6 Oct 2025—Fall continues to advance in the St. Louis area, and despite very dry conditions during the past two months the fall bloomers continue to make their appearance. One of the area’s most reliable and interesting places to see fall blooms is Victoria Glades south of Hillsboro, where orchids, gentians, and asters anchor a unique suite of fall-blooming plants that are rarely seen elsewhere in our mostly forested environs.
The group chose the Nature Conservancy portion of the complex to explore, as it was in the mesic forest along the riparian corridor below the glade on this side that the first of two orchids—the charmingly diminutive and seldom-seen Spiranthes ovalis (lesser ladies’ tresses)—was expected to be seen in bloom. Despite having recently taken GPS coordinates for the plants, it took several minutes of the group scouring the area around the coordinates before the tiny plants were finally found. Its delicate blooms, fall flowering season, small size, presence of basal and cauline leaves at anthesis, and preference for mesic habitats all serve to identify this species. Missouri’s populations are considered var. erostella, which lack certain essential flowering organs and are, thus, self-pollinated (cleistogamous).
Spiranthes ovalis var. erostellata (lesser ladies’ tresses—family Orchidaceae).
Clambering up and out of the creek bed and onto the open glade, the group found, again with some difficulty, the second orchid we were looking for—Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses). Unlike S. ovalis, however, this species is much more commonly seen on dolomitic glades throughout the state, and there have been fall seasons at Victoria Glades featuring spectacular displays of it. Sadly, it does not appear that this will be one of those falls, almost surely because of the near absence of rain in recent months. The first two plants were found under and next to a cut eastern red-cedar, whose cadaver perhaps provided just enough protection to prevent a complete drying of the soil underneath and allowed the two plants to proceed to flowering. Of the nine species of Spiranthes presently known to occur in Missouri, S. magnicamporum is among the showiest due to its robust, often doubly helical inflorescences and relatively large flowers with spreading and arching lateral sepals. It is also among the most fragrant, with a sweetish fragrance of coumarin, which some people liken to vanilla.
I’ve been visiting Victoria Glades for more than 40 years, yet I continue to see things I haven’t previously notified. This time it was Trichostema coeruleum (pennyroyal bluecurls), a member of the mint family (Lamiaceae). [Note: Trichostema coeruleum was known until recently as Trichostema brachiatum—now a synonym of Trichostema dichotomum.] Unlike Trichostema dichotomum (bluecurls), which prefers glades and other dry habitats with acidic substrates (e.g., sandstone), T. coeruleum prefers such habitats with calcareous substrates (e.g., dolomite). A third species of the genus, Trichostema setaceum (narrow-leaf bluecurls), also occurs in Missouri but is restricted to sand prairies in extreme southeastern Missouri.
Dolomite glades are also the preferred habitat for many species of plants in the family Orobanchaceae, a bizarre family of mostly hemiparasitic plants that derive at least some of their nutrition not from the sun, but by tapping into the roots of nearby plants. Castilleja coccinea (scarlet paintbrush) is perhaps the best known of these, in most years joining the cacophony of wildflowers that form colorful displays across Victoria Glades during spring and early summer. There are, however, several less conspicuous but equally beautiful wildflowers in the family that are restricted in the area almost exclusively to the dolomite glades of Jefferson Co. One of these is Agalinis skinneriana (Skinner’s or pale gerardia/false foxglove), which the group found sporadically still in bloom across the open glade. There are several species of Agalinis in Missouri, some of which are quite common. However, A. skinneriana can usually be recognized by the characteristic habitat and generally upward-facing flowers with spreading to reflexed upper corolla lobes. The plants are also relatively slender and fewer-branched than the more common A. tenuifolia (common gerardia/false foxglove) and A. gattingeri (rough-stemmed gerardia/false foxglove).
Agalinis skinneriana (Skinner’s or pale gerardia/false foxglove—family Orobanchaceae).
Another plant in the family Orobanchaceae that the group saw was Buchnera americana (American bluehearts), represented by a single plant still bearing two worn blossoms. Normally blooming from June through September, plants in full bloom have no look-alikes and are not likely to be confused with anything else. Despite this, the vervain-like fruit-bearing structure of this late straggler fooled the group into at first thinking it was a species of Verbena until its true identity was realized.
Buchnera americana (American bluehearts—family Orobanchaceae).
No group of plants more iconically represents fall than goldenrods (genus Solidago) and true asters (genus Symphyotrichum), and no place allows as many uncommonly seen species to be seen together as the dolomite glades. Three species of goldenrods were seen during the day—the super common Solidago nemoralis (old field goldenrod), the less common but more showy Solidago rigida (stiff goldenrod), and the highly restricted Solidago gattingeri (Gattinger’s goldenrod) (we were not able to locate a fourth species—Solidago radula [rough goldenrod], which we have observed during previous visits on the MDC portion of Victoria Glades). It was the true asters, however, that truly tested our plant identification abilities. Relatively easier are the purple asters, of which we found three species. The first and most abundant was Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster), recognized by its recurved phyllaries and branched habit with narrow, linear leaves that become more numerous and smaller in the upper plant. If one is still in doubt as to its identity, however, one needs only to crush the leaves between the fingers and enjoy its distinct aroma.
Along the intermittent creek and near the interface with the dry post oak woodland on the north of the glade, we encountered a second species—Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (azure aster). Identification of this species came only near the end of the outing, as a key identifying characteristic of this species—the presence of distinctly petiolate cordate basal leaves that are rough to the touch—was not seen on any of the plants examined before then. At that point, we suspected Symphyotrichum turbinellum (prairie aster) due to the vase-shaped involucres. While that species has been found at Victoria Glades, it is usually a much more highly branched plant associated with more wooded habitats (despite the common name). Finally, we found a plant with such leaves present, albeit dried up, and then another with the leaves present and still fresh to confirm the identification.
Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (sky blue aster—family Asteraceae).
In a small area at the northernmost point of the glade, we found Symphyotrichum sericeum (silky aster). This species is immediately recognizable from afar by the silvery cast to the foliage—this, combined with its highly preferred habitat of glades or dry prairies are usually enough to identify the species, although it is said that the flowers are often more purple and less bluish than other “purple asters.”
As we walked the margins of the glade, the group kept their collective eyes out for Gentiana puberulenta (downy gentian), a striking and rarely seen fall flowering species that has been found on several occasions at Victoria Glades. The species has been seen at Victoria Glades on a few occasions in past years, and the locations of these sightings were scoured thoroughly but without success. Unexpectedly, near the end of the outing, a single plant in flower was located—its perfectly fresh blossom initially hidden from view underneath fallen leaves. One of three members of the genus Gentiana in Missouri, this species is easily differentiated by having the corolla spread open at maturity. Missouriplants.com notes “The rich, deep blue color of the corollas is a striking and uncommon hue among our flora.” A strikingly beautiful final find of the day indeed, and a perfect note on which to gather for lunch at historic Russell House in nearby Hillsboro.
For me, no botany outing is strictly about plants (just as no entomology outing is strictly about insects), so there were a few interesting insect observations on the day. On our way to look for Spiranthes ovalis (lesser ladies’ tresses), June noticed a caterpillar on the Ulmus rubra (slippery elm) that we decided must represent Halysidotus tessellaris banded tussock moth).
Later, after lunch with the group, I returned with the goal of more closely inspecting Physocarpus intermedius (Midwest ninebark) along the glade toeslopes and intermittent creek to see if Dicerca pugionata was out. It has been many years since I’ve seen this species in the fall (but it has also been many years since I’ve really tried to look for it during the fall). I started first with the plants along the moist toeslopes along the west side of the glade, checking several of the now very scraggly-looking plants without success. Along the way, I encountered an especially beautiful Spiranthes magnicamporum, so I paused to take photos. While doing so, I noticed a cryptically-colored crab spider on its blossoms—Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider)—the first time I’ve ever seen a spider hunting on the flowers of an orchid.
Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider—family Thomisidae) on flowers of Spiranthes magnicamporum (Great Plains ladies’ tresses).
Towards the end of the toeslopes, finally, two D. pugionata plopped onto my sheet. The plant they were on was near the far end of the toeslopes, and if I hadn’t seen any beetles by the time I reached the far end I would have given up the search. Finding them, however, motivated me to hike over to and continue looking along the intermittent creek, where I saw three more beetles in three different spots, the last one—satisfyingly—on the very last plant I checked before the creek disappears into denser woodland.
Dicerca pugionata (ninebark borer—family Buprestidae) beaten from living Physocarpus intermedius (Midwest ninebark).
Mission accomplished, I enjoyed one more leisurely stroll across the glade before calling it another (successful) day in the field.
This—the 18th “Collecting Trip iReport”—covers the second of two insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring from June 4–13, during which I placed “bottle traps” and “jug traps” at several locations, and this one from September 3–14 to retrieve the traps and take advantage of any late-season collecting opportunities. I was fortunate on this trip to have longtime collecting buddy and melittologist Mike Arduser joining me, during which we visited the same 15 localities that I visited on my precious trip back in June (one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada) plus two additional localities (one each in northwestern Oklahoma and northeastern New Mexico).
I’m on my way out west with fellow collector Mike—today being only a travel day but with a quick stop in Texas Co., Oklahoma to retrieve bottle traps set back in June and then a night of camping at Black Mesa State Park before continuing the drive west tomorrow. After 7 hours, we needed to stretch our legs and stopped at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge’s Sandpiper Trail—a spot we both have visited several times and know well. Recent rains had the alkaline flats filled with more water than I’ve seen during any previous visit, …
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge, Alfalfa Co., Oklahoma.
… and only a few Ellipsoptera nevadica knausi (Knaus’ tiger beetle) and Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) were seen on the drier margins of the alkaline flats. Several Epicauta conferta (red-cornered blister beetle) were seen lumbering across the path, and a Diogmites angustipennis (prairie robber fly) posed nicely on the trail for pictures as well.
Showy Eustoma russellianum (prairie gentian)—a plant I’ve never seen before—were blooming spectacularly and prolifically in the vegetated areas bordering the alkaline flats.
It was a quick but interesting stop that rejuvenated the legs before we continued our journey westward.
The first “real” stop of the trip was ~5 miles north of Goodwell in Texas Co., Oklahoma where I placed three white bottle traps in early June hoping to capture the very rare Acmaeodera robigo, which had been photographed here on flowers of Melampodium leucanthemum (blackfoot daisy) and the photos posted on BugGuide. I was never able to contact the photographer, but since bottle traps are so effective at sampling species of Acmaeodera I reasoned placing three traps here (one at the precise spot and two more several hundred yards to the north and to the south) would give me the best chance of collecting it. It had already been dark for an hour before we reached the spot, but despite the darkness and late hour I had no trouble finding each of three traps. I was happy to see all three traps still in place, undisturbed, and filled to the brim with insects. I tried to pick out the larger insects (mostly crickets and grasshoppers) and stir through the remaining contents of each trap a bit to see if I could detect any Acmaeodera, but the majority of insects appeared to be small blister beetles, followed by bees. The darkness made further sorting impossible, so I bagged the contents of each trap and saved for later sorting. [Edit: later sorting found only a couple of Acmaeodera mixta? in just one of the traps and no A. robigo.]
We arrived at our first overnight spot—Black Mesa State Park—quite late (~11:30 pm) and quickly setup camp before retiring for the evening. In the middle of the night I got up, came out of the tent, and was greeted by an incredible amazing starscape that is normally only seen during winter. Taurus was already high in the sky, and Orion was well above the horizon with a brightly shining Jupiter not too far to its left.
Night sky at Black Mesa State Park. Orion has risen, with Taurus above and Jupiter just rising in the lower left.
Day 2
In the morning, a canyon towhee (Melozone fusca) kept us company as we prepared breakfast and then broke camp for another mostly travel day
Canyon towhee (Melozone fusca).
Our destination this evening is Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, to which we will travel by way of northeastern New Mexico and then southwestern Colorado.
Abandoned homestead outside of Clayton, New Mexico.
Shortly after crossing into Colorado we made a pit stop for ice and I began searching the pavement around the gas station looking for beetles that may have come into the previous night’s lights. I didn’t find any cerambycids but I did find a small tenebrionid beetle that didn’t look like familiar to me.
Crossing the Sangre de Cristo and then the San Juan ranges were as spectacular a mountain crossings as any that Colorado has to offer, and a coffee stop in Pagosa Springs (at Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie) provided not only good coffee and pastries to fuel me for the rest of the drive to Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, but interesting and creatively framed art work to treat the eyes while waiting for our orders.
“Art wall” in Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Butterflies”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Gentleman Frog”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Cow”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
Weather during the drive had been good all day, but on the final approach to Devils Canyon Campground the skies began looking worryingly threatening. The last time I came here (early June) I had intended to camp here but got rained out and took a motel in town. I did not want a repeat of that, so we kept our fingers crossed and made the final drive to the campground. Although still threatening, it was not actually raining when we arrived (unlike last time), so we took our chances and set up camp. No sooner than that did the rain start! Fortunately, the tent was already up, so it just meant that instead of cooking dinner at the site, we would instead go to town and have dinner (Dave’s BBQ). When we got back to camp, the rain had stopped (although we could tell that it had rained hard), so I decided to walk the roads looking for night-active beetles. I knew this was probably a fruitless exercise—by then the post-rain temps at this 7000’ site were already down to the mid-50s, but it would give me a chance to stretch my legs after two straight days of driving, and I could also take that opportunity to retrieve the bottle and jug traps that I had set back in June. The bottle trap was disappointing, especially after seeing the ones I’d set near Goodwell, Oklahoma filled to the brim with insects—just a handful of bees (for Mike) and no beetles of any kind. This was surprising given the many Acmaeodera I have collected in alpine habitats just like this (Ponderosa pine and Gambel oak). The SRW-baited jug trap, on the other hand, was nicely (if not overwhelmingly) productive (Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., small elaphidiines, small acanthocine with very long antennae, Xestoleptura?)—enough to make it worth the effort. I was also pleased to see that the jug trap was in still place and intact with the catch in good shape despite three months in the field. The bait bottle was still about half full of red wine, but since the propylene glycol had dried the trap was no longer trapping insects. As I’d expected, no night-active insects were seen in the way to the traps or on the way back.
Day 3
It was a chilly morning, and though it had not rained since our arrival last night the skies remained overcast. The day’s plan was to continue west to the Ponderosa Grove Campground in southwestern Utah (north of Kanab), but with only five hours of driving required to get there we would have time to make a few stops along the way. Before leaving I started checking the Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), several of which had begun blooming in the campground, and found a few Crossidius coralinus and Acmaeodera amabilis on the flowers. I was tempted to suggest staying put—at least for a short time—and exploring the area a little more fully, but my real objectives were further west and I elected to stick with the plan.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Acmaeodera amabilis (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
One of the stops I’d made along this way last June was 4 miles east of Bluff in San Juan Co., Utah, where the famous Mont Cazier had collected what would later be described as Agrilus utahensis. I did not find it in June (nor did I fully expect to, since the record was from late July), and I was equally skeptical about my chances this time given how much later it was in the season. On the way here, we got caught behind an oversized load on the highway that was so big it required three highway patrol chaperone vehicles to clear the road ahead. Going at about half the speed limit, I worried we might have to follow it the entire way to our turnoff, which would nearly double our travel time to the first spot. Fortunately, the caravan pulled over at one point to let the long train of trsffic that had accumulated behind it pass, and we were on our way (the convoy would later pass us at the very spot where we had stopped to collect).
Oversized convoy!
The location was disappointing dry and crispy, although Gutierrezia sarothroides (broom snakeweed) was coming into bloom. Sweeping it eventually produced about a dozen Crossidius pulchellus and two other beetles (a clytrine leaf beetle and a weevil), and Mike collected a handsome series and diversity of bees off of flowering Eriogonum sp. (buckwheat).
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Our drive afterwards through southeastern Utah and northeastern Arizona took us through some of the most amazing scenery that the American West has to offer—red sand/siltstones sculpted through the eons by wind and rain have created a landscape that can only be described as “planetary.”
Monument Valley, southeastern Utah.
Eventually, the dramatic landscape gave way to a more monotonous series of desert plateaus periodically interrupted by dramatic descents and canyons as we got deeper into north-central Arizona. Though pleasing to the eye, there were few signs of greenery of flowers to tempt the passing entomologist except occasional stands of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) beginning to bloom in higher elevation spots. We kept our nose to the grindstone, hoping to see better things once we passed through Page and crossed back into south-central Utah, but the landscape became even crispier, with a stop about 20 miles northwest of Page to look for Nanularia brunnea on Eriogonum inflatum (which I had found two years ago in late June) being a total bust. We expected/hoped that the higher elevations around Ponderosa Grove Campground (~6000’) would provide better collecting and continued there without haste. Our expectations/hopes proved well-founded, as blooming rabbitbrush was seen with greater frequency as we traveled north of Kanab and even more so along Hancock Rd approaching the campground. We took a few moments to scout out a good campsite and setup camp before spending the rest of the available daylight hours exploring. For me the rabbitbrush was most tempting, and scouting plants in the campground and the vicinity east produced small but nice series of Crossidius coralinus and Typocerus balteatus. As I was doing so, a sinking sun and virga to the east produced an impressive rainbow that became irresistible for photography—not only as a subject itself but as a backdrop for the beetles I was finding.
Rainbow at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Typocerus balteatus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
After some downtime back at camp (and grilled sirloin steaks for dinner), I did my customary nighttime patrol to check for night-active insects. This campground was especially productive when I did this back in June and found several Zopherus utahensis and other tenebrionids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pines that are the namesake of this campground.
A near-full moon rises over our campsite at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
This time was no different—while I found only a single Z. utahensis, I did also find a few specimens of Coelocnemis sulcata, including a mating pair, on the trunks of the trees …
Coelocnemis sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) mating pair on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
… and a single Embaphion sp. on the ground at the base of another. There are several massively-trunked Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) in the campground as well, on which another C. sulcata was found. Despite this success and the relatively early hour, I was exhausted and called it quits for the night and retire. We will spend the entirety of the day here tomorrow, so I’ll have another chance to check the tree trunks again tomorrow night.
Day 4
After a relaxing morning at the campsite (during which time I caught up on my field notes while enjoying double-pour-through coffee), I walked over to the sand dune-adjacent woodlands to retrieve the traps that I’d set there back in June and brought them back to the campsite for sorting. I was happy to see Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) and many other plants in bloom and looked forward to checking them more closely after servicing the trap catches.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) blooming in sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
The yellow bottle trap had ~15-20 beetles, including several Acmaeodera spp., a lepturine cerambycid, and a tiny Dichelonyx-like scarab (a relief after getting skunked with the bottle trap I’d set in Devils Canyon). There were also a fair number of bees in the trap, which I gave to Mike. The SRW-baited jug trap also did well, containing Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., several Psyrassa sp., and another colorful little lepturine along with several Euphoria inda, several small clerids, a mantispid, and numerous small beetles I take to be oedemerids. After processing the trap catch, I went back over to the woodlands and dunes, spending more than three hours collecting off the flowers of E. nauseosa and other flowers.
Typocerus balteatus was found not uncommonly on the flowers in most of the areas that I covered, while Crossidius coralinus and C. suturalis were found a bit more sparingly.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Crossidius suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
I also found Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of Grindelia squarrosa (curlycup gumweed), Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), and E. nauseosa, but they were limited to the woodlands and not seen in the dunes.
Acmaeodera rubronotata (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster).
I also found several individuals of an interesting little weevil on the rabbitbrush flowers, its gray/black longitudinally striped body making a good subject for photography (for which I also brought back a live A. rubronotata and a mating pair of ambush bugs), and spent a bit of time photographing some of the other blooming plants in the area.
By the time I feel like I’d gotten a good enough look at the area, nearly four hours had gone by and I was famished. Sardines and Triscuits did the trick, after which we did a quick ice run into town and back—the highlights being an authentic Sinclair dinosaur (he’s smiling!) and an real (though non-functioning) pay phone.
The famous “Sinclair dinosaur.”
He’s smiling!
An authentic (though non-functional) pay phone.
Returning to the campground, I walked with Mike back into the dunes to retrieve his bowl traps. I had hoped that some of them would pick up Acmaeodera (as is often the case with bowl traps and why I have started utilizing them on my own collecting trips), but the only species that would be out in this area at this time of season would be A. rubronotata, which I had already collected earlier in the day (there were none).
Mike services a “bowl trap.”
After a period relaxing (with a cold beer and burgers hot off the grill), I began my customary night walk. I have yet to find a cerambycid on tree trunks at night here, but still I enjoy night walks here as much as anywhere due to the consistent presence of ironclad beetles and other tenebrionoids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pine trees that give the campground its name.
Another near-full moon rises over the campsite.
Tonight would be no different—I found Zopherus uteanus on just the second tree that I examined (right in our campsite), and I would also find two species of tenebrionids in the vicinity on the trunks of ponderosas (Coelocnemis sulcata and Eleodes obscura sulcipennis) and a third species (ID unknown) on the ground at the base of one of them.
Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Coelocnemus sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
At that point, I decided to go outside of the loop towards a couple of large P. ponderosa at the entrance, and on the way I found another E. obscura sulcipennis on the trunk of a massively old Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper). There was nothing on the P. ponderosa trees that I had targeted, but nearby was another large one, and high up on the trunk (as far as my fully extended net could reach) was another Z. uteanus, and several C. sulcata—including a mating pair—were found on the ground at its base.
At that point I decided to limit my tenebrionoid collecting to only Zopherus unless I saw species that I hadn’t seen before, so I passed by some additional tenebrionids of the same species as the previous on a large P. ponderosa in the RV loop, then saw a large, multi-branched Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) that I thought might be interesting to check. I did not find any beetles on it, but I did locate at eye level—with considerable difficulty!—a male Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket). I was not only able to take a photograph of it with its wings fanned but also record an audio track up close (posted on iNaturalist).
Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket—family Oecanthidae) male singing on trunk of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) at night (song).
Returning to the tent loop, I checked all of the large P. ponderosa trees and junipers that had—during the past visit and last night—been so productive, but the only beetles I found was a very small tenebrionid that, fortunately, was yet another species I had not previously seen here (ID unknown). After two hours of searching tree trunks, I called an end to the night, which also meant a close to the collecting at this spot—tomorrow we will drive to Kyle Canyon in southern Nevada!
Day 5
Our exit from Ponderosa Grove took us through more of the spectacular canyonland that southern Utah is famous for and past the incredible Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park (so spectacular it is that I think it could—despite its small size—be a national park). A dramatic descent down into the Virgin River valley and the town of Hurricane was only the first such descent—the second one being even more dramatic as I-15 dropped off the edge of the Colorado Plateau along the Virgin River Gorge. The remainder of the drive to Kyle Canyon northwest of Las Vegas was mindnumbing in its contrast—an endless stretch of interstate highway through a vast expanse of low, hot, featureless desert punctuated at regular intervals by palm tree dotted oases, each with a gaudy, glittering casino at its center. Driving up Kyle Canyon Rd put an end to this, however, as each thousand foot gain in elevation brought with it an increasingly interesting landscape. At about 4500’ elevation, I had set a couple of bottle traps—one yellow, one blue—hoping to catch the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (whose namesake—Mike Raschko—I had happened to meet at Ponderosa Grove Campground last June a few days before I set the traps!). Mike R. had also placed a bottle trap (white) at the site and was kind enough to reset it for me so I would have three colors sampling the area. Both of my traps were still in place, intact, and filled with numerous Acmaeodera that I take to be A. quadrivittata (along with many bees for Mike A.) and the yellow also containing a larger species that I didn’t immediately recognize (not unusual since I have never collected this area). Unfortunately, I did not see any specimens that appeared to be A. raschkoi, and even more unfortunately the white bottle trap had been pulled from the ground (although I was able to recover a few A. quadrivittata that were still inside the trap). Not much else was going on at the site—only a few things in sparse bloom but no beetles visiting the flowers, nor was there any rabbitbrush around on which to look for Crossidius.
We got a scare when we arrived at the campground and saw a sign at the entrance saying “Campground Full.” This was bad—if this campground was full, then surely the much more heavily used one down below was also full, and I didn’t look forward to spending the rest of the afternoon scrambling for a campsite somewhere in the Spring Mountains. We drove through the campground anyway, and, in fact, there were many campsites available! Looks like somebody forgot to do their job!
“Campground Full” sign at a not-full Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
Crisis averted, we selected a nice spot overlooking the desert below and set up camp. Cool evening temps come early at this high elevation (~8300’), so with the remaining afternoon hours I retrieved and sorted my SRW-baited jug trap, finding several Tragosoma sp. but, curiously, not a single other longhorned beetle (or any beetle for that matter). Searching around the area afterwards, I extracted a dead Dicerca tenebrosa partial carcass in its emergence hole in a stump of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine), then went back down to the area I had collected last time, focusing especially on the two large half-dead Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) trees on which I had seen damage from the rarely collected Semanotus juniperi (on one of which I collected three adults later that night). There was nothing on the first (the one on which I found the beetles), but at the second one I saw a large wind-thrown branch that I had not noticed last time. It exhibited S. juniperi damage and emergence holes on the lower part, and chopping into it I quickly recovered a dead but intact carcass of yet another S. juniperi adult. Further chopping turned up nothing, and I was about to walk away when I thought maybe I should cut into the upper part of the branch as well to look for evidence smaller woodboring species. Doing so, I quickly encountered a Chrysobothris sp. larva, and with that I decided to bring the entire upper part of the branch back for rearing. There wasn’t much else going on—few plants were in flower and nothing was seen on the trunks of trees or various pieces of downed wood that were laying about, so I went back to camp.
Alpine pinyon/juniper woodland at Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
An elevation of 8300’ affords spectacular views into the desert below.
Later in the evening, we watched a spectacular moonrise, then enjoyed “surf ‘n’ turf” (grilled sirloin steak and salmon) before I started up my customary night walk to check tree trunks for night-active beetles.
Angel Peak Radar Station at sunset.
“Corn Moon” rising.
Peeking through the trees.
Last time here when I did this, I found not only S. juniperi but also a few Zopherus uteanus, so I was hopeful for my chance tonight despite the lateness of the season. It started out well—on the first P. monophylla tree that I checked (right at our campsite), I found Oeme costata and a weevil.
Oeme costata (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of P. monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Those would be the last live beetles I would see (other than an occasional tenebrionid beetle, none of which I collected). However, I would still find success—back at the J. osteosperma on which I had found three S. juniperi back in June, I found three more. They were not alive, however, but dead carcasses at the base of the tree—two nearly completely intact and the other partially so.
Western deer mouse (Peromyscus sonoriensis) at night.
Day 6
We had planned to visit few localities at middle and lower elevations but stopped to check out the profusely-blooming Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) right outside the campground entrance for bees and beetles. Curiously, hardly anything was seen on the flowers despite the by then late-morning hour, sunny skies, and temps above 70°F. It seemed odd to me that there were no Crossidius beetles on the blooms, and the thought occurred to me that maybe the occurrence of E. nauseosa in the area itself could be a relatively recent phenomenon since it is only seen—albeit profusely—along the roads and highways in the area but nowhere further within the native habitats. With nothing going on, we pushed down to the lowest elevation point that caught our eye on the way in yesterday—the Step Ladder Trailhead at ~6700’.
Again, E. nauseosa was blooming profusely around the parking lot, but a quick perusal made it clear the situation would be similar here as well. Mike, on the other hand, was having good success collecting bees off of E. nauseosa and especially Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), so I was content to stay and refocus by searching for infested wood. I noticed a lot of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) and quickly found one with a dead but still attached, fully-barked branch. I broke the branch off the tree, and there in the broken butt of the branch was a large chrysobothroid larvae! This quickly prompted a decision to collect the infested branch and put it up for rearing. A second larvae was found in a small dead (but still fully-barked) tree nearby, which was added to the bundle. While this was going on, Mike found what seemed to be Agrilus blandus? in his net while sweeping bees from the flowers of G. sarothrae. I recall collecting this species in southern California in flowers of Eriogonum (wild buckwheat), so finding it on other flowers—particularly if Eriogonum is in the area (but not seen because it was not blooming) did not seem out of the question. My much more thorough sweeping of the plants around the area where he found it, however, produced no additional specimens. I was also interrupted in my sweeping attempts by a couple of curious bystanders—one a woman from Ukraine who wondered what the plant was that I was sweeping (I told her “broom snakeweed”) and what it was good for (“brooms” I wryly replied and then quickly clarified its role in the ecosystem), and then offered me a beetle collecting tip by telling me about large beetles they call “bombers” and that bite people sitting in spas in Southern California (I presume these are diving beetles in the family Dytiscidae); and the other a young man who was pleased to hear I was from St. Louis because he used to live there when he was married to his ex-wife. This all happened while I was in the middle of my sweeps, so I held the net bag firmly to keep insects from escaping my net until I could resume my sweeping. Eventually, I gave up the ghost and resumed my search for dead, infested wood, eventually finding a Cercocarpus ledifolius (curl-leaf mountain mahogany) tree with one recently-dead and one older dead branch, the former buprestid-infested (verified by cutting into the wood and finding young buprestid larvae) and which I collected for rearing.
View of Fletcher Peak from Step Ladder Trailhead.
After lunch back at the campground and some time spent processing specimens (as well as enjoying the antics of our resident golden-mantled ground squirrel [Callospermophilus lateralis certus]), …
Mount Charleston golden-mantled ground squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis certus).
… I wanted to check out the nearby Deer Creek Picnic Area where I’d seen a lot of iNaturalist observations (suggesting it might be an interesting place). At first all I saw was the massive parking lot below an equally massive road-cut slope—the only thing that looked like a trail was a steep drop down to the creek below. I checked it out, only to find it dead-ending at the creek and clambered back up.
A massive Ponderosa pine looms above.
Then I saw a gravel trail behind the guardrail on the opposite side of the highway and found it leading to a paved path up the creek. Much of the trail was covered with a deep layer of gravel from flooding (and indeed some of the picnic tables were also nearly completely buried). I hiked the trail as it ascended alongside the creek under massive ponderosa pines until it dead-ended at a gravel road and turned around. The only plants in flower was Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), and it was only near the highway, and while I saw no insects that I wished to collect, I did see a large Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly) that frustrated my attempts to photograph it until I finally “pre-set” the focus, exposure, and zoom and quickly fired off a few shots at the distance I’d set it for as soon as the fly landed. The virtual lack of insect activity here confirmed what we’ve been seeing in the area as a whole, so I’ll be anxious to leave tomorrow and head for (hopefully) greener pastures at Leeds Canyon back in southwest Utah.
Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly—family Tachinidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Day 7
The drive from Kyle Canyon to Leeds Canyon was essentially a straight shot on I-15—normally a recipe for extreme boredom; however, coming back up through the Virgin River Gorge was a different, even more awe inspiring experience than the descent two days earlier. Ascending such a steep narrow canyon has the breathtakingly tall canyon bluffs looming high overhead, dwarfing the traffic, even the largest semi tractor trailers, snaking up below, whereas descending into a seemingly bottomless chasm feels a little more “dangerous.” We arrived at Leeds Canyon relatively early thanks to the “only” 3-hours drive. The area looked very dry, but a variety of blooming plants kept us optimistic as we made our way up the canyon road towards Oak Grove Campground at the top.
Leeds Canyon in southwestern Utah.
Sadly, optimism turned to dismay in an instant when we encountered a “Road Closed” sign about halfway up—a result of the ongoing fire risk that has bplagued the area this season. We checked to see if the campground on the other side of the mountain range was available, only to learn that it was closed due to fire damage. At that point, our decision was made for us—we would need to continue another two hours to the Kaibab Plateau where I had my last sets of traps to retrieve and where we could camp at Jacob Lake. While we were here, however, we took the opportunity to stop at a spot along Leeds Creek and see what we could find.
Oak Grove Rd crosses Leeds Creek in the lower part of Leeds Canyon.
Several different plants were in bloom, on which I’d hoped to find either Acmaeodera or longhorned beetles, the first that I looked at being Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), but I only saw small dasytines (a few of which I collected). Nothing was seen on Solidago velutinus (velvety goldenrod) or Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberry leaf globemallow) flowers, but then Mike came up with a Crossidius discoideus on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Careful searching of the plants in the surrounding area atop a small hill turned up an additional half-dozen individuals, but none were seen on any of the plants further up or down along the road. By this time, we’d spent about an hour and decided to finish the additional 2-hours drive needed to get to Jacob Lake.
Megaphorus sp. (family Asilidae).
Historic home in nearby Harrisburg, Utah.
Some of the western U.S.’s worst fires this season occurred on Arizona’s Kaibab Plateau. The Dragon Bravo Fire destroyed over 100 structures on the Grand Canyon’s North Rim—including the historic Grand Canyon Lodge and the North Rim Visitor Center, while the White Sage Fire simultaneously burned significant areas of Kaibab National Forest north and east of Jacob Lake. It was the latter that, unfortunately, swept across both of the sites where I had placed traps a month earlier in June, so I was not optimistic about the likelihood that they had survived. Fortunately, the fires did not reach the immediate vicinity of Jacob Lake, so the campground was unaffected and—unusual in my experience—nearly devoid of people. After setting up camp, I went back north into the burn zone to see if my traps 1) had survived and 2) could be retrieved. The area around the site was almost completely destroyed, with charred black skeletons of trees dotting blackened soils devoid of any vegetation.
Aftermath of the White Sage Fire in the Kaibab National Forest.
I had low expectations for the traps at this site even before the fires, as the area had already burned several years early and was in the early stages of recovery (I had decided to place traps here anyway because I wanted to see what the woodboring beetle fauna in a recovering area might look like).
Blackened trunks punctuate a stark landscape.
I continued walking the 2-track toward the trap location surveying the damage, came around a bend, and saw it—a lone, still-green pinyon pine with my jug trap hanging from a branch and a bottle trap, its yellow funnel only slightly heat deformed, still planted in the soil beneath the tree!
A lone green tree amongst the destruction—with my traps in the tree and below it both intact!
At first I was elated, but then I saw the jug trap reservoir was dry and almost completely empty save for a few dried beetle carcasses—the trap had survived the fires, but the associated winds had blown the trap and dumped the contents (none of which could be detected on the ground beneath). The bottle trap, on the other had, looked to be full of insects with plenty of liquid still in the reservoir, so I was hopeful that I would retrieve some good specimens from it. This proved to be the case (sort of!) as I pulled a few Anthaxia sp., a meloid, and lots of bees (for Mike) from the trap. The dried carcasses in the SRW-baited jug trap turned out to be an elaphidiine & several silphids.
After leaving the first trap site and driving towards the second (a few miles east of Jacob Lake), I saw little to no fire impacts as I continued east of Jacob Lake. However, as I got closer to the site I began to see impacts—first along the ridge above, then down the slope and engulfing the area where I had placed my traps. Fortunately, the fire did not seem to have been as severe in the immediate area, so I remained hopeful.
Intact jug trap in burned woodland east of Jacob Lake, Arizona.
The bottle trap was found first and was in much the same condition as the bottle trap at the previous location—it’s blue funnel slightly heat-deformed, but the reservoir was filled with liquid and insects. Later sorting yielded an Acmaeodera diffusa?, a Melanophila sp., a couple of Anthaxia sp., a clerid, and lots of bees (for Mike). The Melanophila sp. was especially welcome—known collectively as “fire beetles” for their attraction to active fires, its presence in the trap may have been been a direct result of the fire. The SRW-baited jug trap was quickly found next, and much to my relief the trap was not only intact and undamaged but also filled with insects (in fact, the propylene glycol had not even completely dried). Later sorting would yield only a single longhorned beetle (plus a silphid and a Euphoria inda), but that longhorned beetle would prove to be the catch of the trip—Calloides nobilis mormonus! I have reared a single individual of the nominate subspecies from fire-damaged oak collected in Missouri, so I suspect the presence of this beetle is also a direct result of the fires that swept through the area—a satisfying irony.
Calloides nobilis mormonus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to sweet red wine-baited jug trap.
Back at camp and after another “surf & turf” dinner of sirloin steak and salmon, I did my customary nighttime walk to look for night-active beetles on the ground and in tree trunks. I had good luck with this here back in June, finding a Zopherus uteanus and several other beetles, but tonight’s catch consisted of just a single Temnochila sp. (family Trogosittidae) and a single weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) crawling on the large trunks of Pinus ponderosa.
Unidentified weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 8
I’d seen a fair amount of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) in bloom at the second site the previous day when I retrieved my traps but didn’t see any insects (or, at least, beetles or bees) on them. I figured this was due to the early evening hour, so we decided to come back during the day to try again. The E. nauseosa flowers were still, puzzlingly, devoid of insects (save for honey bees and enormous numbers of a large, black, bristly tachinine fly—possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta).
Tachinine fly (possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta—family Tachindae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Like at Kyle Canyon, the absence of Crossidius spp. on E. nauseosa flowers was surprising, as I have seen them on this plant at almost every other location I have ever checked. You can’t make things appear no matter how hard you look, however, so we continued into some openings farther up the slop and encountered a few other plants in bloom. One was Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), on the flowers of which I found a few small beetles of an unknown family. Nearby I saw several dead main branches in a clump of Quercus gambelli (Gambel oak)—cutting into them revealed a very small woodboring beetle larvae, so I collected several of the stems for rearing. Coming back down the slope I found a single cryptocephaline on the flower of Eriogonum racemosa (redroot buckwheat) and a single Acmaeidera rubronotata on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed)—the latter on which Mike had also found a single Crossidius discoideus. (This seems to be the first record of any species of Crossidius from the Kaibab Plateau! Maybe the other species are here as well but are not quite out yet at this relatively early date in fall.)
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) collected on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
We were getting ready to leave when I spotted a large, fallen Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) with the twigs brown but still attached (indicating it might be the right “amount” of dead to host woodboring beetles. Damage by such could be seen on the smaller branches, and cutting into them confirmed the presence of larvae and led to a second wood-cutting/bundling session to bring the beetle-infested twigs and branches back for rearing.
Chasing more floriferous pastures, we went back up to higher elevations and stopped at a spot close to the campground where we 1) saw a great diversity of plants in bloom and 2) could safely pull off the highway. A huge diversity of blooming plants were seen (from which Mike collected ~20 species of bees), but the only beetles of interest that I saw and collected were numerous small black/red cryptocephalines on the flowers of Eriogonum racemosum (redroot buckwheat). After Mike was satisfied he’d sufficiently sampled the diversity of bees at the site, we looked for another place to collect.
We drove south towards DeMotte Campground on Hwy 67, but much of the landscape was complete devastation due to the fires and no access was allowed beyond Kaibab Lodge. It was depressing to see the immense scale of destruction and loss of natural resources, but as one forest worker that Mike talked to put it, “It’s just trees, and he didn’t have to call anybody’s family [i.e., there was no loss of life].” We then drove back down past my second trap location where we had collected earlier in the day to see if we could find better stands of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) on which to look for more Crossidius discoideus (still represented in the area by the single individual Mike had collected earlier). We drove through even more complete and utter destruction but eventually found undamaged areas at about 6600’ elevation. Not only was there G. sarothrae in bloom, but also Chrysothamnus visicidiorus (green rabbitbrush) and Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush)—all three species serving as hosts for various Crossidius and providing a perfect scenario for comparing and contrasting the sometimes-tricky-to-identify plants! The promise of Crossidius, however, would not be realized, and after an hour of searching—finding only a lone weevil on the flowers of E. nauseosa—did I finally admit defeat and concede that Crossidius from this after would have to come some other time.
Inflorescences of Gutierrezia sarothrae (left), Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (middle), and Ericameria nauseosa (right). Note the distinct ray florets of G. sarothrae and blue-green leaves of E. nauseosa.
I hadn’t planned to do my customary nighttime walk this evening—my motivation waning after the less than meager success of the previous night, continuing relative absence of beetle life I’d seen during the day, and temps now dropping towards the 50s. A cute but shy Uinta chipmunk in our campsite captured my photographic interest as we relaxed, and the setting sun turned the clouds a stunning pink!
An Uinta chipmunk (Neotamias umbrinus) climbs a Ponderosa pine to stay as far from my camera as possible!
However, as night fell the siren song of the nighttime walk began singing its tune and I was unable to resist.
The setting sun turns the clouds an exceptional pink.
It turned out to be a more successful night than I’d expected—I found a small species of tenebrionid [Edit 10/1/25: Eleodes pimelioides] on the rocks surrounding the campsite, and there turned out to be dozens of the little buggers crawling though the pine duff in the campground.
Eleodes pimelioides (family Tenebrionidae) in alpine coniferous forest at night.
Nothing else was seen, however, and since tomorrow would be a long travel day I called it an early night.
Day 9
On a mostly travel day, we tried to take a big bite out of the many miles that still separate us from St. Louis, where we planned to be in three days time. We got another look at the devastation east of Jacob Lake before reaching the dramatic drop off the Kaibab Plateau and down into the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument—their massive red bluffs accompanying us all the way to Mojave Canyon. Just south of there as the highway climbed up and out of the valley, we made a quick stop to remove excess clothing (having gone from high elevation to low), and alongside the road I spotted a Crossidius pulchellus on the flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed). This is the furthest southwest I have collected this species, and I was tempted to continue looking to see if I could find the other G. sarothrae associate—C. discoideus—as well. We still had a long drive ahead of us, however (destination Mills Rim Campground in northeastern New Mexico), so I resisted temptation and we continued the drive.
The Vermilion Cliffs, stunning as they were, still weren’t the highlight of the drive. That honor would come from the moonscape formations along Hwy 89 as it followed the Echo Cliffs and then turned east onto Hwy 160 towards Tuba City. We then passed through a series of stunning plateaus and drops on Hwy 264 as it passed through the Navajo and Hopi Reservations. One abandoned house as we dropped down off the Ganado Mesa was especially picture-worthy.
Abandoned home on the Ganado Plateau near Kykotsmovi Village, Arizona.
Eventually we crossed the state line at Picture Rocks into New Mexico, and, suddenly, the landscape seemed more “tame” and less hostile. I don’t normally like interstates, and the stretch of I-40 to Albuquerque did nothing to change my opinion of them, but I must admit that I-25 north towards Santa Fe was among the most picturesque I have ever seen. Eventually, we left the mountains and found ourselves once again on the western edge of the Great Plains—its vast featureless expanse a true contrast to the landscape we had witnessed throughout most of the day. This apparent homogeneity, however, is misleading—tucked away in places unknown to most are some remarkable natural areas, and Mills Rim is one such place. We arrived after dark, so the explorations of its hidden charms would have to wait until the next day, but after getting camp set up I did a short nighttime walk to see what was out and about.
Night sky at Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., northeastern New Mexico.
Only one beetle, Stenomorpha sp. (family Tenebrionidae) ambling across the ground, was seen.
Many plants in bloom were also seen however, so I went to bed optimistic about my prospects for finding beetles the next day.
Day 10
Mosquitoes were bad during the previous night, and they were bad again the following morning, prompting liberal use of repellent to a much greater degree than I am used to. At the same time, the presence of mosquitoes indicates abundant moisture in an area, and it was with that optimism that I set about searching for jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, tiger beetles, and whatever other insects could catch my eye in this hidden jewel of a place. Surrounded by treeless grasslands (and preserved as the Kiowa National Grasslands), Mills Rim Campground sits at the edge of Mills Canyon—a chasm in the landscape at the edge of a plateau bordering the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Firmly embedded in the Great Plains, the juniper/pine/oak woodland at the edge of and down in the canyon features plants and animals at their easternmost extent—residents of the Rocky Mountains that have found an isolated home in the middle of the grasslands. Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine), Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine), Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper), Juniperus scopulorum (Rocky Mountain juniper), Quercus grisea (gray oak), and Quercus × undulata (wavy leaf oak) all make their homes here, hosting innumerable insect species that are normally more at home in the Rocky Mountains.
View into Mills Canyon from Mills Rim Campground.
I’ve collected here several times and recorded many different western species of beetles, but the height of the season seems to be in June and July. Mid-September, in contrast, seems to be near the tail end of the season, the numbers and diversity of beetles and other insects dropping from their highs earlier in the season. The flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae, however, were hosting lots of insects. In addition to Crossidius pulchellus, Chauliognathus basalis, Bothrotes canalicularis, and Collops sp., Mike found numerous bee species, mostly females, collecting pollen from the flowers.
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Chauliognathus basalis (family Cantharidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Bothrotes canalicularis (family Tenebrionidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
A couple of species of robber flies—Ospricerus sp. and Efferia sp.—were also taken in flight, presumably patrolling the flowers of G. sarothrae for bee prey.
Ospricerus sp. (family Asilidae) patrolling flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) for bee prey.
Nysius sp. (false chinch bugs—family Lygaeidae) on flower of Erigeron divergens (spreading fleabane).
Mirabilis linearis (narrowleaf four o’clock—family Nyctaginaceae).
After a rest and rehydration break, I followed the road down Mills Canyon as it approaches the Canadian River to see if I could find Ericameria nauseosa—should I be able to, it would surely be at or near the easternmost limit of occurrence for the species in this part of New Mexico.
Mills Canyon above the Canadian River.
A bit further down Mills Canyon Road.
About half a mile down the road I began seeing Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of G. sarothrae, and I eventually secured a series of about a half dozen specimens. This is a nice record, as I found a single specimen a couple of years ago at Black Mesa in northwestern Oklahoma—a new state record and northeastern range extension, and this record helps bridge the gap between that record and the species’ more normal range of distribution across New Mexico and Arizona. Finally, nearly a mile into the canyon, I found one large blooming E. nauseosa and a smaller pre-bloom plant, but there were no Crossidius beetles on them, nor were any additional plants were seen a hundred yards or so further down the road, so I turned around.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae) along Mills Canyon Road.
On the way back out of the canyon, I collected a Calopteron sp. (family Lycidae) on senescing Melilotus alba (white clover) and photographed a female Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae).
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Back at camp, a couple of scarabaeoid beetles flew to the light of the lamp while we were relaxing with refreshments in hand and waiting for the coals to be ready. This suggested that maybe conditions were favorable for setting up the ultraviolet lights to attract other insects.
A final night of relaxing at camp with refreshments in hand.
After finishing dinner, we did exactly that and saw a few interesting insects show up, but shortly after setting up the lights the wind began to kick up, the temps began to drop, and increasingly frequent gusts making further lighting impossible!
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) male attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Schistocerca nitens (gray bird grasshopper—family Acrididae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Ophion sp. (short-tailed ichneumon wasp—family Ichneumoidae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Day 11
It was a rather sleepless final night in the tent—winds whipped as we turned in for the night, and shortly afterwards we awoke to rain splattering our faces through the fly-less tent roof. We quick got up and put on the rain fly, then listened to light but steady rain for most of the rest of the night. By the time we got up it had mostly stopped, but cool conditions with low-hanging, fast-moving clouds caused us to quickly break camp and save coffee and breakfast for Mocks Coffee Shop in Clayton, New Mexico near the Oklahoma state line (let me tell you how difficult it was for me to drive two hours first thing in the morning without coffee!). We had wanted to make our final collecting stop at a a lot near Kenton in the Black Mesa area of extreme northwestern Oklahoma, but the forecast for the area showed only slightly warmer temperatures and very gusty winds. This would make collecting there pointless, so we instead traveled four more hours east to get in front of the cold front at another of our favorite collecting spots, Gloss Mountain State Park in Major Co.
Gloss Mountain State Park features gypsum-capped mesas atop Permian red siltstones.
I was hoping to see an attractive late-season jewel beetle—Acmaeodera macra, which I had collected here and at nearby Alabaster Caverns State Park in previous years during late September. Temps were good (well over 80°F) when we arrived but the hour was already late (near 4:00 p.m.), so we had limited time for collecting before insects would start bedding down for the evening (usually around 5:00 to 6:00 p.m. at this point in the season). Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada) and Neotibicen aurífera (prairie cicada) males were still singing abundantly, filling the air with their distinctive songs (video of M. dorsata male singing here).
Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing on my hand after being taken from the stem of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower).
Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) and Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed) were blooming prolifically, off the flowers of which Mike collected a fair diversity of bees. I’d hoped to find beetles on the flowers as well, but they were limited almost exclusively to Chauliognathus limbicollis.
Chauliognathus limbicollis (family Cantharidae) on flower of Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed).
I did collect a male/female pair of Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer) on the seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed) and photographed the striking and beautiful caterpillar of Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer—family Cerambycidae) on seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed).
Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth—family Noctuidae) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
After that, I went up on top of the main mesa where I expected A. macra to occur. Heterotheca stenophylla (stiffleaf false goldenaster), on the flowers of which I collected A. macra in previous years, was blooming abundantly, but intense searching their flowers produced no beetles. I also noticed that Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), abundant in the area as well, was in only the earliest stages of bloom, suggesting to me that it might still be a bit too early for the jewel beetles to be out. By the time the 6:00 hour arrived, insect activity was noticeably diminished, and we wrapped up this, our final, collecting stop of the trip.
No camping is available at Gloss Mountain State Park, so we knocked out another hour and a half of travel by driving to Ponca City in north-central Oklahoma and taking a hotel there. For the first time since we left, we enjoyed dinner at a restaurant (fried catfish for me!), a hot shower, and a real bed!
Day 12
The following morning, we were surprised to learn that the only coffee shops in town were Starbuck’s and drive-throughs. This just wasn’t going to cut it for us on our final travel day, so we drove 15 minutes north to the small town of Newkirk and enjoyed great coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and scones at “Savvy Cactus” (Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar). (The coffee was good enough that I bought a bag of their coffee!)
“Savvy Cactus” Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar in Newkirk, Oklahoma.
The rest of the drive back to St. Louis was spent reflecting on the many experiences we’d just had and synthesizing the new knowledge while enjoying the landscape as it skirted the southern edge of the Flint Hills of Kansas and traversed the familiar hills and dales of our beloved Missouri Ozarks—the end of a 3,931-mile trip!
Welcome to the 14th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering an 11-day insect collecting trip to eastern New Mexico on May 14–25, 2024. Joining me (again!) for the trip was Mike Arduser, melittologist-extraordinaire with whom I’ve collected on and off for nearly 40 years! This is actually the first of two planned trips to New Mexico this summer—not only to collect, but also to set (on the first trip) and pick up (on the second) “jug” and “bottle” traps placed at several locations. Thus, this will be the third (and final!) season of data collection for a jug trap study that I have been conducting for the past two years (2022 across southern Missouri and 2023 in the Oklahoma panhandle). For this season, my plan was to collect and set traps up and down the eastern half of New Mexico (which seems to have been largely ignored by insect collectors and, thus, could yield some interesting records). As with the previous two seasons, placing and retrieving traps provides an opportunity to see distant habitats at multiple times during the season, thereby increasing the opportunity to see different things. It can also help “make up” for bad weather or off-timing during one of the visits. On this trip, we ended up making 16 visits to 13 different localities (12 in New Mexico, three in Oklahoma, and one in Kansas). I also placed traps at six of the localities in New Mexico in habitats ranging from low elevation sandhill scrub to mid-elevation pinyon/oak/juniper woodland to high elevation alpine forest. I’ll return to New Mexico in late June to pick up the traps—hopefully within the 5-week period that they will have been out they will attract a nice variety of interesting beetle species.
Yesterday was a largely uneventful 12-hour drive from St. Louis to Black Mesa State Park in the northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle.
Sunset in the Oklahoma panhandle.
Day 2
vic. Kenton Cimarron County, Oklahoma I’ve grown to love this spot over the past few years, and it seems to be the perfect starting point for an insect collecting trip into the western U.S. While my goal is to hang “jug” traps throughout eastern New Mexico as part of my trapping study, we had to stop at this spot just east of Kenton, a favorite because of the sandstone escarpment featuring pinyon/oak/juniper woodland—typical of further west but very unusual for Oklahoma—and the correspondingly unusual insects that we have been finding here. Spring seems to have just arrived here, as some greening has taken place and most of the deciduous trees have leafed out. However, the soapberry is just beginning to leaf out and the oaks not quite finished, so definitely on the early side of the season. Right off the bat after getting out of the car I found Moneilema annulatum (ambulated cactus beetle) on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus), but from then on it was pretty slim pickings for a good while as I waited for temperatures to warm slowly through the 60s up towards 70.
As I headed towards the woodland atop the sandstone outcrop, I noted Melampodium leucanthum in bloom but saw no Acmaeodera on the flowers. I beat the oaks and pines for a bit, seeing only chrysomelid leaf beetles on the former until I came upon a dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) and beat Oeme rigida deserta and Haplidus testaceus—both I believe to be new state records for Oklahoma—as well as a small acanthocinine cerambycid (all singletons) from the branches.
Oeme rigida deserta (family Cerambycidae) beaten from branch of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine).
Haplidus testaceus (family Cerambycidae) beaten from branch of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine).
At the bottom of the outcropping I finally beat one Brachys sp. (prob. barberi) from Quercus x undulatus (wavyleaf oak)—finally I have found this species in Oklahoma! I continued to beat the heck out of the oaks and collected a variety of mostly cryptocephaline and chlasmisine leaf beetles but never did see another Brachys. In the plain below the outcropping I collected another M. annulatum on O. phaeacantha. Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) was also abloom in the plain near and along the gravel road, and in the flower of one of the first plants I looked at I found a single Agrilus sp. (prob. malvastri). Frustratingly, no more were seen in the many flowers that I looked at afterwards. Xanthisma spinulosa (golden golden spineweed) was also blooming along the gravel road, and for awhile I only saw and picked up a couple of meloids, but finally I saw one Acmaeodera sp. on one of the flowers. This individual looks very much like the eastern A. tubulus, which would be an extraordinarily western occurrence for the species! Meeting back up with Mike back at the parking area, we discussed our respective successes and looked around a little bit more. These final efforts resulted in another Moneilema—this one M. appressum—on O. phaeacantha. Mike also gave me a meloid he collected from the flower of Oenothera lavandulifolia (lavenderleaf sundrops).
Mills Rim Campground Harding County, New Mexico After a quick ice stop in Kenton, we headed towards Mills Rim in northeastern New Mexico. I’ve been to this canyon-edge where the toe slopes of the Rocky Mountains drop down to the western edge of the Great Plains proper. Temps were nice and skies sunny when we left, but after entering New Mexico we kept our eye on a large thundercloud in the distance that seemed to be right where we were going. The closer we got, the more it seemed that was the case, and as we entered the grassland it was raining hard with plummeting temps. It eventually blew through, but alternating periods of light rain with cold winds and calm conditions with patchy sun ensued. I took the opportunity while conditions were iffy to place the first set of jug traps for the trip around the rim of the canyon, and on the way back I placed a white bottle trap in the rock plain where I’d had such good luck last July collecting Acmaeodera.
Mills Rim looking towards Mills Canyon.
By the time I returned to the car, conditions had improved to the point that we decided to continue to look around and see if any insects might be active. I found a patch of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) and searched the flowers and foliage hoping to find Agrilus malvastri. All I found instead were a few bees, which I gave to Mike. (Ironically, these would be the only bees that Mike would leave with from the visit!)
Echinocereus coccineus coccineus (scarlet hedgehog cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
I had spotted a freshly dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) along the campground road (off which I also collected a few longhorned beetles last year) and headed over to start beating it. Right off the bat I got an Anthaxia sp. (something in the subgenus Melanthaxia, but who knows what it is?!), and continued beating produced another Haplidus testaceus (not a new state record for New Mexico) and a clerid (Enoclerus sp.).
Scathophaga stercoraria (golden dung fly—family Scathophagidae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
I then started beating the oaks (Quercus x undulata—wavyleaf oak) and at first got only cryptocephaline leaf beetles, but quickly I got another Anthaxia sp.—this one in the subgenus Haplanthaxia (I can’t think of an oak-associated species that might be out here)—followed quickly by not one but two Brachys sp. prob. barberi! That provided plenty of motivation to continue beating the oaks, and I did so for another couple of hours, alternately dodging rain drops, having my arm nearly torn off by wind gusts, and getting some respite during brief sunny periods. I did collect a few more Haplanthaxia during that time as well as a variety of cryptocephalines, but no more Brachys.
Dalea formosa (feather dalea—family Fabaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
Eventually, hunger and the need to set up camp forced me back to the campsite, where we enjoyed bourbon salmon cooked in our trademark “dirty skillet”. After dinner and the ensuing darkness, I went out to walk the roads to see if anything might be out and about. I didn’t expect to see anything—and didn’t, but I also wanted to check out the dead pinyon pines and found two more H. testaceus on one nearer the canyon.
Mills Rim Campground after sunset.
Day 3
The forecast for the day was not good—scattered thunderstorms and very cool temperatures. This was true not only for Mill Canyon, but anywhere else in New Mexico for that matter. That being the case, instead of remaining here in not ideal conditions, we decided to make ground to the south while we had the chance. Perhaps on the way back we can revisit Mill Canyon—likely the rains and a week of sun and warm temperatures will do a lot to move things along. We drove through a spectacular canyon south of Mill Canyon—all apparently private land, unfortunately—but eventually ended up in driving rain for most of the way to Roswell (though not before we were able to check out a fascinating abandoned homestead).
Abandoned homestead in Newkirk, New Mexico.
We had intended to check out Bosque Redondo Park along the Pecos River near Fort Sumner, but heavy rain forced us to cancel that idea. After passing through Roswell, we checked out Bottomless Lake State Park just east of town in the Pecos River valley as a possible place to camp, then continued on to Mescalero Dunes (and checking out an even more fascinating abandoned homestead!).
Abandoned homestead east of Roswell, New Mexico.
10 mi W Caprock Chaves County, New Mexico There had been a break in the clouds while we were at the park, but as we approached the dunes we drove back into heavy clouds, light drizzle, and cold winds. We debated whether to camp there that night and then decided to defer our decision until after I placed a set of jug traps in the soapberry stands along the highway in the north side of the recreation area.
“Jug” trap baited with a 50:50 mixture of sweet red wine and 99% ethanol hanging in soapberry tree.
On the way back to the car I found a Batyle suturalis (sutured longhorned beetle) hunkered down on the flower of Hymenopappus flavescens (collegeflower)—the first insect of the day (and what I thought would be the last of the day!). Back at the car, we decided that it was simply too cold and windy to camp here and that it would be (somewhat) more comfortable at Bottomless Lakes where it was a little bit warmer and probably better protected from the wind. That would turn out to be an incredibly fortunate decision!
Batyle suturalis (sutured longhorn beelte—family Cerambycidae) on flower of Hymenopappus flavescens (collegeflower) along roadside through sand dune habitat.
Bottomless Lakes State Park Chaves County, New Mexico We picked out a nice, relatively isolated campsite bordering a rocky gypsum/red siltstone slope and immediately started exploring. There were a few plants in bloom, and almost right away I found an Acmaeodera mixta on the flower of Thelesperma magnicamporum (rayless threadleaf). I would eventually collect a few more on the same a bit further up the slope and also on the flower of Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite).
Acmaeodera mixta (family Buprestidae) on flower of Thelesperma magnicamporum (rayless threadleaf) in mesquite/saltbush chaparral.
Mike also found a large Eleodeslongicollis doing its classic headstand. Further up the slope we started finding buprestids on the mesquites—without the aid of a beating sheet! The beetles were torpid because of the cool temps (and possibly also the late hour) and we easily picked off the plants by hand. I collected another A. mixta but was more excited to find several Acmaeoderopsis hulli and then very excited to find first a male and then a female of Chrysobothris humilis—a strikingly sexually dichromatic species that I had never collected!
Acmaeoderopsis hulli (family Buprestidae) on Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) on rocky gypsum/red siltstone hillside in mesquite/saltbush chaparral.
A few Agrilus sp. and other Chrysobothris spp. were also collected, along with Plionoma suturalis and Aethecerinus latecinctus—the former not uncommon and the latter not rare but always nice to find.
Plionoma suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) on rocky gypsum/red siltstone hillside in mesquite/saltbush chaparral.
Aethecerinus latecinctus (family Cerambycidae) on Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) on rocky gypsum/red siltstone hillside in mesquite/saltbush chaparral.
With a little over an hour left before sunset, we decided we’d best get dinner cooked (burgers!) and the tent set up, and afterwards I went back up onto the slope with my beating sheet and collected nice series of the buprestids and cerambycids I’d collected earlier (but no more C. humilis, unfortunately). I also picked up a few darkling beetles, including another E. longicollis.
Eleodes longicollis (family Tenebrionidae) on rocky gypsum/red siltstone hillside in mesquite/saltbush chaparral at night.
However, the prize of the night was when I found an Amblycheila picolominii (plateau giant tiger beetle) crawling on the slopes—a species I do not have in my collection! I kept my eye out hoping to see more and did not, but who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Amblycheila picolominii (plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on rocky gypsum/red siltstone hillside in mesquite/saltbush chaparral at night.
Night lights of Roswell.
Day 4
This location was not originally in our sights as a possible collecting locality, and our original plan was to return to Mescalero Sands and spend the day collecting there. However, we were so surprised by the diversity we saw last evening after our late arrival at this spot that we decided to spend at least the morning here instead and then regroup around lunch to decide what we wanted to do. This being the case, it was nice to be able to relax a bit after breakfast while catching up on our field notes instead of breaking down camp and moving on.
One of the many “cenotes” (water-filled collapsed underground cavern) along the base of the slope along the east side of the park.
Things started off good almost immediately! I found a single clump of Senna roemeriana (two-leaved senna) across the road from the campsite, from which I beat Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata—seems like an unusually eastern occurrence for the species! After making my way to the Bluff trail, I started beating Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) around the vicinity of the trailhead and collected several Chrysobothris spp. (likely C. octocola and C. lateralis) and more Aethecerinus latecinctus along with a few clytrine leaf beetles.
Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed) in riparian saltbush chaparral.
The fun really started, however, when I started taking a closer look at the stems of living Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush). I remembered cutting Amannus vittatus from such near El Paso, Texas a couple of years ago and, thus, knew what to look for—emergence holes on not-too-small, still-living stems. I found such almost immediately when I began looking closely inside the plants, and on the very first stem that I decided to break open I found not only a larva in its gallery but a teneral, unemerged adult! I broke open more stems and found a few more larvae, so I went back to the car to retrieve a saw, where I encountered Mike and us both agreeing that we should just spend the rest of the day here. Hiking back to the saltbushes, I cut the stems in which I’d found larvae, along with several more that seemed like they might be right for infestation, and bundled them up to bring back for rearing.
Amannus vittatus (family Cerambycidae) unemerged teneral adult in stem of Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush) In mesquite/saltbush chaparral.
It was then past noon and I’d had made it no further than the vicinity of the trailhead; progress was further delayed when I got back on the trail and encountered a stand of Thelesperma magnicamporum (rayless greenthread) in bloom. I looked at the flowers hoping to find some interesting Acmaeodera spp., but all I found were a few A. mixta and Trichodes orestes. The name of the trail led me to believe it would go up on top of the bluff, where I thought the habitat might be more interesting than the mesquite/saltbush chaparral that I was following, so I continued further. That never happened, so I began bushwhacking the slope where I found the occasional Opuntia macrocentra (black-spined pricklypear cactus) in bloom. Pricklypears flowers are normally Acmaeodera magnets, so I inspected each blossom that I encountered carefully but found only a single A. mixta for the effort.
By then curiosity was getting the better of me and I just had to see where the trail actually went. The mesquite/saltbush chaparral gave way to more of a tamarisk wasteland, and I began to suffer a bit from heat and thirst as I carefully metered my water bag, but at o e point along the trail I encountered a patch of yellow asters in flower that remain undetermined (they key to Senecio flaccidus in “Flora Neomexicana” but are precluded from that species by their succulent, linear, undissected leaves). Edit: these were determined by George Yatskievych at the University of Texas in Austin to be Pseudoclappia arenaria, or Trans-Pecos false clapdaisy). I monitored the patch for a while but collected only a small series of A. mixta from its flowers.
Lordotus striatus (family Bombyliidae) on flower of Pseudoclappia arenaria (Trans-Pecos false clapdaisy—family Astersceae) in alkaline flat of tamarisk/saltbush chaparral.
The trail, disappointingly, terminated not in some interesting blufftop habitat, but at the RV campground on the south end of the park, so I turned around and made the long, hot, thirsty slog back to the tent campground where I chugged a bottle of sport drink and scarfed down a can of sardines on crackers (a favorite field lunch!). Mike had done exceedingly well collecting bees near the campsite on a variety of flowers and in bowl traps that he’d set on the lower slope behind the campsite. He also gave me the few buprestids that had been attracted to the latter, most being the common A. mixta but also a female Chrysobothris humilis, bringing to three my series of this fine, uncommonly encountered species!
On our first trip into the park to look at the campground, I spotted the alkaline shore of “Lazy Lagoon.” I thought there must be tiger beetles there, so after a bit of rest and rehydration I went back to the lake and hiked down to the shore to see what cool tiger beetles I would find.
Late afternoon sun over “Lazy Lagoon” at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
I stalked and scanned and searched and surveyed, but nary a tiger beetle was to be seen! If I hadn’t found Amblycheila picolominii the previous night, I would have begun to wonder if I was losing my tiger beetle mojo.
Stalking tiger beetles!
I ended up walking the entire perimeter of the southmost lakebed and saw few insects at all except Erynephala puncticollis (beet leaf beetle—family Chrysomelidae) feeding on the fleshy, succulent foliage of Allenrolfea occidentalis (iodine bush), so I headed back to the campsite to process the day’s catch and work on my field notes.
Erynephala puncticollis (beet leaf beetle—family Chrysomelidae) on Allenrolfea occidentalis (iodine bush) in dry alkaline lakebed.
After a dinner of bison steaks, I had considered setting up the lights to attract nocuturnal insects, but my motivation was dampened by the strenuous day and waxing, now first quarter moon. I was also more interested in walking the rocky gypsum/red siltstone slope behind our campsite to see if I could find more Amblycheila picolominii to go with the one I found the previous night and beating the Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in hopes of finding more individuals of Chrysobothris humilis to go with the three I had. Beating the mesquite was productive, but only for Chrysobothris octocola and C. lateralis—no C. humilis were seen, nor were any of the other buprestids I’d seen the previous night such as Acmaeoderopsis hulli or Agrilus spp. I also struck out with A. picolominii, finding only a single small tenebrionid (darkling beetle) crawling over the rocks. The nighttime views, however, were spectacular—with the moonlit slope behind the campsite, the stars featuring a prominent Big Dipper, and the hauntingly beautiful flowers of Anulocaulis leiosolenus (southwestern ringstem—family Nyctaginaceae), being the standout memories!
Rocky gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
Night sky featuring the Big Dipper.
Anulocaulis leiosolenus (southwestern ringstem—family Nyctaginaceae) on rocky gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
Day 5
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area Chaves County, New Mexico We were happy to be leaving the area this morning and heading to Mescalero Sands, as the day’s forecast was even hotter than the previous day and the slightly higher elevation at the dunes would help to mitigate some of that heat. We arrived at the dunes mid-morning, and almost immediately I noticed dung beetles flying low to the ground. The culprit was freshly deposited droppings from a dog, and while most of the beetles flying around and tumbling over the pieces were Canthon sp., I did pick up a female Phanaeus vindex.
Canthon sp. (dung beetle—family Scarabaeidae) rolling dog dropping in sand dune habitat.
One of my priority species for the locality was Agrilus hespenheidei, which I have collected only sparingly during previous visits; however, I also hoped to see other species associated with the stands of Quercus havardii (shinnery oak) that dot the sand dunes and surrounding areas here such as Brachys barberi and Chrysobothris mescalero. Sweeping the oak immediately turned up both species, and continued sweeping a few C. purpureovittatus and a nice series of a very tiny Agrilus sp. (possibly something I’ve not collected before) along with a few Cyrtolobus sp. (treehoppers) and some very tiny Enoclerus sp. (checkered beetle). In between sweepings of the oak patches, I saw several small dung beetles (possibly Boreocanthon sp.) rolling rodent scats, one Aethecerinus latecinctus a small meloid in flight, and a much larger meloid—Lytta reticulata—perched on the underside of a leaf on Phacelia integrifolia.
Lytta reticulata (family Meloidae) on foliage of Phacelia integrifolia in sand dune.
Hiking north out of the dunes into the chaparral I encountered the first of several Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite), off which I beat one Plionoma suturalis along with another small meloid and tiny clerid, but further beating of mesquite was not productive and I turned my attention to other things. One was a lone, fading flower on Oenothera albicaulis (most other plants of this species seemed to be finished blooming, off which I took a single Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides, and a bit further to the north I started encountering Hymenopappus flavescens (collegeflower) in bloom, almost all that I looked at hosting one or two resting Batyle suturalis. Though I was now well north of the dunes, patches of Q. havardii still dotted the area, and sweeping them produced not only more C. mescalero as expected, but also several Acmaeoderopsis hulli and another A. quadrivittatoides. The former especially was a bit of a surprise to me, as I have collected that species exclusively on mesquite; however, in checking the Nelson catalogue I see that oak has been reported as a larval host for the species. From that point on I focused on finding flowers which might be hosting Acmaeodera or longhorned beetles and encountered Lorandersonia pulchella (southwestern rabbitbrush) hosting several B. suturalis on its flowers.
Batyle suturalis (family Cerambycidae on flower of Lorandersonia pulchella (southwestern rabbitbrush) in mesquite/oak chaparral.
Xanthisma spinulosum (golden spinyweed), usually a good at attracting Acmaeodera, were sparse, but I did find a few hosting A. quadrivittatoides, and along the roadside I found a few Psilostrophe tagetina (woolly paperflower) blooming, with one or two A. mixta on the flowers. The floral host prize, however, went to the lone pricklypear cactus that I found in bloom—Opuntia macrorhiza (prairie pricklypear cactus), which was literally overwhelmed with A. mixta and especially A. quadrivittatoides.
Opuntia macrorhiza (prairie pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in mesquite sand chaparral.
By this time I was hot and tired and thirsty and started heading back towards the car, collecting a few A. mixta and B. suturalis on the flowers of Thelesperma magnicamporum (green threadleaf). I met up with Mike back at the car—he himself had also collected a nice diversity of bees off the flowers in the area, and we decided we’d seen what we needed to and that we’d head south to Eddy Co. for the next day’s collecting. On the way out of the area, I stopped inside the entrance and set a white bottle trap near the pay station.
Our next insect collecting destination was the southernmost tract of the Lincoln National Forest, where I suspected species more typical of west Texas may be found. Along the way, we decided to check out the campground at Bentley Lake State Park—we were extremely unimpressed and decided to drive to Dog Canyon Campground in Guadeloupe National Park just over the Texas state line.
Crossing the state line into Dog Canyon in the Guadeloupe Mountains of west Texas.
We were taking a chance—drop-in camping at a National Park on a Saturday night is generally unsuccessful, but the season was still early and we managed to snag the last site available in the tent loop. The three-quarters moon was spectacular as it rose above the massive cliffs across the canyon, and the cool night air was a welcome change from the blistering 100°F that we experienced most of the day at lower elevations.
Our campsite in Dog Canyon Campground.
Day 6
In the morning we broke camp and headed back into New Mexico to a spot where the Davis Mountains specialty Purpuricenus opacus was recently taken, expanding its known range to beyond the confines of west Texas. Before we had gone very far, however, we had to save a prairie rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis) that we saw stretched out across the road. Of course, we had to stop and gawk at it and take photos. He was none too happy with us, quickly assuming a ready-to-strike pose and rattling persistently as I approached from various angles to photograph it (from a safe distance).
Prairie rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis) on road through juniper chaparral.
After finishing, we had little faith that the next person that came along would be as snake friendly as us, so we decided to move him off the road. We couldn’t find a stick long enough with which to push it and still keep a safe distance, so we got my telescoping insect net, extended it all the way out, and pushed him gently with the net bag. Of course, instead of “running” away from the net, he struck at it several times and then crawled inside it! We then carried it in the net to well away from the road and laid the net out along the ground so that it eventually found its way out. Now that it was on a natural surface, I needed more pics, to which he took just as much offense as he did during the previous photo session. We decided to name him “Ryan the Rattlesnake,” and he was probably very happy to see us leave.
The rattlesnake was no less angry after being placed on a more natural substrate!
“Hamm Vista” Klondike Gap Rd EddyCounty, New Mexico After saving Private Ryan, we arrived shortly at this locality southwest of Queen. Like we had seen driving in yesterday, the area was bone dry—apparently none of the rains that rolled through New Mexico earlier in the week had touched this mountain range. As a result, there was no fresh foliage on the oaks to beat nor flowers from which to pick insects. Despite this, I was motivated to hang a set of jug traps in the hope that rain would eventually hit the area and trigger emergence. Should such be the case, having traps hung in the area would be my best chance of trapping P. opacus. I hung the traps in a roughly equilateral triangle centered on the road pull-off and set a white bottle as well for good measure. With no insects actually seen, however, we decided to cut bait and move on.
View from Hamm Vista along Klondike Gap Rd. in Lincoln National Forest.
“Wooded draw” XBar Rd Eddy County, New Mexico As we were driving, I mentioned to Mike that I’d like to hang one more set of traps in the area, and that an ideal spot would be around 5000’ elevation and still in the oak zone—preferably a wooded draw that crossed the road so I could hike up into and place the traps. As we approached the 5000’ mark east of Queen, we saw just such a draw off to the east, and almost immediately afterwards we came to a road that turned off the highway towards the draw. We took it, and about ½ mile down we found a pull out right next to the draw, which was filled with oaks! Amazingly, the elevation where we parked was exactly 5000’—talk about fate! It was as bone dry as the last spot, but again I hung the traps anyway—all three in the ravine with a white bottle trap near the parking area just above the draw.
Wooded draw through pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
As I was setting traps, I found a couple of Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in bloom, one of which was drawing lots of Acmaeodera. Most appeared to be A. quadrivittatoides (although I must now be on the lookout for a lookalike new species that we found in west Texas a couple of years ago); however, one seems to be the recently described A. natlovei, and another seems to be A. gillespiensis—a west Texas specialty that I’m not sure has been reported from New Mexico. Upon returning to the car, Mike gave me a vial of Acmaeodera that he had collected from bowl traps that he’d set out—again, most appeared to be A. quadrivittatoides but with at least one A. natlovei and one A. gillespiensis. Thus, despite the dry conditions I walked away with a few good finds.
Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
Switchback Trailhead Otero County, New Mexico It was a frustrating drive from Eddy Co.—temperatures through the low elevations soared up to 100°F, and the landscape provided little of interest. As we climbed in elevation, however, the temperatures began to decrease, and as we entered the national forest I was happy to see pines and oaks beginning to replace mesquite. Our first locality after entering the national forest, however, was a bust—conditions were still bone dry, and with nothing but pines and junipers on which to collect there was no point in even trying. Perhaps on my next trip back here in late June there will be a reason to stop and look for conifer-associated buprestids. We decided to continue on towards Cloudcroft, but before we did we stopped at a gas station in Mayhill for ice. As I was approaching the front door, I found a Zopherus concolor sitting on the sidewalk—freshly dead but intact and apparently having crawled there sometime during the previous evening before expiring. One of the best gas stations finds I’ve ever had!
Shortly afterwards we arrived in Cloudcroft, where I had two localities I wanted to check out. One was Trestle Depot Recreation Area, and the other was Switchback Trail. We went to to former first but were unimpressed by the closed coniferous forest with only small patches of small Gambel’s oaks. The trailhead area for Switchback Trail was much more interesting—a large open expanse with a variety of flowers and many large patches of mature Gambel’s oaks.
Alpine meadow at Switchback Trail trailhead.
The latter was my primary interest, as I believe the recently described Brachys rileyi—collected on Gambel’s oak at several high mountain locations in southeastern New Mexico and west Texas—should also occur here. The leaves, however, were just beginning to expand—a consequence of the +8000’ elevations, so I considered it unlikely that Brachys would yet be out. I used the telescoping tropics net to sweep the high branch tips anyway, and while I did not find B. rileyi, I did collect a series of alticine leaf beetles that, curiously, resemble B. rileyi in their size and coloration—metallic blue with a narrowed reddish “apex.” In the case of these beetles, however, the narrowed reddish apex is the head and pronotum, while in B. rileyi it is the elytral apex. Satisfied that further sweeping would not yield any buprestids, I set about hanging the jug traps—again in a roughly equilateral triangle along the edges of the forest with a white bottle trap in the open area near the parking area.
Conopholis alpina (alpine cancer-root—family Orobanchaceae) in alpine forest under Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak). This achlorophyllous (lacking chlorophyll) plant is a root parasite (holoparasite) of oaks.
With evening approaching, we wrapped up the collecting and headed to Lower Karr Canyon, where we enjoyed “dirty burgers” for dinner and a very pleasant night of sleep (elevation 7830’—it got quite cold!).
“Dirty” burgers!
Day 7
“Point of Sands” Vista Eddy County, New Mexico After breaking camp, but before heading to other locations further north, we made a quick detour to this cool place where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. Three years ago when Jeff Huether first took me to this spot, I found a carcass of Sphaerobothris ulkei, which likely breeds in the Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) growing here. I brought Jason Hansen, Joshua Basham, and Tyler Hedlund here the following year hoping to find Sphaerobothris—we did not, but we did find Acmaeodera recticollis, another species associated with Ephedra and one which I had not collected before. I was hoping to find either/or this time, but the dry conditions made it clear from the start that it was unlikely.
Scanning the dunes for signs of insects.
We walked the area anyway—down the E side of the highway and back up the W (sand dune) side where we parked. It wasn’t until I reached the sand dune that I saw anything of note—a few bees in the flowers of Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless threadleaf), which I collected for Mike. I half expected an agent or two from the Border Patrol station up the road to pay us a visit (which happened to me last time I stopped here), but no such visit occurred. No longer desiring to beat a dead horse, we decided to travel back north to the Lincoln National Forest and see if some localities even further north might be more productive.
Paradise State Park Union County, New Mexico The localities further north in the Lincoln National Forest around Ruidosa were just as bone dry as further south. We actually stopped and got out of the car at Grindstone Lake, but the combination of high elevation with no deciduous trees, lack of plants in flower, and crowds of people choking the trails caused us to get right back in the car. An hour’s drive to another small mountain range to the east was equally disappointing, with the same dry conditions and the campground unexpectedly closed to overnight camping! At that point, we decided we needed to bite the bullet and blast as far east as we could, where we knew rains had soaked the area the previous week, and decided on Oasis State Park as a place that might offer the combination of moist conditions, interesting habitat, and ability to camp that we desired. The shift from brown, dusty dry to verdant green across the landscape once we got east of Roswell was sudden and striking, and the landscape remained green the rest of the way to the park, which appears to be a northern extension of the same sand dune system that is found further south in Mescalero Sands and still further south near Kermit, Texas. We were quite hopeful as we found a campsite and got out of the car to start exploring. There was a nice variety of dune-type plants in bloom, including pricklypear cactus—always a favorite of mine for hunting jewel beetles in the genus Acmaeodera.
Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in sand prairie.
Sadly, there seemed to be very little insect activity going on—perhaps a result of our relatively late hour of arrival (6 pm). I checked the pricklypears in the prairie near the campsite for a while, but after not seeing insects in the flowers I decided to walk the Sand Dune Trail. There wasn’t nearly as much pricklypear in the dunes as in the area near the campsite, but I checked them anyway. On the back end of the trail I finally found a buprestid beetle—Acmaeodera mixta bedded down inside a curled petal on the flower of Helianthus annuus.
Acmaeodera mixta (family Buprestidae) bedded down for the evening on a flower of Helianthus annuus (common sunflower) in vegetated sand dune habitat.
Shortly afterwards I found an Eleodes hispilabris (clown beetle) crossing the sandy trail—as soon as he saw me he assumed the classic “headstand” defensive pose and allowed me to take a pic.
Eleodes hispilabris (family Tenebrionidae) doing the classic “headstand” in sand dune.
Nothing else was happening (although Mike did get a small variety of bees off the various blooms), so we setup camp and cooked “dirty bratwursts”!
Cooking “dirty brats” on a propane stove.
After dinner, I went to check out the restroom lights, as they were nice and bright (not the “yellow” anti-bug lights that most parks use!). Unfortunately, there were no beetles to speak of, but there were a few moths and a very large, very cool Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider—family Lycosidae) that actually “hopped” to escape my molestations and eventually ended up in a great pose for photos.
Hogna carolinensis (Carolina wolf spider—family Lycosidae) in sand dune at night.
A face only a mother could love!
Day 8
“Caprock Amphitheater” Quay County, New Mexico We spent the morning catching up on our field notes before breaking camp. No new insect activity was showing up by the time we were packed up, so rather than spend more time here we decided to head back up to Mills Canyon where we had started the trip last week. The landscape north of Portales is stunningly featureless, so imagine our surprise when we happened upon a spectacular escarpment that dropped precipitously as we approached San Jon just east of Tucumcari. Unlike the unendingly treeless plains above and below, the escarpment itself was covered with pinyon/oak/juniper woodland. Mike and I had the same idea at the same time—find a place to pull over and give the place a look!
“Caprock Amphitheater.”
Right off the bat I found Acmaeodera mixta on the flowers of Thelosperma magnicamporum (rayless greenthread), but further inspection of various “Acmaeodera flowers” (e.g., Opuntia and Melampodium) was fruitless. Beating oaks was fruitless as well, so I went back to examining flowers.
Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
After about half and hour to 45 minutes, activity seemed to pick up—I started seeing Acmaeodera ligulata on the flowers of both Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy) and Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear), and over the next hour or so I continued to add to the series and found a few A. quadrivittatoides on each as well.
Acmaeodera ligulata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Melampodium leucanthum in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
I also resumed beating and picked up a few misc. insects before finally beating a single Brachys barberi from the branch of Quercus x undulata (wavyleaf oak). I beat a lot more oak after that but never found another Brachys, then turned my attention to Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite). The very first branch I whacked yielded a large Chrysobothris merkelii, but afterwards all of my beating produced only a few other misc. insects. The area around the pulloff was limited in area by steep cliffs on one side and the road on the other, so I crossed the road where Mike was already monitoring flowers. I did collect more A. ligulata on the flowers of Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort), but the hillside was steep, difficult to traverse, and yielded only more A. ligulata on M. leucanthum.
Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf groundsel—family Asteraceae) along roadside through pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Feeling like I’d gotten a good sampling of what was out, I decided that this would also be a good spot to hang a set of traps, as it was far removed from any of the other sets of traps that I’d hung in the state. I hiked up the road to the top of the canyon (finding a single A. ligulata on the flower of Erigeron sp. along the way), hung a trap from a tree in the drainage, hiked back down to the parking pulloff to hang another trap, then crossed the highway and hiked down about 1/8 mile to the top of the slope to hang the third trap.
Echinocereus reichenbachii ssp. perbellus (family Cactaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment.
When I returned to the car, Mike was picking up his bowl traps (in which he’d also collected several Acmaeodera spp.). Considering that a melittologist thought it was a good spot to place bowl traps to attract flower-visiting bees, I decided it should also be a good spot for placing a bottle trap to attract flower-visiting Acmaeodera. By the time I had all my traps in place, we’d spent about four hours at the spot—an unexpected end to our frustrating (and literal) dry spell!
Mills Rim Campground Harding County, New Mexico Fresh from success at the previous spot, and seeing how green the landscape had become as we continued further north, we were filled with optimism about what we might find at Mills Rim after rains had soaked the area a week ago a d sunny skies had warmed the landscape since. The landscape also had become much more interesting than further south, as hints of canyonlands appeared with greater frequency (with the occasional abandoned homestead still dotting the landscape).
Abandoned homestead near San Jon, New Mexico.
The final ascent through a spectacular canyon south of our destination back up onto the plateau let us know our drive was almost done. We stopped at a pile of freshly-cut juniper just inside the boundary of the Grassland, expecting the branches to be crawling with longhorned beetles in the genera Callidium/Semanotus or jewel beetles in the genus Chrysobothris, but alas none were seen. Still, we arrived at the campground (unfortunately, our favorite site was occupied, so we had to settle for the neighboring site) full of optimism about what we might see in the day that was left. My first target was a stand of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) near the campsite, from the flowers of which I hoped to find Agrilus malvastri. I did eventually find one, but only after looking at a lot of plants and seeing only leaf beetles and other misc. insects.
Nemognatha nigripennis (family Meloidae) on flower of Tetraneuris acaulis in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
I then returned to the dead Pinus edulis from the branches of which I’d beaten both buprestids and cerambycids the previous time but this time beat only one Acanthocinus sp. and a few other misc. insects. Likewise with Quercus x undulatus (wavyleaf oak)—I’d beaten some (not a lot) of nice buprestids from their branches during the previous week’s visit, but this time only a few misc. other insects were found.
Castilleja integra (wholeleaf Indian paintbrush—family Orobanchaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
Mike fared little better, seeing very few bees on the flowers (in fact, the bees I collected on S. coccinea formed the bulk of his collections from this visit). We debated about whether it was too early in the season or too late in the day, but in my opinion the area still had the feel of “early” (I took a peek inside one of the jug traps that I’d hung last week and, other than moths, saw only a single beetle—Euphoria fulgida). I suspect it will be still later in May or even early June before insect activity really starts to pick up at the site.
Penstemon jamesii (James’ penstemon—family Plantaginaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable visit (as always), and a special treat was the Texas horned lizard (a.k.a. “horny toad”, Phrynosoma cornutum) that visited the campsite and entertained us while dining on harvester ants. While it may have been on the early side for insects during this visit, I will be returning in mid-June, during which time insect activity should be in full swing!
Texas horned lizard (Phrynosoma cornutum) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
Of all North American reptiles, these are the most “dinosaurian”-looking
After dark, I returned to the dead P. edulis after dark and found a single Zopherus concolor on the ground at the base of the trunk (I found several of these on the trunks of dead P. edulis last year at this same location).
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) on ground at night at base of trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
On the trunk of another dead P. edulis (on the branches of which I’d collected a couple of cerambycids during the previous visit), I found one Cymatodera sp.
Cymatodera sp. (family Cleridae) at night on trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland.
Day 9
The lack of insect activity continued during the morning, and with forecast temperatures not even reaching 70°F, it became clear that waiting would not change anything. We had considered continuing north to Sugarite State Park very near the Colorado state line. However, the forecast there was no better—in fact, cool temperatures were forecast across northeastern New Mexico, and only in areas further east did the forecasts look more promising. Rather than beat a dead horse and try to collect in New Mexico anyway, we decided to head back to one of our favorite spots in Oklahoma—the sandstone outcropping near Kenton that we visited at the start of the trip (and from which I have already found so many great records over the past few years). We could then camp at Black Mesa State Park, drive to Gloss Mountain State Park the following day, and camp at nearby Alabaster Caverns State Park for the final night of camping before heading home in Friday. I kept an eye out for someplace to set my last set of traps (I’d brought seven sets), but all we saw before entering Oklahoma were smiling dinosaurs!
Dinosaurs are everywhere in this part of the country!
He’s smiling!
nr. Kenton Cimarron County, Oklahoma Temperatures were already well above 70°F by the time we arrived, and the sunny skies further increased my optimism. I started out checking the flowers of Xanthisma spinosa (spiny goldenweed) along the gravel road behind the outcropping but saw only a few blister beetles & bees (the latter I collected for Mike). Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless slenderthread) was also in bloom, from which I collected Trichodes oresterus.
Trichodes oresterus (family Cleridae) on flower of Thelosperma megapotamicum in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment.
What I was really after, however, was Brachys after beating a single specimen (prob. B. barberi) from Quercus x undulata (wavyleaf oak) last week. It didn’t take long before I found one, and it didn’t take long after that to find another one. Over the next hour or so, I accumulated a nice series of about a dozen specimens by working the oaks in an expanding zone around the tree from which I’d collected the first specimen. In addition, I also collected a very small Brachys that looks like B. aeruginosus—if that’s what it is, then it is a very unusual far western record for the species—and a variety of other misc. beetles (mostly cryptocephaline and chlamisine leaf beetles). While I was beating the oaks, I found Opuntia polyacantha in flower (the only such plant I saw all day) and collected a small bee (for Mike) & misc. beetle from its flower.
Opuntia polyacantha (plains pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment.
After beating all the oaks along the gravel road, I went up on top of the outcropping to continue beating the oaks situated above those I’d been beating along the gravel road, which ultimately added a few more specimens to my series of Brachys. Before doing that, however, I went over to a small area where I had seen Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy) in bloom the previous week to see if they were by now attracting Acmaeodera. Only a few were seen, all at first representing only A. quadrivittatoides (which I first collected here as a new state record in 2022), but when I returned a short while later I found a couple more plus one A. ligulata, which I believe itself to be a new state record! Returning to the oaks, I noticed some “flagged” branches on one of the Quercusmohriana (Mohr oak). This seems to be an unusual northern outpost for the species, which is more commonly found throughout much of Texas, and pulling the branches off the plant revealed cerambycid-pruned larval galleries inside, prompting me to gather and bundle the branches for rearing.
Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak—family Fagaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Quercus x undulata (wavyleaf oak—family Fagaceae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment.
As I worked my way east along the outcropping, I encountered some small, recently (and apparently deliberately) cut branches of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine), and inspecting the branches revealed a couple of small Chrysobothris that must be C. cuprescens. By this time, I was near the dead P. edulis tree from which I’d beaten a few longhorned beetles the previous week (including two potential new state records!). I did not beat any beetles off of its branches this time, but I did collect one of the branches for rearing. By this time, I’d been out for more than three hours and was getting hot, thirsty, and hungry, so I headed back to the car to check in with Mike. Collecting had been a bit slower for him, though still productive, and he gave me a few Acmaeodera—two A. mixta and one A. ligulata—that he’d collected on the flowers of M. leucanthum across the highway, along with three clytrine leaf beetles that he’d collected on flowers of Eriogonum sp. I went over to the Melampodium spot to see if I could find more Acmaeodera (I did not, as it was starting to get late in the day), but what I did find might be one of the coolest finds of the trip—a perfectly complete, perfectly clean, wholly intact skull amongst the skeletal remains of a gray fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus)—a truly spectacular find!
Gray fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus) cranium amongst skeletal remains along roadside in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone escarpment. Subspecies schotii (Arizona gray fox)?
A perfectly clean, perfectly complete skull!
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, Oklahoma Our usual campsite was taken, so we had to “settled for the neighboring site. After setting up camp; however (and seeing the neighbor’s tent flapping noisily in the wind), we decided that our smaller but more sheltered and private site was actually even more desirable!
Full moon (almost) rising!
We cooked the last of the meat—“dirty” burgers, and after darkness had settled I went out to hunt the roads and trails to see what might be out and about. Immediately upon hitting the road, I found Eleodes longicollis lumbering across the pavement and goaded it into a headstand for photos.
Eleodes longicollis (family Tenebrionidae) on road through juniper chaparral at night.
Nothing else, however, was seen during the entire rest of the walk (other than the “pet” dinosaur outside the campground supply store).
“Pet” dinosaur!
The nearly full moon, however, was a sight to behold, especially in this area which is known for its darkest of night skies!
A near-full moon (12 hours shy) shines brightly over Black Mesa State Park.
Day 10
Gloss Mountain State Park Major County, Oklahoma Early last week as we made our way out to Black Mesa State Park at the beginning of the trip, it felt really strange to pass right by Gloss Mountain State Park without even stopping. It has been among my favorite collecting localities over the past 15 years, and nearly every collecting trip I’ve made to northwestern Oklahoma since I “discovered” this spot in 2009 has started here. Cool weather in New Mexico, however, chased us back east a few days earlier than we had planned, and we both welcomed the sudden opportunity to collect at a time of year (late May) that neither of us have been here before.
Return to Gloss Mountain!
Mike immediately found a stand of Astragalus (milkvetch) below the front slopes that were pulling in bees and stationed himself there. I knew exactly where I wanted to go—a small woody copse of Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) and Sapindus saponaria var. drummondii (western soapberry) where in previous years I’ve collected great species such as Paratyndaris prosopis (on hackberry) and Agrilus limpiae (on soapberry). I had started up the trail on the slope face when I noticed an all-black Euphoria sp. (flower scarab) on the flower of Tamarix ramosissimus (saltcedar) near the trail. I thought at first that it was a species I’d never seen before, but some quick online sleuthing revealed that it was merely a color variant of the common E. kernii (Kern’s flower scarab). A little more searching in a neighboring plant also produced a few of its dreadfully common congener, E. sepulcralis (dark flower scarab).
Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab—family Scarabaeidae) on flower of Tamarix ramosissima (saltcedar) in mesquite chaparral below gypsum/siltstone slope.
The distraction over and puzzle solved, I continued up the slope, stopping at a few patches of Mimosa nuttallii (Nuttall’s sensitive-briar) along the way to pick a few Typocerus octonotatus (eight-spotted flower longhorn) and Trichiotinus texanus (Texas flower scarab) from its flowers. About halfway up the slope is another copse of hackberry and soapberry, and beating branches of the former produced numerous Chrysobothris purpureovittata (some unusually coppery-colored, and few the bright blue and green that is typical of the species), one C. caddo, several Agrilus lecontei celticola, several A. paracelti, and one A. obolinus? along with a few other misc. beetles. I’ll need to follow up on the A. obolinus—that is a species I’ve collected only once before (in west Texas). There was also one dead hackberry tree in the copse, from the branches of which I beat a few additional A. lecontei celticola and A. paracelti.
Winds were incredibly strong out of the south, and they actually helped push me up the last bit of the slope and onto the top of the mesa, where I met my old friend again—Parvindela celeripes (swift tiger beetle, formerly Cylindera celeripes)—on the clay exposures between the areas of vegetation. It had been many years since I’d seen this species, which I first found occurring abundantly in the gypsum/red clay landscape across this part of the state back in 2009–2010. I believe this is the earliest date that I’ve seen adults of the species active, which I’ve more normally recorded during June and early July.
Turning my attention to the copse on top of the mesa, I began beating the hackberry and, for a while, collected some the same species I’d collected on the slope below—C. purpureovittata, A. lecontei celticola, A. paracelti—along with a few misc. beetles. Finally, on a hackberry on the backside of the copse, I found what I was looking for—Paratyndaris prosopis! This single individual is the first I’ve seen since I collected about a dozen specimens in the exact same spot back in 2013! I also beat the soapberries in the copse, and unlike the trees on the lower slopes which produced nothing, the trees in the copse produced a nice series of Agrilus egeniformis (normally associated with honey locust but also utilizing western soapberry, thus, giving it an unusual distribution) and a few A. ornatulus. I had hoped to also find A. limpiae (a small series of which I collected here last year during mid-May) or A. sapindi (which I’ve never collected here) as well, but no such luck. I continued further around the perimeter of mesa beating the few hackberries that dot the edge but found only a few more C. purpureovittatus, A. lectontei celticola, and A. paracelti but no more P. prosopis. The wind didn’t make things easy, but I only lost a few of the specimens I’d beaten to the wind (one, however, being only the only other C. caddo that I found during the day). Hiking back towards the edge of the mesa, the winds continued unabated, making it the most difficult descent over the mesa rim and down onto the slope that I’d ever experienced—trying to hold onto my net and beating sheet with one hand while grabbing the rail with the other required a level of acrobatism that I’ve lacked for many years now! Eventually, however, I did make it down off the slope. By then, it was almost evening, and we celebrate the final day of collecting with dinner at a restaurant in Woodward before continuing on to our campsite at Alabaster Caverns.
Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma We both enjoyed fish (and beer!) at Longshots Bar & Grill in Woodward (the last time we tried to have dinner here in May 2022, the kitchen caught fire after we placed our order and we had to find another restaurant. At least they didn’t charge us for the beer!). We got to our campsite with enough daylight left after setting up camp to allow a little beating of the trees around the camp. I beat a couple of leaf beetles from the branch of a Quercus macrocarpa (burr oak—probably planted) and a few Agrilus paracelti from the partially dead branches of a nearby Celtis occidentalis (common hackberry). Further beating of the healthier hackberries in the campground yielded nothing, so we settled down for the evening, reminisced about the past two weeks, and contemplated tomorrow’s long drive home.
Our campsite in Canyon Campground at Alabaster Caverns State Park
Day 11
Gypsum Hills Scenic Byway Information Kiosk Barber County, Kansas The final day of a long field trip is always a mixture of sadness and satisfaction—sadness that the fun is over, but satisfaction with the memories. We talked about some of the more memorable events of the trip and made plans for follow up on ideas discussed, but also looked forward to getting back home and resuming our normal lives (after a bit of rest!). We weren’t quite done with the collecting, however—I knew of this spot in south-central Kansas (sort of on the way home) where a beautiful tiger beetle species has been taken during the spring: Cicindela pulchra. Its common name is, in fact, beautiful tiger beetle, which is a direct translation of its scientific name! I haven’t seen this species in many years (since 2011 in the Black Hills of South Dakota!), so I wanted to take the opportunity as it presented itself. Arriving at the spot with sunny skies and temps above 70°F seemed promising, but it became clear fairly quickly that the tiger beetles I was after were not active at this site at this time. There were, however, flowers in bloom, and I collected a few other things from them (though nothing special). These included Batyle suturalis (sutured flower longhorn) on Thelosperma magnicamporum (rayless greenthread) and Typocerus octonotatus (eight-spotted flower longhorn), Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab), and a few more bees on Mimosa nuttallii (Nuttall’s sensitive-briar) and Callirhoe involucrata (winecups). I was really hoping to find Agrilus muticus on the latter plant, as I’ve only collected a few specimens of this species, and that was many years ago.
Typocerus octonotatus (eight-spotted flower longhorn beetle—family Cerambycidae) on flower of Mimosa nuttallii in shortgrass prairie.
Eventually, we knew it was time to go—there was no more “one more stop,” and we settled into a beautiful drive across the southern edge of Kansas before the final drive up through familiar terrain across the Missouri Ozarks!
p.s. “Little Bits” (my little black kitty cat 🐈⬛) was sure glad to see me!
For the past few years, I’ve been involved with the Missouri Native Plant Society (MONPS). To this point, however, my involvement has been limited to attending the monthly meetings of the St Louis Chapter—unfortunately, now only via Zoom since the beginning of the pandemic. I hope that soon we can return to in-person meetings (or, even better, a hybrid of the two, which allows person-to-person interaction without excluding participation by those who cannot attend in-person), but one activity that has resumed live are their periodic, multi-day field trips. The Spring 2022 Field Trip, held this past weekend in southwestern Missouri, was my first chance to participate in one of these events, and I looked forward to seeing the remnant prairies, limestone, dolomite, and sandstones glades, and chert woodland that were all on tap while rubbing elbows with some of the state’s best botanists and naturalists—some old friends and others new acquaintances!
Day 1 – Schuette Prairie I wasn’t able to make it to the actual Day 1, so I left St. Louis early in the morning to meet the group at the first stop of the following day—Schuette Prairie in Polk Co. Named after my friend and former Cuivre River State Park naturalist, Bruce Schuette, this recently acquired limestone/dolomite prairie with a wet swale contains many plants more typical of glades such as Silphium terebinthinaceum (prairie dock), Echinacea paradoxa (yellow coneflower), and Rudbeckia missouriensis (Missouri coneflower). Of course, on this cold, overcast, early-April morning, it was far too early to see any of these highly charismatic plant species (although some of the more astute botanists were about to point them out by their barely emergent foliage, which was easy to find in the recently-burned northern half of the parcel). Abundantly in bloom, however, was the more subdued Erythronium mesochoreum (prairie fawn lily, midland fawnlily, prairie dogtooth violet). Distinguished from the similar E. albidum (white trout lily) that occurs abundantly further east by its narrower, folded, usually unmottled leaves, all but a few of which remained stubbornly closed against the stiff, cold wind.
Precious few other blooms were seen—I recall somebody mentioning they had seen Viola sororia (common violet), and I photographed this little clump of Fragaria virginica (wild strawberry) that will eventually provide food for one of the area’s many box turtles.
Fragaria virginica (wild strawberry).
Speaking of box turtles, I found this completely naked, bleached carapace and at first hoped that it might have been from an ornate box turtle (Terrapene ornata)—limited in Missouri to western prairies and a species I have not yet seen. However, the presence of a midline ridge and its relatively more domed shape suggest it is from a three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis).
Many other carapaces were seen (though none in such good shape), and in fact bones of many types were easy to find in the burned portion of the prairie. This disarticulated skull from what appears to be a young calf (Bos taurus) was perhaps the most impressive bone find, but we did also find a dried skeleton of a smaller individual. Being the lone entomologist of the group, I just had to turn over the carcass and search for beetles and managed to capture a skin beetle (family Trogidae) and one other small unidentified beetle (but, unfortunately, no Necrobia rufipes [red-legged ham beetle]).
Disarticulated bovid skull – probably a young calf (Bos taurus).
Rocky Barrens Conservation Area Later in the morning, the group caravaned to Rocky Barrens Conservation Area, a 281-acre area in Greene Co. featuring Mississippian limestone glades and site for the federally-endangered Physaria filiformis (Missouri bladder-pod). This plant, in the mustard family, is found only in four counties in southwest Missouri. The plants were readily found, but we were too early to see them in bloom—or anything else, for that matter. For me, however, the glade alone was still interesting, and I couldn’t help but take note of the similarities—and differences—between this limestone example and the dolomite glades south of St. Louis with which I am so much more familiar. Almost immediately, I noted the presence of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia), host for Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer)—surely one of North America’s most beautiful longhorned beetles! I didn’t see any frass piles at the base of any of the trees, the presence of which would indicate larval activity, but I’m sure the beetle is here. It would be interesting to come back during the season and look for it. While I didn’t find any signs of the beetle, I couldn’t miss the bright orange-yellow gold-eye lichens (Teloschistes chrysophthalmus) colonizing it’s branches.
Teloschistes chrysophthalmus (gold-eye lichen) on branch of living Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia).
Another tree that caught my interest was Celtis tenuifolia (dwarf hackberry). I see these small, gnarly versions of the genus in glades and other xeric habitats, and they always catch my interest because of the diversity of interesting woodboring beetles associated with it. As I looked at the trees, I noticed one small tree in particular that was the perfect stage of dead—branches brittle but bark mostly still intact with a little bit of peeling on the trunk revealing woodboring beetle larval galleries underneath! There were only a few emergence holes present—strong evidence that the tree was still infested and worth bringing back to put in an emergence box to trap the emerging adult beetles. With luck, I’ll be pinning a series of Agrilus ferrisi next winter!
Corry Flatrocks Conservation Area After lunch at a nearby city park, the group caravaned to Corry Flatrocks Consevation Area in Dade Co.—site of another federally-endangered plant, Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit). The sandstone glades at this site are among the largest in the area and, thus, host a large population of the plant. By this time of day, the sun had been out for awhile and the day had warmed considerably, so we hoped to see other flowering plants as well. Among the first that we encountered while walking towards the glade proper was Ranunculus fascicularis (early buttercup), distinguished from other “large-flowered buttercups” by its canescent (grayish due to hairiness) leaves with long and narrow lobes, their tips bluntly pointed or rounded. The dry, gladey habitat also distinguishes the species from the similar R. hispidus (hairy buttercup), which flowers at the same time but prefers moister habitats.
Ranunculus fascicularis (early buttercup).
On the glade proper, we quickly encountered tiny little saxifrages in bloom, which turned out to be Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage), restricted in Missouri to this part of the state (and thus with a high CC value of 9) and distinguished from the more widespread M. virginiensis (early saxifrage) by its small, compact stature. These first individuals we encountered had especially reddish-tinged flowers.
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage).
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage).
As soon as we reached the more open part of the glade with large expanses Of exposed rock, the group dropped to their hands and knees to find the diminutive plants we were looking for.
MONPS Field Trip participants looking for Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit).
The plants were not uncommon, even abundant, in shallow, sand-filled depressions in the rock. Nevertheless, careful observation was still required to see and recognize them. Fortunately, the plants were already in bloom, their tiny styles barely visible to the naked eye within the green, not-much-bigger, petalless flowers. Photographing these plants, and especially those in bloom, proved to be a task almost beyond the capabilities of the smart phones that most in the group were using (me included).
Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit).
Mononeuria minima (formerly Geocarpon minima) (tiny-Tim, earth fruit).
The glades stretched on for quite a distance, inviting further exploration. At the margins, white flowering trees were noticed, and moving closer they proved to be Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry, common serviceberry)—among the first we have seen open this spring. (I typically see the first blooms of these trees in the final days of March, at least around my home in east-central Missouri.) an even closer looked revealed tiny insects (also among the first insects I have seen active this spring) flying around and crawling about on the flowers. These proved to be parasitic hymenopterans—family ID is still pending, but I suspect they will prove to be a species in one of the many families of “microhymenopterans” that are egg parasitoids. I am not sure whether they were visiting the flowers as pollinators (which behavior I am not aware of) or in hopes of encountering other pollinators which could potentially serve as hosts—a subject with which I will need to follow up.
Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry, common serviceberry) with numerous tiny parasitic wasps (family undetermined).
Near the back end of the glade, we encountered a few more Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage), these having more typical white flowers in perfect peak bloom.
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) with white flowers.
Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) with white flowers.
Also in that part of the glade we found a few scattered individuals of Selenia aurea (golden selenia). While not quite as conservative as M. texana (CC value = 6), it has a similar range in the U.S. and in Missouri is also restricted to a handful of counties in the southwestern part of the state. The plant is known to occur in large colonies (which I have seen at nearby Corry Branch Glade)—its brilliant yellow flowers forming a spectacular display.
Selenia aurea (golden selenia).
To this point, the only insect I had seen besides the microhymenopterans was a skin beetle (family Trogidae), which I found when I kicked over some dried mammal scats. However, on the way back to the cars we finally encountered an insect large enough in size and striking enough in appearance to pique the interest of not just me but the group as a whole—a large caterpillar feeding on the foliage of Penstemon digitalis (smooth beard-tongue). It’s appearance—dark with longitudinal yellow stripes and blue spotting—immediately called to mind one of the tiger moths (formerly Arctiidae, now a subfamily in the Erebidae), specifically the genus Haploa (commonly called haploa moths). A little detective work on BugGuide comparing photos and recorded host plants narrowed the likely choice to H. confusa (confused haploa moth).
Haploa sp. prob. confusa (confused haploa moth) caterpillar feeding on foliage of Penstemon digitalis (smooth beard-tongue).
Day 2 – Lead Mines Conservation Area The final day of the MONPS Field Trip featured a morning trip to Lead Mine Conservation Area in Dallas Co. Of particular interest to the group were several parcels within the area designated as Niangua River Hills Natural Area and featuring a diversity of habitats including dolomite glades, chert woodlands, and calcareous wet meadows (fens). Most in the group visited the northern parcel to see the dolomite glades; however, a few of us—primarily from St. Louis and well-familiar with dolomite glades—opted to visit the smaller southern unit of the natural area to see the fen and riparian woodland we needs to pass through to get there. It was a much warmer morning than yesterday, though still chilly starting out, so blooms were sparse as we hiked the woodland trail searching for any hint of color. At one point, someone noticed a shrub a bit off the trail with large, reddish pink flowers—the color seeming a bit unexpected for the situation. Bushwhacking toward it, we realized it was Chaenomelesspeciosa (common flowering quince), a common, ornamental non-native plant that rarely—but obviously sometimes—escapes cultivation. While the group looked at the plant, I saw my first insect of the day—Paraulacizes irrorata (speckled sharpshooter), one of our largest and most recognizable leafhoppers, sitting head-down on the stem of a small sapling.
Paraulacizes irrorata (speckled sharpshooter).
Among the first native blooms we saw was Ranunculus hispidus (hairy buttercup). Though similarly “large-flowered” as R. fascicularis (early buttercup), it differs by its sprawling growth habit, differently shaped-leaves, and preference for moist habitats. Buttercups are a favorite flower host for jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) in the genus Acmaeodera, and one species —A. tubulus—is among our earliest-emerging beetles in the spring, so I checked each buttercup flower that I saw hoping to see these little beetles signaling the beginning of insect activity for the season. Sadly, none were seen.
Ranunculus hispidus (hairy buttercup).
At last we reached the fen—a large open area on the toe-slopes of the adjacent hillside where water draining through the underlying strata emerged to the surface to maintain a continually wet environment. The fen here is special, as two species of Cyprepedium (lady’s slipper orchids) are know to occur in the fen (and in fact, all four of the state’s Cyprepedium spp. can be found with Lead Mine Conservation Area). At this early date, the orchids would not be anywhere close to blooming; however, the group looked for evidence of their presence, walking gingerly through the fen so as to avoid inadvertently stepping upon any emergent foliage. No putative clumps were found, but already in my mind I’m thinking a mid-May trip back to the fen might be warranted! Unlike the orchids, Castilleja coccinea (Indian paintbrush) was abundantly evident throughout the fen, with an occasional plant almost ready to burst forth their scarlet blooms. Senescent flower stems of composites, presumably Rudbeckia, were also seen throughout the glade, which, combined with the abundance of Castilleja, created the promise of a stunning early-summer display across the fen.
Castilleja coccinea (Indian paintbrush).
During our time in the fen, two species of butterflies were seen flitting about the herbaceous vegetation: tiny blue Celastrina ladon (spring azure), and one of the dustywing skippers in the genus Erynnis. The former were impossible to photograph due to their persistent flitting and skittish behavior, and the latter almost were as well. Only when I locked the focus on a preset 2x zoom and fired shots in rapid succession while moving the smartphone ever closer to the subject did I manage this one imperfect but passable photograph of the last one I tried. The genus Erynnis is diverse and notoriously difficult to identify, and my expertise with skippers and butterflies pales compared to my skills with beetles, so the ID will have to remain Erynnis sp. until a more authoritative opinion is offered. [Edit 4/6/22, 11:38 am: According to my lepidopterist friend Phillip Koenig, Erynnis horatius and E. juvenalis both fly in early spring, and they cannot be reliably separated from the dorsal side. Erynnis juvenalis has one or two dots on the ventral hind wing that E. horatius lacks and only flies in the early spring, while E. horatius can be seen through the summer. If only I could turn the picture over to see what it looks like on the ventral side!]
Erynnis horatio or E. juvenalis (Horatio’s or Junenale’s duskywing) in fen habitat.
Returning through the riparian woodlands after visiting the fen, the day had warmed considerably, and numerous flowers not seen earlier were suddenly in full bloom. These included Erythronium mesochorium (prairie fawn lily midland fawnlily, prairie dogtooth violet)—the same species we saw yesterday so reluctantly in bloom at Schuette Prairie. Most were of the familiar form with unmottled leaves; however, we found one individual with notably mottled leaves that resembled those of E. albidum (white dogtooth violet) (1st photo). Nevertheless, the leaves were still narrower than that species and folded, and the plant was growing a mere 12” from another individual with no trace of mottling (2nd photo).
Claytonia virginca (spring beauty) was also blooming in abundance as we took the trail back. I am always amazed at the variability seen in the flowers of this species—from pure white to vividly pink-striped to pink at the tips. This especially vivid pink individual was about as pink as they come.
Claytonia virginca (spring beauty)—an especially vivid pink example.
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot) also was popping up regularly. We had seen isolated plants sitting the trailsides when we first part through—their flowers tightly folded in stubborn response to the chilly morning temperatures. By early afternoon, however, they were spread wide open as invitation to any of the flying insects that had surely also been awakened by the warmer temperatures of the afternoon. While most were seen as isolated individuals, a particularly idyllic clump captured our attention, almost begging “photograph me!”
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
With that, we rejoined the main group to recount the days experiences and cement new relationships before heading back towards our respective home areas.
Long Ridge Conservation Area On the way back home, I decided to check out this conservation area in Franklin Co., which I’ve never visited before. The afternoon had gotten quite warm, so I reasoned that maybe today would be the day when insects start coming out in abundance. I was right! As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum) in full bloom, and walking up to it I immediately saw an abundance of bees and small beetles all over the flowers. The latter turned out to be Orsodacne atra (a leaf beetle) and Ischnomera ruficollis (rednecked false blister beetles).
Orsodacne atra (leaf beetle) on flowers of Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum).
Orsodacne atra (leaf beetle) mating pair on flowers of Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum).
Ischnomera ruficollis (rednecked false blister beetle) mating pair on flowers of Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum).
Inside the woods along the Blue Trail, there were the usual suspects in bloom—Claytonia virginica (spring beauty), Cardamine concatenata (toothwort), Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes) and Ranunculus hispidus (hairy buttercups).
Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes).
Eventually I happened upon an Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry) in full bloom. There were more O. atra and I. ruficollis on the flowers (though not so many as on the Mexican plum), along with a Mecaphesa sp. crab spider that had caught and was feeding on a male Andrena carlini (Carlin’s mining bee)*.
Mecaphesa sp. crab spider with male Andrena carlini (Carlin’s mining bee) prey on flowers of Amelanchier arborea (downy serviceberry). *Bee ID by Mike Arduser.
On the back third of the trail, I found two fallen branches under a Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak) that had been pruned by longhorned beetles—presumably Anelaphus villosus. At the end of the trail I found a third such branch of the same species of oak. All three will be placed in an emergence box, and hopefully the culprits will emerge as adults.
Anelaphus villosus-pruned branches of Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak)—both collected under the same tree.
This week’s destination for the WGNSS Botany Group outing was St. Joe State Park, where the western portion of the Bicyle/Hiking Trail runs along a prime example of dry post oak woodland. Such woodlands were common in Missouri during pre-settlement times but have been largely eliminated from the present-day landscape due to incompatible land management practices, including fire suppression. Post oak woodlands depend upon periodic fires to maintain an open canopy, allowing a rich ground layer of native grasses and forbs to flourish in the abundant sunlight. In pre-settlement times, this happened naturally as a result of lightning strikes; however, remnant post oak woodlands exist today largely as a result of active landscape management including the use of prescribed burns and selective thinning. Evidence of these practices was easy to find in this remarkably restored example of an original post oak woodland.
Prescribed burns help to maintain an open canopy and a rich herbaceous ground layer.
Selective girdling optimizes species composition while minimizing ground layer disturbance.
At the end of January, there is still a lot of winter left to endure—far too early to be thinking about the still-distant-spring even at our “middlin’ latitudes.” Nevertheless, even at this early date, the buds of Ulmus rubra (slippery elm) are noticeably swollen. (I’ve always felt “slippery” was a misnomer for this species. I know it refers to the slippery texture of the inner bark when chewed, but the leaves are rough, and the twigs are rough, and the buds are rough as well—and who even does that [chews the inner bark] anymore?!) It is this roughness to the leaves that most easily distinguishes U. rubra from the similar U. americana (American elm), but during winter it’s fuzzy, rusty-red buds provide the clue instead. If one has a pocketknife, a slice into the bark to look for alternating light/dark layers (the absence of which signifies U. rubra) can also be used.
Ulmus rubra (slippery elm).
The rich ground layer of a post oak woodland dazzles during spring and summer, the temporal sequence of floral displays belying the diversity that produces it. This diversity does not disappear during the winter, nor does the evidence of it—it merely expresses itself in different form. To recognize the plants that are there, one must train their eyes to see these different versions of them. Bright yellow flowers are replaced by dry seed boxes… fleshy green leaves with purple ball inflorescences are replaced by naked stems with dehiscent pods… delicate white petals are replaced by prickly pods. The ability to recognize the elements of a landscape at any moment—not just at their most beautiful—makes it easier to enjoy the landscape itself at any moment. Following are some of the plants we saw, no doubt distinctive when in bloom, but also recognizable when not if one knows what to look for.
Dasistoma macrophylla (mullein foxglove).
Anemone virginiana (tall thimbleweed).
Manfreda virginica (formerly Aloe virginica—false aloe, rattlesnake master, Virginia agave).
Dioscorea villosa (wolf yam).
Asclepias purpurascens (purple milkweed).
During the previous week’s outing at Hawn State Park, the group spent a fair amount of time distinguishing Missouri’s five species of Betulaceae—all of which can be found growing together along the banks of Pickle Creek. One is not likely to see three of them along the margins of a dry post oak woodland, but the two remaining—Corylus americana (American hazelnut) and Ostrya virginiana (American hop hornbeam), both much more tolerant of drier situations—were seen in abundance. These two species also happen to be the two that are most often confused with each other—especially during winter, giving the group another opportunity to study their subtle differences. Both develop male catkins during the winter, but those of C. americana tend to be larger, lighter in color, and frequently occurring singly along the branch. The winter twigs are a bit more distinctive—with tiny hairs and rounded buds in the former, versus hairless with pointed buds in the latter. Of course, of the two, only O. virginiana produces the distinctive hops-like fruits that often persist into the winter, so their presence immediately identifies any plant possessing them.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) (L) versus Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – male catkins.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) (L) versus Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – winter buds.
Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – last season’s fruit.
Direct comparisons of winter twigs proves to be a useful identification technique for other similar species pairs—even those in the same genus. Acer saccharum (sugar maple) and A. rubrum (red maple) often grow in close proximity and are similar enough to be frequently confused. When twigs of the two are placed next to each other, however, the differences are apparent. Color alone—A. rubrum usually exhibiting a reddish tinge to the twigs and buds—is not always diagnostic, and both species have what could be called pointed buds. Touch the tips, however—the buds of A. saccharum are sharp enough to prick the finger, while those of A. rubrum are blunted just enough to avoid feeling the prick.
Along the length of the trail, I noted an abundance of dry, persistent flower stalks of Hydrangea arborescens (American hydrangea) colonizing the bordering rock ledges. Normally found in moist (and frequently inaccessible) situations, its presence in a dry post oak woodland suggests drainage through the layers of dolomite underneath the woodland reaches the surface in these exposed toe-slopes, keeping them persistently moist. While the promised floral display in June is reason enough to return, my interest in woodboring beetles provides additional motivation, as its flowers are a favorite of a diverse group of woodboring beetles call flower longhorns (subfamily Lepturinae)—some of which having been associated only with this plant. Time to mark the calendar!
Members of the WGNSS Botany Group (L–R): Keith Woodyard, Eileen & Tom Buescher, Alan Brandt (hidden), John Oliver, Kathy Thiele (hidden), Burt Noll, Michael Laschober, Pete Kozich.
Even though I ended the bait trapping season last weekend, I still plan to get out on a weekly basis to explore some areas that I haven’t been able to visit yet this season. Tops on the list for me is Hughes Mountain Natural Area, an exposed rhyolite dome in the St. Francois Mountains that features dry oak-hickory woodlands surrounding xeric igneous glades.
Hughes Mountain summit.
The main thing I was hoping to see was Tragidion coquus, a spectacular longhorned beetle that seems common in some areas (e.g., Texas) but is rarely seen in Missouri. I saw one here three years ago in late September at the woodland/glade interface, and a recent conversation with fellow cerambyciphile Dan Heffern, who mentioned that they seem to prefer recently burned oak woodlands, makes me think that is why I saw it here (the surrounding woodlands are managed with periodic prescribed burns to stave off woody encroachment of the glade proper).
Columnar fracturing of rhyolite dome.
Eastern red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana) on the glade.
I hiked along the trail through the forest leading to the main glade, noting an abundance of many-rayed aster (Symphyotrichum anomalum) in bloom and a few persisting blooms on now-rank plants of slender false foxglove (Agalinis tenuifolia).
Many-rayed aster (Symphyotrichum anomalum). Note the photobombing ambush bug (Phymatodes sp.) on the stem in the lower left corner.
Slender false foxglove (Agalinis tenuifolia).
Slender false foxglove (Agalinis tenuifolia).
Common dittany (Cunila origanoides).
After reaching the main glade, I stayed along the interface around its entire perimeter, hoping to see one of the beetles either resting on foliage or in flight. It was a good day to look—sunny and relatively warm, but no beetles were seen. In fact, even though we haven’t yet had any frost, there was not a lot of insect activity in general with the exception of marvelously cryptic lichen grasshoppers (Trimerotropis saxatilis), which were common on the glade along with a variety of other grasshoppers.
The remarkably cryptic lichen grasshopper (Trimerotropis saxatilis).
There was also little blooming on the glade, which made the chances of seeing the beetle even lower since they are known to be attracted to flowers such as thoroughwort (Eupatorium spp.) and blazingstar (Liatris spp.). I did find a few persisting blooms of the hot-pink largeflower fameflower (Phemeranthus calycinus), but most other plants were well past bloom. Eventually I completed the walk around the glade perimeter and worked my way back.
At one point, I found a clump of small shagbark hickories (Carya ovata) that were oozing sap at several points along the main trunks and noted a variety of insects feeding at the sap flows. I checked carefully, thinking that they might include T. coquus, but none were seen—just flies, butterflies, and a wheel bug assassin bug (Arilus cristatus). Shortly afterwards, I reached the car—my bottles empty but my soul nourished by another day surrounded by nature.
An abnormal fall-blooming serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea).
Bluff tops of Salt Lick Point Land & Water Reserve.
Today the WGNSS Botany Group ventured into Illinois for its Monday field trip to explore the limestone bluffs and hilltop prairies of Salt Lick Point Land & Water Reserve. This being the first day of autumn, goldenrods and other fall-blooming plants in the great family Asteraceae were expected to dominate the flora, which indeed was the case. Along the steep, rocky trail leading up to the prairies, Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod) and S. ulmifolia (elmleaf goldenrod) bloomed together in the dry-mesic deciduous forest. The former is a near-Missouri specialty, extending just barely into nearby portions of four adjacent states, and can be distinguished by its relatively larger flowers on columnar inflorescences with recurved involucral bracts and its relatively broad leaves with distinct teeth.
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
As we walked the trail, I heard several cicadas singing, starting with Megatibicen pronotalispronotalis (Walker’s annual cicada) near the bottom and Neotibicen robinsonianus (Robinson’s annual cicada) as we ascended, the latter eventually joined also N. lyricens (lyric cicada). Carcasses of the latter two were also seen along the trail (confirming my IDs based on their songs), and as we reached the second of three significant hilltop prairie remnants Kathy found a live male M. pronotalis in the low vegetation. It’s noisy, rattling alarm screeching as I held it attracted a crowd of gawkers within the group and a flurry of photographs before I secured the specimen in a pill bottle and recorded the location. Like most cicadas, only the males are capable of making sound, which they do by rapidly expanding and contracting hard membranes called tymbals that reside under distinctive plates found on the venter at the base of the abdomen.
Goldenrods were blooming profusely in the prairie, attracting numerous insects including Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moths)—a mimic of netwinged beetles in the genus Lycus.
Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moths) on flowers of Solidagoulmifolia (elmleaf goldenrod).
As the trail continued along the blufftops, we found a true bluff specialty—Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod). Like S. buckleyi, this species also is very nearly a Missouri endemic and is found exclusively on or very near limestone/dolomite bluffs. It’s habitat and very wide, toothed leaves on short petioles easily distinguish this species from other goldenrods.
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
In the interface between the dry-mesic deciduous forest and another hilltop prairie, we saw a nice patch of Agalinis tenuifolia (slender false foxglove), distinguished by its thin, branching stems, opposite, linear leaves with long, thin pedicels, and small flowers with upper lip arching over and enclosing the stamens.
Agalinis tenuifolia (slender false foxglove).
Agalinis tenuifolia (slender false foxglove).
As I photographed the plant, I heard others in the group on the prairie saying “We need an entomologist,” and as I approached the group I found them surrounding a Brickellia eupatorioides (false boneset) hosting two individuals of the large, black planthopper, Poblicia fulginosa. Although normally very wary, both individuals cooperated nicely for photos, and I succeeded in capturing a photo showing the bright red markings on their abdomen in obvious contrast to the otherwise dark, somber coloration of the insect. In fact, the dorsal portion of the abdomen is entirely bright red, presumably serving a “flash coloration” function similar to the brightly colored abdomen of jewel beetles or hind wings of underwing moths to confuse potential predators by its high visibility in flight and sudden disappearance when the insect lands and folds its wings over the abdomen.
Poblicia fulginosa on Brickellia eupatorioides (false boneset).
As we continued past the hilltop prairie, several individuals of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia or woolly buckthorn) were found along the dry ridgetop trail. Whenever I see S. lanuginosum, I look for signs of Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer)—arguably North America’s most beautiful longhorned beetle. No signs were seen at the first tree, but at the second the telltale frass (digested sawdust ejected by the larvae that bore through the main roots of living trees) was easily spotted at the base of the trunk. This beetle is distributed across the southeastern and south-central U.S. wherever it’s host can be found, occurring reliably as far north as the dolomite glades south of St. Louis; however, I am unaware of any records of this beetle from Illinois.
Frass at trunk base of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia or woolly buckthorn) indicating active infestation by Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer).
After a long, steep, rocky descent back down, we found many more S. drummondii perched poetically on the vertical limestone bluff face at the bottom.
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
Solidago drummondii (bluff or Drummond’s goldenrod).
The walk back to the parking lot gave us the opportunity to study several additional fall-blooming asters including Solidago altissimum (tall goldenrod), S. gigantea (giant goldenrod), Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke), and Smallanthia uvedalia (bearsfoot). While H. tuberosus is easily recognized by gestalt, John Oliver pointed out the main identifying characters that distinguish the species from the mutitude of other sunflowers such as leaves becoming alternate at the upper reaches of the stem, the rough, scabrous stem, and the basal “wings” on the distal portion of the leaf petioles, particularly the lower leaves.
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Helianthus tuberosus (Jerusalem artichoke).
Smallanthia uvedalia, on the other hand, is much less common but immediately recognizable by its unique flower heads with few, well-spaced ray florets and large, maple-like leaves.
Continuing hot and very muggy during the last week, and today it was already in the low 90s by the time I got into the field a little before noon. Silphium terebinthinaceum (prairie dock) and old Solidago nemoralis (field goldenrod) are are in full bloom across the glade, and I noticed pre-flowering plants of what must be a different goldenrod species and a different blazing star. I suspect they will be in full bloom by the time I check the traps again at the end of next week. The plant of the day, however, was Agalinis skinneriana (pale false foxglove), not a true foxglove but rather a member of the family Orobanchaceae. Midwestern gerardia is another common name for the species, and like other members of the family it is a hemiparasitic annual forb.
Agalinis skinneriana (pale false foxglove).
This plant is relatively uncommon, both in Missouri, being found primarily in glades, upland prairies, and in the few other states in which it is found, and though I’ve not noticed this plant here previously I found at least a few individuals in both the east and the west parcels. The upward-facing flowers are a key attribute for identification in the field. The two upper corolla lobes are spreading to reflexed, and the plants are relatively slender, being fewer-branched and less bushy than the more common A. tenuifoliaand A. gattingeri.
Beetles In The Bush 