect data from this set of traps.
Jug trap secured with guide lines to prevent wind-throw.
While I was there, I set a white bottle trap in gypsum/clay mixed-grass prairie near the SRW trap, then found several Chrysobothris octocola and Actenodes mendax (new state record?!) and on a wind-thrown branch of Prosopis glandulosa. Back in the parking lot, I checked the mesquite (where many years ago I first found C. octocola and Plionoma suturalis (as new state records) and found several more of each as well as a single Acmaeodera sp. prob. mixta, all on dead branches of Prosopis glandulosa. By this time, I was exhausted and needed to eat something before heading back up the slope to check the soapberry flowers one last time before heading off to our next destination.
Actenodes mendax (family Buprestidae) on branch Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in clay/gypsum mixed-grass prairie.
Chlorochroa osborni (family Pentatomidae) on red clay mixed-grass prairie.
Beaver Dunes Park BeaverCounty, Oklahoma It took about two hours to drive here from Gloss Mountain State Park, and given the amount of time it took to process the traps there it was too late to do the same here. Instead, we got a few supplies in town and enjoyed a spectacular sunset as we setup camp and cooked dinner (ballpark brats!).
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Day 3
We spent a good part of the morning curating specimens and updating our field notes from yesterday, then broke camp and headed out to check the traps. We did notice that temps were cooling rapidly and skies looking more ominous, and as we arrived at the site we began to hear rumblings of thunder. I decided to forge ahead but try to stay close in case the skies opened up. Winds were picking up as I reached the first trap (SRW), but I got it checked quickly as there were few beetles to deal with (but tons of moths!). I was frankly glad to see it was not overwhelmed with Euphoria flower scarabs, which would have meant much more time counting beetles. It had dropped but not spilled, and the bait bottle was laying nearby, and since the reservoir was full I considered the data not compromised. The SRW/EtOH trap was also full of moths, but in this case I dumped the contents into the strainer, reset the trap (still hanging but the bait bottle blown out), and brought the contents back to the car to count in case the skies opened up. It threatened to do so as I was counting, but I used the hatch as a shield (and took advantage of the lights it offered). In this case there were a few more Euphoria, but not the overwhelming numbers seen at the two sites further east— makes me wonder if we are right at the edge of the range for E. fulgida. Cerambycidae included 21 elaphidiines (I’m sure there are 3 or more species involved). After conditions began improving, I retrieved the EtOH trap contents and brought the contents back to the car for sorting/counting. The number of cerambycids was surprising (73—the highest of any trap so far on the trip), given that EtOH traps have consistently shown poorer efficacy during the course of this study. I won’t know whether to be excited about any of the cerambycids until I can do IDs, but again there appear to be at least three or more species involved. Before leaving, I set out a bottle trap for Acmaeodera in open sand dune prairie near a lot of flowers and near the SRW trap. Traps all checked and reset, and the rain, thunder, and lightning continuing to roll, we decided to head west!
Black Mesa State Park & vicinity CimarronCounty, Oklahoma We arrived at Black Mesa State Park mid-afternoon, and with the continued threat of rain we decided to setup camp while conditions were dry rather than waiting until later. Once done, we marveled at the amazing abundance and diversity of wildflowers in bloom—every time I’ve been here before the place has been bone dry! Given this, Mike decided to search for bees around the campground while I worked the traps I had placed in the area last month. There are two sets—one in the park in a canyon filled with hackberry and soapberry, and another north of the park at an interesting sandstone outcrop near Kenton with oaks and pines—unusual for the area! I decided to check the latter because I thought it had the better chance to produce something interesting. Boy, was that an understatement; as soon as I walked up to the SRW trap and looked inside, I saw it—a live Aethecerinus wilsonii walking over the hoards of Euphoria and other insects that had been attracted to the trap! I’ve been looking for this species since forever, and here was a big, beautiful male. I picked it out, dried it off a bit, and set it on a tree branch for a few photographs before getting down to counting the rest of the trap catch. This included 130 Euphoria fulgida (I thought they might be a different species at first, but then I determined that they are simply the western “fuscocyanea” form of the species—clearly I had not reached the western limit of the species at the previous spot!) and 30 elaphidiines. The SRW/EtOH trap was even more loaded with Euphoria and elaphidiines, but as expected the EtOH trap had lower numbers and diversity.
Aethecerinus wilsonii (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
Euphoria fulgida (western “fuscocyanea” form—family Scarabaeidae). In “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
I was hoping I would have enough time to check the last set of traps before it got too late but decided doing so would be cutting things too close. I did decide, however, that I had time to set out the last Lindgren funnel trap in the North Canyon of the park and the last bottle trap at the Scenic Overlook. I placed the bottle trap first in an area with lots of wildflowers (where it will, hopefully, be visible to Acmaeodera visiting the flowers), then bushwhacked to a large cottonwood I’d spotted earlier in the North Canyon. When I reached the tree, I realized a hiking trail passed right by it, which would make the trap too vulnerable to vandals (amazing that, even out in nature, I have to worry about that), plus the understory around the tree was thick with poison ivy. I hiked instead up the canyon to the road and found a large hackberry off the trail where I could hang the trap discretely.
“Bottle” trap for trapping flower-visiting insects such as Acmaeodera (family Buprestidae).
Traps placed, I went back to the campground where Mike and I enjoyed cool temps, a nice warm campfire, and grilled-to-perfection strip steaks while admiring incredible evening skies!
Sunset in West Canyon Campground at Black Mesa State Park.
Enjoying a brew and the campfire at sunset.
Day 4
It rained overnight, but our tent worked to perfection and we slept well under cool nighttime temps. Mike had set out bowl traps at the campground for bees and while doing so encountered a Moneilema armatum mating pair in the flower of Opuntia phaeacantha. I’ve never seen an individual of this or any species of Moneilema in the flower of the host cactus! After breaking camp, we headed out to check the final set of traps, but on the way we stopped at the “Petrified Forest” to see what we might find on the spectacular blaze of wildflowers that the park is sporting right now. I imagine that such a spectacle is unusual for the area and that most years are not like this. Despite the abundance and diversity of bloom, there wasn’t a lot of corresponding insect activity. There are some iNaturalist records of two Tetraopes spp. from this area, but I found very little milkweed along the Bird Haven Trail leading off of the area and no beetles. I suspect it is still too early for them, as the plants that I did find were all very small.
Burnsius communis (common checkered-skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moth—family Erebidae) on flower of Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Back at the “forest” I did find a single Acmaeodera in the mixta/immaculata complex on the flower of Engelmannia peristenia, a Trichiotinus texanus on the flower of Cirsium undulatum, and a rather darkly marked Batyle suturalis on the flower of Thelesperma magnicamporum.
Batyle suturalis (sutured longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
I also got a chuckle when I was photographing one of the petrified logs and Mike just then realized it was not a regular log that I was photographing!
Petrified log.
We then returned to the Canyon Overlook so I could check my traps. The floral diversity atop the overlook was just as amazing as down in the canyon, and as Mike set about searching for bees I got down to the business of checking the last set of traps. I expected results similar to the traps I’d checked last evening, and I was not surprised, with Euphoria fulgida “fuscocyanea” and elaphidiine Cerambycidae forming the bulk of the catch. I did, however, find not only some very interesting mantidflies (Climaciella brunnea) but a few individuals of the Polistes paper wasp species that must serve as the model for the mantidfly. I kept both, as this will be an interesting association to document.
Apiomerus spissipes (family Reduviidae) in flower of Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear) in shortgrass prairie.
Copestylum caudatum (hairy-horned bromeliad fly—family Syrphidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Before leaving the area, we stopped again at the sandstone outcrop north of the park where I’d checked my traps the day before. I didn’t see much going on then, but it had been cool and cloudy and I hoped today’s sunshine and warmer temps would bring out more insect activity. Mike actually did pretty well with bees at the spot, but I found almost nothing—beating the oaks yielded nothing, beating the pines yielded nothing, and beating the junipers yielded nothing. Only when I beat the mesquites did I find a few blister beetles and mesquite bugs (none of which I kept). I did find a single Lycus arizonensis on Asclepias aspera (antelope horn), which I thought seemed way out of range for the species. In fact, it is way out of the normal range (central Texas through New Mexico and Arizona), but another person has already recorded this species on iNaturalist from a location very near to this one. Given the lack of beetle activity (and Mike now satisfied with the bees he had picked up over the past two days in the area), we decided to head north into Colorado on our eventual way to Utah.
Nemognatha nigripennis (family Meloidae) on flower of Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed) in shortgrass prairie.
Trichodes oresterus (family Cleridae) on flower on Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Brachystola magna (plains lubber grasshopper—family Romaleidae).
Vogel Canyon Picnic Area OteroCounty, Colorado The drive north into Colorado and towards Vogel Canyon took us through some quite remote areas, the state line crossing actually occurring on a gravel road. I last came here about ten years ago with Jeff Huether, and I thought it might be a good stop before spending the night on our way to Utah. By now temps were in the 90s and the winds were whipping strongly from the south, so I opted not to use the beating sheet and instead just carried an aerial net. Not long after hiking down the Overlook Trail I saw what I thought was an Eleodes clown beetle crawling on the ground and then doing its characteristic “headstand” when it saw me. I figured I’d take a photo, but as I was doing so I realized it had long antennae—and that it was actually a Moneilema cactus beetle (M. armatum to be precise)! Cactus beetles look very much like clown beetles, which I believe are models that the cactus beetles mimic (the former are noxious, but the latter are not), but I’ve never seen cactus beetles actually mimicking the clown beetles behaviorally! Of course, no amount of coaxing could convince the cactus beetle to resume his headstand mimicry, so I had to be content photographing it clinging to the ground. I believe it came from a patch of Opuntia polyacantha very near where I first saw it, and from that point in I searched not only this plant but also patches of a second species of pricklypear cactus (O. phaeacantha) as well as tree cholla (Cylindropuntia imbricata)—without success! I did note that other iNaturalist records of cactus beetles in southeastern Colorado were later than this date, so it seems it may still be a bit early for them.
As at Black Mesa State Park, I also checked lots and lots of Asclepias latifolia (broadleaved milkweed) for Tetraopes milkweed beetles but saw none (again, it’s probably a bit too early for them). As I was doing this, I noticed Cacama valvata (cactus dodgers) bolting from the chollas whenever I got too close to them, but I did manage to sneak up on one for a photo.
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper chaparral.
Frustratingly, the abundance and diversity of flowers here (the entire area around Oklahoma, Colorado, and Texas seems to have been inundated with rain this year) was void of insect activity—Mike did get some interesting bees at Escobaria cactus flowers, but for me beetle activity was almost zero. After reaching the end of the Overlook Trail and looking at the petroglyphs (disappointing, as vandalism has made it impossible to discern the original etchings), I hiked back along the Canyon Trail and—finally—doubled my beetle count for the spot when I found a Typocerus octonotatus (not at all uncommon) on the flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum! Not much else was seen during the remainder of the hike, save for an Efferia sp. robber fly holding as prey a green lacewing (family Chrysopidae).
Overlook Trail.
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) with chrysopid (green lacewing) prey in juniper chaparral.
Back up at the trailhead, we decided Colorado is not where it’s happening right now and in the morning we’ll head towards Utah. On the way out, we saw a gorgeous Coluber constrictor flaviventris (yellow-bellied racer) crossing the road so stopped to take photographs. It was not very cooperative, but I managed to get a few good (enough) shots of it.
Distant thunderclouds.
Coluber constrictor flaviventris (eastern yellow-bellied racer—family Colubridae) in juniper chaparral.
Rocky Ford, Colorado There weren’t any public land campgrounds in or around Vogel Canyon as far as we could determine, so we hoteled it in Rocky Ford near La Junta a few miles north of the canyon. The High Chaparral Inn was comically small town, and finding something to eat for dinner turned into a major fiasco due to the lateness of the hour. After a fruitless drive north of town and back, we ended up having to sit for half an hour in the parking lot of the Sonic right across the street from the hotel just to get a burger—without a milkshake because the ice cream machine was broken!
High Chaparral Inn—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
Day 5
If last night’s dinner fiasco represented the worst of road tripping, the following morning coffee stop represented the very best. Actually, I’ve found some of the best coffee in the smallest of towns out west, and “The Coffea (not a typo) Shop” had it all—casual atmosphere, fun trinkets, delicious burritos, darling baristas, and most importantly incredible coffee, bold in flavor and brewed strong. It was so good I bought a pound of bulk to bring home with me.
The Coffea Shop—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
The drive west along Hwy 50 later that afternoon was one of the most scenic I’ve ever encountered, and it all started in Cañón City at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. A Tyrannosaurus rex clad in yellow tennis shoes welcomed us to the dinosaur theme that dominates the western U.S. Driving west, we oohed and aahed at every turn as the road followed the twists and turns of the Arkansas River amidst steep canyon walls until eventually we made it over Monarch Pass.
Yellow tennis shoe clad Tyrannosaurus rex—Cañón City, Colorado.
5 mi SE Montrose MontroseCounty, Colorado Last year Rick Westcott sent me label information for an undescribed species in the genus Nanularia—a very unusual location for a genus whose known members reside almost exclusively in California (the exception being the relatively widespread N. brunnea and the enigmatic N. pygmaea, the latter still known only from the unique holotype labeled simply “Texas”).
Eriogonum pelinophilum habitat near Montrose, Colorado.
The specimen was collected in mid-July on Eriogonum pelinophilum (all species in the genus seem to feed exclusively on plants in this genus), but our path to Utah took us right through the city of Montrose so I decided to give it a shot. I’m pretty sure I found the locality (despite the somewhat imprecise label data—“8 km SE Montrose, 1875m”). The spot was small, but the elevation was spot on and—more importantly—there was lots of Eriogonum that seemed to be restricted to just that area. I searched the plants thoroughly, and while I did collect a few leaf beetles (a small series of Saxinus sp. and a single Neochlamisus sp.) and photographed a stunning clearwing moth (Synanthedon polygoni) associated with the plant, I did not see any Nanularia. For now, I’ll file this spot away and keep it in mind for the next time I happen to pass through this area—hopefully around mid-July!
Synanthedon polygoni (buckwheat root borer moth—family Sesiidae) on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
Hyles lineata (white-lined sphinx—family Sphingidae) caterpillar on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
27 mi ENE Gateway MesaCounty, Colorado As we continued in our way west towards Utah, we passed through a spectacular canyon in Colorado’s “mesa country” with towering, jagged red bluffs lining either side of the highway. As we gained elevation and passed over the summit, conditions suddenly seemed greener and we started seeing lots of wildflowers in bloom along the roadsides. This is always a good sign for potential insect collecting, and if even greater interest to me were the stands of Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak) along the fencerows—a good host for buprestid beeltes (Brachys rileyi being the one I’d be most interested in finding). We found a turnout and pulled over to inspect the wildflowers and see what we might find. Mike found bees coming to Penstemon (foxglove), but I did not see beetles of any kind visiting the various flowers present. I then turned my attention to the Gambel’s oak and got out the long-handled net to works the high branches—collecting a nice series of Cyrtolobus treehoppers, Curculio weevils, and other miscellaneous beetles but no buprestids. I also collected a few Curculio weevils off the Cercocarpus (mountain mahogany) trees growing alongside the oaks. By now it was nearly 7 pm, so we continued west with the goal of making it to Gateway and finding lodging.
A very scenic Hwy 141 in western Colorado.
John Brown Canyon MesaCounty, Colorado We had expected to find lodging in the town of Gateway, but it was nothing more than a closed convenience store and a few private residences. Fortunately, we found this spectacular canyon just outside of town with camping allowed.
Mike enjoys a brew while dinner cooks.
Me enjoying our campfire in John Brown Canyon.
A phenomenal night sky!
Hesperumia sulphuraria (sulphur moth—family Geometridae) at light in juniper/pinyon chaparral.
Day 6
We broke camp early and continued west. Once we drove up to the top of the canyon and breached the rim, the morning light gave us a chance to look back and see exactly how spectacular the canyon was where we’d spent the night.
John Brown Canyon—Mesa County, Colorado.
above Hideout Canyon Manti-La Sal National Forest GrandCounty, Utah It was another morning of driving through spectacular canyonlands as we made out way to the next planned locality. Road conditions were tough—it took us an hour and a half to drive the 30 mile distance over incredibly rocky and steep terrain, and in fact we were stopped short just a mile from our destination by a rock ledge drop-off that was a bit too much for my loaded-to-max-capacity Bronco Sport to handle without risk of damage (a full-sized Bronco probably would have had no problem). The habitat, however, was surely what we were looking for—high elevation pinyon pine and juniper woodland, the former tree being the probable host of the recently described Buprestis pinyoni—so we parked the off the road and began to explore.
Pinyon/juniper woodland.
There was—again—a diversity and abundance of bloom for Mike to look for bees and me to look for Acmaeodera, but I first began by beating a dying pinyon (Pinus edulis) and promptly got a small series of Enoclerus sp. Beating other dying and dead pinyons throughout the course of the afternoon would produce more Enoclerus and also several acanthocine longhorned beetles and a Monochamus clamator. Besides the junipers, which produced nothing, the only other truly woody plants were Cercocarpus sp. (mountain mahogany) and what I would later determine to be Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry), the latter producing a single very tiny clerid. Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) were blooming nicely, and after not seeing anything in the blooms at first I eventually started picking up Trichodes ornatus and Acmaeodera bowditchi.
Acmaeodera bowditchi (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Among the diversity of flowering plants present, the only other one that I saw attracting beetles was Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy), from which I picked a few A. bowditchi and also some smaller Acmaeodera (perhaps two species). I did do some beating of living Pinus edulis, not expecting much but alway hopeful, and got only a couple of Dichelonyx sp. scarabs. The collecting was not fast and furious, but I encountered different things with enough frequency to keep me motivated and ended up spending much of the afternoon there. Eventually we decided to leave, having sufficient series of what we’d found and not seeing anything new, and began the long, rocky, bouncy trek out of the wilderness.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Euphydryas sp. (family Nymphalidae) on flower of Tetratneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
On the way towards the last stop, I’d noticed a large Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) along the side of the road with several large, recently-dead branches on the roadside—apparently injured by heavy machinery (perhaps a road scraper). I’d passed it by on the way up, anxious to reach our destination, but I wasn’t about to pass it by on the way out (and it’s fortunate that I stopped). I saw little on the branches at first, but after careful inspection of the trunk (hoping to see Buprestis pinyoni) I noticed several small Enoclerus sp. running rapidly upon it—a sure sign that the tree was the right stage for attracting woodboring beetles. Then I saw it—sitting right on the trunk at a spot I must have looked at before, a nice big Dicerca tenebrosa; not a rare species but one I’ve never collected before. I searched the trunk and all branches again carefully and did not find another, but I did pick up a few of the Enoclerus. My curiosity quenched (and feeling a bit vindicated for wanting to stop), we continued on our way.
Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) on trunk of injured Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Day 7
Our destination last night was Sandthrax Campground. It was a beautiful primitive campground in a gorgeous sandstone canyon lined with large cottonwoods, but it was not what we expected since it lacked pinyon pines—the host of same beetle I was looking for at the previous spot and recorded from this locality in the type series. Perhaps the specimen is mislabeled, or perhaps it was able to fly a long distance and happened to be picked up by an entomologist camping at the campground—who knows! Nevertheless, we had a wonderful campfire after we arrived and enjoyed comfortable sleeping temperatures through the night.
Morning in Sandthrax Campground.
After briefly looking around in the morning and not seeing enough (anything!) of interest to warrant spending time there, we packed up and started making our way to the area around Page, Arizona. It would take all day, as we left open the possibility of stopping anywhere that caught our fancy along the way.
Hog Springs Recreation Area GarfieldCounty, Utah The first such place was Hog Springs Recreation Area, just a few miles down the road. It was a chance to explore up close the stunning red sandstone canyon leading down to the Colorado River as it flowed through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.
Hog Springs Recreation Area.
There was a lot of Sphaeralcea, mostly past bloom but with still enough individual blossoms to make them attractive. Diadasia sp. bees were utilizing the flowers, but did not see any of the Buprestidae or Cerambycidae that utilize Sphaeralcea and that I’d hoped to see.
Diadasia sp. (family Apidae) in flower of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in cottonwood canyon.
I walked up the canyon a ways and saw a Trimerotropispallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper) and a largish and very skittish lizard that I take to be Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard) that let me take only two photos of it (and not very good ones at that) before it scampered up a large cottonwood tree out of view. The lack of insect activity was a bit concerning, especially considering that our previous location also had little to offer, so we continued our way with hopes of better collecting ahead.
Canyon Trail—Hog Springs Recreation Area.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on sandstone in cottonwood canyon.
Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard—family Phrynosomatidae) in cottonwood canyon.
We passed through some of the most amazing canyon scenery that either one of us had ever seen on our way down through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area to a raging Colorado River. I’ve visited southern Utah briefly before and knew that the landscape was incredible, but what we saw today was otherworldly!
Hwy 95 passes through spectacular canyons.
After climbing back up on the other side we reached pinyon/juniper woodland, and it became increasingly impossible for me to resist stopping every time I saw a pinyon pine with light green to brown needles—meaning the tree was dying or had recently died and was, thus, ripe for infestation by woodboring beetles!
Harmony Flat San JuanCounty, Utah We finally decided to stop in an area called Harmony Flat, where we saw not only scattered dead trees within the woodland but also low roadcuts boasting a bit of floral bloom. I looked at the blooms first, hoping that at this higher elevation I might see species of Acmaeodera on the flowers, but none were seen (nor were beetles of any kind for that matter—only bees, which Mike did find of interest!).
Dianthidium (Dianthidium) sp. (family Megachilidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
Diadasia diminuta complex (globemallow chimney bees—family Apidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
I turned my attention to checking out some of the dead/dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pibe) in the area. The first one I approached had a big, recently wind-thrown branch lying underneath an otherwise healthy tree, and when I started inspecting it I quickly found a Chrysobothris sp. on one of the branches. More careful inspection of the entire branch failed to turn up any additional individuals, so I turned my attention to an older dead branch lying underneath the more recently fallen one. I did not expect to see beetles in the branch, but I thought maybe there would be some still inside of it and used my knife to cut into the wood and hopefully follow galleries to their still-resident inhabitant. Very quickly I found a small Pogonocherus sp. in its pupal chamber—a fresh and perfectly formed adult but not yet emerged from the wood. Sadly, the only other beetle I found within the wood was a dead Chrysobothris sp. that had successfully pupated and neared adult emergence but then died before completing such. I searched for additional dead/dying pinyon pines but encountered fencing that prevented me from reaching those that I could see until spotting another one (living but with a few dying branches) near where I’d parked the car—along the way collecting a Cryptocephalus sp. that dropped off of an Artemisa sp. (sagebrush) as I approached. The dying branches produced only Enocleruslecontei, a small series of which I collected. Finally, after checking in with Mike, who was having decent luck collecting bees off the blooms along the roadside, I spotted one fairly large dying pinyon line in the distance and went to sample it. The tree itself produced only more E. lecontei, which I did not feel the need to collect more of, but then I noticed a largish branch that had broken off earlier and seemed to be in perfect condition for attracting woodboring beetle adults. This was born out when I collected first one and then another Chrysobothris sp. (not the same species as the previous individual) on the main branch portion. Having spent a good hour at the site, and still needing to reach an area with cellular service to contact Paul Kaufman—another collector planning to meet up with us, we decided to continue on ahead.
Chrysobothris sp. (family Buprestidae) on branch dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Enoclerus lecontei (blackbellied clerid—family Cleridae) beaten from branch of dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive toward Page, Arizona took us off the plateau and down Moki Doug Way Grade—a terrifyingly steep but incredibly scenic drop into the lowlands below.
Moki Doug Way Grade.
Approaching Mexican Hat, we finally got into cellular service and heard from Paul, who had just passed through town and was approaching the grade (we apparently crossed paths shortly after coming down the grade). We made arrangements to meet and then caravanned to our next planned stop to look for a tiny buprestid species called Acmaeodera navajo.
8 mi E Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona Conditions were incredibly windy, and while Mike did find a few bees there were no beetles of interest (or even not of interest!). There was Sphaeralcea (globe mallow) in bloom (a known flower host for A. navajo), though it was a bit past its prime, and I hoped the lack of almost any insect activity was not a bad omen for the area. Fortunately I had other localities recorded for finding this species, so we packed up and moved onto the next one.
Near Page, Arizona.
15 mi S Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona The area east of Page not producing any of the Acmaeodera navajo I had hoped to find, we next came to this spot south of town. It was more of the same, however, with brutal winds and no beetles of interest despite the presence of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in bloom. I did find Trirhabdanitidicollis on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush), a few of which I collected.
Trirhabda nitidicollis (rabbitbrush leaf beetle—family Chrysomelidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While I was photographing the beetle, a diminutive Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue) flitted around and landed on the plant. I managed to photograph it (but missed the focus!).
Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue—family Lycaenidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Since it seemed not much was happening in the area, the three of us discussed our options for what to do next. We considered skipping the other localities I had recorded for the area and just driving on to the area north of Kanab where we planned to collect next. However, it would be approaching dark when we arrived (not fun setting up camp in the dark), so we opted to hotel it in Page instead. Since the other planned localities in the area were outside of town and on the way to Kanab, we could check them in the morning and move on if nothing was happening. Driving into town towards our hotel, we happened upon a restaurant called “Gone West” and were pleasantly surprised at the delicious amber ale on draft, excellent fish and chips, and live music covering some pretty cool songs—most with a bit of an electric guitar bent (much to my liking!).
Day 8
Hwy 89 at State Line CoconinoCounty, Arizona We awoke to calm conditions with no trace of the battering winds we experienced yesterday, and after coffee, a bite to eat, and stocking up on provisions we navigated to another locality west of town where Acmaeodera navajo has been collected (right at the state line between Arizona and Utah).
Arizona/Utah State Line.
Literature records indicate that adults are attracted to flowers of Sphaeralcea, Linum, and Opuntia, and we quickly began finding blooming plants of the first two. Almost immediately we began finding Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata—a species I’ve collected only sparingly before, on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, and after a bit of time I finally found my first A. navajo(!) on the same along with an occasional A. immaculata on. On the south part of the loop (up one side of the road and down the other), there were scattered plants of Helianthus ambigua, on the flowers of which we found a few individuals of the same three species. By the time I finished the loop, I wasn’t quite satisfied with the sparing numbers of specimens I had collected, especially of A. navajo, so I did another loop. During this time, insect activity had picked up considerably, and I collected more than enough of all three species for my needs.
Acmaeodera navajo (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow).
Acmaeodera immaculata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
I also took the chance to cross the state line so I could label some specimens from Utah (Kane Co.), collecting a few A. pubiventris lanata and a single A. navajo on flowers of S. grossulariifolia.
I think we probably arrived at the spot just as the insects were starting to become active (~10 am), and over the course of the next two hours their activity really picked up. At any rate, full collecting bottles has a way of replenishing enthusiasm for the hunt, and we headed towards the next spot full of optimism about our chances of success. POSTSCRIPT: Mike found a live male Prionus sp. in the door-well of our vehicle. I doubt that it is really from this locality, but rather that it flew into the car at a previous site a result of being attracted to residual prionic acid from lures that I have had previously. For now I will place it with this locality but reassess which of the previous localities it might have come from after identification of the species.
23 mi NW Page KaneCounty, Utah There exists a very old record of Nanularia brunnea in the University of California—Davis collection from this locality. It is a species I’ve never collected, despite living for five years in California—part of the range of this, the most widespread and commonly encountered species in the genus. I was heartened to see its host plant—Eriogonum inflatum—as soon as I got out of the vehicle, and the plant appeared to be common along a sandy 2-track paralleling the highway. Paul walked one way and I walked the other, and almost immediately Paul came back showing me something he’d collected on the stem of one of the plants—it was, indeed, N. brunnea! My motivation now sky high, we continued to look at the plants while working our way west along the highway. At one point, the stand thinned out and confined itself to just along the 2-track, so Paul continued west and I turned around to re-examine the more extensive stand of plants. As it turned out, I should have been more patient and continued along with Paul, as he eventually found three more individuals while I found none. He offered to let me have one, but I was determined to see and collect the species for myself, so I returned to the area where he had seen them and eventually found it for myself. I found three individuals—one crawling along the bottom of a low branch of the plant and two more sitting on the stem just below the lowest branch point (the latter also dropping as soon as I saw them but, fortunately, seen on and recovered from the ground). Paul was happy that I’d succeeded (not only was it my target for the site, but it also meant that he didn’t have to give me one of his specimens!). It may have taken well over two hours for me to find the first individual, but the time spent searching up to that point was not fruitless—also present and blooming at the site was Sphaeralcea ambigua, and on its flowers I found occasional individuals of the three species of Acmaeodera I’d collected at the previous spot (A. navajo, A. pubiventris lanata, and A. immaculata). Also present on the Sphaeralcea were a few individuals of Amannus sp. (pectoralis or vittiger), neither of which I’ve ever collected before. In this regard, I was able to repay Paul the favor, as he had not seen this species while we were there. I offered to give him one of mine for another specimen of Nanularia, a deal he readily accepted! A small series of my target for this spot now in the bottle, we set our sites on the next location and next target species.
Amannus sp. (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea ambigua (apricot globemallow).
Kitchen Corral Wash Rd Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument Kane County, Utah Another target species for the trip is Chrysobothris nelsoni, a species associated with Eriogonum and described from various localities in southern Utah but mostly near the Coral Pink Sand Dune system near Kanab. We plan to visit that area eventually, but part of the type series was collected at this spot, which was not too far out of the way as we continued west, and given the success we’ve already had today and that we still had a good amount of daylight left before reaching Kanab, I decided to give the area a look. It was a long drive over sometimes rough, sometimes sandy roads to reach the location, but the scenery of carved canyons was just spectacular!
Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.
The pinyon/juniper woodland had some small “dune-ish” areas of sand within it, but I didn’t encounter any Eriogonum plants or any of the more extensive sand areas that I expected would be needed to support stands of the plant. As I searched the area, I didn’t encounter many flowering plants, but I did see a couple of Opuntia aurea in bloom (yellow form) and collected Trichodes ornatus and a few of the hoards of nitidulids that congregate in the flowers of plants this genus, and I also found a single Acmaeodera diffusa on the flower of a lone blooming Sphaeralcea parvifolia plant. Beating was only somewhat more productive—just one Dichelonyx sp. and a curculionoid were found while beating the branches of living Pinus edulis; however, I did find a few Chrysobothris spp. on a dead P. edulis—two smaller ones that may be C. cuprascens beating one of the branches and a larger one of the “sculptured group” on the trunk itself. Ever on the lookout for Buprestis pinyoni, I spotted a largish P. edulis cadaver with Buprestis-sized emergence holes in one of the remaining large branches and began chopping into the branch in hopes of finding a Buprestis cadaver. I didn’t find an intact cadaver, but I did find a single Buprestis sp. elytron fragment in the branch and collected it hoping I will be able to determine the species. Mike found a variety of bees, but he was most excited about a pollen-collecting wasp in the genus Pseudomasaris that he had collected from the flowers of Lupinus sp. I remembered this as I later walked by the plant and saw a large wasp fly from it out of the corner of my eye, instinctively swinging my net and remarkably capturing another individual that Mike was happy to have.
Vanessa sp. (family Nymphalidae) on Sphaeralcea sp.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While the small dune areas did not produce C. nelsoni or the Eriogonum plants they feed on, we did find a couple of nice large Eleodes beetles, one E. obscura sulcipennis and one E. caudifera, crawling across the sand.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive back out through the canyon was just as spectacular as the drive in, but this time we had an added obstacle to contend with—an angry bovine! We came upon the big, black bull standing in the middle road, and he very clearly took our approaching vehicle as a challenge! We tried slowly moving to the far side of the road, but he moved as well to block us—tail twitching as he continued to stare us down! All we could do was wait until he got bored enough and slowly strolled off the road and into the brush, at which time we gunned it a bit going through in case he changed his mind and wished to resume the stand off!
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Mike and I had planned to camp in Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, but Paul mentioned a BLM (Burrau of Land Management) campground north of the state park that sounded like a much better option—not only was it less likely to be a crowded, RV parking lot, but we would be able to collect insects with no permit requirements. When we arrived at the campground, our expectations were not only met but greatly exceeded! It was a beautiful campground, with widely spaced sites located within a grove of large, stately ponderosa pines (hence the name).
Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Our campsite sign—note the tiger beetle!
After setting up camp and cooking dinner (steak!), I opted to gather firewood instead of setting up my lights as temperatures were already tumbling below the threshold for longhorned beetles. Paul, however, decided to set up his lights anyway (both ultraviolet and mercury vapor), and I’m glad he did—a nice number of Polyphylla uteana came to the lights, more than enough for both he and I to each collect a small series for our collections.
Sunset at our campsite.
Venus shines brightly in the western evening sky.
Day 9
Hancock Rd Kane County, Utah Sleeping temps were delicious last night, and the crisp air made made the morning coffee routine especially enjoyable. I had two targets for this general area—Chrysobothris nelsoni and Xylotrechus rameyi, both described recently from nearby localities by my friend and fellow coleopterophile Ron Alten. Ron had given me some locations and tips for finding the two species, and my plan for the day was to visit the various localities and hope that my combination of timing and experience would yield success. This was the first of the localities I had marked for C. nelsoni, but from the start it didn’t feel “right”—pinyon/juniper woodland with little of the open sand that seemed needed for stands of Eriogonum host plants. Nevertheless, one never knows what else they might find as they explore an area, so we gave the area a good look. There was Sphaeralcea present, but all of it was past bloom and yielded no beetles. I also found some recently windthrown branches of juniper that I hoped might yield woodboring beetles, but again none were found. The only beetle I did find was a small tenebrionid walking in the sand. Fortunately, I was able to get ahold of Ron by phone, who advised me to go closer to the dunes—not in the state park, but in the BLM lands north of the park. I should have guessed this would be the case and thanked Ron for his help, then headed back to the west a few miles where we had seen the dunes approaching the highway.
Habitat along Hancock Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah The northernmost extent of the sand dunes cross the highway at this location, so we decided to stop here to see if we could find the Eriogonum host for Chrysobothris nelsoni—and find it we did (the host, not the beetle). In fact, not only was E. alatum, the recorded host for the species, abundant, but there were several other species of Eriogonum present as well. I spent quite a bit of time in the dunes searching the Eriogonum, focusing on E. alatum but also paying attention to the other species I was seeing (especially E. inflatum, a known host for other buprestids such as Nanularia brunnea), but no amount of searching turned up the beetle. I began to wonder if I was too late—most records of the species are from May and it was now the end of June. I also wondered if I had the proper search image—Ron had told me that the beetles would be on the basal leaves rather than up on the stems. Could they be underneath? I lifted the leaves on several plants as I looked, but this slowed things down considerably. After over an hour on the dunes without success I decided to check back in with the other guys and worked my way back to the roadside.
Sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
As I walked toward the car, I noticed Sphaeralcea parvifolia blooming abundantly along the roadside in a stretch of pinyon juniper woodland and collected a number of Acmaeodera diffusa on the flowers. Back at the vehicles, Mike was busy collecting bees from flowers in a small wet meadow surrounded by the dunes—I swept through the meadow thinking there may be sedges off which I might find Taphrocerus, but all I found was a single A. diffusa and a curculionoid. Mike had, however, found a single Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius in the nearby sand dunes; so I spent a bit of time searching the same in hopes of finding more. None were found, however—a few miscellaneous beetles being the only things I collected off the flowers. When I returned to the vehicles, I encountered Paul taking shelter under the shade of a large ponderosa pine at the edge of the dune—he also had had no success finding C. nelsoni, and our hopes of finding the species dimmed further.
Satyrium behrii (Behr’s hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium in sand dune habitat.
Before heading to potential localities for our next target, I wanted to stop at a roadside pull off along Hancock Rd that looked like it could be interesting—pinyon/juniper woodland at the edge of the dunes and bordering open sagebrush chaparral. I thought more insects might be out compared to this morning at the first stop. Unfortunately, the results were similar, with not much in bloom although I did find a few Acmaeodera diffusa and one Meloidae on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius—one of the few flowering plants we found in the area.
Undetermined blister beetle (family Meloidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in sand dune habitat.
5 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah Having failed in our attempt to find Chrysobothris nelsoni, we turned our attention to another target we had for the area, Xylotrechus rameyi—also described by Ron Alten with the type and paratypes taken at several nearby localities. This was one of them, and the grove of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) which the paratype series had been collected on amidst the pinyon/juniper stands dominating the area confirmed that we were at the right spot. I spent a fair bit of time beating the lower branches of the oaks—without success, and Paul also had no success beating the oaks on the other side of the small turn off from the highway. For awhile I turned my attention to the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fineleaf woollywhite) that were abundant in the area, collecting a few Acmaeodera diffusa from them, but eventually I turned my attention back to the oaks to give X. rameyi another shot by using the tropics net to better sample the higher branches that I hadn’t reached with the beating sheet. This yielded a single Agrilus sp. and a few other miscellaneous insects but still no X. rameyi. As I was sweeping the oaks with the tropics net, I encountered a pretty little pricklypear cactus in bloom that proved to be Opuntia aurea, off which I collected more A. diffusa. By now we’d been in the field all day and were feeling a bit exhausted, and failing to find either of our desired targets further decreased motivation, so we decided to make an ice run into town and take another shot at X. rameyi at the nearby type locality just outside of town.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
2 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah The type of Xylotrechus rameyi was reared from infested Acer negundo (boxelder maple) collected at this site, so we came here to look for boxelders that might be harboring adults of the species. Unfortunately, no boxelder trees were found anywhere in the area—in fact, the only trees of any kind that were seen was a few Populus fremontii (Fremont’s cottonwood). Failing to find any boxelder, I started looking for other flowering plants, but none were found except an isolated stand of Asclepias speciosa hosting a few large scoliid wasps, which I collected and gave to Mike. We decided to travel further down the river to try to see if boxelder occurred elsewhere but soon encountered a private property sign preventing further progress. By now it was getting late enough that we decided to head back to the campground to process the day’s catch and prepare dinner. It seemed the day would end without success on either of the day’s targets.
Habitat along Elephant Gap Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah When we got back to the campground, I looked at the dunes across the road and felt like I had to give Chrysobothris nelsoni one more shot. The season for it may have been late, but I reasoned that sooner or later I was bound to run into a straggler. If nothing else, I could cut into dead plants from the previous season in hopes of finding a reasonably intact cadaver from an adult that had failed to emerge this year.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Área—Kane Co., Utah.
As I was walking the dunes I collected a few bees on yellow form flowers of Opuntia aurea to give to Mike and continued looking (admittedly rather casually) at the Eriogonum alatum host plants dotting the dunes.
Scabrethia scabra (Badlands mule-ears) in sand dune habitat.
I’d been on the dunes for a while when suddenly the phone range—it was Ron Alten asking if I’d been successful in finding C. nelsoni after we’d talked in the morning. I confessed that I had not but took the moment to verify with him that I was looking at the correct host plant. He described it as a tall, single-stemmed, plant with a branching inflorescence and a basal rosette of elongated leaves. This increased my confidence that I was looking at the correct plants, and to confirm this I walked up to one of the plants to describe it to him. We had just begun discussing where on the plant the beetles occur when I looked at the basal rosette of leaves of the plant I’d walked up to, and there it was sitting right there—a bright metallic green beetle that clearly had to be C. nelsoni! I yelled out “I’ve got it!” and described it to Ron to assure him that I had, indeed, found the species, and then we marveled at the irony of finding my first individual at the very moment I was on the phone with the person who described it telling me how to find it!
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Success now in hand, I thanked Ron for his help and for checking back with me (I may have given up without finding the species had he not called me back) and continued my now much more deliberate search of other plants in the area. It would take another hour to find the second adult—again, sitting down on the basal rosette of leaves, but in the meantime I pulled several dead plants and found evidence of the larval workings in the crown of the plant.
Split plant view of damage by larvae of Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) in taproot of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
After finding the second individual, I reasoned that the setting sun made the prospect of finding additional individuals too low to warrant continuing the search and started heading back to the campground (anxious as heck to tell Paul and Mike the news!). Along the way, I found another Eleodes caudifera—apparently a male based on its highly elongated apical elytral projections—walking across sand.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) taken in sand dune habitat.
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Paul elected not to set up his lights at the campground, but rather bring them to the dunes across the road. The brightening moon and rapidly cooling evening temperatures, however, killed any desire I may have had to do the same. Instead, Mike and I chose to enjoy a few brews and dine on bratwurst cooked over an open flame while admiring the brightly moonlit western sky with its marvelous views of Venus and the Big Dipper. The next morning I found an Asemum sp. cerambycid dead on the floor inside my tent—apparently it had flown in the night before (perhaps following my flashlight) and then gotten stepped on.
The Big Dipper and the North Star a stand out in the night sky.
Day 10
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah Paul had planned to head back to Phoenix this morning while Mike and I headed further west. However, given my success late yesterday in finding Chrysobothris nelsoni still out we decided to spend a bit more time this morning to see if we could get some specimens for Paul and a few more for me. We broke down camp to give more time for temperatures to warm and the beetles to become active, then walked back over to the dunes across the road. After a quick tutorial session on what the plants look like and where the beetles could be found, we split up and checked plants in different areas of the dunes. It took an hour before I found the first adult of the day—sitting on the basal rosette of leaves just as both of the adults I encountered yesterday were doing. After another half-hour I saw an adult fly from a plant I was approaching, but I was able to chase it down and net it before it escaped. The last beetle I would see during the morning almost escaped as well, but I was able to secure it from its perch in the basal rosette of leaves. With three more specimens in hand, I decided that I had an acceptable series of adults and headed back to the campground, and when I got there Mike told me that Paul also had been successful (finding five individuals!) and had already left for Phoenix. Mission accomplished, we began what would be a mostly driving day to eventually reach Leeds Creek Canyon near St. George in far southwestern Utah.
Litaneutria sp. (ground mantis—family Mantidae) in sand dune.
Morsea sp. (monkey grasshoppers—family Eumastacidae) in sand dune.
Tradescantia occidentalis (prairie spiderwort, western—family Commelinaceae) in sand dune habitat.
The day was one of the most spectacular “transfer” days I’ve ever had on a collecting trip—our route took us right through the heart of Zion National Park! I knew of Zion’s reputation as one of Utah’s most stunning of national parks, but I really wasn’t prepared for just how stunning it is—massively expansive canyons etched in multicolored sandstone with jagged peaks and ridges. Every turn of the bend revealed a more spectacular vista then the previous, culminating in a precipitous drop down through the western canyon. Part of me wanted to stop at every turn and take a photograph, but I knew this would radically increase our travel time as I was constantly seeing sights more beautiful than the previous. I decided instead to wait until I came here again—as my wife and I have talked about—and do proper photography on a proper visit.
Leeds Canyon Washington County, Utah If leaving Zion felt like an end to the stunning vistas for the day, arriving at Leeds and making our way up the rough, rocky road into the canyon above was an unexpected surprise. Dry chaparral at the bottom gradually transitioned to pinyon/juniper woodland, with Gambel oak appearing at even higher elevations and eventually ponderosa pine forest once we surpassed 6000’ elevation. It was a Thursday before a holiday weekend, so we were a bit apprehensive about whether the campground at the top of the canyon would have any available spots and then pleasantly surprised to find it virtually empty with our choice of any spot. We chose one at the very back of the campground— well isolated from other sites, should they eventually become occupied, and with a stunning view through towering pines framing the canyon peaks towering above at heights of 10,000’.
View from our campsite at Oak Grove Campground—Leeds Canyon, Utah
The cool, moist air with low-hanging clouds belied recent rain and the likelihood of more on the way, but having been in the vehicle much of the day we were anxious to begin collecting and opted to explore rather than first setting up camp. I began by beat-sampling the living branches of the different trees around the campground but found nothing other than a few Elateridae on Pinus ponderosa, Quercus gambelii, and Cercocarpus ledifolius and a crabronid wasp inspecting holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa (maybe looking for potential nesting sites, or perhaps hunting?).
Trypoxylon sp. (family Crabronidae) inspects holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa for potential nesting sites.
We began hiking a trail off the west end of the campground, where we passed an enormous ponderosa pine—it’s crown damaged by lightning many years ago and a secondary leader taking its place, near which I encountered a pricklypear cactus with a couple of blooms of the brightest pink I’d ever seen. This proved to be the pink form Opuntia aurea (I’d seen the yellow form of this species yesterday near Coral Pink Sand Dunes), and nestled down in the flowers—apparently already a bedded down for the evening—was Acmaeodera diffusa.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
It was then that we felt the first raindrops, so we decided we’d better go back to the site and set up camp—lest we found ourselves doing it later in the rain, but as we hustled back the raindrops became larger and began falling with great intensity. Whipping winds soon accompanied the rain, making setting up the tent a real challenge, but we were able to setup the tent and bring our things inside—including our chairs for a place to hang out—before the heavy rain began. Curiously, the heavy rain never materialized, and quickly enough the winds as well subsided. As a bonus, the previous occupants had left some uncut bolts of mountain mahogany—completely dry and ready to burn if one was willing to cut them up. I did exactly that (it was some of the hardest wood I’ve ever encountered!), allowing us to enjoy yet another campfire on a cool mountain evening.
Mesmerizing campfire.
Day 11
We came to the canyon above Leeds based on the recommendation of Denanthony Fernandez. Denanthony and I have never met, but we’ve corresponded some and I know him to be an indefatigable collector of Buprestidae and Cerambycidae in the southwestern U.S. Denanthony was also kind enough to send GPS coordinates for some of the spots where he has collected within the canyon, ranging from pinyon/juniper woodland at the lower elevations to ponderosa pine and Gambel oak forest at the top. We decided to try the lower elevations first and then, depending on how successful we were, work our way up to the higher elevations. The first spot coincided with a creek crossing (it was gushing with water!) where we found a place to park and then started exploring. Immediately I found Acmaeodera bowditchi on the flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, but it was apparently an isolated plant and no other plants in bloom were found. I soon got distracted photographing a small lizard, while Mike started examining stands of a white-flowered shrub lining the roadway for bees. I began examining it as well, at first finding only several galerucine leaf beetles on its foliage.
Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Galerucine leaf beetle (family Chrysomelidae) on foliage of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Callophrys gryneus siva (Siva’s juniper hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually, however, Mike saw an Acmaeodera fly to one of its flowers, and when we started watching the plants more could be seen. We quickly realized that the plant was Eriodictyon angustifolium—the precise plant that Denanthony had mentioned as hosting a variety of Acmaeodera in the area. The beetles were sporadic at first and never really became abundant, but after some amount of time I had collected a decent series of what turned out to be A. angelica as well as one or two specimens each of A. bowditchi, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata on its flowers. While I was doing this, Mike wandered off and found a well-maintained little trail but reported only a single blooming pricklypear cactus off which he’d collected a few bees and a single A. diffusa. I decided to see if I could find it and bushwhacked in the direction he’d come from, encountering not one but several Opuntia woodsii with its salmon-colored flowers and collecting both A. diffusa and A. ligulata on them.
Opuntia woodsii (Woods’ pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
I decided to follow the trail to look for more pricklypear cactuses in bloom but had little luck. Beating was fruitless as I walked the trail, but eventually I saw a small creek from the trail (with the promise of plants in bloom) and found a spur in the trail that led me down to it. Creekside I found a few large patches of Psoralia tenuifolia actively visited by bees (collecting a few for Mike) but nothing else. However, in the other side of the creek (near an old historic kiln) I found several Heliomeris multiflora in bloom with A. bowditchi and bee on its flowers.
Historic kiln.
Heliomeris multiflora (showy goldeneye—family Asteraceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Frasera albomarginata (desert green gentian—family Gentianaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The spur ended at the kiln, but a foot trail continued through the woodland, which I followed hoping to find more plants in bloom. This resulted in limited success—I found single flowering individual of Cylindropuntia whipplei, off the flowers of which I collected a few A. quadrivittatoides, and Opuntia camanchica, off which I collected a single A. bowditchi (and a bee for Mike). At this point I decided we’d sampled this spot well enough and turned around to find Mike and head for the next spot up the road.
Cylindropuntia whipplei (whipple cholla—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Just one-half mile further up the canyon from the previous stop, we could already see the activity on the flowers of pricklypear cactus along the roadside as we drove up and parked. The first of such we approached was Opuntia woodsii, with its sumptuously salmon-colored blooms, and on this plant alone I collected several species of Acmaeodera including A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides from its flowers. Several blooming Opuntia camanchica—its flowers brighter yellow with salmon-colored centers—were growing nearby and attracting Acmaeodera in droves, and over the next hour or so I collected good series of the same species I’d collected from O. woodsii.
Acmaeodera bowditchi, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually I tired of finding more of the same on these two species of pricklypear cactus flowers and began looking for other flowers that may be harboring Acmaeodera. They were few and far between, but I did find a couple of Penstemon palmeri still in bloom (most seemed well past), one of which had a single A. ligulata on its flower, and a small area with a few Psoralea tenuiflora in bloom produced but a single Acmaeodera sp. (I could not decide at the time if it represented the common A. rubronotata or a small individual of the localized target A. knowltoni). As I searched, a male Okanagana utahensis singing in a nearby Quercus turbinella caught my attention, and I was able to sneak up on it and locate it. I noticed another individual nearby—a female attracted to the call in presumed—and after photographing it managed to capture the male (but not the female).
Okanagana sp. poss. utahensis (sagebrush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing in pinyon/juniper woodland.
By now I’d had enough of pricklypear cactus Acmaeodera, and Mike and I decided we had enough time in the day to try one more lower elevation spot—this one another mile or so up the canyon road.
We noticed oaks had become more abundant amongst the pinyons and junipers as we found a place to pull off the road, and almost immediately after getting out of the vehicle I noticed Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming much more abundantly along the road than the more spent-looking plants at the first stop that morning. Even before I had gotten ready, I saw an Acmaeodera ligulata and an A. pubiventris lanata on flowers of the plant closest to me—I managed to capture the former, but the latter eluded me (and of course I never saw another at that stop!), and I eventually collected good series of A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also collected a few non-buprestid beetles on the E. angustifolium flowers, including a red/black Saxinus sp. and a red/black Trichodes ornatus. Penstemon palmeri was in better bloom here, and I collected one Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers and a single Elateridae on Artimisia sp. (sagebrush). A bit further up the road Mike had found an even more robust stand of E. angustifolium in peak flower, from which I collected additional specimens of Acmaeodera angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also noticed more of the red/black Trichodes ornatus (red/black) and then realized that the several other beetle species on the flowers all seemed to be following a red/black coloration theme. These included Collops sp., Lycidae, and Coccinellidae (the latter which I did not collect).
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) female in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) on flowers of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Once we’d collected our fill, I got out the tropics net and spent some time sweeping the canopy of the Gambel oaks (common here but not further down the canyon), but I found no beetles and little else of interest. Beyond the trees, however, we found an east access to Leeds Creek, it’s course swollen with gushing water. We had been in the field all day and were quite hot, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to clean off and refresh myself in the clear mountain water. The rocky creek-bed and rapid current made securing footing (with bare feet) difficult, so proper handholds became paramount, and the frigid temperatures limited the time I could keep any part of my body submerged, but the refreshment and invigoration made it well worth the effort. What a fantastic way to wind down the day of collecting!
When we returned to the campground, we saw that every other site had become occupied (it was now Friday before a holiday weekend), and we thanked our lucky stars that we’d gotten here when we did and were able to claim such a choice spot! There was a fair bit of daylight remaining, so before starting dinner and settling down for the evening I wanted to return to the flowering Opuntia aurea that we’d found yesterday and check it again for Acmaeodera. I found the plant, but the flowers were now spent and nearly closed—their vivid pink now dulled and browned. However, I pried apart the petals and found, nevertheless, a couple of A. diffusa bedded down within the flower. I searched a bit more but did not find other cactus in bloom, so I returned to the campsite where Mike and I processed our day’s catch while we still had daylight.
The ”Bee Tree,” a 550 year-old ponderosa pine that has survived several forest fires and lightning strikes, one of which destroyed its crown—Oak Grove Campground.
Later in the evening as we were sitting by the campfire (still utilizing the super-hard mountain mahogany I’d cut up the day before), I saw a cerambycid beetle crawling on the ground towards the campfire. This proved to be Arhopalus productus, and over the next half-hour or so I found three additional individuals apparently attracted to the fire. As a final collecting act for the day, I decided to “walk the road” before going to be to see what beetles I might find walking nocturnally. I photographed a few interesting non-beetles, and near the furthest point before turning around I found a species of Zopherus that I take to be Z. uteanus.On the way back to the campsite, I checked the trunk of a massive, standing, recently-dead Pinus ponderosa in a nearby campsite. I had checked the tree several times during the day expecting to but not seeing woodboring beetles on it; however, this time I found another A. productus plus a few individuals of two species of Trogossitidae.
Ammopelmatus sp. (Jerusalem cricket—family Stenopelmatidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest. (I don’t find any known species with ranges extending into this area.)
Sclerosomatid harvestman (order Opiliones) feeding on tenebrionid beetle carcass in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Zopherusuteanus (family Zopheridae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
Day 12
Yesterday we checked several lower elevation spots in the canyon, so today we wanted to try the higher elevations. I still wasn’t sure I’d collected Acmaeodera knowltoni, thinking that specimens I’d collected at the lower elevations that could be small individuals of this species might actually be A. rubronotata instead, and guidance from Denanthony indicated that the species was not only more abundant but also the individuals larger (and this easier to distinguish from A. rubronotata) higher up in the canyon. Before going down to the highest of the spots recommended by Denanthony, we stoppped at a spot even further up in the canyon where profuse blooms of Penstemon palmeri could be seen blooming abundantly along the roadside (good for bees). This contrasted markedly with the paltry, sparse blooms we’d seen in the pinyon/juniper woodland at lower elevations, and we reasoned other plant species may also be blooming in greater abundance. Almost immediately getting out of the vehicle I found a new-for-the-locality flowering plant—Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch)—with several Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Right next to it was a single Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia in bloom with more of the same, but I hit the jackpot when I walked up the road a ways and found a rather large patch of these plants blooming abundantly and upon the flowers of which I collected numbers of not only A. bowditchi and A. diffusa, but also both A. knowltoni and A. rubronotata—the latter two easily distinguishable from each other not only by the larger size of A. knowltoni but also its uniformly orange rather than yellow elytral flecks with red towards the apices.
Acmaeodera knowltoni (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Acmaeodera knowltoni was also found along with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and Trichodes ornatus (red/black) on the flowers of Penstemon palmeri along the roadside leading up the road, and at the start of a trail leading off a nearby parking area I found the pink form of Opuntia aurea with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni on its flowers.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Penstemon palmeri (Palmer’s penstemon) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
A second species of Penstemon (P. linarioides) was common along the trail, which I checked it thoroughly for the presence of Acmaeodera, but the only beetles I found associated with its dark purple flowers was Trichodes ornatus. A small clump of A. wrightii was also found in this area, and in this case so found not only A. diffusa on its flowers but also A. knowltoni. The impressive numbers of Acmaeodera collected during the morning hours at this spot had me wondering what we would find at the next spot!
Penstemon linarioides (toadflax penstemon—family Plantaginaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland—flower.
A bit further down the canyon the Gambel oak woodland transitioned to scrub oak (Quercus turbinella) woodland with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming along the roadside.
Gambel’s oak woodland—Leeds Canyon, Utah.
Right beside the vehicle were some robust blooming Penstemon palmeri with Acmaeodera angelica and A. knowltoni on its flowers, and in the nearest stand of E. angustifolium I collected several more A. angelica, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni. I’d noticed even better stands of E. angustifolium a bit further down the road and walked to them—finding a bee for Mike on the flower of Diateria sp. (tansyaster) along the way, and then proceeded to collect nice series of the same plus not only A. bowditchi on the flowers but also a few specimens of A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides (these latter two the first I’d seen today).
Cucullia dorsalis (family Noctuidae) larva feeding on inflorescence of Dieteria sp. along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
After thoroughly examining the patches I’d seen, I walked back up to the vehicle to see how Mike had done, and he gave me a small Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. that he’d collected on the flower of Eremogone macradenia. He had seen the plant in only one spot a bit further up the road, so I walked up to the spot to see if I could find any more. I did not, but I did collect a couple of A. bowditchi on the flowers. By now I was famished and thirsty and felt I’d given the spot a good enough look, so I ate a bite of lunch and downed a bottle of Powerade (ask me why I prefer this brand over Gatorade) before heading to the next spot further down the canyon.
Eremogone macradenia (Mojave sandwort—family Caryophyllaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
This was another of the spots that Mike and I had noticed as a possible stop in addition to those recommended by Denanthony. It was below the third stop up the canyon that we’d visited the day before but above the second, mostly pinyon/juniper spot and, thus, still contained a lot of scrub oak (Quercus turbinellum) with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium along the road. We had to park down the canyon a bit to fully get off the road and then hiked back up to where we’d seen the stands. Along the way I found a single Opuntia camanchica in good bloom with several Acmaeodera visiting the flowers. These included A. bowditchi (of which I only took a few for the record given the number I collected on this cactus species the day before) but also A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides which were more interesting records for the cactus. Despite their robustness and profuse blooms, the E. angustifolium stands that prompted us to stop here produced very few Acmaeodera (or even bees, for that matter), but when I hiked further up the canyon I encountered some smaller stands in sparser bloom that produced at least a few individuals of nearly every other species of Acmaeodera that we had found in the canyon (A. angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. knowltoni, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata). As we’d approached the spot from above, I’d also noticed several stands of Heliomeris multiflora along the roadside as well, so I hiked up to them and was rewarded with A. ligulata on the flowers along with A. bowditchi and A. diffusa.
Acmaeodera angelica (family Buprestidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Having visited all of the spots up and down the canyon that Denanthony had recommended (except the area right around the campground, which we would explore the next day) and then some, we decided to go back to the first stop we made the day before—the lowest elevation spot in the canyon where we had collected—to see how it compared in the (now) late afternoon compared to mid- to late morning. It was hot, and I needed to eat and rehydrate, so I found a shaded spot to do that while Mike forged ahead. As I was getting ready to walk to the spot myself, Mike came back with a specimen of Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides that he had taken in flight near the stand of Eriodictyon angustifolium from which we’d had such good luck collecting the previous day. I had not seen this species during that first visit but found a few additional individuals this time, and the same went for A. knowltoni and A. ligulata (in fact, a single individual of A. pubiventris lanata was the only repeat species this time).
Coming back up the canyon, we stopped again at the first spot where we collected so Mike could pick up “bowl traps” that he had set out. (Bowl traps are commonly used by apiologists to sample bees in an area. Small plastic bowls, generally white, yellow, or blue in color, are filled with soapy water and placed on the ground. Bees mistake the colored bowls for flowers and drop into the soapy water when trying to land on it. Incidentally, these have proven effective also for flower-visiting species of Acmaeodera—Mike has given me many that he has collected over the years in his bowl traps, and I have begun using the technique myself.) While backing into the pullout, the tire pressure warning light suddenly came on, and I got out to see the left front tire hissing air and going flat. What ensued was a comedy of errors of epic proportions! We unloaded the back of the vehicle and got out the spare tire and jack, but we could not find a tire wrench anywhere in the vehicle. Mind you, the vehicle was purchased new last year, so it was unthinkable to me that it could have come without a tire iron! No problem, I thought—I’ll just call AAA. I had just enough cell service to make the call and endure the endless automated questions and call transfers before reaching a live person and submitting a service request. While I was waiting for service, I decided to walk back up to the spot where I’d had such good luck collecting A. knowltoni and other species in the genus on Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia to see how late afternoon collecting would compare (hang in there—the comedy of errors will ensue shortly). The S. grossulariifolia flowers were not open to the same degree as they were in the morning, but still the Acmaeodera were numerous on them and I added to my series of A. knowltoni (along with a few more A. bowditchi and A. diffusa for the record). As I walked back to the vehicle, a missed call notification came through on my phone. Apparently AAA had tried to contact me (unsuccessfully due to poor reception in the area I had walked to) and left a voicemail. When I called them back, they told me they couldn’t send a tow truck up an unpaved road. My explanation that I needed only a tire iron and not a tow truck fell on deaf ears, so when I hung up I told Mike there was nothing left to do but to walk up to the campground (thankfully less than a mile up the road) and see if I could bum a tire iron. As it turned out, I didn’t even have to walk all the way to the campground, as I encountered a family parked at the creek crossing below the campground. Dad rummaged through the back of his truck and produced a tire iron after I explained our predicament, and I was quickly on my way back to the vehicle. There was once positive from the walk—during the return leg, I was finally presented an opportunity to photograph a splendid individual of Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail)—a species that had eluded all my previous attempts to photograph it by refusing to even land anywhere, much less pose long enough to attempt a photograph!
Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flowers of Medicago sativa (alfalfa) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Returning to the vehicle, we were ready to change the tire and get the day back on track, but when I attempted to loosen the first lug the iron spun freely—it was too big! Who knew tire lugs came in different sizes? (Okay, maybe others know this, but it was news to me!) Just then a truck came by, so we waved him down and explained our predicament to the man driving and the several young men that he was clearly the boss of. It took them much more time to find it, but they finally produced a tire iron after some extensive rummaging through the truck’s tool chest. It looked to me exactly the first one I’d bummed, but I tried it anyway. Of course, the result was the same—it was too big! As Mike, the man, and his crew debated the next step, I got to thinking about how weird-looking the jack was that I’d pulled from my vehicle—it just didn’t make sense that a tire iron could have been mistakenly omitted from the spare tire compartment. I picked up the jack, looked it over carefully, and saw one part of it that had a lug socket-looking piece on it. I started fumbling with that part of the jack, and it suddenly detached from the jack proper—proving itself to be a custom-designed foldable tire iron! I felt like such an idiot, but I was so elated to have finally found the iron that I didn’t care. I showed the others what I’d found, and after a good laugh (either with me or at me, perhaps both) the man and his crew continued on their way and Mike and I proceeded to change the tire and get back on the road.
Mike assists with the tire change.
As a final collecting act (perhaps a momento for the flat tire fiasco), I found a tenebrionid beetle crawling on the road next to the vehicle while we changed the flat.
Safely back at the campground after our flat tire fiasco, we settled down to process the day’s (prodigious) catch. We again relished our choice site in the campground, with its stunning view and maximum privacy, and eventually prepared what had become our favorite dinner—“dirty burgers” (burgers cooked in a frying pan in which grease and drippings from previous days’ meals are allowed to accumulate).
“Dirty burgers” coll
Conditions still were not favorable for blacklighting (moon nearing full and coolish temps at such high elevation), so instead of setting up lights I waited for a bit after darkness fell and then wandered over to the giant recently-dead ponderosa pine in the neighboring campsite and checked it for beetles attracted to its trunk. Unlike the previous night, when only one longhorned beetle was found, this time I encountered multiple specimens of Arhopalus sp., Tetropium? sp., Trogosittidae, and Elateridae after repeated circuits around the giant tree trunk. Once no more beetles were found, I began walking the road up through and out of the campground. I was especially interested in seeing if I could find more of the Z. uteanus that I found the previous night and succeeded in finding three more (in almost the exact same place as the previous specimen) along with several tenebrionid beetles.
Coelocnemis punctata (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Eleodes (Blapylis) sp. (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
At the furthest point that I walked before turning back, towering ponderosa pines framed a stunning view of the moonlit canyon wall with the Big Dipper hanging perfectly over it—a perfect scene to capture using the iPhone’s night photography mode.
The Big Dipper shines above the canyon ridge.
Day 13
Our plan for the day was to leave the canyon and travel further west to a couple of localities (one near the border with Arizona, another just over it) where Ampheremus cylindricollis has been recorded to occur before at last starting back to the east and traveling to Jacobs Lake, Arizona. First, however, we couldn’t leave the canyon without giving a good look at the highest elevations in the canyon. We had seen wild rose (Rosa woodsii) in bloom just below the campground each of the past two mornings but no beetles upon them; however, the time needed to break down camp had us leaving the campground a bit later in the day with correspondingly higher temps.
Upper Leeds Creek.
When we reached the creek crossing where the roses were growing, we could see gobs of beetles in them even before we parked and got out of the vehicle! With the first tap of a flower over the net I got a couple of Acmaeodera knowltoni and nearly two dozen Anthaxia sp.! The latter were clearly members of the subgenus Haplanthaxia, meaning the species was A. caseyi—the only western U.S. species of the subgenus (as opposed to the subgenus Melanthaxia, of which there are many western U.S. species). However, several A. caseyi subspecies have been described, and it will require closer examination to determine which (if any) of the described subspecies this population pertains to. The buprestids were so abundant on the rose flowers that I quickly collected sufficient series of each and turned my attention to examining the beetles in the flowers carefully to look for any that represented other species. In the end, I found just one Acm. bowditchi, two Acm. diffusa, and a few Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. in addition to the dozens of A. knowltoni and hundreds (literally!) of A. caseyi seen (also a couple of Curculionidae).
Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (family Buprestidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Acmaeodera knowltoni and Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (both family Buprestidae) in flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Xylota flavitibia (family Syrphidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
After getting my fill of rose visitors, I set about to see what other beetles I might find in the area, which had experienced a burn in the past year or two (though not stand-killing). Nothing was found beating any of the dead branches, whether pine or oak, and the only beetles I found beating living trees was Curculio sp. on Quercus gambelii. Near a small tributary of the main creek I found Aquilegia formosa (western columbine) and Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower) in bloom, the latter with a few A. knowlton and A. caseyi on its flowers. The only other plant I could find in flower in the area was Erigeron flagellaris, and while I looked at many plants I found only a single A. knowltoni on one of its flowers. I’d hoped to find more on the dead wood (especially non-Acmaeodera, which were the preponderance of buprestids I collected in the canyon over the past few days), but I was happy to have added at least a couple of Anthaxia spp. and increased my series of (and recorded flower hosts for) A. knowltoni.
Aquilegia formosa (western columbine—family Ranunculaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower—family Phrymaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane—family Asteraceae) in recently burned (2 years?) ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
It was now near midday, so we decided we should find our way back to civilization and get the flat tire fixed so we could check the two westernmost localities and make it to the Jacobs Lake area by evening.
Santa Clara River Reserve Washington County, Utah After spending a couple hours of our afternoon in Hurricane, Utah (what a name!) getting yesterday’s flat tire fixed at a Walmart (what a cultural experience that was—imagine Appalachia meets Mexico with a touch of Salt Lake City!!), we drove a half-hour to a site in the extreme southwestern corner of the state to look for Ampheremus cylindricollis—a species I have not yet collected myself and which should be associated with Eriogonum inflatum. We had gradually dropped in elevation during the day (we were nearing the western edge of the Colorado Plateau), and by the time we reached the site we were under 3000’ — the lowest we have been at any time in this trip (including northwestern Oklahoma!). The drop in elevation meant an increase in temperature, and when we arrived the thermostat read 109°F (the second-highest temperature I’ve ever experienced while collecting [my PR is a blistering 115°F in the Glamis Dunes of southern California]). Despite the heat, I was anxious to start collecting because I could see stands of Eriogonum as we drove down the road towards the parking lot—except it was not E. inflatum but rather a smaller species that I determined to be E. deflexum (flatcrown buckwheat). Nevertheless, I began sweeping it and quickly found a tiny buprestid that I did not immediately recognize. Buoyed by this unexpected surprise, I swept more of the plants and quickly came up with two more specimens. With three now in hand, I couldn’t wait any longer to know what species it represented, so I checked my sources and determined it must be Anambodera nebulosa—perhaps an even better catch than A. cylindricollis because not only have I never collected it, but neither is it even represented in my collection by a specimen I’ve gotten from someone else. (I am also unsure whether the host plant has been recorded or if it has ever been collected in Utah.) At that point, I started sweeping every Eriogonum plant I could find (including a few E. inflatum, which I did find up the hill a ways) but persistently came up empty. It was not until I’d worked my way to the first parking area and swept the last stand of E. deflexum on that side of the road that I eventually found a fourth individual. Considering how much work it took to find them (and the extreme heat in which I was doing it), I gave only a half-hearted attempt to plants on the other side of the road as I walked back to the car (with predictably unsuccessful results). I also failed to find A. cylindricollis, but I had one more locality that I wanted to check so I remained optimistic.
Tukuoetsi Trailhead, Santa Clara River Reserve—Washington County, Utah
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area MojaveCounty, Arizona It took us another half hour to make it to Virgin River Canyon — a Bureau of Land Management Recreation Area just inside the northwestern-most corner of Arizona as one drops down from the Colorado Plateau into the Great Basin.
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area—Mojave County, Arizona
This was the other spot I had where I might be able to collect Ampheremus cylindricollis, and if we thought the last stop was hot, this one was extreme — a sweltering 112°F! Unfortunately, we drove throughout the area and did not see any stands of Eriogonum inflatum (the host plant for A. cylindricollis) — or any species of Eriogonum for that matter. Nevertheless, we got out our nets and began looking around, as there were other flowering plants present (Baileya and Hymenopappus). Nothing was seen in them at first (although Mike eventually found a true desert bee species on the lone still-flowering individual of the latter), so I took the short Canyon Scenic Overlook Trail to its terminus. I was glad I did, as there were some very informative interpretive signs about the geology of the area, but the overwhelming heat had me wilting quickly and I worked my way back to the car.
Looking down into the Great Basin.
Multicolored cliffs at the edge of the Colorado Plateau.
I’m not sure where in the area the host plant occurs, but it is not at this spot. With no other potential collecting localities identified in the area — and having reached the westernmost extent of the trip, we turned back towards the east and started heading for Jacobs Lake in the Kaibab Mountains of northern Arizona.
The beginning of our eastward return towards the Kaibab Plateau was uneventful, although we became increasingly concerned when a smoke plume appeared on the horizon and the closer we got to reaching our destination (Jacobs Lake Campground) the more it seemed that that was also the location of the fire. When we got up on top of the plateau, we discovered a vast swath of its northern portion had already been devastated in an obviously very hot (i.e., stand replacing) wildfire within the past couple of years, only increasing our fears about what we might find. Fortunately, the devastation ended some miles before we reach Jacobs Lake (and the smoke plum—a controlled burn, was still some miles beyond), but when we reached the campground we were sorely disappointed to find not a single spot available even on a Sunday night (though admittedly still a holiday weekend leading into July 4th). Our only choice was to turn around and head down off the plateau into the tiny town of Fredonia, where we found a room at an odd little complex of duplex units.
Grand Canyon Motel—Fredonia, Arizona.
Day 14
Our hopes of good coffee in the morning were dashed when the ‘Closed’ sign in the small bakery across the street remained in place, so we were forced to visit one of the two local gas stations where I unintentionally eavesdropped on a group of local Arizona Republicans that had claimed the available breakfast seating area (hiding the rips in my jeans as a result—it’s a weird story!) before driving back up onto the plateau and through the devastation to LeFevre Overlook.
Dinosaurs everywhere out west!
Le Fevre Overlook Kaibab National Forest CoconinoCounty, Arizona The pinyon/juniper woodland at this spot was not completely without impacts from the recent wildfires but did not exhibit the wholesale devastation seen further back. Immediately after starting out—not even 10 meters from the vehicle—I encountered a dead Pinus edulis with tantalizingly loose bark that said “peel me!” Peeling back the first slab gave an immediate payoff—an Arhopalus montanus that had taken shelter under the loose bark. I peeled back another piece and found another individual, and by the time I had peeled the entire trunk I had a nice series of a half-dozen specimens.
Arhopalusmontanus (family Cerambycidae) under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Peeling the bark revealed not only longhorned beetles but also Buprestis-sized emergence holes in the sapwood, one of which still contained a dead individual that had failed to emerge from the wood. I carefully chipped away at the surrounding wood until I was able to extract the cadaver—a nearly intact B. prospera—another target for the trip and now a new addition to my cabinet!
Buprestis prospera (family Buprestidae) intact carcass in emergence hole under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
As I worked I was approached by several tourists curious about what I was doing. I cheerfully fielded their questions and even showed the specimens to those interested, having long ago stopped seeing these as annoying interruptions but rather opportunities to present the science of entomology in a favorable light. I did not extend the same courtesy to a particular Arizona Republican, who pulled up in his large pickup (white, with giant tires of course) and got out packing an intentionally visible sidearm. I’m thinking “Who in the hell does this man think he’ll meet that he needs to be able to shoot them?” That’s some compensation if I ever saw it! I hoped he wouldn’t want to engage, but no such luck—when he asked me what I was doing, I just said “kinda busy” in an attempt to abort any further interaction. This worked, and I was relieved to not have to tell him more directly not to approach me. I worked several other dead pinyon pines in the area the same way but was not able to replicate the success I’d had at that first tree, so I began beating the living trees in the area to see if adults of other woodboring species were out and about. Indeed they were, producing several individuals of one of a sculptured Chrysobothris sp., a small species of Acanthocinini, and a giant male Monochamus clamator.
Monochamus clamator (spotted pine sawyer—family Cerambycidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Across the road I spotted a recently wind-thrown branch of P. edulis, and crossing the road to reach it was worth the effort—I was able to collect a nice series of what I believe is Chrysobothris cuprascens (another species I’ve not collected previously) as well as a few specimens of the sculptured Chrysobothris sp. I’d collected earlier (I presume).
Demonstrating the “finger tap” method that is useful for collecting Chrysobothris spp. on dead branches.
Working my way to a large standing recently dead P. edulis nearby, I encountered and netted a small histerid beetle in flight, but on the trunk of the tree itself I found only a few Enoclerus sp. (perhaps E. lecontei) and no Buprestidae or Cerambycidae. I went back to the fallen branch to see if I could collect a few more C. cuprascens, which I did but also found one being preyed upon by an Enoclerus sp. and collected predator and prey together. Mike was having only moderate luck with bees (due to a dearth of plants in bloom), and since I’d gotten a good enough look at the area we decided to move further up the plateau.
We drove further south onto the higher elevations of the plateau, the scrubby pinyon/juniper woodlands being gradually replaced by forests of tall, stately ponderosa pine. Gone also were the devastating effects of recent wildfires, replaced by evidence of active fire management practices intended to minimize accumulation of wood fuel and controlled burns that leave their telltale black signatures at the base of the trees but do not kill them. The result of these efforts was a rich ground layer of ceanothus, lupine, and other shrubs and forbs in full bloom.
4 mi NW Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona I spotted a large, recently wind-thrown ponderosa pine as we drove, it’s faded gray-green suggesting it might be the right age to look for woodboring beetles running along its trunk and branches, and stopped the vehicle at the nearest pull-off. There was so much blooming ceanothus around that Mike barely had to walk before he started finding bees visiting the flowers. I searched them also for Buprestidae and Cerambycidae but found none, but my immediate objective was to hike back to the fallen tree I’d seen from the highway. Along the way I continued—for a while—to check the ceanothus flowers but eventually quit doing this when it was clear no beetles were utilizing them at this time, and the occasional small dead tree and fallen branch also failed to produce any beetles running along them. At one point before reaching the fallen giant I encountered a huge, standing dead ponderosa pine with mostly intact but tantalizingly loose bark and promptly began peeling it. The bark was still semi-attached but easily peeled off in large chunks, occasionally revealing galleries packed with moist, fibrous frass that usually surrounded a large entrance hole into the sapwood. Eventually in one of these galleries I found a huge cerambycid larva that, based on size alone but also the presence of distinct legs I take to be Trichocnemis spiculatus—common in ponderosa pine in Arizona and one of only very few species with larvae of this size. I collected it in an attempt to rear to adulthood and did the same with another found under the bark of a nearby tree—others were later found boring into the slightly punky sapwood of the first tree.
Likely Trichocnemis spiculatus (spined woodborer—family Cerambycidae) larva under slightly loose bark on trunk of large, standing, recently dead Pinus ponderosa.
Eventually I reached the large, recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa that was the reason for the stop. The lower half of the massive trunk was propped up at eye level by the branches that snapped and impaled into the ground when it fell, making it easy to scan both its upper sunlit and lower shaded surfaces for any sign of movement. None was seen at first, but eventually tiny Enoclerus sp. (prob. lecontei) were seen running along the trunk. Continued searching scared up a Chalcophora angulicollis, which flew to and landed clumsily on the tree’s exposed root-wad, and several Chrysobothris sp. prob. dentipes were seen on the sunny surface but only one captured. The upper branches of the tree were no more productive—only a single Chrysobothris sp. (not C. dentipes) was found after thoroughly searching them.
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer—family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
I continue to peel bark on the way back to the car, finding only a dead Trogosittidae under loose bark on the lower trunk of a large dead Pinus ponderosa, and by the time I’d returned to the vehicle I was not overly impressed with the spot. Mike, however, was having tremendous success collecting bees, not only from the ceanothus but other flowers as well, so I decided to cross the highway and check out some standing dead pines that I could see from afar. As I started out, I noticed movement on a small, newly-fallen branch of P. ponderosa right next to me and saw that it was a Chrysobothris sp.—colllecting not only that one but another that flew to the branch while I was putting the first one in the bottle. As I crossed the road and walked towards the trees, I noticed another fallen giant ponderosa pine looking very much like the first one I’d seen from the highway and veered towards it. Immediately upon approach I saw the zippy movement and escape flight of a Chrysobothris, its identity belied by the green flash of its abdominal tergites as it took flight. Continued searching along its trunk produced not only C. dentipes but also several Phaenops gentilis.
Phaenops gentilis (family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Nothing was seen on the lower portions of the branches, but beating the upper needled portions produced many Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei) and what I at first took to be a very small species of Oedemeridae. Something about them, however, gave me pause, and I got out the lens to take a closer look at them. I’m glad I did, because they turned out not to be ordemerids, but rather tiny cerambycids of the genus Phymatodes! I continued beating the branches to find more and eventually collected a nice series of them. Ironically, the standing dead trees that first caught my attention had nothing on them. By now, we were anxious to get to Jacob Lake Campground to see if, on a Monday, we could now claim a site. Only a few sites were available, most of them in undesirably exposed settings, but luck was with us when we found a large, nicely shaded site that was well-distanced from those surrounding it. We claimed the spot and then went back out to take advantage of what remained of the afternoon.
Driving south of Jacob Lake on Hwy 67 took us directly into the area subject to the controlled burn that had caused the smoke plume that concerned us the day before. Smoldering embers dotted the blackened understory, but the tall pines above, their foliage bright and green, belied the controlled nature of the burn. I wanted to get out and look for Melanophila spp., which are famously attracted to smoldering remnants of forest fires, but access to the public was closed for obvious safety reasons.
7 mi S Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona Clearing the burn area we encountered a more open forest that had clearly been ravaged by an uncontrolled fire within the last couple of years—perhaps the same one that had devastated so much of the northern edge of the plateau, but along the margins where the damage was less severe we saw stands of flowering trees that proved to be Robinia neomexicana. I expected to find Agrilus egenus on the living foliage, and that is what I found in numbers. There were a few large, standing, dead Pinus ponderosa—under the loose bark on the lower trunk of one I found a Trogosittidae and on the lower trunk of another I captured several Xylotes sp. flies that were clearly attracted to the tree.
Agrilus egenus (family Buprestidae) on foliage of living Robinia neomexicana in aspen grove in burned ponderosa pine forest.
Not much else was found of interest, so we decided to drive further south into even higher elevations. This eventually led out of the area of devastation into an area of high alpine meadows with interesting, ground-hugging species of flowering plants but little of interest in the way of insects.
High elevation alpine meadow.
Phlox austromontana (mountain phlox—family Polemoniaceae) in high elevation alpine meadow.
The afternoon by then passing into evening, we returned to the campground and spent a very comfortable night sleeping at altitude.
Day 15
A couple weeks ago I noticed Facebook posts by Joel Dubois, who had collected some nice species near Farmington. I thought the area might be a nice stopping point for collecting as we began to work our way back to St. Louis in earnest, and Joel was kind enough to send me location information for where he had collected. It would be a 5½-hour drive from our campsite at Jacob Lake, so instead of a leisurely morning enjoying our coffee, we broke camp early and were on the road by 8 am.
A relict from simpler days.
The drive down off the Kaibab Plateau and across northern Arizona was as spectacular as any we’ve seen during the trip, and we marveled at the myriad bizarre rock formations, multicolored canyon walls, and desolate volcanic ash landscapes. It was tempting to stop and explore along the way, but we kept our noses to the grindstone and reached the site by mid-afternoon.
Brown Springs Campground Glade Run Recreation Area San JuanCounty, New Mexico The place looked extremely dry and dusty, but we reserved judgment until we actually got out and sampled for a while (the lessons of experience). Sadly, our initial impression was confirmed, and almost nothing was seen on any plant other than a few tiny Dasytinae and bees on flowers of Stanleya pinnata (“Bees are everywhere.”—Mike Arduser). Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, we quickly ended our explorations and headed for the next spot.
“Bees are everywhere!”—Michael S. Arduser
Above Pump Canyon San Juan County, New Mexico I visited this canyon once many years ago with fellow beetle-enthusiast Paul Kaufman while he lived in Farmington. Paul collected some nice beetle species from the canyon while he lived here, so I scheduled it as one of our collecting localities for later in the trip as we worked our way back to St. Louis. It was only an hour drive from the previous spot, so we were a little concerned if it would prove to be as dry and lifeless as the previous spot. The presence, however, of pinyon pine and juniper as we worked our way up the canyon created some optimism, with the sighting of ponderosa pines near the top of the canyon being especially welcome.
Top of Pump Canyon.
Top of Pump Canyon.
The first thing I noticed starting out was a small stand of Eriogonum alatum—the same plant that serves as the host for Chrysobothris nelsoni in southwestern Utah! I thought it unlikely that I would find the species here as well, but of course I had to look at the plants anyway. As I did, I noticed two species of clytrine leaf beetles feeding on the inflorescences; one a large, chunky species and the other a much smaller one. I collected a few of each, but buprestids were what I was after and thus turned my attention to the two species of pine in the area—Pinus edulis on top of the mesa and P. ponderosa at its edge and down in the canyon. I’d beaten the branches of several dead P. edulis and chopped around the base of a large, standing dead P. ponderosa—both with no success, when I spotted another large, standing dead P. ponderosa across the road. As I approached it I noticed the metallic green of a Buprestis (Cypriacis) sp. partial carcass on the ground beneath it. It is probably B. aurulenta, but I can’t discount the possibility of it being B. prospera since pinyon pine also occurs in the area—a more specific identification will have to await close examination when I get home. The tree itself produced nothing, so I turned and saw a cut stump of Pinus edulis that was apparently half-live, half-dead when it died or was cut and that exhibited emergence holes of Buprestis on the barkless dead half. I began chipping away at the stump with my hatchet hoping to find an intact carcass of whatever species had made the emergence holes and quickly encountered one in an emergence hole that had not quite reached the exterior when it died. It looks to me like the image I’ve seen of Buprestis pinyoni and the host is right; if it is that species, it would be a really nice find as it was one of my (admittedly long-shot) targets for the trip!
Buprestis pinyoni? (family Buprestidae) cadaver cut from stump of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Finding the last two carcasses motivated me to continue looking for other evidence of the species, and I beat/chopped/peeled bark from a number of dead pines of both species but did not find any more individuals—either live or dead. I did, however, enjoy the spectacular views of the head of the canyon (essentially a sandstone box canyon). I found more Eriogonum on the other side of the canyon, on one of which was another of the smaller clytrine leaf beetle species, and I also collected two tiny bees in the flower of Penstemon sp. (blue) for Mike. Finally, when I returned to the car I noticed the characteristically “flagged” branch of a small Quercus gambelii that had been pruned by a cerambycid larva. I peered inside the hole at the cut end of the branch and saw the culprite inside, so I collected the branch and trimmed it to bring it back for rearing. By now it was getting into the evening hours and there seemed to be little other insect activity going on, so we made the one-hour drive to Navajo Lake State Park—keeping our fingers crossed that the holiday crush had subsided and that we would be able to find a nice campsite (preferably with shade!).
Cottonwood Campground Navajo Lake State Park San Juan County, New Mexico The campground as a whole was less than impressive—typical of state park campgrounds that look more like a suburban neighborhood than remote wilderness. It was nearly full, but a few spots remained at the back of the area. Remarkably, these were some of the most delightful spots in the entire campground—ensconced within a grove of large cottonwood trees and well isolated from the cluster of RVs and giant pickup trucks (mostly white, with giant wheels of course) populating the bulk of the campground. After setting up camp and cooking “dirty burgers” for dinner, I walked the campground loop to look for beetles crawling on the road and attracted to the lights at the restrooms. There was not much at the lights, only one sculptured tenebrionid and one nondescript elaterid (along with numbers of a small melolinthine, which I did not collect); and I found two Tenebrionidae walking the road near the restroom and our campsite. [Edit: the “sculptured tenebrionid” turned out to be a great find—Trogloderus verpus, described recently by Andrew Johnston.] Tomorrow will be another driving day, with about six hours to go before reaching our next destination—Mills Canyon in northeastern New Mexico.
Trogloderus verpus (family Tenebrionidae) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland. This species was described in 2019 by Andrew Johnston.
Armadillidium vulgare (common pill woodlouse—order Isopoda) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland.
Day 16
The drive from Navajo Lake to Mills Canyon was by any definition the most memorable of the trip. It was a study of contrasts, from remote mountain forests and barren high plains to dramatic canyon descents that dumped us out rather abruptly onto the western reaches of the vast Great Plains. There was also drama—some of it self-made and some of it thrust upon us. Leaving Navajo Lake State Park, we were a bit concerned to find no open gas stations in nearby Navajo City, and with no cell service anywhere in the area we had to rely on an old road atlas to plan our route. A wrong turn before we figured this out didn’t help, but the gauge still indicated we had sufficient fuel to make it to a “town” about halfway to Dulce with plenty to spare. Getting onto Hwy 64, we quickly came upon a trio of vehicles led by an old pickup truck driving far below the speed limit and veering worrisomely from side to side on the winding, mountain road. Passing was impossible with the continuous double yellow lines, so we settled into fourth position and watched with increasing concern as the truck shortcut every leftward curve, blind or not and sometimes completely crossing the double yellow, and ran partially or completely off the right bank with every rightward curve of the road. Calling 911 was an impossibility with the complete lack of cell service, so we helplessly followed for mile after mile hoping and praying that we wouldn’t be forced to witness a most horrific head-on collision or tumbling rollover off the right bank. At various times the truck would speed up, seemingly without reason and often well exceeding the posted speed limit to disappear off in the distance, only to slow back down to well under the speed limit and reform the caravan of worried witnesses. To make matters worse, the “town” halfway to Dulce did not exist—we reached it to find only an arroyo and leaving us biting our lips whether we would reach Dulce—about 15 miles beyond the “zero” mark on my fuel gauge! The truck sped on ahead for much of the latter half of the drive to Dulce, allowing us to worry only about our fuel situation and devise action plans should we run out of fuel short of town and with no cell service, and when we hit the zero mark 15 miles from town the real sweating began. With about five miles to go, we quickly came upon the truck, once again driving at a snail’s pace and veering just as badly as ever from side to side. It did give us something else to worry about, but I was happy to drive slowly to maximize fuel efficiency, and the long final descent into town further helped in that regard. I was elated to make it into town but then horrified to see the truck make the same turns we were making and then slowly crawl into the first available service station—would I really run out of gas just short of the pump because of this guy?! Fortunately that did not happen, and I could only let out a sigh of relief as I was finally able to get out from behind the slowly crawling truck and zip up next to a pump. The truck ambled into the bay next to us, and we were anxious to see if the driver was somehow impaired or merely drunk! Much was explained as we watched the most elderly of men slowly exit the vehicle, oblivious to everything around him, and pop the hood of his truck. As we gassed up, a police vehicle pulled up in front of the truck, and the officer driving asked the elderly gentleman if everything was okay. I didn’t eavesdrop further, but when the officers appeared satisfied with their conversation and about to drive off, I discretely motioned for them to come over. I explained what we had seen for the past hour plus following the old man all the way from Navajo Lake, generating enough concern on the police officers’ part that they not only again made contact with the man but also called a backup unit. We did not get to see how things turned out—the officers told us we were free to leave, but hopefully they were able to reach a family member or friend that could come to the old man’s aid and get him off the road. I felt sorry for the old man, but at the same time we very probably prevented an accident that could have injured or even killed somebody, whether it be the old man himself or another motorist through no fault of their own. Freshly gassed up and all drama now over, we continued east. The village of Taos offered some entertainment—“green” housing developments west of town were a marked contrast to the ramshackle used bus/camper neighborhoods that preceded them, a gathering of artists’ kiosks at a rest stop just outside town offered a chance to view local talent (I couldn’t pass up the aspen burl carved to a sheep skull!), and the city of Taos itself merged adobe-themed architecture with artsy-fartsy flair.
Artists’ market outside of Taos, New Mexico.
The work of one artist—faces carved into wood burls—caught my interest.
We have a winner—sheep’s head made from an aspen burl.
The transition back into the Great Plains marked a dramatic change in scenery, and we watched entire thundercloud systems bloom at various points in the distance—one seemingly in the area of our destination. It passed over us just as we stopped to replenish groceries in nearby Springer, and I hoped against hope that we would not arrive late in the afternoon to a drenched landscape with insect activity already having ceased for the day. The rain held off as we got closer and closer, although a bull snake (Pituophis catenifer sayi) did defiantly hinder our path as we neared our destination.
Thunderstorms in the distance.
Pituophis catenifer sayi (bullsnake) crossing the road in shortgrass prairie (and not pleased with our trespass!).
When we arrived at the canyon we checked out the Rim Campground above the canyon and then the Canyon Campground down below. The road down the canyon was narrow and rocky but afforded some spectacular views of what essentially is the edge of a large break from the plateau above and the plains below. After looking around the canyon bottom (and seeing another bull snake that was even more cantankerous than the one we’d seen atop the plateau), we decided that the floral diversity above was more interesting and, thus, would give better odds for insect collecting.
The Canadian River cuts deep into Mill Canyon.
Another ornery bullsnake!
Mill Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico By the time we reached the campground back on top of the canyon, thunderclouds had moved ominously close and repeated flashes of lightning followed closely by cracks of thunder forced us to sit in the car until the feeling of danger had passed. Once it did, we started exploring the immediate vicinity of the campsite, although the fresh rain—in my experience usually a killer of insect activity if it happens late in the afternoon, gave me little reason to be optimistic. I noticed an enticingly freshly dead Pinus edulis at the edge of our campsite, walked up to it, and whacked to one of its branches over my beating sheet. Off fell a fine Alaus lusciosus—a species I have not collected before, and closer inspection of the tree revealed not only several cicadas (Hadoa duryi) on its branches, but also a couple of Zopherus concolor on its trunk. (I would come back to this tree repeatedly over the rest of the evening and the next day!)
Alaus lusciosus (Texas eyed click beetle—family Elateridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Hadoa duryi (orange-and-black cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
As I was searching the tree, I saw a Buprestis sp. land on and run up the trunk of the tree before quickly taking flight to a nearby living tree. With this, I decided to start beating the various living trees around the campsite, trying the one I’d seen the Buprestis fly to (which yielding nothing) before moving to another nearby tree and seeing a fine B. consularis land on my sheet! This is another species I’ve not collected before [Edit: I now think it possible or even likely that the species is actually B. laeviventris], but despite continued beating I never got another one after that. (I suspect it may have been the same individual that I saw on the dead tree and that species was near the end of its activity period due to the lateness of the hour.)
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Beating other trees also was fruitless, the only thing of interest being a single clerid beetle beaten from a living branch of Quercus×undulata. Flowers seemed abundant around the campsite, but the only beetle I found on them was the quite pedestrian Batyle ignicollis on Ratibida tagetes. It seemed clear that the combination of rain and a sinking sun had put an end to much of the insect activity in the area. With that, we set up camp and then kicked back for a bit before cooking dinner.
Gorgeous colors announce the setting sun.
Eastern skies still ominous and threatening!
Despite the prior rain, I was strongly considering setting up the lights—the temperatures seemed like they were not cooling off too much, and the continued threat of storms from surrounding cloud systems combined with a finally-past-full moon created a situation that I’ve often found is conducive to bringing insects to the lights.
Mercury-vapor and ultraviolet lights humming as an unsettled evening descends into darkness.
In addition to setting up the lights (both mercury-vapor and ultraviolet), I also got out the prionic acid lure (that Paul had given me) and placed it on the table at dusk. Almost immediately, a large male Prionus californicus came flying into the campsite, landed near the lure, and crawled about frantically while erratically waving its antennae trying to locate what it thought was a calling female. Several more males flew into the campsite over the next half-hour before darkness fell completely and I put the lure away.
Prionus californicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure at dusk in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
By now the lights had caused a fair gathering of insects to amass on the sheet, but other than a rather abundant small melolonthine scarab they were almost all moths—temps were not quite high enough to “bring the beetles.” There were two exceptions—one minor (another male P. californicus), and one major (a male P. emarginatus, first time collecting the species for me!).
Prionus emarginatus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to UV/MV lights in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Oh, and remember that dead P. edulis in the campsite? I not only collected several more Z. concolor from its trunks and branches after dark but also a nice series of Eutrichillus neomexicanus. Considering how un-optimistic I was regarding our collecting prospects for the spot after arriving so late in the day—and after rain at that, it was an incredible stretch of good collecting for the spot!
Automeris zephyria (zephyr eyed silkmoth—family Saturniidae) at mercury vapor/ultraviolet light in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Day 17
Our original plan after arriving yesterday had been to see how collecting was in the area and then make a decision whether to remain (if the collecting was good) or travel further east into the Texas panhandle) to one of several state parks that had caught my interest. The collecting we experienced yesterday—obviously—warranted continued collecting for at least another day, so rather than tearing down camp to get back on the road we were able to leisurely enjoy our morning coffee before striking out. My first target was the dead P. edulis right in our campsite that had produced so many interesting insects yesterday. Inspection of its trunk and branches revealed more of the cicadas (Hadoa duryi) that were abundant in the area, a few of which I collected, and beating its branches produced yet another series of E. neomexicanus.
Eutrichillus neomexicanus (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
I would return to this tree repeatedly during the day hoping to see more Buprestis consularis/laeviventris, and in the late afternoon I finally got my wish as several individuals visited the tree and searched along its trunk.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
In the meantime, I began searching other campsites in the campground to see if I could find other P. edulis at the right stage of “deadness.” None were found, but I did find an old dead P. edulis stump that exhibited Buprestis-sized emergence holes and from which I chopped the remnants (prothorax and elytra) of an adult B. consularis that had failed to emerge. The first flower-visiting insects of the day were found when I wandered over to a small water tank with lush vegetation around its margins. Acmaeodera sp. nr. mixta/immaculata, and a chrysomelid beetle were taken on a flower of Engelmannia peristenia, and Paranapiacaba tricincta (in outbreak numbers) and several melyrid beetles were swept from vegetation near Cucurbita foetidissima in full bloom.
Burnsius communis (common checkered skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower of Engelmannia persistencia in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Even more beetles were collected on the other side of the pond, where flowers of Ratibida columnifera produced more of the same Acmaeodera along with Batyle ignicollis, B. suturalis, a single Typocerus confluens, and several melyrid beetles, bees, and wasps. Another B. ignicollis was also collected on the flower of Hymenopappus tenuifolius.
Typocerus confluens (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Pterocheilusquinquefasciatus (family Vespidae) on flower of Ratibidacolumnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Perdita (Cockerellia) sp. (family Andrenidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Papilio multicaudata (two-tailed swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flower of Cirsium undulatum in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
After looking at most the flowers in the area, I notice tiger beetles running in a barren wet ditch running from the pond towards the road. Catching several of them revealed two species present: Cicindelidia punctulata (most exhibiting the green coloration of subspecies C. p. chihuahuae) and C. sedecimpunctata.
Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Cicindela sedecimpunctata (western red-bellied tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Just as I was finishing up with the tiger beetles, a huge beetle flew into the area. It was so large it sounded like a diesel engine in flight, and after getting a good glimpse at it I realized it was Prionus heroicus! I collected this species during my previous visit to this spot (some 10 years ago) using prionic acid lures to attract them, and I suspect in this case the beetle was attracted to residual prionic acid on my hands after handling the lure last night.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to prionic acid lure during the afternoon in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland. Prionuscalifornicus and P. emarginatus also occur at this site; however, they are active during dusk (former) or at night (latter).
The area outside the fence surrounding the campground (and subject to grazing) didn’t look too interesting, so I walked through the campground back to our campsite to try my luck in a large grassland area south of the campground but still inside the fence line. Along the way I saw a “flagged” dying branch that had been broken (perhaps by a camper) and was hanging off a living P. edulis—beating it produced a fine Monochamus clamator and several Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei), and right at the edge of our campsite I noticed a few small blooming Sphaeralcea coccinea and collected Acmaeodera sp. mixta/immaculata, Agrilus sp., Enoclerus sp., and clytrine leaf beetles off their flowers. In the grassland area itself, I found several patches of Engelmannia peristenia in flower and collected several more of the Acmaeodera off their flowers along with occasional curculionoid weevils, meloids, and mordellids (the former for Bob Anderson, the second for Jeff Huether, and the latter for Enrique Ruzzier). As I searched the grassland, P. heroicus males continued to approach me in flight, and I captured also an Ospriocerus sp. robber fly. Other flowers were also encountered in different areas: the flowers of Thelesperma megapotamicum produced more Acmaeodera, and those of Ratibida columnifera produced the same along with a few mordellids and bees for Enrique and Mike. Mike had spent much of the past few hours in a sandstone barren on the west side of the campground, so I wandered over reasoning that he must be having good success. He was, and alerted me to a few interesting plants that might be good beetle hosts. I saw one of these right away—Melampodium leucanthum, flowers of which produced an interesting (and still unidentified) Acmaeodera earlier this spring in nearby Black Mesa, Oklahoma. Checking them produced not only the same Acmaeodera that I was collecting off the other other flowers, but also A. ligulata(?) (if it is that species, it must be a northeastern extension to its known range in southern New Mexico and Arizona). More A. ligulata(?) were collected on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis as well as Opuntia polyacantha along with Euphoria kernii and Enoclerus sp. I normally never see Acmaeodera in flowers of cholla (Cylindropuntia), but in this case I did find one A. sp. mixta/immaculata on the flower of C. imbricata. Having thoroughly searched the sandstone barren and seeing all that it had to offer, I walked over to the canyon top to enjoy the scenery and see what insects I might find in the area.
Atop Mill Canyon.
There was not much going on florally; however, I encountered a half-dead P. edulis and beat a Phaenops piniedulis from on of its dead branches. This is another species that seems far northeast of its normal range, but I have previously collected this species even further northeast at Gloss Mountain State Park in northwestern Oklahoma (publication pending)! We had seen some flowers along the roadside leading down the canyon, so I walked the upper canyon road to see if if there was anything on them. There was not, but when I turned back I encountered another P. heroicus—this one was perched on the branch of a small Quercus×undulatus. I suppose it is possible that it was attracted to the prionic acid residue on my hands and landed there unnoticed, but I’m now beginning to think all this diurnal activity is normal and has nothing to do with the prionic acid lures I handled the night before. At one point along the road, I encountered a few oak trees that must be Q. grisea (gray oak), a species I am familiar with from west Texas and from which I have collected many buprestids. Beating the living branches did produce one buprestid—Agrilaxia sp. (perhaps A. texana), but dang it I missed it! Continued beating failed to produce more but did produce a very nice series of Alaus lusciosus and a Lichenophanes sp., and nearing the top of the canyon I was again buzzed by a couple of P. heroicus males. The last insect I encountered before calling it for the afternoon was a single Moneilema armatum that I found on Opuntia phaeacantha—I had been checking Opuntia all day looking for Moneilema, and finally I found one!
A sinking sun in upper Mill Canyon.
Later in the evening, after processing the day’s catch and cooking dinner, I elected not to set up the lights due to the now quite windy conditions. This was a bit disappointing, as I was hopeful I could catch more Prionus emarginatus to go along with the single individual I had collected the night before. Instead, I decided to check the dead P. edulis in our campsite as well as the half-dead one over by the canyon top to see what might be on them at night. Only E. neomexicanus was found on the branches of the tree in our campsite, but no more Zopherus concolor (several of which I’d found on the tree the night before) were found. On the half-dead tree, however, I did find a couple of Z. concolor along with E. neomexicanus on its branches.
Sunset at Mill Rim Campground.
Venus shines brightly in the western sky.
Day 18
The next morning, Mike gave me a few beetles that he’d collected the day before—these included one A. ligulata(?) and one A. sp. mixta/immaculata that he’d collected on the flower of Xanthisma spinulosum and a couple of clytrine leaf beetles that he’d on the stem of Eriogonum tenellum. After we broke camp, I cut up a portion of the standing dead P. edulis in our campsite on which I had found Buprestis consularis and so many other beetles, taking home three bolts of the trunk (2–4” diameter) and five bolts of the main branches (1–2”) for rearing. (As I bundled up the wood, I could actually hear Monochamus larvae munching on the wood inside thetrunk.) There was much more wood left from the tree that I could’ve taken home, but there simply wasn’t enough room so I had to leave it. I hated the thought of the next campers coming to this campground, occupying this site, and finding the leftover wood… then burning it! I also hated the idea of leaving this place, since the insect collecting had been so fantastic. We were, however, nearing the final days of the trip, and if nothing else I wanted to see Copper Breaks State Park in Texas as a potential locality for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle).
It was another 6-hour driving day as we continued on our way back east towards what would prove to be the final collecting locality of the trip. Driving south through northeastern New Mexico was just as interesting (in a desolate sort of way) as the areas we’d already gone through, but as soon as we reached I-10 East and entered Texas, the landscape became a monotonous expanse of unbroken plains, with little other than seemingly endless windmill farms to provide fodder for conversation until we reached the city of Amarillo—apparently nothing more than a long strip along the highway populated by chain business in strip malls. Past Amarillo, our route (mercifully!) took us off the interstate onto equally monotonous roads until we neared our destination and began seeing “breaks” in the landscape. As we neared our the park we were greeted by juniper woodlands on a broken, undulating landscape that contrasted dramatically with the featureless scenery that led us there. It was almost as if we were at the edge of another plateau, like at Mill Canyon—albeit on a much smaller scale, giving me some optimism about our prospects for finding interesting insects.
Copper Breaks State Park HardemanCounty, Texas We arrived at the park just after the headquarters had closed and followed the road down into a riparian corridor to Kiowa Campground, where we found the perfect spot in a completely deserted campground. Getting out of the vehicle was like entering a sauna—gone was the cool, dry mountain air to which we had become accustomed over the past two weeks, replaced by thick, humid, warm air that saturated everything. At the same time, I was greeted by the sound of one of my favorite insects—Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada) males singing on trunks/branches of a grove of Sapindus drummondii near our campsite! I first encountered this Texas/Oklahoma specialty in the White River Hills of extreme southwestern Missouri back in the early 1980s, its sumptuous lime-green coloration and male song sounding like a chainsaw quickly elevating it to iconic status. Despite visiting the White River Hills frequently, I’ve only been there a few times during the right season to hear their distinctive song filling the air, so hearing and seeing them so abundantly in this location was, for me, a nice start.
Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) in riparian open woodland.
Exuvia, presumably belonging to Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada), which were the only dog-day cicadas singing in the area. The exuvia is fresh, and all adults seen look freshly emerged.
As dusk settled, I started setting up the lights hoping the warm, humid air and now moonless sky would result in some awesome insect collecting. A pesky storm system to the west, however, was drawing ever closer, and when winds started whipping I knew it was a lost cause and rushed to disassemble everything before the rain hit. It only rained a little bit, but it was enough to kill the blacklighting(!), and once the worst had passed I went over to the nearby restrooms to see if their incandescent building lights had attracted anything of interest. I picked up a few Canthon sp., elaterids, and carabids from under the lights and photographed a very large and impressive Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider) on the cement-block wall, then turned my attention to checking tree trunks and finding only a few tenebrionid and clerid beetles on them before turning in for the night.
Centruroides vittatus (striped bark scorpion—family Buthidae) preying on a cockroach nocturnally on a tree trunk in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Day 19
Our plan for today was simple—see if the insect collecting was good enough to warrant spending the day here, or if it was not make an early call to abort and head towards the Wichita Mountains in Oklahoma to complete the last day of insect collecting for the trip. It mattered not much to me in terms of driving back to St. Louis the next day—the 10-hour drive it would be from here was reasonable, so it really depended upon how the morning collecting went. I went with Mike to a breaks area just across the road from the campground where he wanted to set out bowl traps and explored the area. I was on the lookout for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle), which has not been seen in Texas since the 1930s near Wichita Falls—Dan Duran and I regarded this area to be the best possible refuge for them in the state, at least based on Google Earth photos. I was also in the lookout for any flowers that might attract beetles. In regards to the former, I became less optimistic about finding the tiger beetle here after seeing the habitat in person—it had the same gypsum-capped clay substrate where I’ve seen the tiger beetle further north in Oklahoma, but the gypsum was much more “broken” and eroded and lacked the large expanses of level ground that the beetles seem to need. In regards to the latter, the only blooming plants that I saw, at least with potential for beetles on them, was Helianthus annuus, from which I collected a few Batyle suturalis (and a few bees for Mike). I also found on the foliage of the plant an adult female Neobarrettia spinosa (red-eyed devil)—one of the most terrifyingly impressive (and appropriately named) katydids you’ll ever see! Not much else seemed to be going on in the area, and I had noticed many of the hackberries (Celtis reticulata) in the campground area were half-dead and bearing visible damage to their trunks and branches caused by longhorned beetles. I approached several of them, at first finding nothing on their trunks but eventually scaring up a couple of Chrysobothris sp. (prob. C. caddo) on thr lower trunk of one of the dying ones [2023-69b]. I continued around the outer campground area checking other dead/dying hackberries along the way and eventually happened along a few patches of Grindelia ciliata hosting small treehoppers (Vanduzea segmentata) in the upper stem leaf axils of the plants and being tended by even tinier ants. I was not aware there were other species in the genus besides V. arquata (which I’ve seen commonly on their exclusive host, Robinia pseudoacacia [black locust]), so I collected a series of the treehoppers along with a few of their protector ants.
Vanduzea segmentata (family Membracidae) adults and nymphs tended by ants on Grindelia ciliata (Spanish gold) in roadside vegetation along dry creek.
After searching a few more hackberry trees (unsuccessfully), I came upon one that was half-dead with a dead major branch coming out of its trunk. Something about it said “chop me” (I think it was the interface between living and dead wood—often a good place for woodboring beetle larvae to develop), and I began chipping away at the dead wood hoping to encounter larval galleries. Shortly enough, I did encounter a decent-sized cerambycid larva in the wood—it seemed large enough to be mature, so I put it in a vial with some pieces of wood with a thought to try to rear it to adulthood. That became less important when I encountered a pupa of presumably the same species—I put that in a vial with wood dust as well, opining that I would have a better possibility of rearing an adult from a pupa than a larva. Continued chipping away at the wood finally revealed a teneral adult cerambycid in its pupal cell—easily identifiable as Eburia haldemani (another species I have never collected before). I would eventually chop a second adult from the wood as well and then collect the remaining piece of wood for in-host rearing.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) unemerged teneral adult exposed in pupal cell in dead trunk wood of half-live Celtis reticulata.
By this time it was heating up and I needed some water, so I went back to the campsite before heading down to the Juniper Ridge Nature Trail, which I reasoned may have the best potential habitat for finding C. celeripes (if the species did, indeed, occur here). Along the way, I passed a large stump of C. reticulata that looked about the right age for developing woodboring beetle larvae, so I began chipping at the wood hoping to encounter Texania fulleri, a handsome buprestid that I’ve encountered only once before (in the trunk of a large, dead hackberry outside of San Antonio). I did not encounter that species, but I did encounter two more teneral adult E. haldemani as well as a second pupa, which I placed into individual vials for hardening (the adults) and emergence (the pupa).
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (ventral) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (dorsal) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Reaching the nature trail, I started exploring the rugged, up-and-down “breaks” terrain looking for any sign of C. celeripes. Again, the more I looked, the less I believed that this was a good locality for the species due to the highly eroded nature of the substrate with no unbroken, level expanses.
A broken badlands of gullies, mesas, and juniper “breaks.”
“Ripples” in Permian red sandstone and mudstone laid down by a vast inland sea are evidence of ancient wave action.
I was, however, finding flowers in bloom, and on them beetles. The most abundantly blooming plants were Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy)—previously seen to be a good Acmaeodera flower, and over the next couple of hours traversing the trail and exploring it’s off-trail nooks and crannies I collected a very nice series of A. obtusa along with a few Trichodes bibalteatus and mordellid beetles (the latter for Enrique) off its flowers.
Acmaeodera obtusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy) in juniper woodland.
Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerve daisy), another good Acmaeodera host, was also blooming, though much less abundantly than M. leucanthum, and I collected a few A. obtusa on its flowers as well. As I traversed the circuitous route through juniper woodland, male cicadas sang in the juniper trees, but consistently went silent on my approach before screeching noisily as they bolted and flew to another, usually very far away tree! I tried three times to catch one before finally succeeding. The species turned out to be Diceroprocta texana, a species I have collected before in the Monahans Sandhills of west Texas.
Diceroprocta texana (family Cicadidae) male singing in juniper tree in juniper woodland.
I also became fixated on collecting two of the robber flies that I was seeing—the mydas fly-mimicking Ospriocerus abdominalis, and the giant Microstylum galacticum, eventually succeeding in catching a couple in flight. Near the end of the trail I found a dead Chrysobothris sp. dead on ground, presumably it is C. caddo. There were no host trees anywhere near—perhaps it was dropped by a Cerceris fumipennis wasp that had captured and paralyzed it? At the southmost part of the trail there was a large patch of Gaillardia pulchella, which I had not seen on other parts of the trail. There weren’t many insects visiting its flowers, but I did collect another A. obtusa off of it.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard—family Crotaphytidae) on gypsum/clay breaks in juniper woodland.
By this point, I was really hot and dehydrated—any further collecting would have to wait until after I went back to the campsite and rejuvenated myself! Even that would have to wait, as I found several interesting insects right as I entered the campsite, the first being a dead Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada) on the ground at base of a large Populus deltoides (cottonwood) beside our tent. At first I thought it was M. dorsatus (prairie cicada—with which I am familiar from my boyhood collecting days outside of Kansas City), but I quickly determined its true identity after consulting online sources as yet another species I have never collected before now.
Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada—family Cicadidae) found dead at base of a cottonwood tree in juniper/mesquite woodland.
As I was putting the cicada in a vial, I noticed the distinctive black/white of a female Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer) chewing on the exposed root of the same cottonwood tree—this was also photographed and then put in a vial.
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) chewing on exposed root of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
Finally, I noticed the a flash of metallic green at the base of the trunk of a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in our campsite, immediately recognizable as indicating the presence of the über-charismatic Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer) [2023-69o]. Even though I have seen this species many times (and trapped literally hundreds of them over the years from dolomite glades across southern Missouri), they were for many years before that my “white whale,” and I still never tire of seeing them.
Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on base of trunk of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in picnic area.
By now it was apparent that there was more than enough of interest here to justify further exploration, making the decision whether to stay or to go an easy one. After resting, rehydrating, and refueling, I went back over to the adjacent group picnic area where I had seen additional gum bumelia trees this morning. I found not only another individual but also a mating pair of P. suaveolens (one of the pair got away). Movement around a nearby grove of C. reticulata caught my attention, and I realized it was a large Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle) flying around one of the standing dead trunks in the grove. I made a beeline for the grove (at least as much a beeline that these old legs can make now), and somehow managed to net it, then monitored the trunk for a while and picked off a couple more C. caddo and a Chariessa pilosa (pilose checkered beetle) that landed on it.
Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) taken in flight around a standing dead Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
When I reached the dying C. reticulata that I’d collected two C. caddo on this morning, there were many more on it as well as on a nearby tree—allowing me to collect quite a nice series, as well as C. pilosa and Neoclytus mucronatus.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) male searching on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) female ovipositing on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Promachus hinei (family Asilidae) preying on Asterocampa celtis (hackberry emperor butterfly) in campground.
On the way back to the campground, Mike called my attention to another P. scalator that was in the act of ovipositing at the base of another large cottonwood in the campground and said that he’d found two more while I was gone. We watched the female complete oviposition, then I looked for more at the bases of other cottonwoods throughout the general campground area, finding three more for a total series of seven individuals—by far the most individuals of this species that I have seen at one time!
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) female ovipositing in soil at base of trunk of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
After another break for an ice run into town and a delicious “last supper” of some of the thickest brats I’ve ever had (jalapeño and cheddar, grilled of course, with lots of mustard!), I turned on the lights and hoped for a successful final collecting act for the trip. This was only the second night (out of 19!) that I was able to run the lights for nighttime insects—every other night it was either too cold, too windy (usually both), and it was especially frustrating last night after getting stormed out just as I began to set things up. The night did not disappoint! Insects starting coming in right away, the most notable early catches being another M. dealbatus and several individuals of a tiny cicada (perhaps Pacarina puella?), a specimen of which I had tried to salvage from a spider web earlier in the day but which fell apart as I was doing so. In addition to the overwhelmingly abundant N. superbus, this gave me four species of cicadas from the park. Tiger beetles featured prominently also—in addition to several Cicindelidia punctulata (expected), I also collected several Ellipsoptera cuprascens/macra, a couple of Tetracha carolina, and one Eunota circumpicta (I was disappointed, however, in my repeated failure to collect a Eunota togata that kept appearing at the light and then eluding my bottle!). Around 11:00 I turned off the MV light (to allow the UVs to pull in the shyer species) and walked over to the picnic area where I had collected so many C. caddo off of half-dead C. reticulata. This also did not disappoint, as I collected not only a diversity of longhorned beetles such as Amniscus sexguttata and Elytrimitatrix undatus but three individuals of Eburia haldemani—now I had more than just the teneral adults that I’d chopped out of the trees earlier in the day. Walking back to the UV light, there was not only another E. haldemani at the light but also another P. scalator along with several other longhorned beetle species. I probably could have continued going for another couple of hours, but it was approaching midnight and I was exhausted. I turned in knowing that I got to experience a fantastic final insect collecting act for the trip!
Aphonopelma armada (Texas black spot tarantula—family Theraphosidae) attracted to MV/UV light in cottonwood woodland.
Day 20
The drive back to St. Louis (Day 20) was typically boring—long stretches of travel on interstate highways with no prospect of a cool native habitat to look forward to. However, it provided time to reflect on the successes and frustrations of the trip, muse over some of the humorous experiences we’d had, and contemplate where we might want to go in future excursions. At 8:00 p.m. (after 4,519 miles and 92½ hours in the vehicle), I pulled into my driveway, unloaded the vehicle, and bade adieu to Mike—for the time being!
Welcome to the 12th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering a 22-day insect collecting trip (my longest in more than 20 years!) encompassing six states from May 15 to June 6, 2022. The trip started out with two days of setting traps in southern Illinois and across southern Missouri, continued with nine days of collecting in western Texas, three days of collecting in southeastern New Mexico and five days of collecting in southeastern Arizona, and ended with a day of collecting in extreme northwestern Oklahoma at the halfway point during the long drive back to St. Louis. Along the way, I teamed up with six different people during different parts of the trip—Jason Hansen, Joshua Basham, and Tyler Hedlund in Texas and New Mexico and Norm Woodley, Steve Lingafelter, and Paul Kaufman in Arizona.
Salt Lick Point Land & Water Preserve Monroe Co., Illinois I’m on my way to west Texas for a couple of weeks and southern Arizona for another week afterwards, but it’ll take a few days to get there while I hang insect traps here in southern Illinois and at a bunch of localities in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. The traps are based on an idea from fellow cerambycid specialist Dan Heffern, who calls them “jug traps”. The traps utilize 8-oz bottles of 200 proof ethanol suspended inside a 1-G milk/water jug. A hole is drilled in the lid of the 8-oz bottle and a wick inserted to moderate release of the ethanol, which attracts the beetles. 500 mL of a 50:50 mixture of polypropylene glycol and water is placed in the bottom of the jug to act as a killing agent and preservative for beetles that are attracted to the trap and fall into the it. Early testing by Dan suggests the ethanol bait can last up to 4–6 weeks and the beetles that fall into the traps don’t decompose within that time period, enabling them to be placed at much more remote locations than the fermenting bait traps that I have been utilizing for many years now in the glades of Jefferson Co. just south of St. Louis but which need to be checked weekly. For my part, I am placing two traps at each location—one with pure 200 proof ethanol and another with a 50:50 mixture of ethanol and red wine (the latter is cheaper and works well as a beetle attractant on its own). If the mixture works as well as pure ethanol (remains to be seen), it would be a way to reduce cost.
Assembled jug trap with 50:50 red wine:ethanol in inner bait bottle and 500 mL 50:50 polypropylene glycol:water in the reservoir of jug.
I chose this location based on a visit last fall with the WGNSS Botany Group, during which we found Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia)—host of the strikingly spectacular Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer) and one tree in particular that showed evidence of active larval infestation by the telltale pile of frass at the base of the living tree. The trees are growing in dry hilltop forest adjacent to a renovated hilltop prairie remnant, and the beetle has not been formally reported from Illinois. I’ve had good luck trapping this beetle in the glades south of St. Louis, so I am hopeful these traps will also be effective and that I can document the occurrence of bumelia borer in Illinois.
Jug trap bait bottle hanging mechanism.
It was a tough hike—mostly uphill and I was trying to get in and out quickly. I had a bit of trouble locating the infested tree that we’d seen last fall (even with the location GPS recorded), but eventually I found it. At first, I had trouble throwing the carabiner and rope over a high branch—my slingshot idea with the rope tied to the carabiner did not work, so I ended up just throwing it and succeeded only after many attempts to develop my “technique.” Then, horrors… somehow the bottle carrying the mixture of red wine and ethanol broke and spilled much of the contents into my backpack. Fortunately, there was just enough remaining in the bottle to mostly fill the 8-oz bait bottle. From that point, the rest of the trap went together as planned, and I hoisted it high above eye level before assembling the ethanol-only trap and placing it about 100 feet from the first. The longer-than-I-remembered hike and problems with the first trap already had me close to an hour off schedule, so I hoofed it back to the car as quickly as I could, stopping only briefly to pick up a tiny Glaphyrocanthon viridis (one of our tiniest dung beetles) that I saw land on the trail. When I got back to the car and checked my recorded track, I noticed that I had made it about three-fourths of the way around the trail and could have saved time had I simply completed the circuit rather than doubling back! Ugh—an inauspicious start to a long trip!
Papilio glaucus (eastern tiger swallowtail).
St. Joe State Park St. Francois Co., Missouri This is another location that I visited recently with the WGNSS Botany Group and noted the occurrence of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in the dry post oak woodland bordering the bicycle trail south of the Harris Branch Trailhead. I hung a wine:ethanol trap not far from the parking lot on the west side of the trail and an ethanol-only trap about 300 feet further south on the east side of the trail.
Acmaeodera ornata (ornate yellow-marked buprestid) on flower of Coreopsis lanceolata (lance-leaved coreopsis).
When I returned to the car, somebody had used a sparkly wrist strap to tie a bicycle key chain to my door handle. I’m not sure if it was a gift from a fellow cyclist who recognized my “Share the Road” license plate or simply a random act of kindness—either way, I think I’ll hang the bicycle from my rear view mirror!
Gifts for me!
Hughes Mountain Natural Area Iron Co., Missouri This area features dry post oak woodlands surrounding xeric igneous prairie (glades). I’m not aware of the presence of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in these (or any other) igneous glades, but the post oak woodlands could support many other longhorned beetles that are attracted to ethanol and fermenting bait traps (especially species of Purpuricenus). I placed a wine:ethanol trap at the north end of the first glades and an ethanol-only trap just past the south end about 1/10 of a mile away.
Acmaeodera tubulus (family Buprestidae) on flower of Rubus sp. (wild blackberry) in dry-mesic upland deciduous forest.
Russell Mountain Trailhead Iron Co., Missouri This is another area with igneous glades surrounded by dry post oak woodland. I hung a wine:ethanol trap at the north end of the first glade and an ethanol-only trap at the south end about 400 feet away. While I was hanging the first trap, I saw a ground beetle (family Carabidae) crawling over the moss-covered rocks under the tree. I believe it is a species in the genus Dicaelus (notched-mouthed ground beetles).
Dicaelus sp. (notched-mouth ground beetle) in xeric rhyolite prairie.
Silene virginica (fire pink) in igneous post oak woodland.
Tradescantia longipes (wild crocus) in dry rhyolite forest.
Phemeranthus calcyinus (large-flowered fameflower) in xeric rhyolite prairie.
Peck Ranch Conservation Area Stegall Mountain Natural Area Carter Co., Missouri This area has some of the most extensive igneous glades in southeastern Missouri, and it’s remote location makes it an attractive spot for placing traps. Unfortunately, the entire natural area —glades and surrounding woodlands—has been subjected to a recent prescribed burn. I’ve never had much luck collecting in recently-burned habitats, so I had little hope that placing traps here would be worth the effort. Nevertheless, I was there and figured if nothing else it would be a chance to gather some objective data comparing a recently-burned area with similar non-burned areas. I hung a wine:ethanol trap at the north end of the glade next to the fire tower and an ethanol-only trap in the dry post oak woodland about 400 feet to the southwest.
Recently-burned xeric igneous prairie (glade).
Fire tower.
I cannot claim those stairs.
Peck Ranch Conservation Area Cater Co., Missouri I had originally planned to hang these traps at Mule Hollow Glade Natural Area—also in Peck Ranch Conservation Area but distinct from Stegall Mountain by the fact that the glade substrate is limestone rather than rhyolite. This results in a calcareous versus acidic environment and a completely different (and richer) glade flora—including potentially Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) and its beetle associate Plinthocoelium suaveolens. Sadly, after driving from Stegall Mountain through this enormous conservation area for about half an hour, I encountered a gate that prevented access to the glades. It was late in the day, and rather than drop the location, I decided to just hang traps where I ended up—a dry-mesic upland deciduous forest apparently with a chert substrate. I hung a wine:ethanol trap near the car on the east side of the road leading south behind the gate and an ethanol-only trap also on the east side of the road about 230 feet further south.
Penstemon pallidus (pale beardtongue).
Day 2 – Setting out more jug traps!
Mark Twain National Forest Bald Hill Glade Natural Area Ripley Co., Missouri I’d hoped to make it here yesterday, but the day just ran out and I ended up spending the night in Doniphan. A great little coffee shop in town put me in the right frame of mind this morning to make the trek into this—one of the most beautifully remote high-quality glades in all of Missouri. The Forest Service roads leading to the glade become increasingly rough the closer one gets, and the final 1-mile spur required a bit of log/branch removal to pass through and even bushwhacking around and under fallen trees before an impassable blockage about halfway down. The last half-mile has been abandoned for at least 10 years, and walking it by foot required a keen sense of reading the forest to discern the barely visible remnant path.
Ethanol-baited jug trap in Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.
At last, I made it to the glade proper—a gorgeous tract of remnant xeric dolomite prairie (glade) with dry post oak woodlands interspersed within and surrounding the glades. I hung a wine:ethanol trap in a post oak on the east side of the main glade (past the first small glade) and an ethanol-only trap in a gum bumelia tree at the opposite end of the glade about 1/10 of a mile to the southwest. Along the way, I photographed and collected Nemognatha nemorensis (a blister beetle—family Meloidae) on a flower of Coreopsis lanceolata (lanceleaf coreopsis).
Nemognatha nemorensis (family Meloidae) on flower of Coreopsis lanceolata (lanceleaf coreopsis) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.
As with the first stop yesterday, I underestimated the time needed to hike to the glade, hang the traps, and get back to the car, so by that time I was already off schedule. Nevertheless, considering the quality of the area, I decided to hang one of the two Lindgren funnel traps (baited with ethanol) near the car.
Shortly after turning off the spur onto the Forest Service road, I passed by a branch that looked suspiciously “pruned” (i.e., cut from the inside by a cerambycid larva). I stopped and walked back to the branch, which turned out to be Carya alba (mockernut hickory), and the size of the branch at the cut (~1” diameter) suggested it could be the work of Purpuricenus axillaris, a beautiful orange and black species that is very uncommonly encountered. I pruned off the excess twigs and collected the branch for rearing.
Caney Mountain Conservation Area Long Bald Glade Natural Area Ozark Co., Missouri After finishing up at Bald Hill Glade, I blasted two hours west to Caney Mountain Conservation Area at the eastern edge of the White River Hills region in southwestern Missouri. The White River Hills is perhaps my favorite area in Missouri—I have collected insects at many spots here over the years, a number of which occur in Missouri only in this part of the state. Caney Mountain is only one of the sites I’ve selected for placing traps, but like the previous site it contains some of the highest quality and most beautifully remote xeric dolomite prairie remnants (glades) in the state—especially on the far west side of the area in and around Long Bald Glade Natural Area.
Acmaeodera neglecta (family Buprestidae) on flower of Coreopsis lanceolata (lanceleaf coreopsis) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.
As before, I hung a wine:ethanol trap in a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) tree on the west side of the first glade and an ethanol-only trap in another gum bumelia tree on the north side of the main glade about 1/8 of a mile west of the first trap. I also hung a second Lindgren funnel trap here—when I arrived at the site, I’d noticed a large area of post oak woodland on the other side of the road had recently been thinned (via chainsaw). With all the dead wood laying around (in a cool natural community), it almost screamed for a trap, so I baited it with ethanol and hung it right smack in the middle of the renovated area.
Ethanol-baited Lindgren funnel trap in dry post oak woodland.
By this time, the day was starting to get away and I still had four locations that I wanted to hang traps. With six hours of daylight left, it would be a stretch to get to all four, so I avoided the temptation to spend any more time poking around in this fantastic site and headed to the next location further west.
Mark Twain National Forest “Blackjack Knob” Taney Co., Missouri I’ve been to this knob several times and collected good numbers of Missouri’s disjunct population of the spectacular Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina (prairie tiger beetle) as well as discovered the larva of Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer) in the root of a living Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) tree. There is lots of gum bumelia at this spot, and since it is right along the highway and I could hang traps here quickly, I added the spot to my list of locations. I hung a wine:ethanol trap in a gum bumelia tree on the south side of the knob and an ethanol-only trap in another gum bumelia tree on the north side of the knob about 300 feet north of the first trap.
Sisyrinchium campestre (prairie blue-eyed grass) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.
Mark Twain National Forest Hercules Glades Wilderness Taney Co., Missouri Hercules Glades Wilderness contains some of the largest intact remnants of xeric dolomite prairie in the entire White River Hills region. Unlike those of other areas managed by state and federal conservation agencies, this designated wilderness has a “no management” mandate. As a result, there has been no effort to remove woody vegetation, either by chainsaw or by prescribed burning. While plenty of intact glade habitat remains, the margins and surrounding dry post oak woodlands are heavily colonized by Juniperus virginiana (eastern red-cedar)—a native tree that was historically restricted to bluffs and ledges but has since adapted to encroaching in glades and prairies as a result of fire suppression over the past one and a half centuries. I hung a wine:ethanol trap in a red-cedar near a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) tree at the north end of the first glade and an ethanol-only trap in another red-cedar near gum bumelia about 450 feet to the southeast.
Along the trail in the dry oak-juniper woodland before reaching the glade, I found a Geotrupes splendidus (splendid earth-boring beetle) on its back waving its legs in the air. I flipped it over, took a photograph, and popped it in a vial.
Geotrupes splendidus (splendid earth-boring beetle) on trail in dry oak-juniper woodland.
Mincy Conservation Area Taney Co., Missouri Mincy Conservation Area is another area in Taney Co. with high quality remnant xeric dolomite prairie (glades). I have been here many times, and I couldn’t imagine placing traps in the White River Hills and not including this place. I hung a wine:ethanol trap in a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) tree at the north end of the glade across the road from the campground area and an ethanol-only trap in another gum bumelia at the southwest end about 1/8 mile from the first trap.
A marvelously cryptic Dolomedes albineus (whitebanded fishing spider) on the trunk of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in xeric dolomite prairie.
Ethanol-baited jug trap in Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant during late evening.
Roaring River State Park ChuteRidge Glade Barry Co., Missouri I got here right at sunset, so I knew I would have to work quickly to get two traps hung before I completely ran out of daylight. This high-quality xeric dolomite prairie remnant (glade) has undergone extensive renovation over the past 25 years since I first began coming here, and it’s character is now much improved compared to those early days. I hung a red wine:ethanol trap in a Quercus stellata (post oak) tree near some Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in the treeline about halfway up the slope at mid-glade. It was at that time that I noticed the bait bottle was missing from the second trap, so I had to hustle back to the car in the waiting light to retrieve another trap. It was too dark by then to wander back up into the main glade, so I walked the 2-track near the road to the north end of the glade and then east up the slope until I encountered an area where gum bumelia was growing, hanging an ethanol-only trap in a nearby hickory tree about 1/6 mile north of the first trap.
Psellidotus snowi (family Stratiomyidae) on flower of Coreopsis lanceolata (lanceleaf coreopsis) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant. ID by Martin Hauser.
As I walked the 2-track, I heard the call of nighthawks flying overhead—a familiar sound during the day and early evening when in the glades. Once I started hanging the trap, the oncoming cloak of darkness was announced by the whip-poor-wills (a relative of the nighthawk, both species belonging to the “goatsucker” family). If that was not enough, a Chuck-wills-widow—yet another nighthawk relative—joined the chorus! It was a magical moment of pure natural history to celebrate the completion of my trap placing effort, after which I pointed the car towards west Texas (or at least Fort Smith, Arkansas) for the night before the long drive tomorrow.
Xeric dolomite prairie remnant at sunset!
Day 3 – Travel to West Texas
Fire southwest of Abilene, Texas.
GoldMine Canyon Val Verde Co., Texas Today was a long, lonely, 11-hour drive from Ft. Smith, Arkansas to Dave Barker’s cabin above Gold Mine Canyon. I first came here last year a bit earlier in May with Rich Thoma to meet up with Dan Heffern, Brian Raber, and Ed Riley. Dave has been kind enough to make his cabin available to naturalists interested in studying the flora and fauna of the area around his cabin, and after getting a taste of the area last year I wanted to come back again and see it a tad bit later in the season. This time I met up with Jason Hansen, Joshua Basham, and Tyler Hedlund. The area got some rain in late April but has been dry since—and looked it. Nevertheless, insect activity at the lights (mercury-vapor and ultraviolet) was fairly high, although mostly moths and blister beetles. I did pick up one elaphidiine, a series of Hybosorus illigeri, and a few photogenic robber flies.
Efferia sp. male (family Asilidae) at mercury-vapor light in juniper chaparral.
Efferia sp. female (family Asilidae) at mercury-vapor light in juniper chaparral.
Brachynemurus sackeni (Sacken’s antlion) at mercury-vapor light in juniper chaparral.
Eventually the wind picked up to the point where I was worried about my light setup being blown down, so I took down the setup and searched (unsuccessfully) for Moneilema cactus beetles on the nearby Opuntia sp. (pricklypear cactus).
Day 4 – Devils River Area
Gold Mine Canyon Val Verde Co., Texas We stayed in the vicinity of the cabin to see what we could find. I wasn’t optimistic because of how dry everything looked but headed up the 2-track leading east of the cabin. Even though I was here earlier in May last year, things didn’t seem as far along—the Diospyros texanus (Texas persimmon) trees were just beginning to leaf out, and I didn’t see any of the plants in bloom that I’d seen last year such as Coreopsis or Opuntia. As I walked the 2-track, I noted a persimmon with emergence holes in the trunk that matched the size and shape expected for Spectralia robusta. The holes appeared fresh, suggesting there could still be some beetles inside, so I flagged the branch for later collection and rearing. Having flagged the tree, I decided I should beat the branches just in case, and a fresh adult landed on the sheet—sweet! I’ve collected this species before, but it was many years ago and I’d forgotten how pulverescent the adults are and how (unfortunately) the pulverescence rubs off when touched or placed in the kill vial, making it almost impossible to preserve. I focused on beating persimmons for the next hour, ending up with seven specimens, all of which were collected in the immediate vicinity of the tree that I’d originally flagged.
Hemiargus ceraunus (Ceraunus blue).
I had beaten a few other trees as well but wasn’t seeing anything, and by now temperatures were starting to soar, so I went back to the cabin to rehydrate and trade my aerial net for my sweep net so I could do some general sweeping. I worked my way back to the farthest point I’d gone before and shortly afterwards encountered Echinocereus enneacanthus carnosus (strawberry cactus) in bloom. To my surprise, I saw several Acmaeodera adults on the blossom, so I collected them with my aspirator and immediately thought of the larger clump of strawberry cactus blooms I’d checked earlier and not seen anything and then passed by this time. Again, there were quite a few Acmaeodera adults on the blossoms. As I collected the adults, others continued to fly in to the flowers, so I roamed back and forth between the two clumps collecting the adults until no more were seen. There were at least four species—the commonly encountered A. quadravittatoides and A. neoneglecta, the much rarer A. starrae (which I collected for the first time last year in Comstock) [Edit: I now regard these as A. robigo, also quite rare], and a fourth species that I didn’t immediatelyrecognize. In shuffling through the possibilities in my mind, A. riograndei came up based on my recollection of Nelson’s illustration of the species in the original description. I walked further east down the 2-track and encountered another cluster of plants in bloom, allowing me to increase my series of all four species. By then, temperatures were approaching 100°F and I was also hungry, so I returned to the cabin to rehydrate, eat, and rest to avoid pushing myself too hard. When Jason returned to the cabin later, he had also found the same four species on cactus flowers, and we both agreed the mystery species was A. riograndei—the first time either of us had seen this very rarely collected species.
Echinocereus enneacanthus carnosus (strawberry cactus) in juniper chaparral.
Acmaeodera robigo on flower of Echinocereus enneacantha carnosus (strawberry cactus).
Acmaeodera riograndei on flower of Echinocereus enneacantha carnosus (strawberry cactus).
Once I felt energetic enough, I braved one more trip even further down the 2-track to where it crosses the canyon, the latter in which Joshua had seen strawberry cactus flowers in bloom and collected all four species himself. I hoped to find a few more A. riograndei, as I had only a handful of specimens of that species. Joshua came along, and together were located and worked as many plants in bloom as we could find. It was hard work—the plants were very sparsely distributed and mostly on the steep-sloped portions of the canyon walls or up on top where footing was precarious. Most plants had the two common species, and I managed to collect several more A. starrae as well, but I never saw another A. riograndei until after we’d been out there for a couple of hours and I was almost ready to collapse from the heat (temps were by then ~105°F!). On the same flower that I finally found A. riograndei, I also found a fifth species—A. gillespiensis, a west Texas specialty. That was one of the last plants in bloom that I found before working my way back down into the canyon and heading back to the canyon. I really thought I was going to collapse from the heat before I got there, and I needed the rest of the afternoon to rehydrate and all evening to recover. It was too windy to blacklight, which was probably fortunate because I really needed to take it easy during the evening and let myself recover.
Bee fly (subfamily Bombyliinae) in juniper chaparral.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard) in juniper chaparral.
Day 5 – Devils River area (cont.)
Devils River near Dry Devils River Val Verde Co., Texas We carpooled to a spot along the west side of Devils River that required fording the river and then traversing some of the roughest, rockiest roads I’ve ever traveled (my new Bronco Sport Badlands, chosen for just such roads, handled everything perfectly). There is a stand of mature Carya illinoiensis (pecan) along the river that Joshua and I headed straight for, suspecting they might harbor Anthaxia caryae. We spent a fair bit of time beating the lower reachable branches, and I spent even more time afterwards using the extensible net to sweep the upper branches. A single adult—on one of the first few branches that I beat—was all we got for our efforts. I also collected a little chlamisine chrysomelid by sweeping Salvia sp., but otherwise I saw little insect activity. Joshua had been beating the nearby oaks while I was working the pecans, and when I passed by he said he hadn’t gotten anything off the oaks either. I walked back up to the bluffs overlooking the river to see if I could find cacti in bloom but found no Opuntia (pricklypear cactus) and only the infrequent Echinocereus enneacanthaintermedius (strawberry cactus) in bloom. Despite the generally poor condition of most of the flowers, I still managed to collect the same four Acmaeodera that we collected yesterday—including several A. starrae and two A. riograndei. While I looked for cacti, I also beat any Diospyros texana (Texas persimmon) that I encountered hoping to find more Spectralia robusta or the small Agrilus sp. that Tyler collected yesterday off the same at Gold Mine Canyon (I’m thinking it must be A. lautuellus), but all I collected was a single weevil and a single tenebrionid. By this time it was getting hotter than blazes, and we all returned to the car, drank some fluids and ate a bit, and decided the best way to spend the next two hours—the hottest part of the day—was by sitting in the river. We had no swim trunks, but underwear served the purpose just as well!
Zeltnera calycosa (Arizona or Buckley’s centaury) on limestone bluffs.
Zeltnera calycosa (Arizona or Buckley’s centaury).
Zeltnera calycosa (Arizona or Buckley’s centaury).
Gold Mine Canyon Val Verde Co., Texas After cooling off in the river and returning to the cabin, Jason and Joshua wanted to go check out the patches of Echinocereus enneacanthacarnosus (strawberry cactus) from which we’d collected so many Acmaeodera to look for more A. riograndei, and Tyler and I decided to hike down to the canyon where he had collected a few Agrilus sp. on Diospyros texana (Texas persimmon). Along the way we beat some of the persimmon trees where Tyler had collected a few Spectralia robusta but found only a single epitragine tenebrionid. We also encountered a single strawberry cactus patch with a couple of closed blooms, and as I approached to see if any Acmaeodera were on the flowers I saw one approaching the flowers in flight. I instinctively swiped the net and caught it, and when I pulled it from the net I saw it was another A. riograndei. I must have around ten specimens of this species now—a nice series of a rare species for my collection. We had to pick a rough and precarious path to reach the canyon bottom, but once we did we started beating the persimmons on which he’d collected the Agrilus sp. (prob. A. lautuellus). Almost immediately he found another one and gave it to me (what a guy!), and we continued working the trees down the canyon. We did not see any more for awhile, but then suddenly I hit a hit spot where I collected one or a few off of successive plants, ending up with a total of nine specimens. Tyler never did find another one after that first specimen (but he’d collected a small series yesterday so he was fine). Once we worked all the persimmon that we could find, we worked our way up the canyon walls on the south side to look for more strawberry cactus flowers with Acmaeodera. We found a few plants here and there, but in all cases the flowers were closed and no Acmaeodera were seen—I suspect the flowers close and the Acmaeodera stop flying as a matter of routine at this time of day (now early evening). As we worked our way east above the canyon to a point where we could cross back over to the cabin, we beat persimmon, but I collected only a single anthribid. By this time we were hungry and thirsty and hoofed it back to the canyon to eat and get ready for blacklighting.
Late afternoon sun over Gold Mine Canyon.
Winds were not as bad as they were last night (and I was feeling much better than I did last night, having taken better care to keep myself fueled and hydrated), so we were anxious to put up the lights and see if we could collect cerambycids. I put up my mercury-vapor/ultraviolet light combination just east of the cabin, while Jason set up his mercury-vapor light on the west side. I picked up a few miscellaneous insects from each over the next hour after it got dark, but I hadn’t yet seen a single cerambycid and started exploring the surrounding area with Tyler. Not far from my lights I found an elaphidiine cerambycid on the 2-track—most likely it had been pulled to the area by the mercury-vapor lamp but landed in the area rather than coming all the way to the light. I tried (and failed) to photograph a mutillid female, so I collected it instead, and we found a cool Stenomorpha sp. [Edit: since identified as S.furcata] (family Tenebrionidae) and some very impressive arachnids (two Hogna carolinensis wolf spiders—one juvenile and one adult female, a Centruroides vittatus scorpion, and a sun spider—Eremobatesnodularis)—all of which I did manage to photograph! Coming back to the lights, my generator had run out of gas and the lights died, so we brought the ultraviolet lights over to Jason’s setup and turned off his mercury-vapor lamp to encourage cerambycids that had been attracted to the area to come on in to the lights. A couple of Lagocheirus sp. turned up (Jason and Tyler got them), and I got a couple of Aneflomorpha sp. and one Elaphidionopsis fasciatipennis—a species I have not collected commonly. This would be the last beetle I collected on the evening, bringing to a close a second hot but relatively successful day of collecting. Tomorrow we will leave the cabin and start working our way west towards the Davis Mountains.
Sunset over Gold Mine Canyon.
Stenomorphafurcata. (family Tenebrionidae).
Centruroides vittatus (striped bark scorpion).
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider) juvenile.
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider) adult female.
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider) adult female.
Eremobatesnodularis (order Solifugae).
Eremobatesnodularis (order Solifugae).
Day 6 – To Comstock area
22 mi N Del Rio – Jct Hwys 277 & 377 Val Verde Co., Texas We left Dave’s cabin in the morning, and on our way out to the Comstock area we stopped at this intersection where last May I collected Agrilus obtusus on Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna). I got four more this time as well in the small patch of plants just inside the fence, but when I went up the north side where there used to be many more plants, I was disappointed to find that the highway department had dumped multiple loads of gravel over the area. Still, there were other plants in flower closer to the roadside, and when I went to look at them I noticed right away Batyle suturalis, Acmaeodera ornatoides, A. neoneglecta, and A. mixta on flowers of Thelosperma simplicifolium (slender greenthread). Over the next half hour or so, I collected more of the same plus a few additional species (including A. paradisjuncta) in smaller numbers. Another Batyle was taken off the flowers of Ratibida columnifera, but then I noticed Acmaeodera starrae on the small, low-growing flowers of Pinaropappus roseus (white rock-lettuce) and focused on those flowers, ending up with a fair series collected almost exclusively on the flowers of that plant save for single exceptions on the flowers of Sida abutifolia (spreading sida) and Stenaria nigricans (diamond-flowers). I found it interesting that no A. starrae were taken on the flowers of the much more abundant Thelosperma. To the contrary, I did find a few individuals of A. mixta and A. neoneglecta on the flowers of Pinaropappus.
Agrilus obtusus (family Buprestidae) mating pair on foliage of Senna roemeriana (twoleaf senna).
Thelesperma simplicifolium (slender greenthread).
Pinaropappus roseus (white rock-lettuce).
Sida abutifolia (spreading sida).
Stenaria nigricans (diamond-flowers).
11.5 mi SE Comstock on Hwy 90 Val Verde Co., Texas Jason has collected Agrilus esperanzae and Acmaeodera opuntiae at this spot during previous visits—two species I’ve not yet collected myself, so we stopped here to try our luck. Sweeping along the mesquite/acacia fence line produced only one Agrilus—not A. esperanzae (probably A. addendus)—and a smattering of other beetles; however, we were successful in our quest for A. opuntia, which we found on the flowers of Tiquilia canescens (shrubby tiquilia). They were not common and required a lot of effort to see and capture—sweeping was ineffective because of the very low-growing nature of the plants, and since the beetles are among the smallest Acmaeodera there are I had to crouch over each flowering plant and inspect carefully (under overwhelming heat). Fortunately, I was able to successfully aspirate them once I did see them, and I ended up with a small handful along with similar numbers of A. neoneglecta and A. starrae. The adults of A. opuntiae are unlike those I have in my collection collected by Ed Riley further south—the vittae are more broken, giving them a linearly-spotted rather than vittate appearance. One cool find was the blister beetle Pleuropasta reticulata—one of the two I captured going to Tyler since he had actually targeted that species for the trip.
After a hydration break, I went to the other side of the highway where a nice stand of Thelosperma filifolium (stiff greenthread) was hosting Acmaeodera and off which I collected a few A. miliaris and A. princeps amongst the more common A. mixta. There were also a few flowering Tiquilia plants on that side, and while I did collect a few more A. starrae and A. neoneglecta I did not see A. opuntiae. By then the heat had gotten to me and I worked my way back to the car—save for the efforts given to photograph a couple of robber flies and some neonate coreids.
Acmaeodera mixta (family Buprestidae) mating pair on flower of Thelosperma filiformis (stiff greenthread).
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) female.
Ospriocerus aeacus (family Asilidae).
Newly hatched leaffooted bugs (family Coreidae) aggregating near egg shells.
Devils River at Bakers Crossing Val Verde Co., Texas After getting a hotel in town (I’m looking forward to a hot shower instead of a cold river, for once), we headed north on Hwy 163, along which Jason has had good collecting in the past. The first stop just north of Comstock was not productive despite the verdant plant growth, so we continued north to Bakers Crossing at the Devils River. It was now early evening, so the heat had broken, and immediately we started finding beetles by beating the various trees. I collected one Chrysobothris rossi, one Euderces reichei, and a weevil on Sapindus saponaria (soapberry), but it wasn’t until I started beating Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) that the beetles started “raining” onto the sheet! Chrysobothris rossi was abundant—sometimes two or three falling into the sheet at once and scattering immediately despite the cooler temps. It took me a bit of time to perfect my technique to avoid losing as many as I was getting. Smaller numbers were also collected from dead branches of Vachellia constricta (white-thorn acacia), and just as dusk was falling I found numerous Stenosphenus dolosus bedded down on the thorny branches of Zizyphus obtusifolium. I also collected a couple more C. rossi on dead branches of Celtis sp. before calling it quits.
Danaus gilippus (queen butterfly) mating pair.
Stenosphenus dolosus (family Cerambycidae) mating pair on Zizyphus obtusifolia (lotebush).
Due to the lateness of the hour, and since it seemed to be such a good spot, we decided to stay out and put up the lights. Jason setup his mercury-vapor (MV) light closer to the river, while I put my MV/ultraviolet lights in the area where I had been beating. I collected a fair number of cerambycids (not a lot) and a variety of other beetles from the two lights while we waited for our coals to heat up so we could cook some dinner (a fiasco to recount on future trips).
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider) adult female.
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider) adult female.
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider) adult female.
Corydalusluteus (family Corydalidae).
Day 7 – Pecos River area
The motel owner tooled around in his MAGA-mobile. Photo by Jason Hansen.
MAGA Power! Note Mike Pence’s name covered with “Impeach The Democrats” scrawled on duct tape. Photo by Jason Hansen.
Pecos River at Hwy 90 Val Verde Co., Texas We awoke to much cooler temperatures (hallelujah!) thanks to a cold front that moved through the area last night, though without the 40% forecasted chance of rain (also good). Our plan today was to work the area around the Pecos River and then look for oaks in nearby Seminole Canyon State Park.
Pecos River at Hwy 90 bridge.
Pecos River at Hwy 90 bridge.
On top near where we pulled the vehicles off the road, I beat a Chrysobothris rossi off dead Vachellia rigidula (blackbrush acacia)—many of which had been killed in the great Texas freeze two winters ago. About that time, Jason and Tyler called me over to look at a buprestid larvae they had beaten from a dead branch of the same—it was not chrysobothrine or agriline, and based on the size of the many emergence holes observed in the branches of this tree we suspected either Xenorhipis osborni (which I have reared from this plant at this location in the past) or a small species of Acmaeodera. Jason collected the larva, and we both collected branches to bring back for rearing. Nearby I found another dead tree of the same but noted a complete absence of emergence holes, yet when I broke apart one of the branches I found a buprestid larvae just like the previous (as well as a C. rossi adult on the branch) and collected some branches for rearing from that plant as well.
Hemiargus ceraunus (Ceraunus blue).
I noted a few flowers of Ruellia parryi (Parry’s petunia)—in my experience other species of this genus are good attractors of Acmaeodera—but did not see any adults. The day was still cool and cloudy, so I hoped I might see some later after it warmed up and the sun came out.
Ruellia parryi (Parry’s ruellia).
I crossed over the highway about halfway down since the others had gone further down on the side I was on, wanting to avoid working trees they’d already worked, and found a fence crossover stand at the bottom under the bridge. I’d never been down that far before or noticed the crossover, which gave me access to the old road going all the way down to the river. I started beating Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) along the way, eventually accumulating around 8–10 C. rossi and a couple of Agrilus sp. along with a few other insects. There was also dead Celtis pallida (spiny hackberry) near the bridge, but I only beat a single miscellaneous beetle off one of the plants.
Atlides halesus (great purple hairstreak).
Near the bridge I noticed a small purple flower of Justicia pilosella (Gregg’s tube tongue) that looked like it had been eaten by Acmaeodera. I did not see any adults on it, but as I started to walk away movement caught my eye—movement like that of an adult Acmaeodera dropping from the flower. I used my aspirator to pick through the soil underneath the flower and eventually found the little guy laying there playing dead—presumably A. neoneglecta, which I then aspirated into a vial. There were just a few other plants in flower around that one, none of which showed evidence of feeding or were hosting a beetle.
Justicia pilosella (Gregg’s tube tongue).
By that time, Tyler had also found his way across the crossover and down to where I was, so together we explored the vegetation on each side of the old road leading down to the river. At one point while I was beating Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia)—from which I collected a single C. rossi, Tyler called my attention to lycids (netwinged beetles) on Karwinskia humboldtiana (coyotillo). I came over and told him we should look for Elytroleptus—cerambycid beetles that mimic lycids but that are much less frequently encountered. I noticed that the bush was abuzz with bees and Pepsis wasps, unlike many of the other plants of this species that I’d seen further up. Within a few minutes he called out that he’d found one, and within a minute or two I found one as well (I believe they are E. divisus). We searched the stand thoroughly but found no more and continued down the old road—our focus now on inspecting the patches of coyotillo along the way instead of beating the mesquites and acacias (by the way, I never got anything more off the dead acacias after beating the single C. rossi off the first one!). A little ways down the road, Tyler saw another Elytroleptus fly up from a coyotillo bush—also in flower and abuzz with bees and Pepsis wasps, and when he swung his net at it I saw another one fly up from the bush and netted it. This happened twice again on the way down, each of us seeing and netting an adult flying up from a plant and the other one doing the same immediately afterwards. As we neared the bottom of the road, we noticed the plants—more exposed than those further up—were now mostly past flower and were instead setting fruit with no beetles (or bees or Pepsis wasps) being seen.
Karwinskia humboldtiana (coyotillo).
After exploring the dry river bed for awhile, we headed back up the road and met Jason and Joshua looking at the very same plants from which we had collected the first Elytroleptus—although they had not yet seen that species. Joshua had just taken a swing at a Pepsis wasp on the bush when I saw another Elytroleptus fly up and away. Nobody else saw it, and I took off after it, successfully netting it to “win” the “Elytroleptus competition”! As we all walked up the road past the bridge, I noticed a R. parryi flower that was now hosting several A. neoneglecta, and we further noticed the Tiquilia canescens (woody crinklemat, shrubby tiquilia) flowers that were now open and collected a few A. neoneglecta and one A. starrae—a new western range extension.
Vachellia farnesiana (sweet acacia).
I didn’t find anything more the rest of the way up the old road, but once I got back near the vehicle I noticed Acmaeodera adults on flowers of Sida abutifolia (spreading sida)—most of which looked like A. neoneglecta but at least one possibly being A. opuntiae, collecting around half a dozen total. By then everybody was ready to go into town and look for something to eat, so I cut up and bundled the wood I’d collected and we drove back into Comstock. (Ironically, once back in town, we pulled up to the local eatery got out of our cars. As we approached the door, somebody inside turned the sign from “Open” to “Closed”! I joked that probably the motel owner had seen the #Libtardandproud sticker on my car window and called the restaurant to warn them. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you!)
Seminole Canyon State Park Rio Grande & Canyon Rim Trails Val Verde Co., Texas After being denied service at the restaurant in Comstock, we drove to the state park and ate lunch at the picnic area (sardines and Triscuits for me) before divvying up the “oak-hunting duties”. We were hoping to see Spectralia roburella, an oak-associate that I have reared from Quercus fusiformis (plateau live oak) wood I collected at this site many years ago but which I still have yet to see in the field. Jason and Tyler took the Windmill Nature Trail, which has a stand of oaks, while Joshua and I took the Canyon Rim Trail (via the Rio Grande Trail), which has a couple of oak stands within a mile of the starting point. None of us had any luck with S. roburella, which I beat thoroughly as well as broke apart some of the dead branches, or anything on the trees for that matter. I did, however, collect a single Chrysobothris analis on Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia) and a few clytrine chrysomelids on Vachellia vernicosa (viscid acacia) along the Rio Grande Trail, and shortly after starting down the Canyon Rim Trail I beat two Spectralia robusta from Diospyros texana (Texas persimmon). This latter capture renewed my enthusiasm for beating persimmon, which I did thoroughly whenever I was not beating oak, but I never saw another individual! At this point, my body was giving out (in spite of the much more tolerable temperatures today), and we regrouped to decide our next move for the trip (hint: we moved west!).
Vachellia vernicosa (viscid acacia).
We drove west to Sanderson and ended up in an RV park with tent sites for $7 and a few marvelous metal dinosaurs at the entrance (I was impressed with their selection of the rarely featured Allosaurus instead of the grossly overused Tyrannosaurus). It was not until around 2 am, however (and again at 5 am)—when the train rumbled by behind the campground—that we understood why the tent sites were so cheap!
Metal triceratops!
Metal allosaurus!
Ted MacRae, Jason Hansen, Joshua Basham & Tyler Hedlund.
Day 8 – To Monahans Sandhills
Despite its small size, the city of Sanderson offers a right nice cup of coffee to start the day by way of this retooled automobile dealership.
Ferguson Motor Co. retooled as a coffee shop.
17 mi N Sanderson, Jct US-285 & FR-2400 Terrell Co., Texas Our plan had been to continue traveling west to Ft. Davis, but the weather forecast for that area called for rain and cool temperatures. We decided instead to travel northwest to Monahans Sandhills State Park where the forecast looked much better. The spot has been on my radar ever since the species Chrysobothris mescalero was described, and I’ve already looked for the species there twice without success. It was a good decision (more on that later). On the way, we saw a roadside area with lots of flowers in bloom, so we made a quick stop to see what might be visiting the flowers. I’m glad we did—I picked up a nice little series of Acmaeodera paradisjuncta along with a few A. mixta and some large bees (for Mike) on flowers of Wedelia hispida (Texas creeping-oxeye).
Acmaeodera paradisjuncta (family Buprestidae) on flower Wedelia acapulcensis (Acapulco wedelia).
I found it interesting that they were not on the much more abundant Coreopsis flowers and mentioned this to Tyler, who said he did see one on “this other yellow flower”—which turned out to be Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna). I told him this was the host plant for Agrilus obtusus and that he should be on the lookout for the adults, which can be seen sitting on the leaves. I walked to another plant a short distance away, and there they were—two adult A. obtusus sitting on a senna plant, which I gave Tyler the chance to see before placing them in the bottle. Heading back towards the cars, we encountered a patch of Croton pottsii (leatherweed). I mentioned to him that this was the host of Agrilus lacustris, and almost immediately afterwards I saw two adults sitting on the foliage of one of the plants. It was a nice little stop that added one more species to my trip list.
Agrilus lacustris (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Croton pottsii (leatherweed).
Tyler examines Croton pottsii (leatherweed) looking for Agrilus lacustris.
Monahans Sandhills State Park Jack Pump Picnic Area Winkler Co., Texas We arrived at the park early in the afternoon and, after checking in with the office, headed to the Jack Pump Picnic Area. Several Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) were lining the parking lot, and with the first whack of a branch an Acmaeoderopsis sp. fell onto my sheet. I then spent a fair bit of time working the mesquites and collected not only a good series of Acmaeoderopsis but two different species of treehoppers and other miscellaneous types of beetles. I remembered collecting Acmaeoderopsis on mesquite a few years ago near Kermit, Texas and recalled their habit of dashing off the beating sheet when the day heated up and finding it easier at that point to net them as they flew to the tips of branches. Temperatures were still relatively moderate, so they were not yet doing that, but I started to look at the higher branches to see if I could see them flying to them anyway. I did not, but I did see small silhouettes of something buzzing around the flowers. I took a swipe with the net, and to my astonishment the net was filled with ghostly pale-yellow bees. I collected a few for Mike Arduser, feeling confident that he would find them of interest.
Me using a beating sheet to collect Buprestidae from Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite). Photo by Joshua Basham.
After working the mesquites around the parking lot (and having a hot dog with the very friendly family enjoying their holiday at the dunes), I moved out onto the dunes to see what might be going on. I had intended to look for stands of Quercus havardii (shin oak) to look for Chrysobothris mescalero but got distracted when I saw more Acmaeoderopsis—now flying to the branch tips of a line of mesquites. I spent a bit more time thus distracted but ended up with a nicer series of the species and then went back to the road to resume my search for stands of oaks. Along the way I collected an Acmaeodera immaculata and a Batyle suturalis on the flowers of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) and a Lytta reticulata that was feeding on the flowers of Penstemon ambiguus (gilia bearstongue). At that point, Joshua came back with a Chrysobothris sp. that he’d collected on shin oak—it was definitely a member of the C. femorata species group but looked too large to be C. mescalero (could be C. caddo). Nevertheless, we were encouraged to focus our efforts at that point on searching the shin oak stands for the species. For this we decided to move over to the Shinnery Oak Picnic Area, but before doing this we again obliged the very friendly family, who were anxious to share with us more hot dogs!
Lytta reticulata feeding on flower of Penstemon ambiguus (gilia bearstongue) in sand hills.
Monahans Sandhills State Park Shinnery Oak Picnic Area Winkler Co., Texas I searched this area twice last year looking for Chrysobothris mescalero, both times finding branches that looked “flagged” among the abundant stands of Quercus havardii (shin oak) in the area but failing to rear out the beetles. I had also swept the plants a bit each time but came up empty. This time, with four of us trying, we intended to give it a full effort—and it didn’t take long! Jason found the first one… and the second… and I joined him to see exactly where and how he was finding them. He had been sweeping the stands of plants in one of the depressions in the dune, while I was working the plants on the upper slopes and ridge tops. I decided to try working the depression instead and immediately came up with one myself. I worked the depression fully and got four for my efforts, then started working nearby plants that were not in depressions. I reasoned that being nearby they had a better chance of hosting beetles. Apparently this was poor reasoning, because I didn’t encounter any more beetles in the ensuing half-hour of sweeping.
Habitat for Chrysobothris mescalero—depression in sand dunes with stands of thigh-high Quercus havardii (shin oak).
Exhausted, I went back to the car to rehydrate and debate whether I wanted to continue, but the four of us motivated each other and back out we went. This time, I went west of the picnic area and found a depression similar to the first with mostly thigh-high plants… and got another four. I spotted another very nice-looking depression across the road and made my way over, again focusing on the knee-high plants. From this depression I collected three more adults. One final depression—and one more more beetle, and I was able to return to the car satisfied. I was excited to have figured out the secret to collecting these beetles and was anxious to share with the others. As it turned out, each of the others had also learned this secret, and collectively we had a very nice series of the beetle. We sat at the picnic bench and recounted what a good day of collecting it had been and, to celebrate, decided to head into town for pizza!
Jason Hansen, Tyler Hedlund, Ted MacRae & Joshua Basham. Photo by Jason Hansen.
Day 9 – Davis Mountains
Monahans Sandhills State Park Shinnery Oak Picnic Area Winkler Co., Texas We had hoped to setup lights for insects at Monahans Sandhills State Park last night after returning from our celebratory pizza dinner, but extreme wind made not only that but even camping untenable. We tried to make it work, but the wind eventually blew my tent completely from its moorings, and I had no choice but to run into town and find a motel room.
This morning we set out for the Davis Mountains (our original plan yesterday), but on the way we stopped at this spot to see if we could find Agrilus cochisei on Ambrosia occidentalis (western ragweed). Jason, Tyler, and I had all collected the species in numbers near this spot over the past couple of years, and we wanted to give Joshua the chance to collect them as well. Unfortunately, the plants were not nearly as abundant or well developed as in previous years, and nary a beetle was to be found. While Joshua looked for the beetle, I swept Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed), which was in bloom abundantly along the other side of the road. Two Acmaeodera mixta were swept from the flowers, and coming back I saw two more Acmaeodera—one A. neglecta/neoneglecta and one of a new species that Jason is describing—on the same. Back near the car there was a patch of Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow), which I swept hoping to find one of any number of buprestid/cerambycid species that could be on the plants but ended up only with a few weevils (Bob Anderson will be happy, however). There were a number of other flowers in bloom, but we avoided the temptation to look around further, as the Davis Mountains beckoned!
Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed) along roadside.
Davis Mountains, 11 mi W Ft. Davis Point of Rocks Picnic Area Jeff Davis Co., Texas We were a bit disappointed at how dry things looked as we climbed into the Davis Mountains and made our way to Ft. Davis. We noted flowers in bloom along the roadsides, but the grass along the roadsides and covering the hills was bright, crispy brown and the oaks were largely still without any new foliage. Nevertheless, we hoped collecting might still be good as there had been a little bit of rain in recent days. Point of Rocks Roadside Park is one of my staple collecting localities in the Davis Mountains—it’s where I first collected cerambycids of the genus Elytroleptus hiding amongst the much more numerous Lycus beetles—the latter poisonous and colored orange and black to advertise that fact, and the former completely harmless but similarly colored in an effort to fool would-be predators; and it’s also where I first reared what would become the holotype of Mastogenius texanus and later not only collected a good series of the adults but also discovered its larvae in branches of oak. This time, the oaks lining the picnic area showed no signs of new growth, so I didn’t even try beating on them. In addition, the wind was so extreme that trying to use the beating sheet would have been utterly futile. Instead, I walked the roadside inspecting the variety of flowers in bloom for beetle activity. Unfortunately, not a single beetle was seen despite the diversity of blooms, but I did pick up a couple of Lithurgopsis apicalis (orange-tipped woodborer bee) on a flower of Opuntia engelmannii (Engelmann’s prickly pear) for Mike. Having run out of flowers to check, and still thinking beating the oaks would be futile, I went over to the stand of Sapindus saponaria (soapberry), which were just beginning to produce foliage and where I’d collected Elytroleptus so many years ago (1994, I believe), to see if there might be any of the buprestid species associated with soapberry. I swept some of the lower branches, taking care to keep the still-extreme wind from catching my net like a sail, and saw a couple of Agrilus ornatulus inthe net. I noticed when I got low and in certain positions around the grove of trees, I could minimize the wind, so I went back to the car and traded my sweep net for my beating sheet. Using the beating sheet in that kind of wind was a real challenge, but I still managed to collect seven adults of the species along with a number of clytrine chrysomelids. After having done this, I was less pessimistic about our prospects for collecting in the Davis Mountains—if only we could get out of the wind! We huddled and decided to go to Madera Canyon—all the way on the other side of the loop around the mountains, but higher in elevation and possibly more protected from the winds blasting up from the south.
Lithurgopsis apicalis (orange-tipped woodborer bee) in the flower of Opuntia engelmannii (Engelmann’s prickly pear).
Davis Mountains Madera Canyon Preserve Jeff Davis Co., Texas Arriving at the trailhead parking lot, we were happy to see that the brutal winds that had harassed us for the past couple of days did not follow us up the mountain, and with temperatures not expected to exceed the high 80s it seemed a beautiful day was on tap. Hopefully the collecting would follow suit. We tapped on this plant and that as we entered the preserve, not seeing much (and not yet expecting to), and by the time the trail reached the creek bed crossing and began to ascend the mountain on the opposite side we began scattering in different directions. I continued following the creek bed and noticed that, while most of the oaks still were showing no signs of beginning to leaf out, the occasional tree was leafing out nicely. I beat the first such one that I encountered—Quercus grisea (gray oak) but collected only a few clytrine chrysomelids. Then I noticed a shrub in bloom—Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plum)—and beat a few miscellaneous beetles from it but still no buprestids.
Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plum) in oak-juniper woodland.
A bit further down the trail I encountered a large Quercus vaseyana (Vasey oak) along the creek bed that, unlike most of the species, had broken bud and was developing new foliage. I whacked a few branches and collected only miscellaneous beetles, but then I whacked a branch and saw a large Agrilus sp. (likely A. albocomus)! At last, not only a buprestid, but one that I had never collected before. I crossed back over the creek bed and noticed another gray oak with fresh foliage, and the first whack produced several beetles, including a strange, narrowly triangular-shaped beetle that I soon realized was Brachys querci. This was even more exciting, as I have only collected a scarce handful of western Brachys—and never this one, making the genus a big target of mine for this trip. Things stood as such for awhile, save for a few miscellaneous beetles that I beat from Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia) and with only the occasional large, sparsely-leaved Vasey oak to beat as I went down the creek bed. I noticed another creek bed joining the one I was on and decided to explore up that valley, shortly encountering a small but well-leaved Vasey oak. I gave the tree a few whacks, and there on the sheet were three more Agrilus and one more Brachys! Okay, it seemed I was onto something by focusing only on oaks with new foliage. After relaying this information to the others, Tyler and I worked together up the valley, working each gray oak with fresh leaves that we could find (no more Vasey oaks were encountered). Over the course of the next hour, we added sparingly to our Brachys totals (with lots of clytrine chrysomelids and other miscellaneous beetles) until I gave a branch a whack and saw what I first thought was a much smaller species of Agrilus but then realized was an Agrilaxia. In this area, it could only be A. texana, a species I hadn’t seen since 1984 (before it was even described) until encountering them on my recent trip to northwestern Oklahoma. Shortly afterwards, Tyler and I came upon two groupings of large, freshly-foliated gray oaks—one bordering the dam of the now-dry Chico Tank and another further up on the western slope leading down to the former waterline. Tyler began working the near group, and I told him that I would go work the farther group because it looked like (and I hoped it would be) the “buprestid motherload”! That comment was prescient, as I just about doubled my series of the three species I’d already collected and added a couple of Chrysobothris axillaris! By the time we finished working the trees, we were exhausted but fully satisfied and began working our way back down the valley to the parking lot. We encountered Jason and Joshua near the trail at the base of a large gray oak—they’d also had great collecting and even found one larva and one adult of A. texana inside a dead branch of the tree. A beautiful mature male Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula) entertained us for a bit, and after spending four hours at the preserve we decided that yet another celebratory dinner at the Mexican restaurant in town was in order.
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula) adult male in oak-juniper woodland.
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula) adult male in oak-juniper woodland.
After dinner, we decided to head west for lodging, but to our surprise the lodge was closed—seemingly abandoned, and we had to double back all the to Alpine to find an open motel. I was biting my fingernails as I pulled into the first gas station I saw with my car’s miles-to-go indicator reading “1” mile! Our greeter at the motel seemed appropriate for the situation.
Our greeter at the motel in Alpine.
Day 10 – El Paso area
Rio Bosque Wetland Park El Paso Co., Texas We made the three-hour drive to El Paso for a couple of days of collecting in this area. I would have liked to have spent another day in the Davis Mountains, but Joshua had to fly out of El Paso this afternoon and we had no choice but to move on. It’s a good thing we did! Our first spot to explore in this area was selected based on the recent capture of Knowltonia atrifasciata—a very uncommonly encountered buprestid that none of us have seen belonging to a small genus that none of us have collected—a few years ago at this wetland park right on the Rio Grande River. Our GPS coordinates did not direct us straight to the park, but twice tried to direct us across the border into Mexico! We were too smart for that, and with a little online sleuthing and manual Google Map use we finally found the spot. Despite the name, the place was bone dry, and in what is becoming a daily ritual we had little optimism for how good the results would be. Knowltonia is associated with Atriplex, and we surmised that K. atrifasciata should be associated in this area with A. canescens, which we found occurring abundantly in some areas but not so much in others. I thought beating would be the best way to encounter the species—assuming it was present, so we all grabbed our beating sheets and started working through the area leading from the parking lot. The plants, which are wind-pollinated, were in full flower and released clouds of pollen with each whack of the stick, so in short order I was covered with pollen dust from head to toe. After beating for a while and not seeing anything, I became distracted by the Prosopis pubescens (screwbean mesquite) trees—a species I had never seen before and always wondered if I would be able to distinguish from the “normal” mesquite (P. glandulosa) with which they were interspersed, but which turned out not to be a problem due to their distinctively “corkscrewed” pods. I did get a few beetles of the species—one Chrysobothris rossi and a few miscellaneous beetles.
Prosopis pubescens (screwbean mesquite).
I turned my attention back to the Atriplex when I noticed emergence holes (which I presumed were the work of Knowltonia) and began breaking/cutting branches showing such holes to see if I could find at least a carcass in decent condition or—better yet—an unemerged adult. The frass was packed tightly in the galleries, which I took to be evidence that the galleries were the work of buprestid larvae and not cerambycids, the latter which I assumed always had open larval galleries kept free of frass by the larvae. For a while, in every stem I broke or cut into, the larval galleries appeared too old and I didn’t encounter either adults (live or dead) or larvae until I happened upon a cerambycid carcass in its pupal chamber in one of the branches. The head was missing, so I wasn’t sure at first if it was a cerambycid, but when I pulled it from the branch and got a better look at it I was convinced it was and placed it in a vial.
About that time, Joshua directed my attention to a nearby Salix gooddingii (Goodding’s willow) tree off which he and Jason had beat a fair series of an Agrilus sp. I assumed it was A. politus, but he said it wasn’t… than I assumed it was A. quadriguttatus, but it had complete and well-developed elytral vittae rather than spots. I couldn’t think of another species it might be and went to the tree to see if I could get some specimens as well, partly pessimistic since two people had already worked the tree but partly optimistic because I had one thing they did not—an extensible handle on my net! I extended the handle to its full length and swept the foliage of the upper branches thoroughly, getting four on that first round (and a Stenelytrana gigas to boot—my first time collecting that species)! I came back to the tree twice more, getting six more Agrilus on the first return and nine more on the second. At first glance, the adults look nothing like anything i was familiar with from Texas (or the U.S. for that matter), especially among willow associates—I’ll have to take a closer look to determine if it represents a species known from Mexico but not yet recorded from the U.S. or possibly even a new species! [We later determined the species to be A. fisherianus, which has not yet been recorded from Texas, so not a new or Mexican species but still a new state record.] By this time, I had given up on seeing Knowltonia and spent a fair bit of time beating both P. pubescens and P. glandulosa—the most significant capture being Acmaeodera delumbis on the former.
Stenelytrana gigas swept from foliage of Salix gooddingii (Goodding’s willow). Yes, it’s a crappy photo, but it was the best I could do with this very uncooperative subject!
Eventually the time came for Jason to take Joshua to the airport, so we said our goodbyes and made plans to meet up with Jason again at San Felipe Park near Fabens. As Jason and Joshua drove away, Tyler and I pondered our next move, and at that moment something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked at the Atriplex bush right next to me, and there near the tip of one of the branches was the unmistakable silhouette of a bright blue-green chrysobothrine beetle! I yelled out “That’s it!” and instinctively took a swing at it. Unfortunately, my net was in the wrong position, but I twirled it quickly and took an assertive, albeit one-handed, swipe just as the wary beetle quickly took flight—missing it by inches! There are times in the life of a field entomologist when a missed capture causes true heartbreak, and this was one of them. I was both thrilled we had seen the species after all but dejected beyond belief that I had missed it, perhaps without another chance to look forward to. Okay, time to get to work! We knew with certainly that the beetles were there and that they were active, and we also realized that an aerial net rather than a beating sheet would be the best way to go after them. I called Jason (en route to the airport with Joshua) to tell him to come back here instead, and then Tyler and I began slowly approaching each bush to look for that flash of blue-green near the branch tips, working the same plants we’d already tried beating earlier in the afternoon. It only took about 15 minutes before I spotted movement on a plant and saw the unmistakable silhouette of a chrysobothrine beetle on the back side of a branch near its tip. The beetle made another slight movement, triggering an instantaneous and assertive swipe of my net—this time already in proper position. My heart skipped a beat when I first looked into the net and did not see the beetle, but soon it appeared as it tried to fly up the net—it’s fantastically biramous antennae easily visible and confirming it to be a male. What earlier had been heartbreak turned to elation and vindication—we’d come here to find a very uncommon species, and we would be walking away successful once again. That said, the next hour and a half would further emphasize just how truly fortuitous a capture it was, as we never saw another adult despite combing the area thoroughly.
When I came back to the car, Jason—as yet unsuccessful in his more brief effort to look for the beetle—was tearing apart an Atriplex bush looking for evidence of larvae. This motivated me to give it another crack, but this time instead of working branches with emergence holes, I worked those without. I had noticed larval galleries in nearly every branch I looked at, and when I found fresh-looking frass in a gallery down the middle of an otherwise healthy, living branch I started carefully following the gallery, eventually finding a pupal cell with something in it and cutting away the wood to expose another longhorned beetle (this one teneral). Jason did the same and found two pupae, which he gave to me and which I will keep alive (along with the teneral adult) to let them emerge and harden up. The adult reminded of the genus Amannus, which I thought contained two species further west, but after consulting Larry Bezark’s photographic catalogue of Cerambyidae I realized they were Amannus atriplici—a Texas species that is yet another new one for me.
Amannus atriplici teneral adult in its pupal cell in a living branch of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush).
Amannus atriplici teneral adult (top) and pupa (bottom) in their pupal cells in living branches of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush).
Amannus atriplici teneral adult in its pupal cell in a living branch of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush).
Amannus atriplici teneral adult crawling out of its pupal cell in a living branch of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush).
By this time, we had been in the park for 5½ hours—a record for this trip, so we went into El Paso to have yet another celebratory dinner (Olive Garden this time) and plan our next move.
Sunset north of El Paso, Texas.
Day 11 – El Paso to Cloudcroft
Rio Bosque Wetland Park El Paso Co., Texas Last night was another lodging fiasco that had us driving from one closed campground to another closed campground before biting the bullet and securing a motel in Fabens. It was our intention to collect this morning at nearby San Felipe Park, where last year I’d done well with Gyascutus planicosta and several cerambycids. However, as soon as we arrived we heard a series of gunshots (this is Texas, after all!). If that wasn’t enough to give us pause, both Jason and I realized when we looked in the backs of our vehicles that we’d left our beating sheets on the trail at yesterday’s last locality (we’d ditched them in favor of having two hands on the aerial net while looking for Knowltonia atrifasciata). The collecting gods seemed completely against us collecting at our intended location, so we blasted back to Rio Bosque Wetland Park and were relieved to find our beating sheets on the trail right where we’d left them. None of us were keen on going back to the gunshots, so we decided to stay and take another look around for K. atrifasciata. It would also give me a chance to collect potentially-infested stems of Atriplex canescens and rear out a better series of Amannus atriplici. I inspected all the plants carefully in the areas around the two spots where I’d seen the beetles yesterday but did not see any adults. As I did this, I beat a few Prosopis pubescens (screwbean mesquite) and collected a few miscellaneous beetles, then went back to the spot where I’d collected Agrilus fisherianus on Salix gooddingii (Goodding’s willow) and used the extended handled net to sweep four more adults from the upper branches of the tree. Finally, I went back to the plant from which Jason and I had cut pupae and teneral adults of Amannus atriplici (the two pupae we collected yesterday had since emerged as adults inside their vials) and cut several whole branches from the plant to bring back for rearing. A suspicious character got us a little on edge, and we decided we’d seen enough and headed up north into New Mexico.
Stems of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush) infested with Amannus atriplici cut up and packed in a temporary emergence box.
Hwy 70 at Point of Sands Otero Co., New Mexico Our plan was to go to Cloudcroft and look for the recently-described Brachys rileyi. Before doing that, however, I wanted to stop at Point of Sands, a cool place where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. Last July when I stopped here with Jeff Huether, I found a carcass of Sphaerobothris ulkei and figured they might be out at this earlier point in the season. It ended up being a good thing that we stopped here, because little did we know that that plan had already been thwarted by closure of the National Forest due to extreme fire danger (we would not find this out until we were ready to leave).
The author ready for netting buprestids. Photo by Jason Hansen.
I crossed the road to start checking the plant host for the species—Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) in this case. Conditions were again not hot with a light breeze—much more pleasant than the blazing hot conditions at the beginning of the trip or the brutal winds that followed. The ground, however, looked parched, and I was not optimistic about anything being out. I had gotten nearly to the end of the Ephedra stands on that side of the road without seeing anything (and was starting to think I never would) when I noticed a bee-like insect hovering around the tip of one of the Ephedra plants. I realized it was an Acmaeodera and quickly netted it. When I pulled it from the net, I was thrilled to see it was Acmeodera recticollis—an uncommonly encountered species that I’ve never collected before. I told Jason and Tyler what I had found, and the three of us spent the next hour working the ephedra plants in the area, collecting a pretty nice series of the species.
Jason and Tyler search for Acmaeodera recticollis on Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir, Torrey’s Mormon tea).
I diverted my attention only a couple of times—once when I saw a striking robber fly perched on yucca that I just had to photograph, and then again when Tyler and I found the spectacular adult males and females of Tragidion armatum on flowers of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca). By then, we’d learned that the National Forest was closed but had managed to reserve a camping site at a commercial campground just outside the national forest boundary. Our plans to collect Brachys rileyi today might have been thwarted, but we got an unexpected species for the trip as a consolation, and I was really happy we would not have to worry about accommodations for this evening.
Efferia sp. male (family Asilidae).
Sacramento Mountains, Mayhill Otero Co., New Mexico All we could do as we drove through the National Forest around Cloudcroft was stare longingly at the Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak) while signs posted at any potential pulloff flashed “Closed. No Entry.” Our commercial campground was, however, just outside the National Forest and looked to contain borderline-equivalent habitat, so we remained hopeful that we would be able to find Q. gambelii trees to beat for Brachys rileyi. While setting up camp, we saw a gorgeous red netwinged beetle (family Lycidae) that proved to be Lygistopterus rubripennis, and sweeping the lush vegetation along the nearby spring-fed creek produced several more along with a few other miscellaneous beetles. There was a trail leading from the campsite into the oak-juniper-pine woodland, and walking along it I found several small Q. gambelii—the tree we were looking for. Unfortunately, beating all the branches I could reach on all the trees I could find failed to produce B. rileyi (or anything else), so for the time being our quest for the species remains unfinished.
Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak).
Further down the trail under a powerline clearing I found stands of Q. havardii, which I swept in hopes of finding Brachys barberi but found only a couple of cryptocephaline chrysomelids and a clerid. I met up with Tyler and Jason on the other side of the creek and swept Cucurbita foetedissima (buffalo gourd) in hopes of finding Adetus brousi (another species I haven’t yet collected myself), but no cigar (and still haven’t collected it myself). There was a stand of Salix exigua (sandbar willow) nearby, and sweeping off of it produced only a series of galerucine chrysomelids.
Phlox nana (Santa Fe phlox).
As dusk approached, I setup the ultraviolet lights only (no mercur vapor lamp since I couldn’t fire up the generator), but I could tell the temperatures were cooling to the point that no beetles would be coming in. This proved to be the case, and with only a few lonely moths sitting on the sheet I turned to roaming the roadsides looking for night-active insects. Tyler and I found several Udeopsylla robusta (robust camel cricket), all barfing, defecating, and assuming hilariously defensive poses in response to our proddings.
Udeopsylla robusta (robust camel cricket).
Udeopsylla robusta (robust camel cricket).
Darkling beetles (family Tenebrionidae) were the main things collected, but at the top of the drive I found three Zopherus concolor, with their cool leg “racing stripes,” crawling slowly on the ground. By that time, I was exhausted from yet another long but successful day of collecting and turned in for the night.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae).
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae).
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae).
Day 12 – Mescalero Sands
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area North Dunes Picnic Area Chaves Co., New Mexico In the morning after breaking camp, we went back to Cloudcroft to see if we could park somewhere along the side of the road and access Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak) to look for Brachys rileyi, but all the places we could pull off were well marked “Stop. No Entry” due to the Lincoln National Forest closure. Our quest for B. rileyi would have to wait for another day. With that, we headed for Mescalero Sands, where we hoped to get another shot at collecting another Brachys species we were targeting—B. barberi. We’d hoped to see it at Monahans Sandhills State Park at the beginning of the week but found only the other main target—Chrysobothris mescalero. I was also happy to have another shot at collecting Agrilus hespenheide, a single specimen of which Jason collected at Monahans and still represented in my cabinet by only a single specimen collected many years ago at this very site. We also welcomed the opportunity to find C. mescalero at its type locality. Temperatures were already topping 100°F by the time we arrived, but the tough conditions would mean little to us since we immediately found B. barberi sweeping stands of Quercus havardii (shin oak) very near where we parked. As we were beginning our sweeping, Jason encountered a small white yogurt cup that had been discarded in the dunes and noticed a few Acmaeoderaquadrivittatoides flying in and landing on the white rim of the cup. Jason collected them and then left, after which I emptied the sand and filled the cup with water to let it sit while I swept the stand of oaks next to it. When I returned, there were seven Acmaeodera trapped in the water—two clearly being A. quadrivittatoides but the other five not immediately recognizable (they look like very small A. starrae or A. riograndei—I will be anxious to look at them more closely). Over the next 2½ hours we would sweep the stands of shrubby oaks looking for B. barberi, often collecting none but sometimes getting as many as five individuals per sweeping pass. I worked each discrete stand systematically to avoid duplicative sweeping, as it was hard work in such heat, and in addition to B. barberi I collected two specimens of A. hespenheidei, four specimens of C. mescalero (two got away, as they moved fast in the heat!), two Acmaeodera neglecta, and another small Acmaeodera that looks very much like A. riograndei, which we collected much further south at Gold Mine Canyon in Val Verde Co., Texas. This latter find is significant , as the species had not been recorded before our trip from outside of the Big Bend region—if the ID is correct, the capture represents a new state record and a significant extension of the known range. In addition to the buprestids, treehoppers of the genus Cyrtolobus or near (two species) were abundant on the oaks, along with a gorgeous species of cassidine leaf beetle. I collected nice series of each and a smattering of many different species of beetles in other families. I was having so much success sweeping that eventually I had to force myself to stop and take a break to rest and rehydrate (I’m not 26 anymore!). I thought I wanted to go out for more A. hespenheidei after the break, but after the first sweeping pass I realized my body was done!
Sand dunes at Mescalero Sands Recreation Area.
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area Vic. North Dunes entrance Chaves Co., New Mexico After finishing with the oaks in the recreation area, we headed out to the highway near the entrance to work the nearby stands of Sapindus saponaria (soapberry). I had good success during my last visit here in 2018 with Agrilus sapindi in these stands, a species I have found very sparingly in other locations and which were best collected here by sweeping the small saplings rather than beating the branches of larger trees. We encountered the species almost immediately after we arrived, collecting them exactly as I’d done before (despite Jason’s skepticism). This also produced a few Agrilus ornatulus, and beating the branches produced one or two of each species as well. Jason also collected one individual of Agrilus limpiae, a species I collected on soapberry during my recent trip to western Oklahoma, but I did not encounter it here. I wonder what it is about this soapberry stand that A. sapindi likes so much?
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area.
We were all exhausted after working the sweep nets and beating sheets all day at Mescalero in the +100°F heat, so we ran into town to eat dinner (mine including a large milkshake!) before making the hour+ drive to our campsite near Carlsbad. Before leaving town, however, we had to stop at the alien memorial for photos and to leave our own contributions on the pedestal.
Ted MacRae, Jason Hansen & Tyler Hedlund.
My contribution to the alien memorial.
Capitan Reef Rd at Pecos River Chaves Co., New Mexico Jason knew a spot not far from the campground where we could setup the lights, and despite my exhaustion I agreed to go along since it seemed like it could be a good night. It wasn’t a good night—though it wasn’t a bad night either. Only two cerambycids were collected at the mercury vapor/ultraviolet lights—one tiny elaphidiine, and a conversely large Aneflus sp. (maybe A. prolixus). However, there was a smattering of other interesting insects that made the night not a bust—a few clerids of several different species, the same with bostrichids, lots of tiny bruchids (I don’t typically see these at lights—or maybe I just haven’t noticed them), a couple of small melolonthine scarabs, and one darnine treehopper. I had hoped for a greater diversity of beetles, especially longhorned beetles, but considering the success I’d had today I couldn’t complain.
Day 13 – Going solo!
Capitan Reef Rd at Pecos River Chaves Co., New Mexico We came back to the spot where we blacklighted last night to look for Gyascutus planicosta, which Jason had collected a few years ago on Atriplex (saltbush). Gyascutus planicosta adults are among the largest in the family in North America and are powerful fliers, so catching them can be a challenge even for the experienced entomologist. Sadly, we did not see any this time—I suspect we were a bit on the early side for the likes of such. The area was supremely uninteresting—choked with clumps of Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) on raised mounds with ORV paths (apparently a very popular pastime in this area) winding amongst them and a few large, invasive Tamarix (tamarisk, salt cedar) trees. Nevertheless, I managed to beat a few centrotine and one darnine treehoppers and some miscellaneous beetles from the mesquite, and at the furthest point I walked before I’d had enough I encountered a small series of Acmaeoderopsis hulli flying to the tips of mesquite. At this point, it was time to bid Jason and Tyler adieu, as they started heading back to south Texas while I start making my way to Arizona. Jason and I each ended up with 43 species of Buprestidae for the trip, though he will likely get more on his way back to south Texas and I almost certainly will get many more (hopefully a few dozen!) over the next week in Arizona.
Sacramento Mountains, Mayhill Otero Co., New Mexico My path to Arizona took me right by the camp we stayed at two nights ago, where Jason had managed to collect a couple of Taphrocerus chevrolati (but I had not) by sweeping grasses along the side of the road. I did not see any sedges (typically the hosts of Taphrocerus species) mixed in the grasses and thought it was odd that these two individuals would be found on rather dry grasses. Nevertheless, since I had another opportunity I decided to see if I could come up one or two this time. I came up with 10 and don’t quite know what to think about this many individuals in patches of grasses that surely cannot be a larval development host. At any rate, these specimens will come in handy (the first I’ve collected in New Mexico) as I continue with my revision of the North American (north of Mexico) Taphrocerus fauna.
Roadside grasses from which I swept a series of Taphrocerus chevrolati.
1.8 mi W Cloudcroft on Hwy 82 Otero Co., New Mexico Just west of Cloudcroft, I noticed a lot of Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak)—host for Brachys rileyi—along the edge of the road and a large turnout without any “Stop. No entry.” signs posted where I could seemingly park the car. I hoped maybe staying along the roadside would not be a problem with the National Forest closure and began beating the trees looking for the beetle. I’d worked the trees less than 15 minutes, collecting a few miscellaneous beetles and treehoppers, when a Forest Service vehicle pulled up alongside me and, in a friendly voice that didn’t belie whether they thought I was doing something wrong, asked what I was doing. I replied that I was collecting beetles, to which they smiled and explained that the National Forest is closed and I was in violation of the order. Clear enough! I thought of asking if I could just move along or did I need to go to jail, but I decided not to tempt fate and promised to leave at once. I was kind of surprised they left without sticking around to make sure I actually did leave at once—I suppose I must have a trustworthy face.
Bronco Sport in its native habitat.
Hwy 70 at Point of Sands Otero Co., New Mexico My route to (eventually) Arizona also took me by this spot that Jason and Tyler and I had visited two days ago, where we ended up finding Acmaeodera recticollis on Ephedra torreyana (Torreys’ jointfir). I’d gotten a modest series and wanted to see if I could get a few more, but what I really wanted was to find Sphaerobothris ulkei, which utilizes the same plant as a larval host. Tyler had seen two adults when we were here before but had not manage to capture them, both flying beyond the fence when he saw them. Winds were as severe as I’ve ever experienced, and at one point I had to use the extended handle of my net to prevent my hat from escaping on the other side of the barbed-wire fence lining the roadside. The A. recticollis adults were not nearly so abundant today as they were two days ago, but I managed another modest series with which I can be satisfied. I never did see a S. ulkei adult, although three times a similarly shaped/sized insect fooled me into thinking that I had one. I also checked the Yucca elata (soaptree yucca) for more Tragidion armatum but struck out.
White Sands National Monument spills out onto the highway.
One interesting story—as I was checking the Ephedra, a Border Patrol vehicle pulled up to check out my vehicle, then circled back around to check out me (there is a Border Patrol station just up the highway). The officer explained that they had been notified about a person “walking along the fence” and came to check up on it. It ended up being a very pleasant conversation as I explained what I was doing, each answer bringing up another question out of seemingly genuine interest. You know you’ve exceeded expectations when a Border Patrol officer extends their hand to shake yours when they’re ready to leave.
Her eggs all laid, life has ended for this Pepsis sp. (a tarantula hawk wasp). Meanwhile, her victims are now “unable to scream!”
Organ Mountains—Desert Peaks National Monument Pine Tree National Recreational Trail Doña Ana Co., New Mexico For my final stop of the day, I’d planned to hike a trail on the other side of the mountains where Chrysobothris culbersoniana—a species I’ve not yet collected—has been recorded. However, as at the previous site the winds were so severe that using a beating sheet would have been impossible. I decided to instead take one more shot at Brachys rileyi. BugGuide shows a photo of a specimen collected at “Aguirre Springs” (presumably Aguirre Spring Campground), and iNaturalist shows another specimen with geo-coordinates very close to that spot along the Pine Tree Trail.
Approaching Organ Mountains—Desert Peaks National Monument.
Since both records state the beetles were collected on Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak), I kept an eye out for such. I never saw any on the parts of the trail that I hiked, but there was Q. grisea (gray oak) and the occasional Q. arizonica (Arizona white oak), and off the former I beat a few miscellaneous beetles but no Brachys querci (which has also been recorded here and which does utilize gray oak). At a few places I encountered Celtis reticulata (netveined hackberry), off which I beat a few more miscellaneous beetles including a single Agrilus leconteicelticola. In the meantime, I began to wonder if the geo-coordinates were accurate and left a comment on the iNaturalist record asking about it, hoping I might hear back before I left the area.
On Pine Tree National Recreational Trail at Organ Mountains—Desert Peaks National Monument.
Eventually I made it to the spot indicated by the geo coordinates on iNaturalist, but still the only oaks present were gray oaks. Unfortunately, by then I still had not heard back from the iNaturalist user who posted the record, so I surmised it was more likely that they had collected the species on gray oak and misidentified the host (I would not be surprised if this species turns out to use other oaks as hosts, as this is common among oak-associated Brachys) than the geo coordinates being incorrect. By then, I’d beaten enough oaks to conclude that neither Brachys species was active at the moment and headed back to the car.
On Pine Tree National Recreational Trail at Organ Mountains—Desert Peaks National Monument.
After I got into town later that evening, I saw a response from the iNaturalist user, who stated that the beetle was actually collected on the upper part of the Pine Tree Loop—not where indicated by the geo coordinates. Unbeknownst to me, Gambel’s oak does occur on the upper part of the loop, and in the user’s opinion the host ID rather than the geo coordinates should have been given weight for locating the plants. This is debatable—both are important and should be reported accurately, and the episode illustrates the importance of being cautious about relying on crowd-sourced data.
Day 14 – Travel Day (Las Cruces to Hereford)
Sunday was a day off from collecting while I drove west to the home of Norm Woodley and Steve Lingafelter in Hereford, Arizona. Norm and Steve are experts in Buprestidae and Cerambycidae, respectively, and were kind enough to host me during the third week of my trip for some pre-monsoon collecting in southeast Arizona. Insect numbers and diversity at this time of year may not compare with those seen once the monsoons start (usually in early to mid-July); however, there are a number of buprestid species (especially in the genera Agrilus and Brachys) that are generally seen earlier in the season and disappear by the time the monsoons arrive. I’ve collected a number of times in southeast Arizona during and after the monsoons; however, this would be my first attempt at collecting in the area before the monsoons. Thus, it was my hope that I would encounter many species that I haven’t seen before, especially some of those that are completely lacking in my collection. I didn’t arrive at Norm and Steve’s until late afternoon, so instead of collecting we enjoyed grilled burgers and fine spirits.
Day 15 – Dragoon & Huachuca Mountains
Before leaving for the Dragoon Mountains, Steve and I set out two jug traps in the wash on the south side of their house—one on the south side of wash baited with 50:50 red wine:ethanol and another on the north side baited with pure ethanol.
W side Dragoon Mountains 3.0 mi NE Rd 687 on N Middlemarch Rd Cochise Co., Arizona A few years ago, Norm discovered one of the rarest Acmaeodera species in North America—Acmaeodera horni—on flowers of Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plume) at a spot in the Dragoon Mountains. That was undoubtedly the biggest of the several priorities I had this week as I spend the last part of this three-week trip collecting in southeastern Arizona with Norm and Steve. The “horni spot” was first on our agenda for this first day of collecting with them, since Norm has seen them as late as June 1st but mostly in mid-May. When we arrived, we noticed the plants were a bit past peak bloom, as only a few sporadic flowers were present on the plants compared to the much more numerous fruiting structures. The plants are primarily along Clifford Wash, so we walked down the wash, looking at any flower we could find. At first I got distracted by the abundance of Acmaeodera quadrivitttatoides on the flowers and quickly collected my share. When Norm and I met up again about 15 minutes later, he had found two but I had yet to see one. Knowing they were still out, however, renewed my motivation to continue searching. After a while, I encountered Steve, and he too had caught one, while I still had yet to see one. I continued searching, and eventually I heard Norm call out my name. I came to where he was, and there it was—sitting on a flower that I had looked at not five minutes earlier! I easily netted the beetle, happy (and relieved) to have caught one but still wishing somewhat I could have found one on my own. I will just have to do that sometime in the future (with a mid-May trip). While I was looking for the beetle, I also collected a modest series of what may be Acmaeodera variegata to go along with the many A. quadravittatoides and three A. horni (Norm gave me his two). I also collected a couple of A. variegata and A. quadrivittatoides on flowers of Verbesina encelioides (cowpen daisy), as well as a very small lycid (the smallest I’ve ever seen) and a couple of chrysomelids on the white flowers of Mimosa aculeaticarpa.
Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on flowers of Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plum).
Acmaeodera horni, taken from flowers of Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plum).
After scouring the patches of Fallugia one more time to ensure we had not left any A. horni behind, we drove 0.4 miles back down the road to another spot where the wash crossed the road and where Fallugia is again fairly abundant. We checked the plants thoroughly, and while A. variegata and A. quadrivittatoides were present, A. horni was not. With that, we said goodbye to the “horni spot” and proceeded to another spot where we suspected Tragidion armatum could be found on Yucca elata (soaptree yucca).
Hadoa simplex mating pair on Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plume).
W side Dragoon Mountains 0.4 mi N of N Middlemarch Rd on Rd 687 Cochise Co., Arizona This location was very different from the previous, with mesquites dotting a dry grass plain and the occasional Yucca elata (soaptree yucca)—many sending up flowering stalks. I checked a few for Tragidion armatum but didn’t see any beetles on the stalks, and then I got the idea to use my extended net handle to pry the rosette of stiff, sharp leaves away from the base of the stalk to see if any adults were hiding there. Success! I found one female hiding in the rosette of the first plant I checked, another female in the third plant I checked, a male and a female in the fourth plant I checked (but then no more in any of the many plants I checked after that).
Tragidion armatum taken from stalk base of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca).
3.0 mi NE Hwy 80 on N Middlemarch Rd Cochise Co., Arizona As a final stop for the day (not considering blacklighting for insects at nightfall), we stopped at a spot where there is a stand of Sapindus saponaria (soapberry), off which Norm has collected a new species of Agrilus that he is describing. I let him sweep the plants to try to get more for the species description, while I headed towards an old gnarled Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) off which Norm said he has routinely collected a variety of buprestids. I didn’t have quite the luck with it myself, collecting only a single Chrysobothris rossi and a few other miscellaneous beetles, but a neighboring mesquite with lusher foliage did produce a new species for the trip—Acmaeoderopsis junki and a second C. rossi. A large, partially fallen Vachellia constricta (whitethorn acacia) in full bloom looked particularly inviting for buprestids, but I beat only a few miscellaneous beetles from it. It turned out that Norm had already worked it and gotten a mating pair of Chrysobothris merkelii from it. I swept the soapberry after Norm had finished with it, but as he’d only gotten a single specimen of the Agrilus after working it, I didn’t have much expectation of finding another one (and I didn’t). By this time we were hot and tired, and a quick stop in nearby Tombstone with the hope of ice cream and drinks was singing her siren song.
E side Huachuca Mountains Lower Hunter Canyon Cochise Co., Arizona After dinner, Steven and I went to nearby Hunter Canyon for some pre-monsoon blacklighting. Hunter Canyon is not nearly as well known as Miller Canyon, its much more famous neighbor to the north, but has similar habitat and is right in the heart of one of the coolest natural history spectacles of the insect world—the mass emergence of the cerambycid species Megapurpuricenus magnificus (formerly Crioprosopis magnificus)! This species develops as larvae in the trunks of living oaks and emerge once every three years in synchrony right after the first rains of the summer monsoons. For a brief few days afterwards, one can easily see a hundred adults flying high in the canopy—a true spectacle given their enormous size and fantastic red/black coloration. The spectacle last for only a few days, so seeing it requires careful planning and a bit of luck. The last emergence here was in 2021, so I am making plans to visit in 2024 in hopes of seeing this incredible phenomenon with my own eyes. For this evening, however, I would have to content myself with whatever pre-monsoon species might happen to be out and about. We set up our sheets just a bit out of sight from each other (to avoid competing for the same insects), each of us using one 175-w mercury-vapor (MV) bulb and two (me) or four (Steve) 15-w ultraviolet (UV) light bulbs. Since getting my MV bulb last year I have started using the setup/technique recommended by Steve and other cerambycid specialists—a vertical sheet with ground cloth on both sides, the MV on a tripod or stand raised to a level above the top of the sheet, and at least one UV light hanging on each side of the sheet. The MV light will attract beetles from a distance, but due to its brightness the beetles may land in the vicinity rather than on the sheet itself. For this reason, the MV light is then turned off after about an hour and all the nearby vegetation shaken or beaten to disturb the beetles, which are then attracted to the sheet itself by the UV lights. After a while, the MV light is turned back in and the cycle repeated. On this night, however, such technique would not be terribly important, as the number of beetles flying was rather small. The first cerambycid—Anelaphus simile—came to Steve’s sheet, and later an Anelaphus brevipes would also appear. A couple of the former also came to my sheet, and from both sheets I picked a smattering of miscellaneous beetles in other families. One of the more exciting finds of the night was a very late-occurring female of the spring species Knulliana sonorensis (I do not accept the current placement of this taxon as a subspecies of K. cincta), which was crawling on the ground in the parking lot and which may have been attracted to a pile of recently cut oaks that were near Steve’s lights. This prompted a search for other individuals that may have been so attracted, but the only thing we found was a headless carcass of Acmaeodera sp. (perhaps A. decipiens). When the expected 9:30 p.m. flush of cerambycids did not materialize, we called it a night, took down the lights, and headed back the house for some French Open replay action.
Choristostigma roseopennalis at ultraviolet/mercury-vapor light in mountain oak woodland.
Day 16 – Huachuca Mountains (cont.)
W side Huachuca Mountains Lower Copper Canyon Cochise Co., Arizona I knew it would be difficult to top yesterday’s Acmaeodera horni experience, but I still had hopes of collecting at least a few species that I’ve never seen in the field before, especially if they represented species not present in my collection. Copper Canyon is a famous locality for collecting, and Steve and Norm like to visit this spot regularly due to the variety of interesting species they have seen over the years here. We walked the lower mile or so of the trail up the canyon, beating primarily the different oak species looking for mostly Agrilus and Brachys. Many of the Arizona species of Agrilus and most of the Brachys occur prior to the monsoons, and since I’ve only visited Arizona during or after the monsoons I’ve not collected many of the Arizona species in these genera.
Lower Copper Canyon Trail.
It took a while for the collecting to pick up, but eventually we started focusing on the occasional trees with newly flushed foliage and had good success. Quercus arizonicus (Arizona white oak) was the most productive, yielding good series of Agrilus quercus and A. chiricahuae as well as a couple of Brachys cephalicus—all species I’ve never collected before. Quercus emoryi (Emory oak) was less productive (owing to the fact that only a few trees were flush with fresh leaves), yielding two more B. cephalicus and an A. chiricahuae. Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) was the least productive—no buprestids were collected off these trees, defying Norm’s expectations. Other than buprestids, a variety of other insects—mostly leaf beetles, weevils, and a good variety of treehoppers—were collected from all three oak species. About a mile up, the trail crossed a wash and got steeper and narrower, and I found it difficult to beat off of anything except trees right along the trail, so I turned around and joined Norm in slowly working our way back down the trail, beating/sweeping the trees along the way and adding slightly to our series. Once back at the bottom, I hung a jug trap baited with ethanol near the wash next to a large silverleaf oak, which Steve will check during the rest of the season and which hopefully will produce some nice species of longhorned beetles.
Lower Copper Canyon Trail.
Before moving to our next spot, we made a quick visit to the nearby U.S./Mexico border. The Nazi-esque barbed wire atop steel cross bars was a far cry from the promised “big, beautiful wall” as it slashed across the landscape and up over the mountains. I joked with Norm that we should stick our nets over the fence and sweep for insects so we could label them as having been collected in Mexico!
U.S./Mexican border.
On this side is the U.S., and on that side is Mexico.
W side Huachuca Mountains Lower Ida Canyon Cochise Co., Arizona After a solid three hours at Copper Canyon, we were beat but wanted to check nearby Ida Canyon, the lower reaches of which has a stand of sedges from which Norm has collected several species of Taphrocerus. The sedge patch was completely dry and no Taphrocerus were found, so we beat/swept a bit on the oaks—again focusing on those occasional trees with a fresh flush of foliage. I got one Agrilus quercus on Quercus arizonica (Arizona white oak) and two Brachys cephalicus off of a single Quercus emoryi (Emory oak) along with a smattering of miscellaneous beetles off each. Once again, Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) produced a smattering of miscellaneous insects but no buprestids. Beetle activity didn’t seem to be as high here as at Copper Canyon, so we didn’t spend too much time here and headed home for dinner before another night of blacklighting.
Lower Ida Canyon.
Huachuca Mountains Montezuma Pass Cochise Co., Arizona On the way back to Norm’s and Steve’s home, we stopped at the ever-scenic Montezuma Pass, which offers spectacular views of the U.S./Mexico border to both the east and the west. A large Cylindropuntia imbricata (tree cholla) in full bloom added a splash of color to the tawny-colored view.
View west from Montezuma Pass.
View east from Montezuma Pass.
Cylindropuntia imbricata (tree cholla).
E side Huachuca Mountains Upper Miller Canyon Rd Cochise Co., Arizona This spot near the top of Miller Canyon Rd is another of Steve’s favorite blacklighting spots, so we set up our lights here in the same manner as last night—just out of sight of each other along the trail and both setups using both ultraviolet and mercury-vapor lamps. Both light setups produced a smattering of miscellaneous insects but few longhorned beetles, a few Anelaphus (probably A. simile and A. brevipes) coming to my light but none coming to Steve’s. Who knows why this happens?
Menkeleon bellulus (family Myrmeleontidae) adult at ultraviolet/mercury-vapor light in riparian montane oak woodland.
Agrius cingulata (pink-spotted hawkmoth) at ultraviolet/mercury-vapor light in riparian montane oak woodland.
Cypherotylus californicus (blue fungus beetle) on trunk of juniper in riparian montane oak woodland at night.
Day 17 – Chiricahua Mountains
E side Chiricahua Mountains Herb Martyr Campground Cochise Co., Arizona The Chiricahuae Mountains are about a two-hour drive from Norm’s and Steve’s place, so our plan for the day was for Norm and I to spend the day collecting in Cave Creek Canyon and then Steve meet up with me to blacklight. Our target for this first spot of the day was Agrilus howdeni, which Norm has collected on the fresh leaves of Platanus wrightii (western sycamore) during June. This spot is very near the type locality for the species (Southwestern Research Station), and though it was the first day of June we hoped it would already be out. The stop had an inauspicious start—as soon as we got out of the car we saw a large Chrysobothris land on the sheet metal eave of the campground outhouse. It escaped Norm’s grasp but returned, only to then escape my net as well. Not a good start, but I did at least beat a longhorned beetle (probably Sternidius decorus) from Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) before we headed down to the creek bed where the sycamores could be found. Once in the creek bed, I beat a few miscellaneous beetles off of Quercus arizonica (Arizona white oak) before turning my attention to the sycamores. We quickly realized that A. howdeni was not only present, but occurred in the biggest numbers Norm had ever seen—apparently the species is an earlier spring species than realized and the individuals seen later in June were probably hangers on. Collecting for me was slow at first, as I was limited by my beating sheet and 6-ft extensible handled net to the lower branches of the trees, while Norm was able to reach the higher branches with his much longer net handle. Eventually, however, after hiking up the creek bed a fair distance I encountered several trees with plenty of low growing branches from which I was able to collect a good series of adults and then make my way back. Back at the car, Norm and I both checked the outhouse again hoping that the Chrysobothris had returned, but no such luck. I did notice, however, a few small Robinia neomexicana (New Mexican locust), from which I swept a single Agrilus egenus, and then Norm saw a large Buprestis (probably B. laeviventris) land on the parking lot sign and nabbed it. Having gotten our fill of A. howdeni, we decided to move up to a higher elevation spot where Gayle Nelson had once collected the very rare Brachys apachei on Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak).
Leptotes marina (marine blue) on flowers of Amorpha fruticosa (leadplant) in montane woak woodland.
E side Chiricahua Mountains Rd 42 at East Turkey Creek Cochise Co., Arizona
East Turkey Creek.
The forest type was different at this higher-elevation spot, with pine and fir sharing the canopy with oaks. I had intended to focus on the oaks in hopes of finding the rare Brachys apachei, but I was immediately distracted by large flowering shrubs that turned out to be Ceanothus integerrimus (deerbrush ceanothus) and from which I beat a diversity of miscellaneous beetles and one treehopper (but no buprestids).
Ceanothus integerrimus (deerbrush ceanothus) in montane oak-pine woodland.
I then turned my attention to beating the abundant stands of Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) in earnest. Norm got one Brachys floccosus—a very good find, but I collected only a clerid, a few treehoppers, and one very large and very gravid Judolia instabilis. Occasional lycids turned up in sweeps and in flight, and a single clerid was collected off of one of the few Quercus arizonica (Arizona white oak) that I beat. We had hoped to go even higher to Rustler Park, but the time was getting away from us so we headed back down the canyon to eat something before meeting up with Steve for blacklighting.
Judolia instabilis gravid female.
E side Chiricahua Mountains 1.2 mi NW Jct Rd 42 & 42A Cochise Co., Arizona We saw this area along Cave Creek with lush-looking areas near the water’s edge that looked promising for Taphrocerus. Norm swept the areas upstream from where we parked, and I swept the areas downstream—Norm finding a single Taphrocerus (either T. chevrolati or T. sulcifrons) but me sweeping only a single hispine leaf beetle.
Sceloporus jarrovii (Yarrow’s spiny lizard) in montane oak woodland.
On the way back down Cave Creek Canyon to Portal, we passed the property of the Cazier family—originally occupied by Mont Cazier, first director of the American Museum of Natural History’s nearby Southwestern Research Station.
The family of Mont Cazier, first Director of the nearby Southwestern Research Station, still owns his former residence in Cave Creek Canyon.
E side Chiricahua Mountains Herb Martyr Campground Cochise Co., Arizona Steve and I agreed that blacklighting at lower elevations would be more productive and decided to try a campground that Steve has done a few times near the Southwestern Research Station. Unfortunately, when we arrived it was already occupied (unusual, according to Steve), so we took the road the rest of the way to Herb Martyr Campground where Norm and I had collected earlier in the day. Fortunately it was vacant, so I set up my UV/MV lights in the spot nearest the parking lot while Steve set his up about 220 feet down the trail. Things looked promising when very early in the evening a male Prionus heroicus came to my lights, but that would be the only longhorned beetle we would see that night! Nevertheless, I picked up a diversity of other insects—especially cryptocephaline leaf beetles (including the smartly-dressed Griburius montezuma) and cyrtolobine treehoppers—to avoid having to consider the evening a waste. When the hoped for “9:30 cerambycid flush” did not materialize, we took down the lights and made the 2-hour drive back to Hereford.
Blacklighting with Steve Lingafelter.
Griburius montezuma at ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights in montane oak-pine woodland.
Day 18 –Huachuca Mountains (again!)
E side Huachuca Mountains Lower Carr Canyon Cochise Co., Arizona This is another of Norm’s regular spots, where he has collected a variety of Agrilus and Brachys from oaks over the years. After seeing the success that he has had during the past two days by using a very long-handled, large-rim aerial net to sweep the foliage in the higher canopy of the trees, I decided to give the method a try myself (fortunately, I already have and had brought with me such a net) and see how it compared with my standard approach of beating (which reaches the lower branches only). It was not a good day to make the comparison, as there were very few beetles to be found. I focused on sweeping Quercus arizonica (Arizona white oak) while Norm preferentially swept Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak), and both of us collected but a single buprestid—mine being the not uncommon Agrilaxia arizonae but Norm’s turning out to be the very rare Mastogenius puncticollis! Otherwise on the oak I collected only a smattering of leaf beetles. I also swept Platanus wrightii (Arizona sycamore) and collected another A. arizonae and a small eumolpine leaf beetle. With our luck running dry in the lower elevations of the canyon, we decided to go up to a higher elevation site for hopefully better luck.
“Beta-testing” the long-handled, large-rim sweep net method for sampling higher in the canopy.
E side Huachuca Mountains Reef Townsite Campgeound Cochise Co., Arizona I first came to this spot during last year’s trip, and while I didn’t collect many insects I did bring a lot of infested wood back home to put in the emergence boxes. That wood (both oak and pine) has been kicking out sawdust ever since, and I am hopeful that I will end up rearing series of some nice species as a result. Again, there is a lot of pine at this higher elevation, but Norm and I focused on Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) and Q. arizonica (Arizona white oak), respectively, in an effort to find Agrilus and Brachys. Pickings were slim, but I managed to sweep single specimens of Brachys floccosus and Brachys cephalicus from the latter tree, along with a smattering of other insects (mostly leaf beetles and weevils) while Norm collected a few Agrilus from the former. There was a large, recently wind-thrown silverleaf oak in the campground that we looked at starting out hoping to see Chrysobothris running on the trunk, but none were seen. Norm went back to check periodically, however, and got a Chrysobothris costifrons on the trunk (which he gave to me). I was happy to receive the specimen, although I would have liked to have seen the beetle come to the tree since I have yet to collect the species myself. Despite the few insects collected, I was quite happy with the day, as Brachys floccosus is a very uncommon species that I have not collected previously, and I no doubt would not have collected it had I not been using the long-handled, large-rim aerial net to gain access to the higher branches in the canopy. The technique certainly warrants far more use than I have been giving it.
Quercus arizonica (Arizona white oak).
E side Huachuca Mountains Upper Miller Canyon Rd Cochise Co., Arizona On the way back to Hereford, we stopped off at Norm’s “Taphrocerus spot” near the upper end of Miller Canyon Rd. Norm has collected not only T. chevrolati and T. sulcifrons by sweeping the small patch of sedges at this spot (species I have previously collected at a spot lower down in the canyon during my first visit to Arizona way back in 1987), but also T. leoni—a Mexican species heretofore not formally recorded from the U.S. I have tried, without success, to collect Taphrocerus from the lower spot on several subsequent visits, so I was hopeful that being here earlier in the season would result in better success. It happened quickly! We each got a few specimens, including T. leoni (distinctive in the field due to its shiny appearance, larger size, and distinct pubescent maculations), by sweeping the isolated plants on the north side of the creek bed and more specimens by sweeping the patch of mixed sedges, rushes, and grasses on the south side of the creek bed. Later examination of the specimens under the microscope revealed that all three species were represented—success! Nearby, there were a few Quercus arizonica (Arizona white oak) that had been trimmed a few years ago and were generating vigorous resprouts, off which Norm swept a few Agrilus abditus. This is another species that I have not encountered previously, and Norm generously gave the specimens to me. As this was my last day staying with Norm and Steve and we’d planned to go out for a nice dinner, we called it a day and headed back to the house. Still, despite the few number of specimens collected on the day, I could not be disappointed considering they represented eight species of buprestids—four of which I’d never collected before!
Miller Peak from upper Miller Canyon Rd.
We closed out my week’s visit with Norm and Steve with a tasty dinner at Pizzeria Mimosa, a glass of fine cognac, and the persistent affections of their dog Noxy!
Me, Norm Woodley, and Steve Lingafelter at “Pizzeria Mimosa.”
Celebrating a successful week of collecting with a fine cognac!
Enduring the affections of “Noxy”!
Day 19 – Apache Junction area
Superstition Mountains Needle Vista Viewpoint Maricopa Co., Arizona After bidding adieu to Norm and Steve, I drove north to the Superstition Mountains to meet up with Paul Kaufman for a day of collecting and reconnecting. I first met Paul many years ago when he lived in Missouri and contacted me after collecting Saperda fayi—a very uncommon longhorned beetle that, at the time, had not yet been collected in Missouri. Paul and I spent time in the field a couple of times after that—once in southeast Missouri and another time after he moved to Farmington, New Mexico, and for many years afterwards Paul continued to send me beetles that he’d collected for identification. It was good to see him again after so many years, and I enjoyed chatting as we roamed the mountainous desert looking for beetles.
Paul had arrived first and, upon seeing how dry it was (and had been for a very long time), was not optimistic about our chances of success on the day. Nevertheless, I got out the long-handled net to see what we might find on the upper branches of the mesquites and acacias that dotted the landscape. We quickly became a little more optimistic when a Chrysobothris octocola ended up in my net with the very first tree that I swept, and over the next couple of hours I swept a variety of buprestids from Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) and Vachellia constricta (whitethorn acacia)—including five species of Chrysobothris (C. knulli and C. merkelii both new species for the trip) and a nice series of Acmaeoderopsis sp.
For his part, Paul was surprised at the number of specimens that I managed to collect compared to what his expectations were starting out, and I have to give the credit to my use of the long-handled net, which I now firmly believe is a superior collecting method for buprestids compared to the beating sheet (at least in certain situations). The net bag essentially takes the place of the beating sheet, but since it is deeper the beetles are much less likely to escape like they can when they land on the sheet. Rather than hitting the branch from the top, the net bag is placed over the whole branch tip and gently shaken or placed under the branch and the rim tapped against the branch from below. There is less disturbance to neighboring branches if done carefully, and as a result the entire tree can be sampled in the same amount of time that is required to sample only the lower branches using a beating sheet, making it much more efficient. I estimate that on average I collected about twice as many specimens with this technique compared to beating, plus the ability to get into the upper canopy allowed me to capture some species that I would not have encountered by beating only. I am looking forward to making greater use of this technique in other areas and habitats.
Superstition Mountains 1 mi NE Tortilla Flat Maricopa Co., Arizona Having worked the area at Needle Vista Viewpoint sufficiently, we went to another nearby spot in the Superstition Mountains recommended by Norm and Steve.
Late afternoon sun over Mesquite Creek near Tortilla Flat.
The trees were quite a bit smaller at this location, and temps were starting to drop as we were later in the day, so I opted for the beating sheet instead of the long-handled net. Almost immediately I beat a single Chrysobothris knulli off of Vachellia constricta (whitethorn acacia), but further beating produced only a series of clytrine leaf beetles. As I was working the tree, I noticed an herbaceous plant clump below that showed evidence of feeding on the leaves, and unfurling the damaged leaves revealed numerous Microrhopala rubrolineata on what turned out to be Ambrosia ambrosioides (canyon ragweed). Interestingly, on many of the leaves with M. rubrolineata, there was also a small chlamasine leaf beetle (possibly Exema sp.) cohabiting the leaf (see photo).
Ambrosia ambrosioides (canyon ragweed).
Microrhopala rubrolineata (and a single Exema? sp.) on Ambrosia ambrosioides (canyon ragweed).
In a small area, we encountered a “hot spot” of buprestids—first I beat Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata from a dead branch of Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite). After I put the specimen in the vial, I noticed an Acmaeoderopsis junki sitting on the sheet that I’d overlooked—it was so pulverescent that I almost didn’t see it! Over the next half hour or so, I/we beat several buprestids from the mesquites in that small area, including Chrysobothris merkelii, C. octocola, and C. rossi along with a few other miscellaneous beetles. Paul also collected a couple of Agrilus (possibly A. felix) from Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), but my beatings from the plants produced only a few miscellaneous beetles. Finally, I found Quercus turbinella (turbinella oak, shrub live oak, gray oak—sometimes considered a subspecies of Q. dumosa), one of the few oaks that occur in lower elevation desert chaparral habitats, but beating its dense branches yielded only a single leaf beetle.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata, beaten from dead branch of Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite).
Acmaeoderopsis junki, beaten from dead branch of Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite).
By this time, it was getting late in the day and I wanted to setup blacklights back at Needle Vista Viewpoint, so Paul and I said our goodbyes before he headed back home and I headed for Needle Vista. On the way there, I stopped at a couple of scenic turnouts and enjoyed spectacular evening and sunset views to the west.
Late evening vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Late evening vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Late evening vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Sunset vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Sunset vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Sunset vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Me enjoying a sunset vista from Apache Trail above Needle Vista Viewpoint.
Superstition Mountains Needle Vista Viewpoint Maricopa Co., Arizona I returned to Needle Vista Viewpoint with just enough time to set up the UV/MV lights and enjoy a nice brew while darkness settled. High temps and low wind held the promise of a good night, and I was encouraged by the number and diversity of insects that began to flock to the lights as the last vestiges of sunlight silhouetted the mountains behind me and a stunning crescent moon blazed over them. Cryptocephaline leaf beetles came to the lights in numbers, and eventually the longhorned beetles started coming—sporadically at first, and then regularly once the “9:30 ‘bycid flight” began. Most of the longhorned beetles were elaphidiines, presumably species of Anelaphus, and around 10:00, just as suddenly as it had begun, the ‘bycid flight ended. It was an appropriately successful last night of blacklighting for my last night in Arizona and the beginning of the long trip back home starting the next morning—with a planned detour into western Oklahoma before finally heading home.
Enjoying a brew while the blacklights hum.
A crescent moon blazes above a mountain silhouette at nightall.
Creeping nightfall.
Sinking moon.
Insara elegans (elegant bush katydid) at ultraviolet/mercury vapor light.
Day 20 – Travel Day (Phoenix to Boise City)
Today’s plan was to drive from Phoenix, Arizona to the area around Black Mesa, Oklahoma in hopes that I would arrive in time to setup blacklights in the area. That plan did not work out, as the distance was just a bit too far (going from Arizona Standard Time to Central Daylight Time also robbed me of an additional two hours!). My route took me through northeastern Arizona and northern New Mexico on roads that I’ve not previously traveled, so I at least got a good look at some parts of the country that I haven’t seen before. It was well after dark by the time I reached the western panhandle of Oklahoma, so blacklighting was not an option. Instead, I headed straight for the motel and hoped for success in the morning.
“I did that!”
Day 21 – Oklahoma Panhandle
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron Co., Oklahoma I’ve been to this place twice before, and both times my efforts to collect were thwarted—first by dry conditions during another early June trip in 2013, and then again just four weeks ago by cold, rainy conditions. Still, I can’t help but feel that this area has a lot of potential—if I can just get the timing right. The rainout during my last trip made me think now would be the time, as it was super dry but receiving plenty of moisture while I was there. My only doubt was whether four weeks afterwards would be soon enough or if everything would have already happened and the place had dried out again before I got there. As it turns out, I believe that I may have still been too early (more on my reasoning for that later). I wanted to access the small canyon on the north side of the park, where soapberries and hackberries in the craggy rocks promised to yield a diversity of buprestids associated with those plants, and parked at the Scenic Overlook to hike down into the canyon. Puzzlingly, I did not get anything on either plant, save for a single clytrine leaf beetle on Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry), many of which were still pushing out new foliage. Sweeping the soapberrys, all still pre-bloom, was also fruitless, and even the few flowers that I found failed to produce any buprestids. At least other people will be happy—I collected a few dasytine beetles for Matt Gimmel and a couple of bees for Mike Arduser on flowers of Berlandiera lyrata (lyreleaf greeneyes). Hiking back up above of the canyon, I noticed a lone Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) in full leaf and flower—a last chance for buprestids—but collected only a few more clytrine leaf beetles. It was a rare “buprestid strike out” for the trip, and I was beginning to think once again I would fail in my effort to unlock the potential of this area in the extreme northwestern corner of extreme northwestern Oklahoma. The day was young, however, and I decided to try my luck at another spot outside the park near Black Mesa Preserve where rocky outcroppings feature stands of oak—unusual in this area and always a potentially good host for buprestids.
Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) and Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) dominate the rocky bluffs at Black Mesa State Park.
1.6 mi E Kenton on Hwy 325 Cimarron Co., Oklahoma I’ve also been to this spot a couple of times before—first during the aforementioned dry-as-a-bone June visit, and again the following year during late June. On that latter visit, I caught a number of Prionus heroicus (then a new state record for Oklahoma) and found buprestid-infested oak branches that I brought back for rearing (sadly, nothing emerged). Otherwise, I did not find much else going on, giving the visit a “too late” feel. This time started out much the same, as I started beating the oaks (ID’d on iNaturalist as Quercus × undulata, or wavyleaf oak). No insects were found at first, but I noticed a small tree that looked recently dead and encountered a chrysobothrine larva shortly after I began splitting branches. I went back to the car to get the hand saw and cut up the branches to bring back for rearing—hopefully I will have better luck this time rearing adults from the wood. I worked a number of oaks on the outcropping without finding anything, noting that many of them were just beginning to push new leaves, before crossing the highway and beating a single leaf beetle from a lone tree in full leaf.
Oak-colonized rock outcropping.
By now I was losing interest in the spot, but I’d seen a few mesquites further down the highway and thought I should at least give them a try. Again, nothing but a few leaf beetles and lots of leaffooted bugs (probably Mozena obtusa), so I finally accepted defeat—it seemed that I was again “too early”—and began working my way back to the car. At least I had the promise of buprestids from the wood I was bringing back for rearing. Rather than retracing my steps, however, I decided to walk the 2-track around the back side of the outcropping back to the car. About halfway up the road I saw an impressive Efferia sp. robber fly and, with not much left to do, occupied myself with trying to photograph it despite its repeated loping flits away from me.
Efferia sp. male (family Asilidae).
Efferia sp. male (family Asilidae).
Efferia sp. male (family Asilidae).
Resuming my trek back to the car, I then noticed Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greethread) flowers—with an Acmaeodera mixta adult sitting on one of them! Not that this species is at all uncommon, but if this species was at flowers then perhaps other species were as well. I’d seen precious few flowers to this point, so I began looking intently to make sure I wasn’t walking by any (Thelesperma can be easy to overlook due to its lack of ray flowers). I didn’t see any more flowers until I got back to the car, and there, not five feet from the car, were a few small Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed)—each with one or two Acmaeodera sp. prob. neglecta. Finally, buprestids!
Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greethread).
Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed).
I put my plans to leave on hold, set out some white bowl traps along the 2-track, and began searching for other flowers there and in areas adjacent to the highway. I would end up spending several more hours at the spot, finding additional Thelesperma and Xanthisma plants with the aforementioned buprestids on the flowers and also some small black individuals that could either be immaculate forms of the A. neglecta-like species or a different species altogether. Also in the same area, I found a single flowering plant of Calylophus lavandulifolius (lavender leaf sundrops) that, after visiting several times, produced several Acmaeodera (including one individual that I don’t recognize—larger and broader than A. neglecta and with uniform vittae rather than irregular spots)—and a single flowering individual of Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf groundsel) with a few A. mixta.
In the flats above the outcroppings, I noticed Echinocereus v. viridiflorus (green-flower hedgehog cactus) now in bloom (in contrast to earlier in the day at Black Mesa State Park). Most of the flowers on the plants were swarming with dasytine beetles, but a lone plant with a single flower that lacked dasytines had one A. neglecta-like buprestid in the flower. At some point while making the rounds between the flowers, I noticed an A. mixta in flight and successfully netted it.
Echinocereus v. viridiflorus (green-flower hedgehog cactus).
Once I’d monitored all the flowers in the area to my heart’s content, I picked up the bowl traps—all of which contained numerous Acmaeodera of multiple species (so happy that I saw this method work, first from Mike during last month’s Oklahoma trip, then earlier on this trip by accident in Mescalero Sands).
White bowl trap with several Acmaeodera spp.
My impression now, seeing how many of the trees were still pushing out leaves and that buprestid activity was limited to species of Acmaeodera, is that early June is still early season for this area (at least this year), and the timing of the season probably depends much more on the timing of rains—more similar to the western U.S.—than on the calendar and temperatures as in the eastern U.S. As a final effort to maximize my haul, I cut up some recently-cut branches of Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper) that I’d noticed earlier, finding a small cerambycid larva (probably Callidium sp.) under the bark when I cut into it. With both batches of wood cut up, bundled, and loaded into the car, it was finally time to make the final push home—or so I thought…
6 mi E Harmon Ellis Co., Oklahoma As I was leaving the Black Mesa area, I remembered a spot in Ellis Co. where I’d looked for Brachys barberi during last month’s western Oklahoma trip with Mike Arduser. Even though I was not successful in finding the species during that trip, I did collect a series of Agrilaxia texana—represented in my cabinet at the time by just two specimens collected decades ago—and one Elytroleptus floridanus—represented previously in my cabinet by just a single specimen and with this most recent collection representing a significant northwestern range extension and new host record for the species. The spot would not be too far out of the way, and since I would need to spend another night on the road anyway another attempt after allowing the season to progress a bit more might be worthwhile. Still, it would be a three-and-a-half-hour drive, which would get me there less than an hour before dusk. When I arrived (around 8:00 p.m.), I was happy to see the stands of Quercus havardii (shin oak) we’re putting out fresh foliage—something they were not yet doing on my previous visit (fresh oak foliage = Brachys!). I began sweeping the stands nearest the car and quickly came up with more A. texana along with a variety of miscellaneous beetles (mostly leaf beetles and weevils), but it wasn’t until I started sweeping stands with larger plants and the copse of tree-like plants that I finally found a couple of B. barberi. [Edit: Unfortunately, subsequent examination revealed them to be the common eastern species B. ovatus and not B. barberi.] There wasn’t much time left to sweep other stands, as by then it was getting too dark to see into the net. I was, however, able to see several longhorned beetles that had bedded down on flowers of Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower) growing near the car and along the road, including Batyle ignicollis, B. suturalis, and Strangalia sexnotata. It wasn’t long before dusk had turned to darkness, and it truly was time to call it a day and officially bring to an end the collecting activities for the trip after 21 days. With nearly 600 miles still to go, tomorrow will be strictly travel with no detours… for a change.
Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower) with Strangalia sexnotata and a mating pair of Batyle suturalis bedded down for the night.
Everything’s bigger in Texas… and western Oklahoma!
Day 22 – Travel Day (Woodward to St. Louis)
There is nothing sadder than the final travel day home after a long collecting trip—especially one as successful as this one. Nevertheless, I looked forward to starting the day with coffee from my favorite “creationist” coffee shop (which Mike and I discovered on our prior trip to western Oklahoma just a few weeks earlier). I’m not normally one to patronize such overtly evangelical businesses, but I had to admit they served a good cup of Joe. Sadly, a sign on the door read “Permanently Closed”—I suppose proselytizing and sipping Joe just don’t mix.
Sad to find my favorite “creationist” coffee shop has closed permanently!
Arriving home later that evening closed out my longest ever driving trip—5,181 miles! Had Norm and Steve not been kind enough to do the driving while I stayed with them during the final week of my trip, the number of miles would have been even higher.
Final stats for the trip—5,181 miles with nearly 100 hours of drive time (= 53.5 mph average).
Following is a preliminary checklist of the Buprestidae collected during the trip—66 species in all! This number surely will increase once I mount and examine all the specimens, since only the species that I recognize with some degree of confidence are listed, but it already exceeds the number of species collected on any other trip I’ve made, at least in the U.S. (trips to South Africa and Mexico probably well exceed this number). Interestingly, of the 66 species collected, 17 are species I’ve never collected (five also being completely new to my collection), despite having already made several trips to many of the areas I visited. This speaks to the importance of repeated visits to the field, especially at different times of the season and in different years, continual refinement of collecting techniques and strategies, and taking advantage of opportunities to learn from others. I’m already planning next year’s trip out west, which will surely involve different timing and multiple field companions.
Preliminary List of Buprestidae Collected 17 May to 6 June 2022 in Illinois, Missouri, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Oklahoma *species not previously collected **species new to my collection
Welcome to the 11th “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering a very short (4 days) trip to northwestern Oklahoma on May 3–7, 2022. My collecting partner for this trip was long-time friend and hymenopterist Mike Arduser. Mike is one of the best natural historians that I know and, like me, has a special love for the often overlooked beauty of western Oklahoma and its fascinating insect fauna. It had been 13 years, however—too long, in my opinion, since our last joint field trip when we sampled the bee (Mike) and beetle (me) fauna at The Nature Conservancy’s Four Canyon Preserve in Ellis Co. Thus, I was happy for the chance to once again spend some time in the field with such a knowledgeable naturalist in an area we that both know and love.
Day 1 – Gloss Mountain State Park (Major Co.) It took most of the day to get here—Tulsa threw us a couple of obstacles in the form of a construction-mediated wrong turn and a motorcycle engulfed in flames. I’ve been to Gloss Mountain a number of times, but never this early in the season. Skies were sunny (unlike St. Louis when we left this morning), but temps didn’t get much above 60°F and even dropped down into the upper 50s before we finished up at sunset.
Gloss Mountain State Park – early evening view from atop the mesa.
Surprisingly, despite the earliness of the season and cool temps, beating was quite productive. Working the low areas around the parking lot, I beat a fair number and diversity of beetles and hemipterans—mostly chrysomelids—but only a single Agrilus sp. off of Prosopis glandulosa.
This must be Oenothera macrocarpa ssp. oklahomensis (bigfruit evening primrose, Ozark sundrop, Missouri evening primrose).
I knew there were other trees, principally Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) and Sapindus drummondii (soapberry), on top of the mesa and wanted to see if anything was on them. Bingo! Even before reaching the top, I beat a few Agrilus (several spp.) from the Celtis, and up on top I beat quite a few more off the same. There were also additional mesquite trees up top, off which I again beat a single Agrilus sp. along with a few other things, notably a series of ceresine treehoppers. The Sapindus was just starting to leaf out, and I found nothing by beating them other than a single ceresine. A notable find was the pile of larval frass of Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer) at the base of a living Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) tree—a sure sign of active infestation by a beetle I have yet to formally record from this place.
Frass at the base of a small Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia)—evidence of an active larval infestation by Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer).
On the way back down from the top, we hit the sunset perfectly as it “touched” a peak in the foreground! Despite my success here this evening, Mike saw no bees of interest on the few flowers that were found due to the cold temps and chilling winds, so tomorrow we will continue west hoping for warmer conditions on the western edge of Oklahoma.
Dramatic sunset “landing” on a small foreground peak.
The opportunity lasted for only a minute!
Back in town, we searched for an open sit-down restaurant—fruitlessly because of the late hour—and ended up with a mediocre breakfast burrito from a fast food shop I’ve never been to before. The local Buick dealership, however, with its 1950s neon lights shining brightly in the night sky, was a taste of Americana that makes these trips so enjoyable. Life on the road!
Jensen’s Buick, Fairview, Oklahoma.
Day 2 – Black Mesa State Park (Cimmaron Co.) Welp! We awoke this morning to cold temps (low 60s), thick fog, and low hanging clouds, and the forecast for the area showed essentially no improvement through at least the day. Our plan had been to hit a spot about an hour southwest before heading back north to Beaver Dunes State Park, but the forecast for both those areas also was cold and wet. It was not until we looked at the forecast for Black Mesa—our last planned stop of the trip and a 4½-hour-drive to the west—that the forecast seemed to be in our favor, so we decided to blast on out there. We figured we would get there at about 2:00 pm and could spend the rest of the day there collecting, camp there tonight, and start heading back east tomorrow (assuming the forecast improved for the areas we missed).
Pronghorn antelope (Antilocapra americana).
Wrong! When we got there, it was not only cloudy and cold, but dry as a bone! Even if it had been sunny with warmer temps, there still would not have been any insect activity to speak of. The leaves of oaks and hackberries in the area were just barely starting to break bud, and the only flowers we saw at the park were a large willow in full bloom—but not a single insect visiting them. Knowing that there was no other place where conditions were better that we could drive to within the next couple of hours and collect for at least a short time, we instead decided to make it a hiking day and hike the High Point Trail at nearby Black Mesa Nature Preserve.
Black Mesa Nature Preserve (Cimmaron Co.) When we arrived and looked at the signage, we learned that the hike to the oracle at the official high point would be a more than 8-mile hike! Just reaching the top of the mesa itself would be a more than 3-mile-hike, with the high point another mile on top. Not knowing if we had the appetite for such a distance (or time to do it before sunset) and with the wind cold and biting, we started out anyway and gave ourselves permission to turn around at any point if we felt like it.
View along High Point Trail.
View along High Point Trail.
Berlandiera lyrata (lyreleaf greeneyes).
Nevertheless, we persevered. We checked the cholla (Cylindropuntia imbricata) along the way hoping to see Coenopoeus palmeri (one of the cactus longhorns, which I’m not sure has been recorded from Oklahoma) or at least one of the more widespread Moneilema species, but none were seen (nor really expected). The trail up the side of the mesa was steep and spectacular, and the trail atop the mesa was surreal—especially given the cold winds and low-hanging clouds. Eventually, we made it to the official high point and enjoyed the fun facts carved into each side of the granite obolisk marking the spot.
View along High Point Trail about halfway up the climb.
Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper).
Oklahoma High Point obolisk.
Oklahoma High Point marker.
Mike (right) and me at Oklahoma High Point.
Coming back down was not much easier than going up, the steepness of the trail jamming my toes into the toe box of my new hiking boots (which performed admirably!), but I did find an insect—a largish black weevil torpidly crawling on the trail. Even on the relatively level lower portion of the trail once we got there was difficult, our legs really starting to feel the miles now. As we hiked the last mile back to the car, the temperature continued to plummet as it started to sprinkle, turning to rain soon after we reached the car and then heavy rain as we headed down the highway back to the east. The irony of the situation—rain coming to a parched landscape just when we are ready to leave—did not escape us. We’ll spend the night in Boise City and hope for a better forecast tomorrow!
Descending the upper slope on the High Point Trail.
Day 3 – Beaver Dunes State Park (Beaver Co.) Temps were down in the mid-40s when we awoke this morning, but skies were sunny and we were heartened by a promising forecast of continued sun and highs in the low to mid-60s. Our first destination—Beaver Dunes—was a relatively short 2-hour drive further east, and when we arrived sunny skies still prevailed. Unfortunately, temps still hovered in the mid-50s with a biting wind that made using the beating sheet difficult to impossible.
Dunes at Beaver Dunes State Park.
That said, I managed to beat a fair series of Agrilus spp. (probably mostly one species) and a few other beetles off living Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) dotting the roadside along the entrance to the Picnic Area. Under the main group of hackberries I noticed new growth of Cucurbita foetedissima (buffalo gourd) along with last year’s dead stems. I’ve never collected Dorcasta cinerea (a longhorn beetle that utilizes buffalo gourd as a larval host), so I began splitting open the old stems to see if I could find unemerged adults. I didn’t, but what I did note inside the stems was evidence of boring by some insects and, eventually, the tiniest little scolytine bark beetles that I’ve ever seen. They were always found right at the node, usually in pairs (perhaps male and female?), and I ended up collecting a series of about a dozen specimens from two different stems.
Tradescantia occidentalis (prairie spiderwort, western spiderwort).
Also in the main group of hackberries, I noticed a dead branch hanging from the tree, which had fallen but gotten snagged on a lower branch to remain off the ground. The branch was obviously infested and showed a few emergence holes indicative of both buprestids and cerambycids, and when I broke into it I found two unemerged adult Agrilus (different species), which caused me to cut and bundle the branch to being back for rearing. At the entrance, I went to examine the stand of yellow flowers that greeted our arrival, determining them to be Pyrrhopappus pauciflorus (smallflower desert-chicory, Texas false dandelion). While I was on the ground photographing the flowers, I noticed a red and black hister beetle that proved to be Spilodiscus sp.—aptly named considering the two red maculations on the elytra. I also noticed a couple of tiger beetle larval burrows in the hard-packed sandy soil and found a long, thin plant stem to “fish” the larvae out. I managed to snag the larva in one of the burrows, which I believe is Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) by virtue of the thin white margin around the prothorax and the open habitat in which the larval burrow occurred. If this is true, then it is a second instar because it is slightly smaller than a typical Cicindela sp. third-instar larva.
Afterwards, I went over to the dunes to see if Mike had found anything, but temps were still too cold to see anything flying. He did, however, show me an interesting stand of Penstemon that he’d found and that we determined to be P. fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon). The plants were all on the north side of the dune in apparently protected spots, and I noted that on iNaturalist our observation was the northernmost record for the species (save one suspicious, disjunct Colorado record).
Penstemon fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon).
Penstemon fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon).
On the way back to the car, I beat a few more beetles off living Celtis reticulata. By now, we’d seen all we needed to see here and decided to head southeast to one of the Brachys barberi locations (that were the reason for this trip in the first place).
5 mi E of Harmon (Ellis Co.) This
Recently, another coleopterist collected Brachys barberi—more typically a southwestern species—on Quercus harvardii (shinnery oak) at this spot. I’ve not managed to find the species myself yet, and as it was collected on May 3rd last year I hoped the timing would be right. Quercus havardii dominated the landscape at this spot, mostly as thick stands of low-growing shrubs but also as a copse of small trees.
At first, I swept the lowest-growing plants, collecting a variety of mostly chrysomelids and curculionids and even one Agrilus sp., before moving to beating along the sunny edges of the patches of taller shrubs and collecting similar species (but no Agrilus sp.). Just to the north, I noticed a stand of individuals tall enough to be considered trees (presumably a clonal stand) and began beating them. Immediately I began collecting not only the chrysomelids and curculionds that I was collecting before, but also several Agrilus spp. and what must be Agrilaxia texana—a species represented in my cabinet by just two specimens that I collected in northeastern Texas way back in 1984.
I worked nearly the full perimeter of the copse, noticing that most of the beetles were being collected only on the south-facing sunny (and leeward) side. When I was just about ready to call it quits, a much larger black and yellow beetle landed on the sheet. For an instant I thought it was a lycid, but it moved characteristically like a longhorned beetle, and I quickly realized that I had collected Elytroleptus floridanus—a quite rare southeastern U.S. species that I have only seen once before when I reared a single individual from dead oak that I collected in the Missouri bootheel (and representing a new state record). I wasn’t sure the species had ever been recorded from Oklahoma, so I found Gryzmala’s revision of the genus online and saw that it had been previously recorded from the state—but all the way over on the east side near the border of Arkansas. All records from Texas as well are from the eastern side of the state, so today’s capture appears to represent a significant northwestern extension of the species’ known geographic range by about 300 miles!
Sadly, I never saw Brachys barberi, but collecting Elytroleptus floridanus (in Oklahoma!) was a pretty good consolation prize.😊
Day 4 – Prologue (“Good to Go” coffee shop) We awoke to bright sunny skies, and though a tad chilly it was still warmer than the previous mornings and with a good forecast to boot! It would take about an hour to drive to the day’s collecting spot—the one and only Gloss Mountain State Park (where we visited briefly a few days ago to start the trip), but not until after an unexpected and hilariously bizarre experience at a coffee shop in town called “Good to Go”.
“Good to Go” coffee shop lounge.
Mike was the first to notice the velociraptor in the lounge—saddled up for a ride! Okay, that’s cute. Then he noticed the sign on the outdoor display that read “Stegosaurs roamed the Earth about 5,000 years ago.” At first I thought, okay, they’re a little confused on the timeline, but what they’re trying to say is that dinosaurs lived a long time ago.
“Stegosaurs roamed the Earth about 5,000 years ago.”
Then I noticed a granite plaque in the background that clearly read “The Holy Bible”, and it dawned on me that we had entered a creationist’s den! Had we not already ordered our coffee, I might have surreptitiously tiptoed my long-haired hippy butt out of there before somebody pointed at me and began slowly chanting “Lucifer!”
Apparently this is overwhelming evidence that humans saw living dinosaurs.
Once we were outside the shop, our coffee secured and the need for hushed tones no longer muffling our reactions, we took a quick walk with the dinosaurs to admire their seeming scientific accuracy. I was impressed with the T. rex in particular, it’s body axis realistically horizontal with the tail straight and strong—not the lumbering, upright, tail-dragging version that I learned about as a kid. At least they were accepting some of the current body of scientific evidence on dinosaurs and ignoring only that dealing with their age—or so I thought…
A remarkably scientifically accurate rendition of T. rex with the more recently advocated horizontal posture.
The stegosaur as well appeared to be fairly accurately rendered, its tail also straight and strong and a youngster trailing closely behind, until I noticed something atop the adult—an angel riding it! ‘God’s creatures big and small’, I guess.
Note the angel riding the stegosaur!
The coup de grace was the information plaque behind the stegosaur. Rather than providing information on dinosaurs, I was instead treated to a barrage of hilariously unsupported claims advocating the idea that humans and dinosaurs once lived together. Each “factoid” on the plaque was more bizarre and quotable than the one before. Did you know that the adult stegosaur probably died 4,000 years ago in the Great Flood, but that the baby—happily—likely survived by getting a ride on the Ark with Noah! And all that scientific evidence that pinpoints the Cretaceous extinction to 65 million years ago? Apparently it has merely been fabricated as part of a global conspiracy because scientists just don’t want to agree with the Bible. I just about lost it, however, when I reached “It is uncertain if humans ever rode Dinosaurs, but there is overwhelming evidence that humans saw living dinosaurs.” I mean—What?!
I don’t even know where to begin!
Our unplanned morning entertainment now done, we hit the road for our next—and final—collecting spot for the trip.
Gloss Mountain State Park (Major Co.) We arrived at about 10 am with a plan to spend the rest of the day there—whether the collecting was good or bad, this would be our final stand. We hiked up to the mesa, stopping at an accessible spot about halfway up to work the trees (me) or set out pan traps (Mike). Beating the Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) yielded a similar assortment of beetles as last time—a couple of Agrilus spp. along with the occasional chrysomelid or curculionoid and a few other beetles, and the same was true with Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite), with the exception that I did not find any Agrilus this time.
Gloss Mountain State Park – view west from atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Atop the mesa, I decided to do an entire perimeter hike—something I’ve always wanted to do but never actually accomplished. The idea was to beat all of the C. reticulata, P. glandulosa, and Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) that I could find in an effort to “leave no stone unturned” in my quest for beetles. Soon after starting out, I saw a nice Pasimachus elongatus ground beetle running across the mesa top and “forced” it to cooperate for photos by pinning a hind tarsus to the ground with my finger tip (barely visible in the upper left side of the photo). I collected it, as well as another that I saw a short distance away, and then proceeded with the beatings! Beating the C. reticulata was quite productive, with perhaps three Agrilus spp. and numerous other beetles being collected off of nearly every tree that I beat. Beating P. glandulosa also was productive for various beetles, though again no Agrilus were encountered. The biggest surprise came when I started beating S. drummondii, most of which were still in the earliest stages of leafing out. I got nothing from most of the trees (the majority of which were clustered in a small copse near the front of the mesa), but in the back part of the cluster were a couple of trees with noticeably more foliage—beating them yielded perhaps a dozen Agrilus limpiae, a soapberry specialist that I haven’t seen in numbers since 1986 when I collected a series on soapberry in south-central Kansas.
Gloss Mountain State Park – view west from atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Pasimachus elongatus (family Carabidae) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
I rarely get anything beating Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia), but I beat most of the trees that I saw anyway and collected one cryptocephaline chrysomelid and two curculionoids. A single Eleodes hispilabris (apparently on its last leg) was seen near the north end of the mesa, which I photographed and collected, and on the way back I encountered a small patch of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) in bloom, from the flowers of which I collected a few small melyrid-type beetles and a small halictid bee for Mike. Also on the north part of the mesa I saw a young eastern collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris), who posed just long enough for me to get off a shot before blasting away from my approaching lens.
Eleodes hispilabris (family Tenebrioindae) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Throughout the hike atop the mesa I kept my eye out for “new-to-me” plants (of which there are many), finding for the first time Toxicodendron radicans ssp. negundo (Midwestern poison ivy) and blooming individuals of Chaetopappa ericoides (rose heath). Physaria gordonii (Gordon’s bladderpod)—a relative of the federally threatened P. filiformis (Missouri bladderpod)—was blooming abundantly atop the mesa. At this point, Mike and I rejoined and relayed to each other our more notable findings. For Mike’s part, he had seen a couple of cacti that I had missed—Escobaria missouriensis (Missouri foxtail cactus) and Echinocereus reichenbachii perbellus (black lace cactus)—and took me to the spots where he had seen them. While retracing our steps, we also found Gaillardia suavis (pincushion daisy, perfumeballs) and the strikingly beautiful Penstemon cobaea (cobaea beardtongue, prairie beardtongue, foxglove penstemon).
By this time, I had been on the mesa top for five hours, and even though temperatures were mild (mid-70s) I desperately needed food and water. Mike, for his part, had also had a wildly successful day with bees, capturing many at the flowers and many more in the various pan traps (both in top and halfway up the slope). I descended the steep slope with its mixture of metal steps, cut rock, and wooden planks and enjoyed a quick feast of sardines and Triscuits (a decades-long bug-collecting-trip staple) washed down with Gatorade before getting back to work on the mesquite around the parking lot. I was committed to trying to find Agrilus on the plants—a single individual of which I’d beaten from the plants three days earlier, and after beating several plants and seeing none (but collecting a great number of clytrine and cryptocephaline chrysomelids along with other insects) I finally found one! I continued to work the trees and collect primarily chrysomelids, but no more Agrilus were seen. I am hopeful that it will be a southwestern species not currently known from Oklahoma—a situation I have found with several other Prosopis-associated beetles in this part of northwestern Oklahoma.
Gloss Mountain State Park – view north from atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Gloss Mountain State Park – history of the name.
I hadn’t intended to work any additional Prosopis beyond the road into the parking lot, but there were a few particularly large trees along the front of the park next to the highway rest stop. The first one I beat yielded a very large cryptocephaline that I had not seen on any of the other Prosopis, so I continued beating them and collected a nice series along with a few other clytrines, pachybrachines, and curculionoids. At the furthest point west, I recalled having seen during a previous visit a western diamondback rattlesnake a bit further to the west, so I continued to the spot hoping to see another. No such luck, so I tiptoed through the tall grass back to safety and made my way back to the car to wrap up seven and a half hours of collecting on a spectacular day—sadly, the last of the trip!
Epilogue This trip was just a warm-up. In just over one week, I will head out again—this time to western Texas and southern Arizona for sure, and maybe elsewhere depending on how things go. At three weeks, it will be the longest collecting trip I’ve done since I went to South Africa in 1999 and Ecuador 10 years before that. I’m also looking forward to meeting up with a number of other coleopterists at various points during the trip—Jason Hansen, Joshua Basham, and Tyler Hedlund in Texas, and Norm Woodley and Steve Lingafelter in Arizona. If there is time, I may stop off at a place or two in northeastern New Mexico and at Black Mesa on the way back. Look for an iReport on that trip sometime in early-mid June!
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.
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 #1. This one appears to be a large female.
Hogna sp. (burrow-living wolf spider)—individual #2.
Hogna sp. (burrow-living wolf spider)—individual #2.
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.
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 CanyonTrail 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.
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.
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.
GoldMine 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 Rivernear 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.
For the first post of 2009, I begin with a look back at some of my favorite photos from 2008 (idea stolen from Alex Wild and others). I initially hesitated to do a “best photos” post since I’m not really a photographer – just an entomologist with a camera. Nevertheless, and with that caveat in mind, I offer ten photos that represent some of my favorites from this past year. To force some diversity in my picks, I’ve created “winning” categories (otherwise you might just see ten tiger beetles!). Click on the photos to see larger versions, and feel free to vote for your favorite. If so, what did you like about it? Was there a photo I didn’t pick that you liked better? Enjoy!
Best tiger beetle
From “All the better to see you with, my dear!” (September 2008). Picking a top tiger beetle photo was tough with so many to choose from. Ultimately, I decided I really like these face-on shots, and of the several I’ve posted this one of Cicindela formosa generosa has the overall best composition, balance and symmetry. I considered this one of Cicindela formosa formosa – with its half-cocked jaws, it probably has better personality. However, the one above got the final nod because it is a true field shot of an unconfined, unmanipulated individual.
Best jewel beetle
From Buppies in the bush(veld) (December 2008). Although taken back in 1999, I just recently scanned and posted this photo of Agelia petelii from South Africa. I like the bold, contrasting colors of the beetle combined with the soft colors of the host foliage. Runners up included these photos of Evides pubiventris with its sumptuous iridescent green blending beautifully with the green background (but suffering slightly from shallow depth of field) and Chrysobothris femorata with its intricate surface sculpturing.
Best longhorned beetle
From Rattled in the Black Hills (September 2008). This was an easy choice – none of the other longhorned beetle photos that I posted during 2008 matched this photo of Tetraopes femoratus for clarity, composition, and the striking contrast between the red color of the beetle and the green color of the host plant. I especially like the detailing of the body pubescence.
Best non-beetle insect
From Magnificently Monstrous Muscomorphs (November 2008). I do like other insect besides beetles, and robber flies are hard to beat for their charisma. This photo of Proctacanthus milbertii (which, as Chris Taylor pointed out, literally translates to “Milbert’s spiny butt”), has great composition and nice, complimentary colors. I like contrast between the fine detail of the fly and the soft background.
Best non-insect arthropod
From Happy Halloween! (October 2008). I didn’t have many non-insect arthropod photos to choose from, but this photo of a female Argiope aurantia (yellow garden spider) would be deserving of recognition no matter how many I had to choose from. I like the bold, contrasting colors and symmetry of the spider in front of the dappled background of this photo.
Best non-arthropod animal
Another one from Rattled in the Black Hills (September 2008). This is admittedly not the best photo from a purely technical perspective – it’s a little out of focus, and the color is a bit off. However, no photo could better convey the moment – confronted with a live, angry prairie rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis) (among the more aggressive species in the genus). The forked tongue and rattle – blurred in motion – were icing on the cake.
Best wildflower
From Glades of Jefferson County (July 2008). I had several wildflower closeups to choose from, but I kept coming back to this field shot of pale purple coneflower (Echincea simulata) and Missouri evening primrose (Oenethera macrocarpa). The eastern redcedars (Juniperus virginiana) in the background are at once indicative of their preferred habitat (limestone/dolomite glades) and also testament to their threatening encroachment.
Best tree
From the very simply and aptly named Lake Tahoe, California (March 2008). Incense cedar (Calocedrus decurrens), with its reddish, deeply furrowed bark and great height, is one of the most majestic of western conifers. I was captivated by this tree – beautiful even in death and contrasting nicely with the surrounding green foliage.
Best rockscape
From Pipestone National Monument (April 2008). “Old Stone Face” is one of Pipestone’s most recognizable geologic features, and the short angle of the sun on this early spring day provided nice detail to the cracks and fissures of the rock – almost appropriately adding a weathered “age” to this old man.
Best landscape
Another one from Lake Tahoe, California (March 2008). Few places on earth are more photogenic than Lake Tahoe, and this perspective overlooking Emerald Bay is among the finest views I’ve seen. Brilliant blue skies and majestic snow covered mountains reflected perfectly from the still surface, with Fannette Island providing a perfect focal point for the photo.
Best miscellaneous
From Ozark Trail, lower Trace Creek Section (December 2007). While technically not a 2008 photo, it’s close enough. This was one of the first macro photographs I took with my camera, and it remains one of my favorites. A chance occurence of an unlikely subject, created by cold temperatures and heavy moisture-laden air. I like the contrast between the water drops – sharp, round, and clear – with the vertical shapes of the leaf petioles and background trees. Viewing the image full-sized reveals the reflection of the photographer in the leftmost water drop.
Subsequent edit: Okay, so after I put this post together, I realized I actually featured eleven photos – too much difficulty choosing, I guess. Let’s call it a baker’s ten.
We stood a moment to contemplate the sublime and beautiful scene before us, which was such an assembly of rocks and water—of hill and valley—of verdant woods and naked peaks—of native fertility and barren magnificence… – Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, 1818-1819
In the Ozark Border south of St. Louis, a series of natural openings punctuate the dry, rocky forests of Jefferson County. Commonly called “glades” or “cedar glades,” these islands of prairie in a sea of forest are home to plants and animals more commonly associated with the Great Plains region further to the west. Extending in a narrow arc from central Jefferson County east and south into northern Ste. Genevieve County, these glades occur most commonly on south and southwest-facing slopes below forested ridges and are characterized by thin soils and exposed dolomite bedrock of Ordovician age. Glades are, in fact, a common natural feature throughout much of the Ozark Highlands, an extraordinary plateau where the great eastern deciduous forest begins to yield to the western grasslands. A much more extensive system of dolomite glades occurs in the White River Hills of southwest Missouri, where they often extend up steep slopes and over the tops of knobs to form what Schoolcraft called “naked peaks” and are now called “balds” (and spawning the “Baldknobbers” of Branson fame). Additional glade complexes occur throughout the Ozark Highlands on different rock substrates – igneous glades abound in the St. Francois Mountains, sandstone glades dot the Lamotte landscape in Ste. Genevieve County and the northern and western Ozarks, limestone glades can be found in the northern Ozarks near Danville and Lake of the Ozarks, and chert glades occur in extreme southwest Missouri. These different glade systems share a common feature – shallow soils where tree establishment is limited due to summer moisture stress. They differ vegetationally, however, due to differences in hydrology and soil chemistry as a result of their different substrates. Floristically, dolomite glades exhibit a high degree of diversity relative to other glade types.
The term “glade” is derived from the Old English “glad,” meaning a shining place – perhaps the early settlers found their open landscapes a welcome respite after emerging from the confining vastness of the eastern deciduous forest. Whatever the meaning, the glades of Jefferson County hold a special place in my heart, for I “grew up,” entomologically speaking, in those glades. As a young entomologist, fresh out of school, I spent many a day scrambling through the glades and surrounding woodlands. It was here where my interest in beetles, especially woodboring beetles, was born and later grew into a passion. For eight years I visited these glades often – attracted by the extraordinary diversity of insects living within the glades and congregating around its edges. My earliest buprestid and cerambycid papers contain numerous records from “Victoria Glades” and “Valley View Glades” – the two best-preserved examples of the glades that once occurred extensively throughout the area (more on this later). My visits to these glades ended in 1990 when I moved to California, and although I moved back to the St. Louis area in 1995, the focus of my beetle research has more often taken me to places outside of Missouri. It had, in fact, been some 10 years since my last visit to these glades until last week, when I was able to once again spend some time in them.
Ozark glades differ from the true cedar glades of the southeastern U.S. in that they are not a climax habitat – they depend upon periodic fires to prevent succession to forest. Some recent authors have suggested the term “xeric dolomite/limestone prairie” be used to distinguish the fire-dependent glades of the Ozarks from the edaphic climax cedar glades of the southeast (Baskin & Baskin 2000, Baskin et al. 2007). Fires have been largely suppressed throughout Missouri since European settlement, leading to encroachment upon the glades by eastern red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana). Pure stands of red-cedar have developed on many former glades, crowding out the herbaceous plants that depend upon full sun and leading to soil formation that supports further encroachment by additional woody plant species such as post oak (Quercus stellata), blackjack oak (Q. marilandica), flowering dogwood (Cornus florida), and fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica) from the surrounding woodlands. Fire has returned to many of the Ozark glades situated on lands owned or managed by state and federal agencies such as the Missouri Department of Conservation, Missouri Department of Natural Resources, and U.S. Forest Service, as well as private conservation-minded organizations such as The Nature Conservancy. These agencies have begun adopting cedar removal and fire management techniques to bring back the pre-settlement look and diversity of the Ozark Glades. This is particularly true at Victoria Glades and Valley View Glades, the two largest and most pristine examples of the Jefferson County dolomite glade complex. Fires have been used to kill small red-cedars in the glades, as well as rejuvenate their herbaceous plant communities. Larger red-cedar trees are not killed outright by fire and must be removed by chainsaws. This above distant view of the TNC parcel at Victoria Glades shows many such burned red-cedars. The glades themselves are not the only habitat to benefit from this aggressive management – when I was doing my fieldwork here in the 1980’s the surrounding woodlands were a closed post oak forest bordered by fragrant sumac and with little or no understory in the interior. The photo at right now shows an open savanna with a rich understory of not only sumac and other shrubs, but also many herbaceous plants as well such as black-eyed susan (Rudbeckia hirta) and American feverfew (Parthenium integrifolium). Such open woodland more closely resembles what Schoolcraft saw across much of the Ozarks during his journey almost two centuries ago.
Victoria and Valley View Glades are dominated by little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) and prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis). A smaller but highly charismatic non-grass flora is also found on the glades – species such as Missouri evening primrose (Oenethera macrocarpa) (left), pale purple coneflower (Echinacea simulata) (pictured above and below), and prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) not only add beautiful color but also support both vertebrate and invertebrate wildlife. The Fremont’s leather flower (Clematis fremontii) is a true endemic, occurring only in this part of Missouri and entirely dependent upon these glades for its survival. Less well studied is the vast insect fauna associated with the glades. It is here where I first discovered the occurrence of Acmaeodera neglecta in Missouri. This small jewel beetle is similar to the broadly occurring A. tubulus but at the time was known only from Texas and surrounding states. In collecting what I thought were adults of A. tubulus on various flowers in the glades, I noticed that some of them were less shining, more strongly punctate, and exhibited elytral patterning that was often coalesced into longitudinal “C-shaped” markings rather than the scattered small spots typical of A. tubulus. These proved to be A. neglecta, which I have since found on many glade habitats throughout the Ozark Highlands. Both species can be seen in this photo feeding on a flower of hairy wild petunia (Ruellia humilis) – the lower individual is A. neglecta, while the upper individual and two inside the flower are A. tubulus. Another interesting insect-plant association I discovered at these glades was the strikingly beautiful Dicerca pugionata – another species of jewel beetle – and its host plant ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). Only a single Missouri occurrence had been reported for D. pugionata, despite the common occurrence of its host plant along rocky streams and rivers throughout the Ozark Highlands. This plant also grows at Victoria and Valley View Glades along the intermittent streams that drain the glades and in the moist toeslopes along the lower edges of the glades where water that has percolated through the rocks and down the slopes is forced to the surface by an impermeable layer of bedrock. Unlike the tall, robust, lush plants that can be found in more optimal streamside habitats with good moisture availability, the ninebark plants of Victoria and Valley View Glades are small and scraggly, usually with some dieback that results from suboptimal growing conditions. I surmise these plants have reduced capabilities for fending off attacks by insects, including D. pugionata, and as a result a healthy population of the insect thrives at these glades. Some might be inclined to call this beetle a pest, threatening the health of one of the glade’s plants. In reality, the insect finds refuge in these glades – unable to effectively colonize the vast reserves of healthy plants that grow along streams throughout the rest of the Ozarks, it strikes a tenuous balance with plants that are themselves on the edge of survival.
Despite the success in moving Victoria and Valley View Glades closer to their pre-settlement character, the integrity of these areas continues to be challenged. Poachers take anything of real or perceived value, and ATV enthusiasts view the open spaces as nothing more than tarmac. Pale purple coneflower occurs abundantly on these Jefferson County glades (but sparingly in other habitats – primarily rocky roadsides), where they provide a stunning floral display during June and sustain innumerable insect pollinators. Plants in the genus Echinacea also have perceived medicinal value, as herbalists believe their roots contain an effective blood purifier and antibiotic. There are no conclusive human clinical trials to date that fully substantiate this purported immune stimulating effect (McKeown 1999). Nevertheless, demand for herbal use has skyrocketed in recent decades, prompting widespread illegal harvesting of several coneflower species throughout their collective range across the Great Plains and Ozark Highlands. I witnessed massive removals of this plant from both Victoria and Valley View Glades during the 1980’s, but the pictures I took this year suggest that such illegal harvests have been suppressed and that the populations at both sites are recovering nicely.
The same cannot be said for the practice of rock flipping. This was a problem I witnessed back in the 1980’s, and I saw fresh evidence of its continued occurrence at both sites. The thin soils and sloping terrain leave successive layers of dolomite bedrock exposed, the edges of which shatter from repeated freeze-thaw cycles to create rows of loose, flat rocks along the bedrock strata. Lizards, snakes, tarantulas, and scorpions find refuge under these loose rocks, only to be ripped from their homes by flippers and transferred to a dark, cold terrarium to endure a slow, lingering death. As if poaching the glade’s fauna and watching them slowly die isn’t bad enough, the flippers add insult to injury by not even bothering to replace the rock in its original position after stealing its inhabitant, amounting to habitat destruction three times greater than the area of the rock itself. Firstly, the habitat under the rock is destroyed by sudden exposure of the diverse and formerly sheltered microfauna to deadly sunlight. Next, the habitat onto which the rock is flipped is also destroyed, as the plants growing there begin a slow, smothering death. Lastly, the upper surface of the rock, sometimes colonized by mosses and lichens that might have required decades or longer to grow, usually ends up against the ground – its white, sterile underside becoming the new upper surface. Rock flipper scars take years to heal, and nearly all of the flat, loose rocks seen in the more accessible areas of the glades exhibit scars of varying ages next to them. If a scar is fresh (first photo), I generally return to the rock to its original position – the former inhabitants cannot be brought back, but at least the original habitats are saved and can recover quickly. However, if a scar is too old (2nd photo) it is best to leave the rock in its new position – replacing it only prolongs the time required for recovery.
Even more damaging is ATV use. Herbaceous plants and thin soils are no match for the aggressive tread of ATV tires, and it doesn’t take too many passes over an area before the delicate plants are killed and loose soils ripped apart. I witnessed this become a big problem particularly on Victoria Glades during the 1980’s – actually finding myself once in a face-to-face confrontation with an ATV’er. Fortunately, he turned tail and ran, and it appears (for now) that such abuses have stopped, as I saw no evidence of more recent tracks during this visit. But the scars of those tracks laid down more than two decades ago still remain painfully visible. I expect several more decades will pass before they are healed completely.
My return to Victoria and Valley View Glades was a homecoming of sorts, and I was genuinely pleased to see the progress that has been made in managing these areas while revisiting the sites where my love affair with beetles was first kindled. Sadly, however, the larger glade complex of Jefferson County continues to deteriorate. Restoration acreage aside, red-cedar encroachment continues unabated on many of the remaining glade parcels – large and small – that dot the south and southwest facing slopes in this area. It has been conservatively estimated that as much as 70% of the original high quality glades in Missouri are now covered in red-cedar. Many of these are privately held – their owners either do not recognize their ecological significance or are loathe to set fire to them. An example can be seen in the picture here – this small parcel is part of the Victoria Glades complex but lies on private land in red-cedar choked contrast to the Nature Conservancy parcel immediately to the south. Small numbers of herbaceous plants persist here, but without intervention by fire or chainsaw their numbers will continue to dwindle and the glade will die. Aside from the loss of these glades, the continuing reduction of glade habitat complicates management options for preserved glades as well. Many glade associated invertebrates are “fire-sensitive” – i.e., they overwinter in the duff and leaf litter above the soil and are thus vulnerable to spring or fall fires. While these fires are profoundly useful for invigorating the herbaceous flora, they can lead to local extirpation of fire-sensitive invertebrate species within the burn area. Recolonization normally occurs quickly from unburned glades in proximity to the burned areas but can be hampered if source habitat exists as small, highly-fragmented remnants separated by extensive tracts of hostile environment. Grazing also continues to threaten existing remnants in the Jefferson County complex. Grazing rates are higher now than ever before, with greater negative impact due to the use of fencing that prevents grazers from moving to “greener pastures”. Over-grazing eliminates native vegetation through constant depletion of nutrient reserves and disturbance of the delicate soil structure, leading to invasion and establishment of undesirable plant species. Eventually, the glade becomes unproductive for pasture and is abandoned – coupled with fire suppression this leads to rapid woody encroachment. It is truly depressing to drive through Jefferson County and recognize these cedar-choked glades for what they were, able to do nothing but watch in dismay as yet another aspect of Missouri’s natural heritage gradually disappears. The continued loss of these remnant glades makes careful use of fire management on Victoria and Valley View Glades all the more critical – ensuring that a patchwork of unburned, lightly burned, and more heavily burned areas exists at a given time will be critical for preventing invertebrate extirpations within these managed areas.
I close by sharing with you a few more of the many photographs I took during this visit – stiff tickseed (Coreopsis palmata), three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis), climbing milkweed (Matelea decipiens – see the excellent post about this plant on Ozark Highlands of Missouri), downy phlox (Phlox pilosa), green milkweed (Asclepias viridiflora), and a “deerly” departed native browser.
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Beetles In The Bush 
