Lying in the heart of the St. Francois Mountains, Johnson Mountain—like many of the other remnant peaks that form the core of this ancient volcanic system—features igneous glades on the rhyolite exposures at its summit and on its southwestern-facing slopes. While it has not been given any special wilderness designation within the Mark Twain National Forest, the U.S. Forest Service has restricted access in recent years due to increasing damage by ATVs and implemented management practices such as controlled burns to help restore these fragile glades to their presettlement extent and character. Thanks to WGNSS member Casey Galvan, who was able to gain access to these glades with the help of MDC Biologist Josh Wibbenmeyer, who ferried several members of the WGNSS Nature Photography Group up to the summit to explore its glades.
The burn a few years ago at the summit was “controlled” in name only—what had been open woodland extending down the southwest-facing slope was now oak/sumac scrub with numerous oak and pine cadavers standing starkly above the brush with tiny fragments of glade habitat on and around the larger rock exposures. It will take repeated burns and herbicide treatments to further reduce woody encroachment and allow expansion of grasses and forbs beyond their tiny toeholds.
Of course, as an entomologist—and one with special interest in beetles associated with woody plants at that, the cadavers dotting the landscape, many with the bark of their trunks loose and peeling, was an instant attention-getter. Navigating through the scrub on rocky ground was tricky, but I made it to one of the trees (Quercus stellata, post oak), peeled back a chunk of bark and saw two powderpost beetles (family Bostrichidae) belonging to the genus Lichenophanes. While there is a very common species in this genus in Missouri (Lichenophanes bicornis)—usually encountered at lights, these did not strike me as that species due to their smaller size and darker coloration, and photographing one of them at 2–2.5× revealed its true identity as the much less commonly encountered L. armiger. This species further differs from L. bicornis by its less distinctly raised elytral costae and tufts of setae raised and hair-like rather than flattened and scale-like. I have only encountered this species a few times, all at lights, so finding and photographing it in a more natural setting was a nice opportunity. While I photographed the individual, I also noticed a tiny red mite actively crawling about the surface of the beetle (seen at the base of the elytra in the photo below). This was likely not a parasitic mite, but rather a phonetic one—i.e., using the beetle only as a means of transport for its own dispersal.
Lichenophanesarmiger under loose trunk bark on trunk of dead Quercus stellata (post oak).
With one success already in hand, I immediately looked for other cadavers with bark to peel in search of beetles or other insects of interest. The second tree I approached seemed to just such, as I noticed a very tiny flat bug (family Aradidae) on the underside of the bark. However, as I positioned the lens over the subject, something about it didn’t look quite right, and zooming in closer revealed the bug, itself, to be a cadaver—partials remnants of a once-living individual that spent its last moments hunkered down under the loose bark. As often is the case when success come quickly, no amount of bark peeling over the next hour or so revealed beetles or other insects of any kind. With each fruitless effort, my attention increasingly wandered toward the foliage of other plants, and I eventually noticed a few patches of Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaf goldenrod) beginning to bloom. Goldenrods are famously attractive to insects of many types, and the appearance of goldenrod in the landscape is a sure sign that summer has arrived in earnest. Most of the plants were in earlier stages of flowering, and insects observed visiting them were mostly the dreadfully pedestrian European honey bee (Apis mellifera). At one point, I noticed a few plants on which the flowers had not only peaked but were in early fruit development. While early-stage frutescences rarely attract pollinators, I noticed something on them anyway, and a closer look revealed them to be Missouri’s smallest representative of the family Coreidae (leaf-footed bugs), Merocoris distinctus. I don’t encounter this species very often—usually picking up an odd individual or two while sweeping herbaceous vegetation in high-quality prairies, so seeing half a dozen individuals congregating on a few plants was an unusual occurrence for me. Merocoris distinctus and its congeners in other areas are distinctive in their small size but chunky form and with the hind tibiae not expanded and flattened (thus, defying the family’s common name). Instead, their femora are robust and armed with small spines that once can imagine must serve some anti-predatory function. Their presence of fading flowers with developing fruits is logical, however, as members of this family are widely known to feed on the developing seeds and fruits of a variety of plants. Once again, I had the chance to photograph a seldom seen insect species engaging in natural behavior, and the presence of multiple individuals meant that I could continue my attempts with the skittish and flighty adults until, ultimately, I succeeded.
Merocoris distinctus on flower of Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaf goldenrod).
After a couple of hours, we went back down the mountain a short distance to explore another glade that we’d seen on the way up. The core remnant was larger than what we’d seen up top due to the larger expanse of exposed rhyolite, and we immediately noticed one of the classic icons of igneous glades in Missouri—Trimerotropis saxitilis (lichen grasshopper). I’ve seen these beautiful grasshoppers—gorgeously cloaked in mottled green and black to match the lichen-encrusted rocks on which they sit—on numerous occasions, but I am nevertheless always tempted to photograph them whenever I see them and was preparing to do just that when Josh called out one of the only things that could surpass it in priority—tiger beetle! I knew it most likely was Cicindelidia rufiventris (red-bellied tiger beetle), and carefully approaching revealed this to be the case due to its dark dorsal surface but absence of a sutural row of spots on each elytron and slightly more gracile form that distinguish this species from its much more commonly encountered congener C. punctulata (punctured tiger beetle). This is another species that seems to prefer not only igneous glades but also the limestone/dolomite glades that dot the Ozark Highlands in the southern two-thirds of Missouri. I have photographed it on several occasions but nevertheless snapped a few shots while it gave a classic warm-day demonstration of thermoregulatory behaviors called “stilting” (standing tall on its front legs to raise its body above the thin layer of superheated air immediately above the rock) and “sun-facing” (facing directly toward the sun to minimize the amount of body area exposed to its direct rays).
Cicindelidia rufiventris (red-bellied tiger beetle) “stilting” and “sun-facing” on rhyolite exposure.
A 2-track leading from the glade led to what we hoped would be a renovated glade that was even more extensive, but despite the recent burns the area was still thickly choked with oak/sumac scrub that proved a challenge even to navigate, much less provide open space for glade-restricted plants and their insect associates. It was well past noon, so we regrouped to discuss our next move and decided to go in to town for lunch and then explore nearby Taum Sauk State Park. Casey had in the past mentioned a water pan where several interesting plants could be found, while I knew of a location where Platanthera ciliaris (yellow fringed orchid—the flowers of which are actually a beautiful shade of orange) should be getting close to flowering and that we could check their progress for planned photographs in the coming weeks. Striking stands of Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star) greeted us at the parking lot and portended the even more dazzling displays that would see in many places throughout the park.
Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star).
Our first foray was to the water pan near the high point, and even before reaching it the bright purple of the dense stand of L. pycnostachya colonizing it could be seen glowing through the forest understory. Despite having seen this plant in many places, primarily in prairies and along roadsides, I have never witnessed such a striking mass display of the flowers in peak bloom!
Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star) in water pan atop igneous bedrock in dry oak/hickory forest.
Numerous butterflies flitted amongst the tall purple inflorescences gracefully swaying in the gentle beeezes, the largest and most conspicuous being Speyeria cybele (great spangled fritillary), Papilio troilus (spicebush swallowtail), and a strikingly fresh Papilio glaucus (tiger swallowtail) who danced tantalizingly close around the flowers as if inviting photographs.
Papilio glaucus (tiger swallowtail)
Liatris pycnostachya was not the only purple(ish)-flowered plant colonizing the water pan—Rhexia virginica (winged-stemmed meadow beauty), a denizen of moist acidic habitats, colonized the wetter areas of the water pan, its bright yellow, banana-shaped anthers contrasting nicely with its vivid purple-pink petals.
Rhexia virginica (winged-stemmed meadow beauty).
We then headed out in search of the stand of orchids (which I photographed in magnificent peak bloom last year in early August). Though more common in the southeastern U.S., in Missouri it is extremely rare, and finding the site entailed considerable off-trail bushwhacking to reach the site. At this time of year, before the plants have begun to bloom, we expected finding them would be quite difficult, but to our surprise we found numerous plants with inflorescences well developed and exhibiting tight buds. Some plants even were even beginning to develop color in the buds, and we found a single plant with two open flowers—surely among the earliest first-flower dates for the species in Missouri. Seeing this, we expect peak bloom in the next two to three weeks, and we plan to return to more fully photograph them in all their glory at that time.
Platanthera ciliaris (yellow fringed orchid).
We were able to enjoy slightly easier hiking back in the trail for a short time, during which we saw a robber fly (family Asilidae) posing nicely (and cooperatively) on a rock where David was able to photograph it. I tried to do the same, but it suddenly flew to a nearby stem where, fortunately, it settled back down and allowed me to get close enough for a few photos. The photographs enabled me to not only identify it as a female Efferia aestuans (northern hammertail) but also the reason for its relative cooperativeness—it had captured and was feeding on a much tinier fly!
Efferia aestuans (northern hammertail).
Our off trail adventures resumed quickly, however, when we decided to look for the endangered Asclepias meadii (Mead’s milkweed) in the open woodlands where it has been seen in the past. Hiking through the rough, igneous glades to get to the woodlands was itself difficult, and then searching the dense herbaceous layer of the woodlands for plants no longer in flower even more so. Ultimately, we were not successful in finding the plants, but our efforts were not unrewarded—dense stands of Phemeranthus calycinus (fame flower) with their charming hot-pink flowers daintily dotted the rhyolite exposures, and we saw several Cecropterus lyciades (hoary edge) skippers (family Hesperiidae) visiting the flowers of L. pycnostachya. This very uncommon butterfly resembles the much more commonly encountered Epargyreus clarus (silver-spotted skipper), but it is smaller and has a diffuse frosty spot reaching the edge of the hindwing. The vistas afforded from the glades at Taum Sauk are also among the best that I have seen in Missouri, especially when blazingstar is in full bloom.
Cecropterus lyciades (hoary edge) skippers on flowers of Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazingstar).
By this time it was late afternoon, and we bushwhacked our way back to the trail. We had a difficult choice to make—turning right meant only about a mile of hiking back to the car; turning left meant having a chance to see the head of Mina Sauk Falls but perhaps closer to two even more difficult miles of hiking back to the car. We chose left! I can’t say it wasn’t worth it, because the chance to take the boots off and soak my legs in the cool water behind the shade of a large boulder was pure enjoyment, but two miles of rough hiking up the steep ascent felt like a Herculean effort—only the promise of water (and ice cream in town!) allowed me to keep the legs moving. Such times may be difficult in the moment but as memories become cherished. I’m already having fond memories of that final ascent!
St. Francois Mountains vista from igneous glades near Mina Sauk Falls.
March has been incredibly warm in the St. Louis area, particularly during the second half in which temperatures exceeded 80°F on seven of 12 days and 90°F twice! As one would expect, such unusually warm conditions played havoc with the first wave of early spring bloomers, particularly the conspicuously flowering understory trees that normally follow a predictable sequence of bloom beginning with Lindera benzoin (spicebush—family Lauraceae) in early to mid-March, Prunus mexicana/americana (Mexican/American plum—family Rosaceae) and Amelanchier arborea (common serviceberry—family Rosaceae) in mid- to late March, Sassafras albidum (sassafras —family Lauraceae) and Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud—family Fabaceae) in late March to early April, and — the zenith of native blooming understory trees — Cornus florida (flowering dogwood—family Cornaceae) in early to mid-April. Instead of a tightly choreographed sequence of mass blooms, we instead witnessed haphazard displays beginning earlier than normal and progressing sporadically throughout late March, with many trees knocked out of bloom by quite cold temperatures during several nights.
Nevertheless, it was not the disappointing displays of any of the above species that the group came to Little Lost Creek to see, but instead a much less commonly encountered understory tree with even less conspicuous blossoms—Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood). One of only two Missouri representatives of the Family Thymelaeaceae, commonly called “stringbarks,” this species is found in scattered locations across the Missouri Ozarks and has been found reliably blooming in early April along Little Lost Creek.
WGNSS Botany Group at Little Lost Creek. Photo by Kathy Bildner.
To get to the low, moist areas where D. palustris grows, however, we needed to hike the two-track across the old fields and rather disturbed adjacent forests where some of the more typical spring-flowering trees were seen. Sassafras was perhaps the least impacted by the crazy spring temperature, with most trees reliably in bloom.
Sassafras albidum (sassafras). Photo by Ted MacRae.
Ever the entomologist, I couldn’t help examining some of the flowers more closely in search of insects, eventually finding the aptly-named Ischnomera ruficollis (red-necked false blister beetle—family Oedemeridae), a frequent visitor to a variety of flowers.
Photo 3. Ischnomera ruficollis (red-necked false blister beetle) on flowers of Sassafras albidum (sassafras). Photo by Ted MacRae.
The patch of American plum along the two-track that I have seen blooming profusely in years past and had hope to photograph was, disappointingly, well past bloom. However, a fine specimen that I take to be Mexican plum was found blooming profusely along a fence line nearer to the beginning of the two-track. Mexican and American plums can be difficult to distinguish, but the former usually grows as anindividual tree while the latter tends to form clonal thickets with multiple stems arising from a single parental plant.
Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum). Photo by Ted MacRae.
Serviceberry also should have been in bloom across the upland understory but was limited instead to just a few scattered trees still bearing flowers. One fine specimen, however, was found near the patch of American plum that was covered in near-perfect blossoms that simply begged to be photographed.
Amelanchier arborea (common serviceberry). Photo by Ted MacRae.
Veering into upland forests to approach the descent down into the valley, we saw some of the usual spring ephemerals and other plants that, despite not generally considered ephemerals, were nonetheless blooming quite early. Like the early-flowering trees, the spring ephemerals were impacted by the unusually warm March temperatures, with many of the species blooming far earlier than normal and now already fading despite the still-within-March date. Claytonia virginica (spring beauty—family Montiaceae, formerly Portulacaceae) is perhaps the best known ephemeral and, despite its commonness, is always a treat to see popping up in the woodlands after a long winter. The corolla color of this species is quite variable, with some being nearly white with barely perceptible venation, ranging to specimens with highly pronounced, vivid, pink venation.
Claytonia virginica (spring beauty). Photo by Ted MacRae.
Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes—family Asteraceae), normally an April/May bloomer, also was in flower in the relatively dry, rocky forests before the descent into the valley. Missouri populations of this species were previously known as A. plantaginifolia, means “leaves of Plantain” and indeed the basal leaves do look like those of the genus Plantago—a character that distinguishes them from the single-veined leaves of Missouri’s only other species in the genus, A. neglecta (field pussytoes).
Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes). Photo by Ted MacRae.
The descent into the valley is rather steep and precarious, especially for those of us who are “getting long in tooth” and needed to pick our way slowly down the rocky trail. The effort, however, was worth it as even before reaching the valley we began seeing leatherwood trees in bloom in the increasingly moist woodlands approaching the valley. The plants were, if anything, slightly past peak bloom, but not to the point that it made it difficult to find fresh examples of the instantly-recognizable flowers in clusters of 2–4 accompanying newly emerging leaves. More unusual than conspicuous with its small pendulous flowers surrounded by rusty woolly bracts, the species is distinguished from its even rarer congener, D. decipiens (upland leatherwood) by the small but discernible stalks and moist rather than upland habitat.
Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood). Photo by Ted MacRae.
Several other botanical treasures awaited the group in the moist forests along Little Lost Creek besides leatherwood. One of these was very early blooming examples of Viola eriocarpa (smooth yellow violet—family Violaceae). This denizen of moist forests is often considered a smooth-leaved variety of V. pubescens (yellow violet) or even a synonym, and indeed the degree of “pubescentness” can be variable, making it sometimes difficult to distinguish a given plant.
Viola eriocarpa (smooth yellow violet). Photo by Kathy Bildner.
Another deep, moist, rich woods resident the group saw was the always-charming-to-see Collinsia verna (spring blue-eyed Mary—family Plantaginaceae). Unusually, this bona fide spring ephemeral is one of the few Missouri wildflowers that is truly “blue.” Equally unusual, its distribution is mainly in the Upper Midwest but in Missouri is apparently concentrated across the middle latitudes of the state.
Collinsia verna (spring blue-eyed Mary). Photo by Kathy Bildner.
[Warning: entomological geekery ahead!]
I, myself, missed these botanical finds due to my discovery immediately upon reaching the valley of a large oak tree with a dark, wet stain of flowing sap on its trunk that was hosting a variety of insects (remember; it is still March here—not normally a time to observe insects). Numerous muscoid flies, expectedly, congregated at the flow and lapped up the sap, as did a couple of brightly colored Vanessa atalanta (red admiral butterfly—family Nymphalidae). These fast-flying butterflies overwinter as adults and, thus, were ready to take advantage of the sudden warming spell. They also could have been difficult to photograph had their sweet tooth not enticed them to pose nicely on the dark, sap-saturated bark.
Vanessa atalanta (red admiral butterfly). Photo by Ted MacRae.
A closer look at the many insects congregating on the flow revealed the presence of two fireflies that proved to be Ellychnia corrusca (known as Photinus corruscus in some sources, e.g. iNaturalist) (winter firefly—family Lampyridae). Honestly, I didn’t recall ever having seen fireflies feeding on a sap flow, or for that matter any that were active in March—muggy summer nights are what I picture when I think of fireflies! The common name of this species, however, alludes to the fact that it can often be seen during warm days in winter, especially on tree trunks. Moreover, not only do adults become active in late winter, they mate at that time as well. The fact that these individuals were seen feeding on a sap flow is also unsurprising given that the species has been reported as a pest of sap buckets in the spring. There was one more surprise, however—as I was photographing the beetles, I noticed their all-dark abdomens, suggested they lack light-producing organs. This is surprisingly common among several groups of fireflies which have given up a crepuscular (i.e. active during dusk and/or dawn), luminescent lifestyle in favor of a diurnal (i.e., day active), non-luminescent existence. (We know that non- luminescent firefly species evolved from luminescent species—i.e., they used to be able to produce light and then lost the ability—rather than representing a lineage that evolved before other fireflies gained luminescent capabilities because their larvae do still posses light-producing organs.) Why did they do this? One possibility is the appearance of “femme fatale fireflies”—i.e., females of the genus Photuris that can that mimic the flash patterns of females in the genus Photinus to attract and eat Photinus males!
Ellychnia corrusca (winter firefly). Photo by Ted MacRae.
Non-luminescence as an antipredation strategy may be a good solution for femme fatales, but leading a diurnal existence still does not eliminate the risk of predation by other insects! One of the fireflies we saw on the sap flow had been attacked by a stink bug (family Pentatomidae) that came to the sap flow not for the sugary substance, but to prey on the other insects that it had attracted. For those of you who are asking “Aren’t stink bugs plant feeders?”, the answer is… mostly! While the majority of species use their piercing/sucking mouthparts to feed on developing seeds and fruits, there is one group of stinkbugs (the subfamily Asopinae) that has adapted its style of feeding to sucking the juices out of other insects rather than plants. This particular stinkbug was identified as Podisus maculiventris (spined soldier bug), and no amount of struggling by the firefly could release it from the stink bug, whose mouthparts had firmly impaled the firefly. Despite being predators, asopine stink bugs still lack chewing mouthparts and can only ingest liquid substances. This might be fine for sucking a juicy seed, but it falls short when trying to ingest another insect… unless it can digest the insect before it consumes it! This is called pre- or extra-oral digestion, whereby the stink bug injects its digestive enzyme-laden saliva into the prey and allows the enzymes to slowly liquify its innards. Once digested, the stink bug can then suck up thenutritious slurry, leaving only the shriveled external carcass of its hapless prey. Another such stink bug was seen elsewhere in the forest, this one preying on a fat, juicy caterpillar.
Podisus maculiventris (spined soldier bug) preying on Ellychnia corrusca (winter firefly). Photo by Ted MacRae.
For lunch, a smaller than usual crowd enjoyed authentic comida mexicana at Casa Tequila Cantina in nearby Warrenton.
Participants: Brenda Adams, Gisela Baner, Prem Barton, Renee Benage, Kathy Bildner, Tina Cheung, Wayne Clark, Sally Fabbri, June Jeffries, Shari Langer, Michael Laschober, Ted MacRae, Len Meier, Burt Noll, John Oliver, David Steinmeyer, Kathy Thiele, Elaine Wolshock, Matthew Wolshock, Richard Wolshock, and Laura Yates.
L-R: Ted “BugMan” MacRae, Pete Kozich, David Seidensticker, “Ozark Bill” Duncan, Lisa Meihls, Chris Brown.
The Webster Groves Nature Study Society (WGNSS) Entomology Group began its final outing of the 2025 field season when eight participants (Chris Brown, Nathalie de Rocquigny, “Ozark Bill” Duncan, Jack Hambene, Pete Kozich, Ted “BugMan” MacRae, Lisa Meihls, and David Seidensticker) met up in the parking lot at Hughes Mountain Natural Area. Tucked into the southeastern corner of Washington Co., this gem of a natural area features 1.5 billion year old Precambrian outcrops that are among the oldest continuously exposed rocks in North America. Once molten as a result of volcanic activity associated with the St. Francois Mountains, the now hardened and weather-resistant rhyolite that formed after it cooled lies still exposed at the summit and surrounding areas. To the geologist, the polygonal columnar pattern of cracking at the summit—resulting in a unique formation called the “Devil’s Honeycomb”—might be the area’s most interesting feature. To the botanist, the xeric grasslands that formed on the surrounding exposures—i .e., “igneous glades”—might instead take this honor. To the entomologist, however, the unique fauna of insects associated with this interesting natural community earns top billing.
Rhyolite glade at Hughes Mountain Natural Area.
On two previous visits, the group has been fortunate to see one of Missouri’s rarest and most beautiful longhorned beetles—Tragidion coquus. Velvety black with vivid orange elytra, this charismatic species is usually seen during fall, and we hoped to be fortunate enough to see it again. Two species of fall tiger beetles—Cicindela limbalis (claybank tiger beetle) and Cicindela splendida (splendid tiger beetle), both colored iridescent green and brick red—were additional possibilities. A clear consensus quickly became apparent, however, when most participants voiced a desire to see Trimerotropis saxatilis—the famously and colorfully cryptic lichen grasshopper! It didn’t take long to see the first ones as soon as we began reaching the swathes of exposed rhyolite with their coverings of green and black lichens. Sitting motionless on the lichen-encrusted rocks, the grasshoppers were almost impossible to see, so perfectly colored and patterned was their camouflage.
The abundance of lichen grasshoppers on the glades was somewhat expected, but what was not was the diversity of other grasshoppers also present at the margins of the glades and in the surrounding dry woodlands. Four such species were documented, including Hippiscus ocelete (wrinkled grasshopper), Melanoplus ponderosus (ponderous spur-throat grasshopper), Melanoplus rusticus (obovate-winged grasshopper), and Spharagemon bolli (Boll’s grasshopper)—all possessing their own forms of cryptic coloration that made relocating them after they jumped difficult.
Two non-grasshopper orthopterans as well were found—several Scudderia furcata (fork-tailed bush katydid), ranging from green to tan to almost pinkish(!), were seen in the glades and woodlands, and an unusually cooperative Ceuthophilus sp. cave cricket (family Rhaphidophoridae) was also seen.
Scudderia furcata (fork-tailed bush katydid—family Tettigoniidae).
The group fanned out across the glades as they worked their way up towards the summit. Of special interest were flowers that might host pollinating insects (and possibly even T. coquus). Few flowers would be found, however—a consequence of abnormally dry conditions since late July, and we found ourselves looking for other targets. Ted managed to photograph a beautiful red-marked variegated meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum corruptum), while David “captured” (through the viewfinder) a male black swallowtail butterfly (Papilio polyxenes).
Eventually the group reached the summit, where the “Devil’s Honeycomb” and a spectacular vista awaited us. An unexpected feature at the summit was white splotches on the tops of many of the projecting columns of rock, which the group surmised to indicate use of the summit as a roosting site by turkey vultures.
“Devil’s Honeycomb” at summit of Hughes Mountain.
The group lingered to take in the crisp air, blue skies, and spectacular view created by 1200’ of elevation before turning back to begin the descent back down the mountain.
Buford Mountain (2nd highest point in Missouri) in the distance.
Descending the mountain, however, did not mean an end of things to see. Even before getting off the summit, Lisa noticed Chelinidea vittiger (cactus leaffooted bug) on pads of Opuntia cespitosa (eastern prickly pear). This species feeds and develops almost exclusively on the pads, fruits, and young growth of prickly pear cacti (Opuntia spp.), thus, its range coincides with the distribution of these cacti.
Further down the mountain, another “variegated” species was seen—this time a variegated fritillary (Euptoieta claudia) butterfly. This well-worn individual was only the third butterfly species seen on the day, the aforementioned black swallowtail and a particularly fresh common buckeye (Junonia coenia) being the other two. This one was probably making its way south to overwinter in the southern U.S., where the species is a year-round resident.
Along the way, the lichen grasshoppers continued to attract our attention due to their abundance and striking diversity of coloration. We were treated to a particularly obvious example of this when we encountered a mating pair with the much smaller male exhibiting shades of brown instead of the greens exhibited by the much larger female.
It had been a leisurely descent off the main glade, and once clearing the woodland to emerge into the last glade fragments before the final descent, Chris and Ted were further delayed by a trio of observations in rapid succession. A large, impressively marked Neoscona crucifera (spotted orbweaver) spider hunkered down on a twig first caught Chris’ attention. Photographing it turned into an adventure when an effort to manipulate the twig on which it was resting ended up alarming the spider and causing it to drop down to the ground. They returned the spider to the twig using other twigs and leaves, but invariably it dropped again. Eventually, they learned they could “reel” the spider back up to the twig by its silk line if they acted quickly enough, and with repeated efforts both succeeded in getting photographs of the spider back up on the twig.
While this was going on, the unmistakable droning buzz of Milesia virginiensis (yellowjacket hover fly or Virginia flower fly) caught their attention. The resemblance of the adults of this species to wasps is remarkable, and they are often seen hovering in midair, making erratic shifting movements, and then suddenly flying away. This particular fly, however, cooperated by landing on a rock (briefly) and allowing a few photographs before it abruptly departed.
Spider and fly photographs in hand, Ted and Chris resumed their descent but took only a few steps before another sighting demanded photographs—a rough green tree snake (Opheodrys aestivus) peering quizzically from amongst the rust-red leaves of a stunted blackjack oak. The snake cooperated at first, allowing a few closeup photographs before making a run for it. Fortunately, this is a very docile species that rarely (if ever) bites when handled, so Chris and Ted were able to corral it for additional photos before returning it back to the tree from whence it came.
Opheodrys aestivus (rough green snake—family Colubridae).
At last, they were able to complete the descent and join the rest of the group in the parking lot, but not before making one last interesting find—the bizarrely beautiful caterpillar of Isa textula (crown slug moth). Like many members of the family Limacodidae (slug moths), the pale green, flattened caterpillars bear stinging spines/-in this case on lobes that radiate out from around the edge of the body. The caterpillar was found on the ground (it is probably mature and was looking for a protected place to spin a cocoon in which to spend the winter) and coaxed onto a leaf to bring it to the parking lot so everyone could have a chance to photograph it (it looked particularly stunning when set on a bright red sumac leaf).
After missing the last three weeks, I was happy to rejoin the WGNSS botanists on their regular weekly outing this past Monday. This week’s destination—Salt Lick Point Land & Water Reserve in western Monroe Co., Illinois—features a mosaic of loess hill prairie and limestone glades amidst dry to dry-mesic upland forest atop limestone bluffs towering up to 400 feet above the Mississippi River valley below.
View from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
It has been an exceptionally dry August and September, so much that fall blooming plants are noticeably delayed and sparse in their blooms. Nevertheless, welcome rains just in the past few days have breathed some “fall life” into the woods and brought with them the pungent, earthy aromas that one expects to accompany a landscaping morphing from the dull greens of summer to the vibrant ambers, tawnies, and golds of fall.
View from the Salt Lick Trail at Salt Lick Point.
The group first explored the upland and blufftop habitats along the challenging terrain of the Salt Lick and Newman Trails, then returned through flat lowlands along the bluff bottoms via the Johnson Trail. Although still just beginning to bloom, a diverse palette of “fall asters” gave us an opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with the characters that distinguish these often “easy-to-identify-to-genus but difficult-to-identify-to-species” plants. The bulk of these fell into one of two groups—the true asters (genus Symphyotrichum) and the goldenrods (genus Solidago).
Salt Lick Trail at Salt Lick Point.
Symphyotrichum patens (late purple aster) was the first true aster that we noticed, a rather common species distinguished by its purple (of course) flowers with loose but not recurved phyllaries and leaves broadly clasping the stem. It wasn’t long before we had a chance to test our knowledge when we encountered the similar appearing Symphyotrichum anomalum (manyray aster), also with purple flowers but distinguished from S. patens by its distinctly recurved phyllaries and petiolate rather than clasping leaves. Eventually, we would encounter a third species of the genus—Symphyotrichum lateriflorum (calico aster), distinguished by its numerous small white flowers at the tips of numerous lateral branches rather than the terminus of the stem.
View from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
Goldenrods, on the other hand, were not only more diverse but also comprised some quite conservative species. The first of these was Solidago drummondii (Drummond’s goldenrod). This near-endemic species is restricted to eastern Missouri and adjacent parts of Illinois and Arkansas and grows almost exclusively on limestone or dolomite bluffs. However, we found it growing on limestone boulders placed at the trailhead next to the parking lot. Its wide, toothed leaves on short petioles (along with habitat) make this species easy to identify. Another quite conservative goldenrod was found as we entered the dry to dry-mesic forest further up the trail—Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod). Restricted to the Ozarks and adjacent areas, it is a showy species with relatively large flowers and spready phyllaries. In this and other respects, it greatly resembles the much more common Soldago petiolaris (downy goldenrod); however, it differs from that species by its narrower leaves that lack distinct teeth. A third species was seen as we approached one of the larger loess hilltop prairie remnants—Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod). Unlike the previous two species, this is one of the commonest and weediest species of goldenrod in the region. Relatively tall and with pyramidal inflorescences, this species often aggressively monopolizes roadsides and fallow fields. It greatly resembles another fairly common species—Solidago gigantea (late goldenrod), which we would later see during the return hike along the edge of the river valley. Leaf texture, however, differs between these two species—S. altissima has leaves with rough surfaces (caused by stiff, unidirectionally recurved hairs that cause the leaf to move only one direction when rubbed between the thumb and forefinger), while S. gigantea has smooth leaves (that move in any direction when rubbed).
The group not only spent its time with its eyes down, but also out—across the vast Mississippi River valley spread out below the several lookout points dotting the trails. Tawny fields of near-ready-to-harvest corn provided a beautiful backdrop against the resplendent red sumacs and brilliant orange maples lining the blufftops.
Members of the WGNSS Botany Group admire the view from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
View from the Newman Trail at Salt Lick Point.
As the group’s lone entomologist/botanist (“entomotanist”?), I also kept an eye out for insects and was richly rewarded. A tiny “thorn” on the stem of S. buckleyi proved to be Enchenopa latipes (wide-footed treehopper), and unfolding the “folded” leaves of Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud) revealed the culprits—zebra-striped caterpillars of Fascista cercerisella (redbud leaffolder moth).
Enchenopa latipes (wide-footed treehopper—family Membracidae) on stem of Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod).
Fascista cercerisella (redbud leaffolder—family Gelechiidae) on Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud).
A spectacular earth boring beetle, Geotrupes splendidus, was seen lumbering clumsily along the trail in its endless quest for mammal dung to bury and lay an egg upon, while Bombus impatiens (common eastern bumble bee) worked the flowers of Eupatorium altissimum (tall boneset) and Eupatorium serotinum (late boneset).
Geotrupes splendidus (splendid earth-boring beetle—family Geotrupidae) on trail through dry-mesic loess woodland.
Bombus impatiens (common eastern bumblebee—family Apidae) on flower of Eupatorium altissimum (tall boneset).
A nearly mature Euchaetes egle (milkweed tussock moth) consumed the dwindling foliage of Cynanchum laeve (climbing milkweed), and Piezogaster calcarator (leaf-footed bugs) congregated on the inflorescences of Verbesina alternifolia (yellow ironweed).
Piezogaster calcarator (leaf-footed bug—family Coreidae) on flower of Verbesina alternifolia (yellow ironweed).
Nowhere, however, was insect activity more abundant than on the goldenrods, particularly the abundant stands of S. altissima in the uplands and S. gigantea below. Overwhelming numbers of Chauliognathus pennsylvanicus (goldenrod soldier beetles) and Lycomorpha pholus (black and yellow lichen moths) were accompanied by a cacophony of bees, wasps, and flies—a situation tailor made for Phymata sp. (jagged ambush bugs) to lay in wait while Epargyreus clarus (silver-spotted skipper) flew erratically overhead.
Phymata sp. (jagged ambush bug—family Reduviidae) mating pair on flower of Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod).
Epargyreus clarus (silver-spotted skipper—family Hesperiidae) perched on Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod).
Even in the deeply shaded mesic forest, Cyllopsis gemma (eastern gemmed satyrs) flitted deftly through the undergrowth.
Cyllopsis gemma (eastern gemmed satyr—family Nymphalidae) in mesic riparian forest.
The most unusual find, however, was a bizarre, green, jewel of a caterpillar found crawling on the forest floor—Isa textula (crowned slug moth or skiff moth), fringed with lacy projections that make it look more like a sea slug than an insect!
Isa textula (crowned slug moth, skiff moth—family Limacodidae) in leaf litter of mesic riparian forest.
Of course, a Monday WGNSS Botany Group outing isn’t truly consummated until it has enjoyed lunch at a local establishment—the choice this time being Tequila Mexican Restaurant in nearby Waterloo (best fish tacos I’ve ever had!).
Fr. James Sullivan (left) and Ted MacRae (right) stand under a banyan tree in Key Largo, Florida, 9 May 1986 (photographer unknown).
In Spring 1986, the Rev. James Sullivan (Fr. Sullivan to those who knew him) and I made a two-week trip to Florida with the objective to explore as much of the state as we could—from the Panhandle to the Keys! My goal, of course, was to collect beetles2, especially woodboring beetles in the families Buprestidae and Cerambycidae (it was only my third trip outside of Missouri for such purpose), while Fr. Sullivan’s was to identify and document as many plant species as possible. This apparent dichotomy in interests was not as clean as it may seem—as an entomologist interested in host plant relationships, the chance to spend time in the field with as accomplished a botanist as Fr. Sullivan was too good to pass up, and Fr. Sullivan’s passion for studying insect associates of the plants he studied greatly aligned our interests. My memories of that trip have faced in the nearly 40 years since, jogged only by the specimens I collected now residing in my cabinet and two trays of 35 mm slides taken with an Olympus OM10 SLR film camera. Fortunately, Fr. Sullivan was more diligent than I in journaling his observations during that trip, a copy of which he gave to me. This report is an attempt to summarize our observations using these materials. In his journal, Fr. Sullivan made the following disclaimer: “Plant determinations in these notes must be regarded as tentative: We have not had the use of a complete flora for any portion of the State of Florida. We have been as precise as possible with the use of several less complete sources. ★This star symbol indicates plant determinations that were later confirmed by the use of the Flora of Tropical Florida or by other adequate keys.”
[Note: names for most of the plants included in this report were confirmed by Fr. Sullivan, the primary exceptions being those indicated with question marks (?). As a result, I have omitted use of the star symbol in this report. Also note that plant taxonomy has likely changed immensely during the past 39 years. Scientific names, common names, and plant families given are those we used at the time, and only in a few cases have they been harmonized with current nomenclature (my notes in [square brackets]). An asterisk (*) denotes plants and insects that were also photographed.]
We left St. Louis on the morning of April 28 with the goal of spending the night in Montgomery, Alabama. The next morning, true to form, Fr. Sullivan got up early to explore the area around the hotel before continuing the drive south. He noted two plants: Cirsium horridulum and Sapium sebiferum (Euphorbiaceae), the latter a fast-growing deciduous tree known as Chinese tallow and native to eastern Asia. All parts of the tree emit a milky white sap when damaged, which is toxic and can cause gastrointestinal upset if ingested. As we continued south, we noted the first Spanish moss (Tilandsia usneoides) draping the trees along Hwy 281. The growth was very well-developed, leading Fr. Sullivan to speculate that it also probably occurred north of Montgomery along I-65 but that we missed it due to our nighttime arrival.
Later in the day we arrived at our first destination, Torreya State Park in the Florida Panhandle, home of the extremely rare Florida nutmeg (Torreya taxifolia*) tree that grows only on the bluffs along the Apalachicola River. We explored the heavily forested hills and ravines of the area and found examples of this plant alongside the road near the entrance to the campground. However, we documented a diverse list of other plants including Acer barbatum [= A. saccharum ssp. floridanum] (Florida maple), Actaea pachypoda, Amorpha fruticosa, Aralia spinosa, Ascyrum sp., Callicarpa americana, Calycanthus floridus, Calycarpon lyoni, Cnidoscolus stimulosus*, Conopholis americana, Conradina canescens*(Lamiaceae), Croomia pauciflora* (Stemonaceae), Decumaria barbara, Dirca palustris, Erigeron strigosus, Erythrina herbacea*, Euonymus americanus*, Lonicera sempervirens*, Halesia sp., Hydrangea quercifolia*, Ilex opaca, Itea virginica*, Lygodium japonicum, Mitchella repens, Myrica serifera, Onoclea sensibilis*, Opuntia humifusa*, Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), Ruellia carolinensis*, Sebastiana fruticosa* (Sebastianbush, Euphorbiaceae), Spiranthes praecox*, Viburnum sp., and Wahlenbergia marginata. Insect collecting consisted primarily of an assortment of longhorned beetles attracted to ultraviolet (UV) lights at night.
After two nights at Torreya State Park, we traveled further down the peninsula along the central spine to Highlands Hammock State Park, one of the oldest state parks in Florida protecting 9,000 acres of old-growth cypress swamp and oak hammock. We first explored the Wild Orange Grove Trail (noting wild orange trees as well as our first alligator!) but moved to other areas of the park over the next two days. We noted the occurrence of three species of palms here: Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), which lacks the leaf midrib of and has fewer leaf divisions than Sabal palmetto (cabbage palm), the most common palm and distinguished by a strong leaf midrib, and Serenoa repens (saw palmetto) with its saw-toothed petiole edges. We repeatedly saw the tortoise beetle Hemisphaerota cyanea on the leaves of S. palmetto. A nice variety of longhorned beetles was also collected here, including the Florida endemic Typocerus flavocinctus and several lamiines at UV lights at night. A blister beetle (family Meloidae) similar to our Nemognatha nemorensis was common on the flowers of Aster reticulatus* and Pterocaulon pycnostachyum* (both Asteraceae), and on flowers of Cirsium horridulum we saw the leaf-footed bug Acanthocephala terminalis* (Coreidae). Other plants that Fr. Sullivan noted include Abrus precatorius*, Ardisia crenulata* (crenate berry bush, Myrsinaceae), Asimina pygmaea* (?), Bacopa sp.*, Bidens pilosa*, Callicarpa americana*, Cuthbertia graminea (?), Emilia sonchilfolius, Eriocaulon sp.*, Erythrina herbacea, Hypericum sp.*, Ilex cassine, Ilex glabra, Lachnocaulon anceps, Lygodesmia aphylla*, Lyonia lucida*, Mikania scandens, Oxalis violacea* (?), Persea borbonia, Polygala lutea*, Schrankia microphylla*, Tephrosia chrysophylla, Urena lobata, Utricularia sp.*, and Xyris sp.* Fr. Sullivan also noted in his journal a list of a dozen “rare” birds such (e.g., cardinal, catbird, crow, etc.!).
Our next destination was outside the northwestern limits of Everglades National Park at Collier-Seminole State Park, which lies partly within the great mangrove swamp of South Florida (one of the largest mangrove swamps in the world) and covering one of three original stands of royal palm (Roystonea elata [= Roystonea regia]) in Florida (the park was previously called Royal Palm Hammock). We primarily explored the Royal Palm Hammock Nature Trail and along the water’s edge around the boat basin, where Rhizophora mangle* (red mangrove) lined the edges of the salt marsh. Two species of Solanum were observed, primarily S. erianthum (potato tree) but also S. donianum*, and we noted the pleasant fragrance of a Eugenia sp. that escaped identification. Bursera simaruba (“tourist tree”), with its distinctive peeling bark, was also common here. We noted Baccharis halimifolia heavily infested with the leaf beetle Trirhabda bacharidus*, saw Heliconius charitonius butterflies on the wing, and observed a cluster of young seed bug nymphs* (Lygaeidae), likely one of the milkweed-associated species, on a vining species of milkweed. Deer flies (family Tabanidae) were a real problem for both of us, and we had to use head nets (Fr. Sullivan even resorted to wearing his London Fog jacket!). Other plants documented included Acrostichum sp., Alternanthera sp. poss. philoxeroides (Amaranthaceae), Batis maritima, Bidens pilosa var. radiata, Blechum brownei, Borrichia frutescens*(sea daisy), Commelina diffusa, Dicliptera assurgens*, Dicromena sp.* (white-bracted sedge, Cyperaceae), Eugenia sp.*, Ipomoea alba (moon flower), Ipomoea sagittata*, Passiflora pallens, Pithecellobium unguis-cati (cat claw), Pluchia odorata (camphor weed), Polygala grandiflora var. angustifolia, Psychotria undata*, Solidago sp.*, Triodanus sp., Urena lobata*, and Zanthoxylum fagara (lime prickly ash). Similar to previous localities, a diversity of longhorned beetles were attracted to UV lights at night.
After two days at Collier-Seminole, we drove east along the Tamiami Trail, noting the magnificent stands of bald cypress (Taxodium distichum) in the Big Cypress Swamp Preserve and seeing the first water hyacinths (Eichhornia crassipes) in bloom. We also saw Australian pines (several species in the genus Casuarina)—angiosperms rather than gymnosperms. Its needles are much longer than true pine (genus Pinus), and the trees appeared very dark green as seen from a distance. Eventually we landed at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park on Key Largo. Most people visit this park to dive and explore the spectacular living reefs of the Florida Keys; however, we had more terrestrial objectives. We began by exploring the coral limestone woodland along the Wild Tamarind Trail, where Metopium toxiferum*was common along the woodland border (and we took care not to touch!). A large ichneumonid wasp* (Ichneumonidae) was seen perched in the understory, and we noted the impressively oversized female of the spider Nephilia clavipes* being courted by an equally strikingly diminutive male. Lysiloma latisiliqua* was abundant in the woodland, as was Bursera simaruba* its bark red and peeling like a sunburned tourist! Coccoloba uvifera was also abundantly fruiting, and other plants seen include Alternanthera sp., Conocarpus erecta var. sericea, Schinus terebinthifolius*, and an unidentified composite (either Eupatorium villosum or Garberia sp.). Along the Mangrove Trail we saw (of course) not only red mangrove Rhizophora mangle*) but also black mangrove (Avicennia germinans*, Avicenniaceae) and white mangrove (Languncularia racemosa, Combretaceae). These three plants are placed in three unrelated families, yet all show a high degree of fidelity to mangrove ecosystems. At a Persea americana* orchard in the adjunct Shaw Property, we saw Hamelia patens* in bloom and Lysiloma latisiliqua growing around the orchard’s edge. Other plants seen in the area include Abutilon sp., Batis sp.*, Eupatorium villosum* (?), Gaillardia pulchella*, Heliotropium angiospermum, Heliotropium curassavicum, Hibiscus tiliaceus, Melanthera sp., and Rivina humilis*.
Our plan the following day was to continue down the length of the Keys, making stops at a few selected places along the way before spending the night in Key West. At our first stop on LowerMatecumbe Key, we noted Avicennia germinans, Eustoma exaltatum*, and Polygala baldwini (as well as a Great Blue Heron) and then continued southwestward to Long Key State Recreation Area [now Long Key State Park]. Most people visit Long Key for its beaches and fishing, but we came to the preserve to explore the endangered coastal dune ecosystem that it protects. Few insects were seen, but a number of interesting, mostly highly salt-tolerant, plant species were seen. These include Abutilon sp., Argemone mexicana*, Cassasia clusiifolia*, Chrysobalanus icaco, Ipomoea pes-caprae, Lantana involucrate, Manilkara bahamensis* (wild dilly, Sapotaceae), Scaevola plumieri* (inkberry, Goodeniaceae), Solanum diphyllum, and Suriana maritima* (bay cedar). We finished the day at Key Deer Preserve on Big Pine Key, a sanctuary for the smallest subspecies of white-tailed deer in North America. We did not see any deer, but we did see some interesting plants. Byrsonima cuneata* (Malphigiaceae) was common here, as was Croton linearis. Along the Nature Trail we saw the orchid Bletia purpurea* (pale pink) and also recorded Aletris sp., Chrysophyllum oliviforme (Sapotaceae), Dichromena sp., Ernodia littoralis*, Metopium toxiferum, Pithecellobium sp., Polygala verticillate (?), and “thatch palms” (plus a hissing alligator!).
The next two days were spent at Everglades National Park, where we began our visit by exploring the Long Pine Key Nature Trail, where Cladium jamaicensis* (sawgrass) and Taxodium distichum* dominated the landscape. We noted that it was easy to pass one’s fingers over the sawgrass blade edge in one direction, but not so easy in the other! It was here that I found what I considered a real prize—my first ever bumelia borer (Plinthocoelium suavelons)! I also collected the very colorful Trichodes apivorus on the flowers of Sabal palmetto. Fr. Sullivan had even more success with the plants—so much, in fact, that we were only able to explore the east end of the trail. Several plants belonging to largely tropical plant familys were seen, including Dodonaea viscosa (varnish leaf, Sapindaceae), Tatrazygia bicolor* (Melastomataceae), and Dipholis salicifolia (willow bustic, Sapotaceae). Polygala balduinii (or a similar species) and an unidentified Buchnera sp. were common. The recorded list of other plant species seen was diverse: Asclepias lanceolata*, Baccharis sp., Byrsonima cuneata, Calopogon sp.* [likely C. tuberosus var. simpsonii], Croton linearis, Dichromena sp., Heliotropium polyphyllum var, polyphyllum (H. leavenworthii ) (Boraginaceae), Jacquemontia jamaicensis, Lobelia glandulosa*, Melanthera angustifolia (Asteraceae), Myrica cerifera, Myrsine guianensis, Passiflora sp.*, Persea bordonia, Piriqueta caroliniana, Psychotria nervosa, Rhus sp., Sabatia sp. poss. brevifolia*, and Stillingia sylvatica ssp. tenuis (Euphorbiaceae). We returned again to Long Pine Key Nature Trail the following day to explore the west end near Pine Glades Lake, finding many of the same plants recorded the previous day but also Ageratum littorale (?), Bletia purpurea, Justicia ovata var. lanceolata*, Lippia stoechadifolia, and Morinda royoc. From there we moved on to the P.K. Nature Trail, where Cynanchum blodgettii was seen twining over much of the vegetation—including other plants of its own species!. Fr. Sullivan spent a good deal of time studying a plant found growing at the edge of Pine Glades Lake, which he presumed to be a species of Lippia that exhibited pleated leaves with matching teeth (leading him to call it “corduroy lippia” or “pleated lippia”). Eventually he settled (and later confirmed) the species as Lippia stoechadifolia, a Neotropical species limited in the U.S. to south Florida and the Keys. Other plants observed included Angadenia berterii, Urechites lutea, and (my favorite) Zamia floridana* [likely Z. integrifolia var. silvicola].
Back at Key Largo near Tarpon Bay (below our motel), Fr. Sullivan continued exploring the plants, especially the mangroves. He noted that Avicennia has “dewdrops” but that the other mangroves do not. This relates to the processes used by the plant to eliminate excess salt, which in Avicennia involves salt water “perspiration” that dries in the heat of the day (indeed, the residue of salt flecks is useful in distinguishing Avicennia from the other mangroves) but in Rhizophora is done by accumulating salt in the oldest leaves before they turn yellow and drop. He also noted that Avicennia and Rhizophora can be distinguished by color; Avicennia, which normally grow a little farther from the water, are closer to gray-green, while Rhizophora are closer to yellow-green. Tridax procumbens was a common roadside weed around the motel—its flowers and fluffy seedheads rise on long scapes, as if leafless, but are actually attached to the sprawling, hairy stems, which bear many deeply cleft leaves with opposite arrangement. He also noted Morinda royoc growing not only in the woods but also hedgerows. It is like Psychotria [both species are in the Rubiaceae], but without the large, nervy leaves. The fruits aggregate to look like large, yellowish mulberries. Hamelia patens grows right along the highway here, and several large Solanum shrubs with stellate trichomes on the leaves and white flowers were seen that may be a complex of species including S. donianum, S. verbascifolium, S. erianthum, or yet another species.
On May 10, the field visits were over, and it would take two days of driving to return to St. Louis. Even beginning the drive home, however, did not stop Fr. Sullivan from botanizing. During a stop at the drawbridge on Hwy 1 between Key Largo and the mainland, Fr. Sullivan collected Stachytarpheta jamaicensis, its flower tubes emerging from upward pointing, elongate triangular bracts, and its leaves being coarsely dentate. Also, from the highway in northern Florida, we saw what appeared to be the frequent occurrence of blooming Asimina. These were low plants with white flowers and leaves present. Spending several days in south Florida also gave Fr. Sullivan a chance to contemplate the different hammock habitats that we had visited, and he noted the following: “A hammock is basically a hardwood forest. A hammock in Florida has a significance parallel to that of a glade in Missouri: it is a relief from the ordinary situation. In the Everglades hammocks take the form of “hillocks”: The forest seems to build itself above the level of the sawgrass wetlands. In Highlands County, on the other hand, the hammocks occupy depressions in the topography. It is natural for the pinelands to burn with some degree of regularity, but the wet depressions are protected from most fires. Fire actually helps Pinus to have a competitive edge (since the needles make good tinder and the resin burns so hot, the pines contribute to their own survival situation), but in the wet depressions the broadleaf hardwoods are able to take over. The State Parks often feature the hammocks. As we go farther south, the hardwood species become more tropical. We have seen a lot of Bursera simaruba, a hammock feature, but have yet to see Ceratiola ericoides, which is more a representative of the norm for this state. Visiting Mahogany Hammock in the Everglades we learn that it is protected from sawgrass fires by a natural moat surrounding it. The moat results as limestone strata are eaten away by the hardwood-produced acids.”
1 Deceased April 15, 2025.
2 Permits for collecting beetles were obtained from the Florida Department of Agriculture and the National Park Service.
Welcome to the 17th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the first of two planned insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring during June 4–13. This was another solo trip, and while it was not as long as I’d hoped, I still managed to visit 15 different localities—one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada.
I left Kansas City in the morning with two goals: 1) look for Acmaeodera robigo (family Buprestidae) in Texas Co., Oklahoma (based on a 2011 observation posted to BugGuide), and 2) make it to Black Mesa State Park in the far northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle before sunset (to avoid having to set up camp in the dark). It was a long day of driving (mostly through heavy rain), but by the time I arrived at the A. robigo locality, skies were clear and the area was dry. Texas Co. is the largest (and seemingly flattest!) of the three Oklahoma panhandle counties, but I have not collected in the county previously because most of it has been converted to cultivated wheat. This particular location, however, lies within the Beaver River drainage and, thus, features native shortgrass prairie vegetation.
Beaver River drainage where Acmaeodera robigo was observed in 2011.
The host plant mentioned in the A. robigo observation, Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy—family Asteraceae), was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, so I checked the flowers carefully up one side of the highway and down the other side.
Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy).
Nothing was seen on the flowers, but given the lateness of the hour and cool temps I did not expect to see anything. Still, I set three white bottle traps in the area within patches of M. leucanthemum and will plan on retrieving them up later this season. With luck, the traps will have attracted adults if the species as they visit the nearby flowers.
Bottle trap, antifreeze, and a spade are all that is needed to trap flower-visiting insects.
Moving west I quickly entered Cimarron Co.—I always enjoy seeing this double-line of utility poles stretching to a seemingly endless horizon at the border between Texas and Cimmaron Counties. The latter is not only the westernmost county in the state, it is also the only county in the U.S. that borders four other states (Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, and Kansas).
Entering Cimmaron Co., the westernmost county in Oklahoma.
I made it to Black Mesa State Park with plenty of daylight left to set up camp. Per usual, after getting camp setup I enjoyed “refreshments” and waited for nightfall to walk the roads looking for nocturnal beetles (or any other critters that might be out and about). I did see an Eleodes sp. (darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) early in, but the night was chilly, and the onset of light drizzle put an end to the walk.
Ready for bed!
This would not be the end of my nighttime hiking, however—at 3am I was awakened by the drone of a motor, and it was loud enough that sleep would be impossible. Thinking it was an inconsiderate camper down at the RV campground, I decided to investigate and discovered it was a water pump within the campground. I decided if I couldn’t sleep, then somebody else would also have to be awakened, namely the campground host. It took the elderly woman a few minutes to come to the door after I rapped a few times on her RV, and I apologized for waking her before explaining the situation. She said she wouldn’t know anything about how to turn it off, to which I replied that I didn’t expect her to know that but I’ll bet somebody does and maybe she could make a call and figure out who that is or this wouldn’t be the last time somebody wakes her at 3am. I figured that would be the last of it, that I’d be awake until morning, and that I would have another nine hours of driving the next day on only three hours of sleep. But, to my relief, about a half hour later a park maintenance vehicle pulled up to the pump house, and a young man turned the motor off (I thanked him profusely). I did eventually get back to sleep and awoke to birdsong and clearing skies.
Day 2
There is a low water bridge at the south entrance to the park that crosses a normally dry creek. However, this time the creek was filled with water with lush growth of sedges and grasses along the water’s edge. This is a perfect situation for Taphrocerus species (family Buprestidae), and at this literal transition point from the eastern to the western fauna I’m not sure what species I might encounter there. Unfortunately, thorough sweeping of the sedges produced no beetles, so the question will for now remain unanswered.
Creek at south entrance to Black Mesa State Park, Oklahoma.
Heading south and then west from the park takes you shortly into the northeastern reaches of New Mexico and the town of Clayton. Whenever I pass through Clayton I like to stop at Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill for a bag of freshly ground coffee.
Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill, Clayton, New Mexico.
Skimming across the northern reaches of New Mexico for the next several hours was uneventful with no indication of a repeat of the heavy rain that pounded me for much of my drive yesterday across Kansas and Oklahoma. The situation changed, however, as I crossed the Continental Divide on the approach to Farmington.
I think I’m going to get wet.
I’m sure I’m going to get wet.
Sure enough, I once again had the pleasure of driving through driving rain. In addition, I arrived at my next planned spot just north of town (Brown Springs Campground) to find the entrance and main road under several inches of water. No point in trying to collect there, so I continued on towards the next stop (Devils Canyon Campground) in southeast Utah (San Juan Co.) in hopes of arriving early enough to set up camp before dark. Things looked promising as I crossed through the southwestern corner of Colorado towards Monticello, Utah, as patchy clouds filled a sun-filled sky.
Near Dove Creek, Colorado.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
By the time I reached the campground, however, the rain had returned—not hard, but steady. I didn’t relish the thought of setting up camp in the rain and did something I almost never do—heading back into town and spending the night in a motel! At least I was able to enjoy a burger cooked by someone else for a change.
Day 3
Day 3 started off gray and overcast with the threat of more rain, but looking at radar and the areas I was going further west had me optimistic that I would get out of the rain once and for all. My ultimate stop for the day would be Jacob Lake Campground in north-central Arizona (Cocconino Co.), and my plan was to stop at a number of places along the way. Devils Canyon Campground itself, however, was still under clouds, meaning that collecting there would likely not be very productive. Nevertheless, despite last night’s rainout and the continuing cool, wet conditions, I decided to place some traps that I could pick up later in the season and, thus, get at least a sample of the area’s beetle fauna.
Devils Canyon Campground, Utah.
The campground lies at ~7000 ft, and I found a ridge with ponderosa pine/gamble oak forest on the slope to one side and pinyon/juniper/oak woodland on the crest of the ridge to the other. On the ponderosa side I set a white bottle trap, and on the pinyon/juniper side I set a sweet red wine-baited jug trap. There wasn’t much in bloom at the time other than a few yellow composites and the occasional Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose—family Onagraceae) with blossoms still wide open despite the daylight hour due to the overcast, cool conditions.
Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose).
Coming down off the plateau towards Bluff, Utah, thick low clouds gave way to higher broken clouds with warmer temps (mid-60s). I stopped a few miles west of town at a location where Mont Cazier once collected what was later described as Agrilus utahensis (family Buprestidae) and began sweeping roadside vegetation. While I was sweeping, I encountered three Amannus vittiger (family Cerambycidae) on the flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow—family Malvaceae) (along with a few meloids and bees for others). The record of A. utahensis was from quite a bit later in the season (late July), so I didn’t really expect to find it (although I was hopeful). However, I did sweep what appears to be Agrilus malvastri.
Amannus vittiger collected on flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
A short distance west of the stop had me entering northeastern Arizona, and traveling west of Dennehotso on Hwy 160 I encountered patchy, low lying clouds though which beams of bright sunlight lit up the red rocks below and cast a reddish hue on the bottoms of the clouds.
West of Dennehotso, Arizona on Hwy 160.
A bit further west on Hwy 160 is a formation apparently known as “Baby Rocks.”
Baby Rocks, west of Dennehotso, Arizona,
As I drove, I kept my eye out for areas along the highway with stands of plants in bloom, and I found just such at a roadcut on Hwy 98 near mm 325 as I approached Page, Arizona (Cocconino Co.). There was a fair amount of Sphaeralcea coccinea in bloom, off which I collected a handful of Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata and one Amannus vittiger from the flowers. I swept the grasses and other roadside vegetation thoroughly, but that produced nothing. I returned my attention to the Sphaeralcea and swept it thoroughly as well to be sure I didn’t miss anything. Good thin I did, as that turned up one more each of A. p. lanata and A. vittiger as well as a few Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata on flower of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
After passing through Page, Arizona, rather than continuing straight west to Jacob Lake Campground, I veered north into Kane Co., Utah to revisit a locality I’d visited a couple of years ago about 23 mi northwest of Page on Hwy 89. The last time I stopped here (late June 2023), I found a few Nanularia brunneata (family Buprestidae) on the stems of Eriogonum inflatum (desert trumpet—family Polygonaceae). That visit was about three weeks later in the season than this time, and not only was the area dry (despite all the rain east of here), but there was very little new growth on any of the E. inflatum plants—just the dried stalks of last year’s growth. Still, there was fresh growth present at the spot, in the form of Ericameria nauseosa (gray rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae), on which I collected a single cryptocephaline leaf beetle, and along the roadside rain shadow in the form of Sphaeralcea parvifolia (small-leaved globemallow), on the flowers of which I collected several more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri. Eventually, I did find a single E. inflatum plant with small sprouts of new growth on which I found several clytrine leaf beetles. Sweeping the S. parvifolia produced one more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, a single Acmaeodera navajoi—a species I collected here abundantly two years earlier, and a series of a very small chrysomelid leaf beetle species that I observed feeding on the foliage.
Once I got a bit further west, the landscape turned green again, indicating recent rains, so I checked iNaturalist for nearby records of E. inflatum that I could check for N. brunnea. There was one a few miles east of Kanab (Kane Co.) and on the way to Jacob Lake Campground, so I stopped by to see if I could find the plants. Unfortunately, the record turned out to be on private property, so I couldn’t go to the precise location. I looked around the area outside the property but didn’t see any plants; however, S. parviflora was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, and sweeping it produced a few more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri and a couple of small bees (for Mike).
11 mi E of Kanab, Utah.
There were also several blooming Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear—family Cactaceae), which I checked for Acmaeodera, but I found only one large bee (again, for Mike). With the sun by then dropping close to the horizon, I called it a day and headed for the campground.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—pink-flowered form.
I arrived at Jacob Lake Campground (Cocconino Co., Arizona) and got camp setup before dark, which settled in as I was cooking dinner. It was chilly at this relatively high elevation (7900 ft)—temps were already in the mid-50s and were forecast to drop down into the 40s by morning. Despite the chill, I found a Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) and a smaller tenebrionid on a cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Zopherus uteanus on cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Later, I walked the site—not really expecting to see much because of the chill, but I did find three Iphthiminus lewisii (family Tenebrionidae) on the trunk of a recently fallen P. ponderosa and saw two more on a pine stump.
Iphthiminus lewisii on trunk of recently fallen Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
With three days of travel—the first two mostly rainy and today dry but still quite cool, I’m hoping the forecasted warmer, sunnier conditions for tomorrow and onward come true and I can get this collecting trip in high gear.
A waxing gibbous moon illuminates my camp at 7900’ in Jacob Lake Campground, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Day 4
After morning coffee (and moving to a different campsite—long story!), I went back north a bit to the area near Lefevre Overlook that had been only lightly impacted by the widespread burns that occurred here a few years ago and is showing signs of recovery. It felt “early season” with patchy clouds, moderate temps in the low of mid 70s, and plenty of moisture in the soil with lots of plants in bloom. Insects were not abundant, but with continued beating I collected a couple of Anthaxia sp. (family Buprestidae) and a variety of small clytrines, cryptocepahlines, and curculionids off of Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose—family Rosaceae) in flower.
Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose).
As the morning warmed, insects seemed to become a bit more active, although the day continued to feel “early season.” Persistent visual searches and beating of a variety of plants turned up a few small black/yellow Pidonia? (family Cerambycidae), one Acmaeodera diffusa?, and one Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fine-leaved hymenopappus—family Asteraceae); one Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, another Pidonia?, and one A. diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua (desert globemallow); several small clytrine and cryptocephaline leaf beetles and curculionid weevils on Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak—family Fagaceae); and several A. diffusa? and a few Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Tetraneuris acaulis (four-nerve daisy—family Asteraceae). Sweeping through the area where the T. acaulis was growing produced nothing further of interest, so I placed a sweet red wine-baited jug trap and a yellow bottle trap in the area—hopefully they will each attract a variety of interesting beetles over the next few months.
Sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in a tree and a yellow bottle trap sunk into the ground below.
A bit further down, the mountain escaped the fire that ravaged many other parts of the mountain. I expected to see much more insect activity, but the opposite instead was the case. This may be related to the lower incidence and diversity of flowering plants, which were likely triggered at the previous spot by the fire. I did find a small area where Sphaeralcea ambigua was blooming abundantly and sweeping through them produced a fine series of Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri along with a few bees (for Mike). I walked up the slope a ways, but there was virtually nothing in bloom—unlike what I had seen at the previous spot. Eventually, I did find a few Hymenopappus filifolia and Tetraneuris acaulis, but the only I beetle I saw on any of them was a single Acmaeodera diffusa? on the latter.
Escobaria vivipara (viviparous foxtail cactus).
Without anything luring me further up the slope, I worked my way back down towards the car and was about ready to call it a day when I decided to take a gander a bit down the slope—just in case I might see something of interest. Nothing captured my attention, however, so I worked my way over a bit to take a different route back. That’s when I saw it! All day long I had been keeping my eye out for large Utah junipers (Juniperus osteosperma—family Cupressaceae) with thigh-sized main limbs—one of which was dying (not dead), possibly a result of woodboring beetles, and before me was just such a tree!
Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) with dying main limb.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
Large oval emergence hole caused by a species of longhorned beetle.
Fresh frass packed in the galleries by longhorned beetle larvae.
I hiked back to the car to get my chainsaw—brought along on the trip just for such an eventuality—and cut a portion of the infested limb out of the tree so I could bring it home and attempt to rear out the adults. My hope is that the species infesting the tree is Semanotus juniperi (family Cerambycidae), a very uncommonly encountered longhorned beetle that breeds in the large limbs of juniper in this area, so I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed. Hauling out the infested bolt along with the chainsaw was a struggle, but eventually I made it back to the car and celebrated a successful last act to what had up to that point been a not too spectacular first full day in the field.
Bolt of Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) infested with longhorned beetles.
I needed a break after working the chainsaw and hauling out the wood, so I went back to the campsite to enjoy an end-of-the-day “beverage” and eventually dinner. However, part of me was thinking Inshould have collected more of that infested juniper to increase my odds of successfully rearing whatever was infesting it, so I resolved to do exactly that in the morning.
Dinner on the grill at Jacob Lake Campground.
Before dinner as I was gathering kindling, I had noticed a large, fallen ponderosa pine behind the campsite and returned after dark to see if there might be any nocturnal beetles attracted to it. It seemed recently dead, but as I inspected the upper branches more closely I saw that it had been dead long enough that whatever would have been attracted to it had already come and gone. I thought maybe I could find beetles under the bark and began peeling the bark in the trunk. The bark was still intact but was just loose enough that I could peel it off in large sheets. Doing so, however, revealed only a couple of click beetles (family Elateridae). I didn’t see any other fallen or dead trees in the area, but on the trunks of large living ponderosa pines I found a tenebrionoid and several individuals of a Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle (family Boridae). [Edit: thanks to Alex Harmen for the identification on this one!] Nearby was a cut stump of a very large ponderosa pine, and peeling back the thick bark at the base of the stump revealed yet another elaterid species and two darkling beetles. I was hoping to find more Zopherus uteanus, but no such luck!
Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 5
After a morning of the coffee ritual and observing campsite wildlife, I made an ice run at the nearby service station.
I was having second thoughts about taking only a single bolt of wood from cerambycid-infested Utah juniper that I found at the end of yesterday’s collecting and decided to go back to get more of the infested wood to improve the likelihood of successfully rearing adults from the wood. It would not be an easy job—I’d have to haul the chainsaw down the the tree, cut off the two remaining infested bolts, cut the bolts down to cartable pieces, and then haul the chainsaw and wood bolts back to the car, likely requiring several trips. It was worth it, however, because as I was stripping bark to see where I needed to make the initial cut, I encountered an intact cadaver of one of the beetles that had died while trying to emerge from the wood. I carefully extracted the abdomen from the tree and found the head and pronotum in the bark and placed them in a vial, and they without a doubt represent the species I was hoping they were—Semanotus juniperi, a super rare species that very few people have ever collected [tip of the hat to Ron Alten for sharing his knowledge about this beetle with me and enabling me to find this beetle for myself!]. I’ll be able to put the beetle back together when I get home, and I’m hopeful I’ll rear at least a small series of beetles from the wood I’ve collected.
I love the smell of chainsaw in the morning!
Having carted the additional bolts of wood back to the car and confident in my ability to recognize the work of this species, I looked for—and found—a few more trees that the beetle had infested. However, in each case the workings were old and no beetles were encountered chopping into the wood. I also spent some time looking for much smaller emergence holes in the thick trunk bark of several junipers and carefully shaving the bark to see if I could find another rare longhorned beetle species, Atimia vandykei. I found several galleries that might have been this species, but no beetles or larvae were encountered, leading me to think I might have been a bit late and the adults have mostly emerged. A large, recently dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) also caught my attention, as it looked fresh enough to still contain wood boring beetles that might have infested it. The wood was very hard and difficult to chop into, but I didn’t encounter any larvae of any kind and elected not to collect a bolt or two for rearing. Lastly, I spent some time looking for dead Gambel oaks, which in this area could host Xylotrechus rainei (family Cerambycidae), a recently described species that few have collected. I found several dead stems of the shrubby oak species that contained workings consistent with those of Xylotrechus, but in each case the workings were old and no beetles or larvae were present. This string of “failures” might have seemed like the makings of a bad day, but the success with S. juniperi overshadowed those failures and I left the site happy (though exhausted!).
The author sports his new field hat (an early Fathers Day gift!).
I returned to the first stop of yesterday to see if I could find junipers in this area infested with S. juniperi, reasoning that since the area had burned a few years ago some of the still-living trees might be stressed, thus making them more vulnerable to infestation. I also wanted to see if the bottle and jug traps I placed yesterday had caught anything of interest (even though it had only been one day). Along the way I picked up a single Anthaxia sp. on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis and a few Acmaeodera diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua. There wasn’t anything of interest in either trap, so I set about looking for infested junipers. I found only one, but again the workings were old and no larvae or adults were encountered. I also examined a few dead stems of Gambel oak, but none showed signs of infestation. (I suspect they had been killed by the fire and the damage to the wood by the fire made the stems unsuitable for infestation.) I did, however, find a small more recently dead Colorado pinyon pine that showed signs of recent infestation all along the trunk and collected it for rearing. By then, the day had warmed considerably and I was already exhausted from the morning’s chainsaw session, leading to a loss of motivation to keep looking. I needed a change of pace and decided to head higher up the mountain back into the ponderosa pine forest for some more “traditional” woodboring beetle collecting.
Callophrys gryneus (juniper hairstreak) on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia (fine-leaved hymenopappus).
The forest at this site is dominated by ponderosa pine, and the strategy here was straightforward—look for large, dead or dying trees, either standing or recently wind-thrown, and inspect the examine the trunks for woodboring beetles. I came to this spot two years ago in early July, so this time was about four weeks earlier in the season. I had two specific targets (beyond woodboring beetles in general)—Chalcophora (family Buprestidae) and Monochamus (family Cerambycidae). Both of these genera are the subject of molecular studies being conducted by other researchers that I know, and I’ve been promising to send them fresh specimens killed and preserved in ethanol. The first wind-thrown tree I encountered was still green-needled, and I expected to find buprestid beetles all over it. Instead, all I saw were a few small Enoclerus sp. (family Cleridae). Large dead standing trees dotted the open forest, and I carefully approached and circled each one looking for beetles, paying special attention to those in full sunlight. Time after time, however, I was frustrated. Each time, I chopped into the wood a bit to examine what was going on underneath the bark, and while workings were plentiful I never encountered any larvae.
4.2 mi N Jacob Lake on Hwy 89A, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Finally, I approached a large standing dead tree, and perched on its trunk in the sunlight was Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer). I’m happy to give this specimen up for DNA sequencing, especially since I already collected a specimen at this same spot two years ago (before the molecular study began).
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
I peeled a good portion of bark of the tree it was perched on but found nothing except a large elaterid larva (I wonder if it was Alaus melanops [western eyed elater], a predator or woodboring beetle larvae).
Alaus melanops (western eyed elater) collected from under bark of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
For a long time afterwards that would remain the only beetle I encountered until I found a large standing tree in the early stages of death (needles pale green but not brown) with a female Dicerca tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) searching the trunk, occasionally stopping to probe a crack or crevice with her ovipositor. Patiently waiting at the trunk rewarded me with a second individual within a short period of time.
Dicerca tenebrosa on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Another long period of nothingness ensued as I zigzagged from dead tree to dead tree, eventually retracing my steps to the only two trees on which I had found buprestids. Even that failed to produce additional beetles, but as I was standing at one of them I heard a woodpecker persistently pecking and searching and pecking on a nearby tree. The tree looked perfectly healthy at first glance, but I figured the woodpecker had to know something that I didn’t (I’m always willing to learn from locals!) and walked over to the tree. It was immense, and a closer look at the crown revealed a few browning needles scattered throughout the crown. Then a closer look at the trunk revealed several of the same small Enoclerus sp. I saw earlier crawling on it. Woodpeckers and checkered beetles don’t lie, and this tree was clearly under stress and under attack by woodboring beetles. An initial circling of the trunk revealed no other beetles, but then I noticed the gangly antennae and legs of a male/female pair of Monochamus clamator, the male apparently mate-guarding the female. I’ll be happy to contribute one of these specimens to my colleague for DNA sequencing and keep the other for my collection.
Monochamus clamator on trunk of stressed Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
By that time, the sun was starting to get rather low in the horizon and I was utterly exhausted after a full day of walking, chopping, chainsawing, and hauling. I passed by the two previously successful trees on the way back to the car, to no avail, and headed back to camp (stopping at the nearby market for a celebratory milkshake before going into the campground).
Caenochrysis sp. (family Chrysididae) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Day 6
The day’s plan was to head north to the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes system in southern Utah, but before I left I decided to go down the east slope of the Kaibab Plateau a bit to see it I could find a good transition zone (one that hadn’t burned) from the higher elevation ponderosa pine forest to the juniper/pinyon woodland just below. A few miles east of Jacob Lake, right as I hit 7000’ (there was even a sign to that effect) while descending into the canyon, I saw a small pulloff with ponderosa pine forest (and even some fir) on the east-facing slope to the right and juniper/pinyon/oak woodland on the west-facing slope to the left—perfect! It struck me as a good-looking spot to set some traps, so I set a blue bottle trap in an open area on the juniper/pinyon/oak side of the highway and hid a sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the woodland right above it. I then started beating the patches of Gamble oak hoping for Brachys (family Buprestidae) but finding only a single Anthaxia sp. and several species of clytrine leaf beetles and curculionid weevils. There was a patch of Sphaeralcea ambigua in flower near the pulloff, off which I collected several Acmaeodera diffusa? plus another of those small black /yellow lepturines (Pidonia? sp.) that I found yesterday, and I swept some chunky black dermestids and a couple of bees (for Mike) from the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia. Next came a long period of nothingness! I found another Utah juniper with damage on the main trunk by Semanotus juniperi, but once again it was old with no larvae or adults encountered after another exhausting chopping session. At this point, I turned my attention to the ponderosa pine forest across the highway, as I’d noticed some large dying/dead trees here and there that I wanted to check for buprestids. Despite checking every dead or declining pine within eyeshot, I didn’t find a single beetle! This, combined with the earlier fruitless chopping session, sapped my motivation, and I started heading back towards the car. Only a few A. diffusa? on the flowers of Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear—family Cactaceae) and Heterotheca hirsutissima (harsh false goldenaster—family Asteraceae) momentarily captured my attention on the way back.
As I neared the car, I saw a nicely blooming Purshia stansburyana and beat a nice series of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi from it. I’m not sure if the population in this area is assignable to any of the currently recognized subspecies, so I’ll be interested to study them closer and compare them to other unassignable populations I’ve found in other parts of Utah and Arizona. Right before I reached the car, I saw another juniper that begged “chop me.” I complied and then hated myself for it, as the result was the same as all the other junipers I’ve chopped into since finding that first one with Semanotus juniperi in it. With that, I said goodbye to the Kaibab Plateau and headed north towards Ponderosa Grove Campground near Coral Pink Sand Dunes north of Kanab, Utah.
Clytrine leaf beetle on flower of Purshia stansburyana (Stansbury’s cliffrose).
I reached the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes (Kane Co., Utah) by mid-afternoon. My favorite campground in that area is Ponderosa Grove Campground—it’s large, spacious campsites are not only well shaded by the namesake, unique-for-the-area grove of massive ponderosa pines, but it is also located right across the road from Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area, a BLM-managed area with easy access to the northern portion of the Coral Pink Sand Dunes system (for those who may be asking, this portion of the dune system lies outside the boundaries of Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, which protects the only known habitat of the highly vulnerable Coral Pink Sand Dunes tiger beetle, Cicindela albissima).
After picking a campsite (I was glad to see only a few sites occupied) and unloading my gear, I hightailed it to the dunes with one objective—find Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae). I collected this species before on my previous trip here back in late June of 2023, but I spent a day and a half looking for it and managed to only a small handful of specimens. I thought the earlier timing might be better, but Norm Woodley was here a couple of weeks before and did not see the species, giving me reason to be also skeptical.
Looking across the dunes at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
On the way to the dunes, I set out a yellow bottle trap and sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the sandy juniper/pine woodland bordering the dune. Upon entering the dunes, I immediately started seeing the host plant, Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat—family Polygonaceae), a distinctive plant with a basal rosette of linear leaves and, on some plants, a tall stem bearing the inflorescence. One plant in particular, right at the dune entrance, spoke to me saying “look at me.” I don’t know why, but I went over to it, tapped the basal rosette over my net, and off fell a nice large female C. nelsoni! Well, that was fast. I looked at a couple more plants and saw on a second adult (this one a smaller male) sitting head down at the base of the inflorescence stem—two specimens on the first three plants I looked at!
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on stem base of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
I found quite a few more (although not quite at that same frequency) over the next hour or so before they seemingly just disappeared. I noted the lateness of the hour and wondered if they have a ‘bedtime’—perhaps they burrow into the sand around the base of the plants for the night—and started back towards camp, picking up a few Eleodes caudifera lumbering across the surface of the sand along the way. I decided at that point, now that I had a nice series of the beetle, to bring the “big camera” over the next morning and try to get much nicer photos of the beetles on their host plant that what I can achieve with this iPhone.
Eleodes caudifera lumbers across the sand.
It had been a long day by that point—I was both famished and exhausted and needed a bit of time to rest and refuel. I had brought two salmon filets along with me, which should have been enough for two meals, but I was so ravenously hungry that I cooked and ate both.
Chill time at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
The rest and food gave me a bit of a spark, and as sunset approached I was inspired to set up the blacklights. Conditions were not close to ideal—a waxing gibbous, nearly full moon along with cool(ish) temperatures are usually enough to kill blacklighting. However, it was warmer than the past several nights at Jacob Lake (1300 ft higher elevation), so I compromised by setting up only the two ultraviolet lights (which I can run right off the car batter) but not the mercury-vapor lamp (which would have required hauling out and running the generator).
Not long after I turned the lights on, I noticed the bright, unmistakable glow of a mercury-vapor lamp at the far other end of the campground. I was like “That has to be an entomologist!” so hiked on down to introduce myself. As I entered the campsite, a man approached me and said “Hello, Ted.” Now I’m thinking okay we’ve met before, but I’m a dummy with poor social skills because I don’t recognize him. He said “My name is Mike.” The omission of his last name had me doubly thinking that I was an idiot because the mention of his name still wasn’t enough to trigger my memory of his last name or who he even was. When I asked him his last name, he said Rashko. I recognized that name instantly—he is the person who discovered Acmaeodera rashkoi, recently described by Rick Westcott and one of the species I had targeted on this trip. I told him of my plan and asked him how he knew who I was. It turns out he is a longtime follower of this blog and had seen my license plate (MOBUGS) earlier in the day. He was traveling from his home in Oregon to Flagstaff to meet his family and stopped here to spend the night and see what he could collect. We had a wonderful time chatting about the art of collecting and about colleagues we know (especially Rick, whose ears were burning I’m sure). I showed him the nice series of C. nelsoni that I’d gotten earlier in the day and told him we could go back in the morning before he left so that he could get some. We got so involved talking that we forgot to even look at his sheet to see what insects had come in until a Polyphylla uteanus (Coral Pink Dunes June beetle—family Scarabaeidae) smacked into his head and bumbled its way over to the sheet (Mike let me keep it). A large female Monochamus clamator also landed on the sheet (which Mike kept).
Eventually we said our goodbyes, and I wandered back to my campsite where I was mildly optimistic that my ultraviolet lights had brought in something. Sadly, there were no beetles of interest, but there was a stunning Hyalophora gloveri (Glover’s silk moth—family Saturniidae) and eventually two small white sphingid moths—all of which I kept for Rich Thoma back home. Success for me that night, however, was not yet out of sight. I made a round to inspect the massive trunks of the ponderosa pines dotting the campground and was rewarded with a nice little series of Zopherus uteanus.
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
I also found a few of the weirdly explanate Embaphion glabrum (family Tenebrionidae) crawling on the ground beneath the trees. A second round to look at the trees yielded no additional beetles, however, so I turned the lights off and turned in.
The “Big Dipper” prominently graces the western sky during the wee morning hours.
Day 8
Just as I had promised the night before, I wandered down to Mike’s campsite in the morning to see if he wanted to look for Chrysobothris nelsoni. He was already out looking for “beetles in the bush” around his campsite, and together we worked our way over to the dunes. It didn’t take long for me to see one of the beetles in its host plant, which I pointed out to Mike so he could see it and try to catch it himself. That beetle got away, but almost immediately he saw another one on a neighboring plant and succeeded in capturing it. We saw several more, but unlike the previous evening they were faster and more difficult to catch with the rising late-morning temps. Mike caught a couple more (and I one for the record) but had to leave, so we exchanged contact info and said our goodbyes.
Morning on the dunes.
The author (left) with Mike Raschko (right).
Back at the campsite, I looked around a bit to see what else I might collect. There was a nice diversity of plants in bloom, many which could be expected to be visited by buprestid beetles—Sphaeralcea parviflora (small-leaf globemallow), Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus), Hymenopappus filifolia, etc., but no beetles were seen. There were clumps of Gamble oak and Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry—family Rosaceae), but beating them produced nothing. The only thing I found was a recently windthrown branch of Utah juniper, which, when I stripped back some of the bark, proved to be in the early stages of infestation by longhorned beetles, probably a Callidium sp. The lack of insect activity (except for C. nelsoni) presented a quandary—should I stay another night (as planned), or should I pack up and head to my next destination (either Leeds Canyon, Utah or Kyle Canyon, Nevada)? I decided it was already too late in the day to head somewhere else—by the time I got there it would be late in the day, and I didn’t relish the idea of searching for an available campsite late with no reservation at such a late hour. I decided I might as well stay put and make the best of it—which I could do by going back over to the dunes and look for more C. nelsoni. The day’s heat, however, was not only making the beetles very difficult to catch but also starting to get to me. Fortunately, distant thunderclouds came closer and closer until they were directly overhead. Rather than rain, however, it was virga, so I got the best of both worlds—an immediate cooling off that was not only comfortable for me but also settled the beetles down without the rain that would have sent me scurrying back to camp.
Virga brings relief from the heat to the dunes.
In the end, I succeeded in collecting another nice series of specimens.
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
By then it was mid-afternoon and I was famished, so I headed back to camp to refresh, refuel, rehydrate, and catch up on my field notes. Comically, as I was writing my notes, I happened to be watching one of the common sagebrush lizards (Sceloporusgraciosus) that had been hanging around the campsite as it bit at and then rejected some type of insect that was crawling on the logpile next to the firepit. I got up to see what it had rejected, and it turned out to be Danosoma brevicorne (family Elateridae), which I am happy to add to the collection.
Common sagebrush lizard (Sceloporusgraciosus).
Danosoma brevicorne on woodpile.
After some chill time at the campsite [it was actually very busy—I wrote my field notes from earlier, charged all my devices using an inverter hooked up to the car battery, and downloaded photos from my “big camera” memory card to the computer], I went back to the dunes to see if I could get “big camera” photo of the beetles. It was touch-and-go at the start—shortly after reaching the dunes it started sprinkling and the wind started picking up. All I could do was wait it out, hope conditions improved, and be ready to bolt if the skies opened up. Just as quickly as it started up, however, it blew over, and I was able to start looking for beetles. As with every other time during this visit, it didn’t take long. The first beetle I found was a bit hidden within the crown of the plant, but I was able to carefully move the leaves out of the way without disturbing the beetle and got a nice series of shots. I was happy with the photos, but I wanted photos that were a little less “cluttered.” The perfect opportunity for such arose when I saw a beetle sitting out near the tip of a leaf. It was not in the best position—other leaves were partially blocking it from view, so I carefully grabbed the leaf at the base and gently pulled until it detached from the plant. Fortunately, the beetle wasn’t phased by the tugging and continued to sit calmly on the leaf. I wanted a blurred pink sand background, which I thought would look spectacular behind the brilliant green color of the beetle, so I stuck the base of the leaf in the sand to prop it up and adjusted the angle and distance in concert with my camera and flash settings until I achieved the desired effect. I’m super happy with how some of these photographs turned out, so look for them to appear in a future post. I’m probably lucky that the mini-storm moved through when it did, as the cool conditions likely calmed the beetles down and made them more willing subjects. By the time I finished photographing the second beetle, the sinking sun signaled a dinner bell, and I walked back to the campground super satisfied with how this visit had turned out.
After dinner, I turned the ultraviolet lights on despite the just-shy-of-full moon and customary coolish temperatures. I didn’t expect anything to show up, but you don’t know if you don’t try (nothing ever showed up!).
Mustard makes everything fancy in the field.
While waiting for nothing to come to the lights, I made several rounds of the large ponderosa pines, expanding the circuit to include some further toward the west end of the campground. As with the night before, I found a half dozen Zopherus uteanus crawling on the trunks (one was up too high to reach, though, and when I knocked it down with a stick it disappeared into the thick vegetation below the tree). I’d really like to know what these guys are up to during the day (hiding in the leaf litter at the base of the trees?) and what the larvae are doing (no idea!), but they certainly seem to be associated with pines (I’ve also collected Zopherus concolor at night on the trunks of Colorado pinyon pine). I also found a few more tenebrionid darkling beetles, including another Embaphion glabrum, crawling on the sandy ground beneath the trees. I expanded my search to include the trunks of some of the large Utah junipers, finding a few more tenebrionids on them.
Embaphion glabrum in ponderosa pine grove at night.
With midnight approaching, I soaked in my last bit of experience at the place before retiring for the night and leaving the next morning.
A waxing gibbous, almost full moon rises high above the campground.
Day 9
I left Ponderosa Grove Campground about 9:30 am with the plan to spend the next couple of days in Kyle Canyon and Lee Canyon northwest of Las Vegas. The drop down from the Colorado Plateau via the Virgin River Canyon was long the most spectacular stretches of freeway I’ve ever seen, but the sad reward waiting at the bottom was searing +100°F heat (the highest I saw registered on my car’s thermometer was 108°F!). Fortunately, turning off I-11 and heading west on Kyle Canyon Road gradually gained elevation. Before reaching the canyon proper, however, I had one of the trip’s top goals to take care of—setting a bottle trap for the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (recall that I encountered the namesake of this species, Mike Raschko, just two days prior at Ponderosa Grove Campground). I found the type locality no problem (where the modest gain in elevation had reduced the temperature to only 100°F!) and also found the trap that Mike had just set the day before we met.
Lower Kyle Canyon Rd—type locality of Acmaeodera raschkoi.
I placed yellow bottle trap about 59 m to the west from Mike’s trap and a blue bottle trap about 45 m to the east. There was no reason to stay at the locality and try to collect, as things were super dry, the only green vegetation seen besides the Yucca jaegeriana (eastern Joshua tree—family Asparagaceae) dotting the landscape was a small Cylindropuntia ramosissima (branched pencil colla—family Cactaceae).
I had originally planned to camp lower down in the canyon at Kyle Canyon Campground, but by the time I got there it was already nearly filled to capacity. There were a couple of campsites still available, but the campground as a whole had a noisy, crowded vibe that wasn’t my cup of tea. I decided to take a chance and head further up the mountain to Hilltop Campground to see if I could find something more to my liking. It was a short drive up the mountain, and this campground also was nearly filled to capacity. However, it was a much quieter vibe, and among the three campsites still available was one that was isolated from all the others on the side of the mountain with spectacular views across the canyon and down into the desert below. Also, the 8300 ft of elevation offered much cooler conditions—a welcome change from the searing temperatures I had endured earlier in the day. It was perfect!
View from Hilltop Campground, Spring Mountains, Nevada.
I quickly set up camp and began looking around. Not far from the campsite I found a wind-thrown branch Utah juniper, and slicing into the bark I found a dead adult Semanotus sp. prob. caseyi amplus (not as exciting as S. juniperi, but still a nice find) and a small scolytid bark beetle boring an oviposition gallery. I did a bit of chopping into the bark and found small new cerambycid galleries (probably either Callidium or Semanotus) and some very large frass-filled galleries at the larger end that may be Semanotus juniperi. I found the frass-plugged entrance hole to the sapwood —a sign that the beetle had not yet emerged—and chipped away on either side of the gallery into the sapwood until I saw the large cerambycid larvae sitting it it. This confirms that the wood is actively infested, and I’ll cut it up and bring it home for rearing. At the empty campsite next to mine, I found a small, recently dead Abies concolor (white fir—family Pinaceae), and closer inspection of the trunk revealed an adult Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa, and on a return trip to the tree I saw another one (but too high up to capture ☹️). I also hung a red wine-baited jug trap just south of the campsite. There wasn’t much else going on in the area and it was getting late, so I got dinner started.
Sunset at Hilltop Campground.
I didn’t even consider setting up lights—the combination of a full moon and the cool, windy conditions that typify sites at this high of an elevation made the chance of success highly unlikely (in fact, it got so cool that I needed to pull on a fleece pullover). That did not, however, mean I could not do any night collecting—examining tree trunks has become a favorite strategy of mine that can be done on almost any night regardless of temperatures or wind. Trees under stress or recently dead (as well as recent wind throws or woodpiles) are especially good to look at, and I had noticed several during my earlier foray that I made a point to check. At the same time, I have also learned not to ignore living, seemingly healthy trees, as these can also harbor interesting beetles. Of course, the very first tree I headed for was the recently dead white fir on which I had collected Dicerca tenebrosa a few hours earlier, and I was rewarded right off the bat with an unusually small Zopherus uteanus. I wondered if this might be an interesting locality for the species, but I saw the species was recorded from Kyle Canyon in a review of the genus by Triplehorn (1972) (at which time it was still placed in the family Tenebrionidae). I quickly found another individual, this time on the trunk of a large Utah juniper—interestingly, the first non-pinaceous host on which I’ve found the species (although still a gymnosperm).
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
What I was most anxious to check, however, was a large Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) that I had seen nearby with a long, twisting scar from a lightning strike gashing down the trunk—surely there would be something on that (there wasn’t despite checking it repeatedly for the next couple of hours). What did produce beetles, though, was a large, recently wind-thrown branch from that very tree laying on the ground nearby—two species and multiple specimens of each, one (Oeme? sp.) searching frenetically back and forth along the branch, and the other (Haplidus? sp.) in the form of a mating pair. I found it interesting that my inspection of the branch earlier during the day produced nothing.
Oeme? sp. on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Haplidus? sp. mating pair on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
At this point, the night was already a reasonable success, but the greatest success lay just ahead. I had noticed a few large Utah junipers that showed evidence of infestation by Semanotus juniperi—or at least that what I presumed based on what I had learned about that species in the Kaibab Plateau a few days earlier. Not that I thought I would see adults of that species, but I figured the trees would have to be under some stress and might attract other beetles (I had already collected Z. uteanus off of one a few minutes prior). The first one I checked had nothing on it, but when I checked the second one I noticed a large black longhorned beetle on the trunk underneath some shredded bark. I carefully removed the overlying bark to get a better look at it and quickly realized that it was, indeed, S. juniperi! As I prepared to take a photograph, I noticed movement a bit higher on the trunk, and there sat a second individual! In the fraction of a second that followed, the memory of all the chainsaw work I had done a few days earlier in an effort to rear proper specimens flashed through my mind, yet here before me now were two live adults on their host in the wild. I presume the tree is attracting the adults and that there are already numerous individuals inside of it, as I found large swaths of larval galleries under the bark but no obvious adult emergence holes. The tree itself looks healthy and shows no outward sign of stress, and were it not for the evidence of larval galleries I wouldn’t have even suspected it was infested. As with Z. uteanus, this species also has been recorded from Kyle Canyon (Hammond & Williams 2013).
Semanotus juniperi on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
Over the next hour, I continued inspecting trees in the area, but especially those on which I’d found beetles, and eventually that effort was rewarded with a third S. juniperi on the same tree I collected the previous two. The final collection of the night occurred just after that, when I found not one but two more Z. uteanus, this time on the trunk of P. monophylla. I made one more quick round of the trees, but as it was now midnight I accepted the bounty of the night and turned in.
Days 10 & 11
Unfortunately, I had to end the trip rather abruptly due to a confluence of circumstances at home. The final straw was the rapid decline of Berlioz—our 20-year-old cat (only lifelong cat lovers will understand the bond between a man and his cat). It was not a surprise, and in the morning as soon as I was able to break camp, I left Kyle Canyon and spent the next two days blasting north on I-15 and west on I-70. Sadly, I wasn’t able to make it home before he passed. I’ve had many cats over the course of my life, but King Berlioz was the best!
Welcome to the 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!
In late August, I made another trip out to northwestern Oklahoma to service “jug traps” and other insect traps placed at several locations throughout the area. The traps were set in mid-May (see “First insect collecting trip of the season”), checked for the first time in mid-June at the beginning of a 3-week long collecting trip to the southwestern U.S. (see “2023 Southwestern U.S. Collecting Trip iReport”), and checked again in late July (see “July “jug trap” run”). This post describes the third trip to service the traps—less about what the traps themselves had caught and more about other insects seen and collected at the locations where the traps have been set. The final trap run will be made in early October, and you can expect a post about that trip as well shortly afterwards.
Day 1 — 28 Aug 2023 Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma
Finally a nice break in the weather. Rain moved through a few days ago and temperatures are decidedly lower than the mid-90 to low-100 temps that have dominated for the past few weeks. I started out in the shortgrass prairie along Raptors Roost Trail above the canyon. Last time I was here (5 weeks ago), the only cicadas I heard were Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada). This time I heard three different species: Neotibicen auriferus (plains dog-day cicada), Neotibicen pruinosus (scissors grinder dog-day cicada), and Megatibicen dorsatus (prairie cicada). I was able to snag one of the former but couldn’t get M. dorsatus—the one I really wanted. There were no Acmaeodera in the white bottle trap—just one Elateridae (and some bees for Mike). Robust patches of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) were in flower in the prairie—I checked the flowers hoping maybe some of the fall beetles I was interested in (Acmaeodera macra and Crossidius pulchellus) would be out by now, but all I saw on them were Epicauta sp. (blister beetles), Chauliognathus limbicollis (soldier beetles), and Atalopedes campestris (sachem skippers).
Chauliognathus limbicollis (family Cantharidae) on flower of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) in shortgrass prairie.
Male (top) and female (bottom) Atalopedes campestris (sachem skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) in shortgrass prairie.
After that I went down into the canyon to check the traps. All of them were completely overloaded—primarily Elateridae and Cotinis nitida. Field counting was impossible, so I bagged for counting later (I did see a few specimens of Plinthocoelium suaveolens and Eburia quadrigeminata/haldemani in the morass) and went down to the campground to set up camp and cook some dinner.
Euphorbia marginata (snow-on-the-mountain, smoke-on-the-prairie, variegated spurge, or whitemargined spurge—family Euphorbiaceae) in shortgrass prairie.
I debated whether to setup the lights (ultraviolet/mercury-vapor)—the moon is waxing towards full (which, by the way, will be the 3rd brightest full moon of the year), and though warm today (not hot) there was a tad of a cool crispness in the air down in the canyon as the evening progressed—good my my comfort but not so good for beetles! I set them up anyway (because that’s what I do), and for the first hour it was a steady accumulation of moths and a few crummy scarabs.
Tent, table, lights, and a large overhanging branch—the perfect campsite!
Eventually I ended up with a single alkali tiger beetle (Eunota togata globicollis—absent where I’m from but quite common in the Great Plains, but nothing else came after that and we’ll into full darkness. I did get a bonus—a dead male Neotibicen pruinosus lying on the picnic table on the campground.
Eunota togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet/mercury vapor light in hackberry/bumelia/juniper canyon woodland.
Adult male Thyridopteryx ephemeraeformis (evergreen bagworm—family Psychidae) at ultraviolet/mercury vapor light in hackberry/bumelia/juniper canyon woodland.
SkyView version of tonight’s night sky.
Day 2 — 29 Aug 2023
Sleeping temps were really nice, but I was awoken at 3:40 am by light rain and had to get up and put on the rain fly. It dumped soon afterwards, but I slept nicely anyway. In the morning first thing I found a Epicauta conferta blister beetle—beautifully marked with red on black, and after breakfast and breaking camp I checked the Lindgren funnel trap. On the way to the trap, I came across about a dozen more E. conferta on the road—all feeding on the fallen fruits of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia).
Epicauta conferta (family Meloidae)—one of about a dozen individuals feeding on the fallen fruits of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in hackberry/bumelia/juniper canyon woodland.
Like the jug traps yesterday, the Lindgren funnel trap was overwhelmed by mostly click beetles but did also contain Eburia haldemani/quadrigeminata and Plinthocoelium suaveolens in the mix. The trap contents were bagged unsorted for counting later.
Gloss Mountain State Park Major County, Oklahoma
There was even more Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) in bloom here than at Alabaster Caverns (I’ve not seen this here since I haven’t been here much during this time of season), it they were simply loaded with Megatibicen dorsatus (bush cicada). I collected a half dozen from a single clump (and there were four more that flew away while I was doing so) and recorded one male singing. As it sang, a female flew to the plant, and the male then slowly backed down the stem and positioned itself directly opposite from the female, allowing me to photograph the pair together (before the female then flew off abruptly—I guess she didn’t get the right “vibe” from the male).
Megatibicen dorsatus (bush cicada—family Cicadidae) male (left) and female on Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) in mesquite chaparral.
Right next to the patch of sunflowers i was working, I saw (and caught) a male Neotibicen auriferus singing in Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite. I would end up with about a half dozen and record one male singing over the next few hours.
Neotibicen auriferus (plains dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) on Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in mesquite chaparral.
Walking the road into the park to check the lower traps, I encountered a few colonies of Vanduzeea segmentata on H. annuus being tended by ants.
Vanduzeea segmentata (family Membracidae) on Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) in mesquite chaparral.
The white bottle trap had a single Acmaeodera sp. and a few other miscellaneous beetles (and 5 bees for Mike), and, as at Alabaster Caverns yesterday, both the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps (the EtOH trap was removed last time) were overwhelmed with Elateridae and Cotinus nitidus beetles and were thus bagged for counting later. However, once again I did see a fair number of Plinthocoelium suaveolens, Eburia haldemani/quadrigeminata, and elaphidiines in the mix. Up on top of the mesa, the jug traps were again overwhelmed and the catch bagged for later counting, and the white bottle trap had no Acmaeodera but several miscellaneous other beetles and bees.
Callophrys gryneus (juniper hairstreak or olive hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower Asclepias engelmannii (Engelmann’s milkweed) in mesquite chaparral.
Woodward, Oklahoma
After leaving Gloss Mountain State Park and passing through Woodward, Oklahoma a short distance to the west, I couldn’t resist stopping at my favorite “Christian coffee shop”—sadly closed during my first trip to the area in May but open again under new ownership as a bakery during my July visit.
The coffee is undeniably good, but what I really love about this place is the life-sized dinosaurs in front of the shop, complete with signs giving the true “facts” about dinosaurs from a creationist viewpoint (see “2022 Oklahoma Insect Collecting Trip iReport”). As laughable as the “facts” are, the dinosaurs really are very nicely done (save the angel riding the Stegosaurus!).
Slapout, Oklahoma
Another “must stop” on the way to Beaver Dunes Park is the Slapout Service Station in—you guessed it—Slapout, Oklahoma. The town is (literally!) little more than an intersection, but inside the store is a standup freezer filled with some of the tastiest cuts of packaged meats I’ve ever had. I stopped to pick up a nice filet for tomorrow night’s dinner in the campground at Black Mesa State Park tad a way to celebrate a (hopefully) successful end of the trip.
Slapout Service Station.
Beef filet steak.
Beaver Dunes Park Beaver County, Oklahoma
I got here with just enough daylight left to check the traps if I could be quick about it. At the previous spots the traps have been so full that field counting wasn’t feasible, and here was no exception. Although I will eventually have to count them at some point, it does make things go more quickly in the field. I first checked the white bottle trap, which contained a few Acmaeodera sp. and bees, and was able to service all the jug traps and bag their catches quickly with a little bit of time to spare searching the dunes as the sun set in the western sky.
Sunset over Beaver Dunes.
I was looking chiefly for Megatibicen tremulus (Cole’s bush cicada), which was unknown until relatively recently due to the great similarity of its appearance and song to the more common and widespread M. dorsatus (bush cicada) and one that I have not yet seen. This cicada is generally found in more sandy habitats, and there are some iNaturalist records from this area. It didn’t take long, as soon as I hit the 2-track leading into the dunes I saw a male on Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower), and although it looked nearly identical to the M. dorsatus I was catching earlier in the day (at Gloss Mountain State Park) the black rather than brown tymbal covers strongly suggest it is M. tremulus. I saw two more males as I searched the dunes, but both were far too wary and bolted before I could get within net range.
Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower—family Asteraceae) in sand dune habitat with and a rising “super moon.”
Eventually the settling darkness became too much of an obstacle and I had to return to the car, but as a consolation prize I found a Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer) sitting on the upper stem of a sapling Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood). Right next to the sapling was a much larger cottonwood in which several male Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicadada) were singing—unfortunately none of which were within net reach (I can’t be too disappointed, as I did collect a couple of them at lights the last time I was here, and I’ve also collected the species in northern Texas).
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) on Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) sapling in sand dune habitat.
Day 3 — 30 Aug 2023
No lighting last night—it was too cool and the moon at its brightest. It did make for comfortable sleeping, however (in the middle of the night I had to get into the heavy sleeping bag)! I decided to check out the dunes before heading on to Black Mesa since I had caught only a single Megatibicen tremulus (Cole’s bush cicada) yesterday and wanted to see if I could get a few more. The dunes were bright (and already hot!) in the morning sun.
Beaver Dunes in the morning light.
The cicadas proved to be common enough on the dunes (though not abundant as with M. dorsatus yesterday at Gloss Mountain), but unlike the latter, which were quite clumsy and easy to catch, these were incredibly wary and quick to fly. Less than half the individuals I approached I got within a net swing’s reach (and I have a telescoping long-handled net!), and most of those I could take a swipe at I missed. After more than an hour of trying, I had only two individuals to to show for it—both males singing from the branch tips of Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac). I did manage to get photos of the one I caught yesterday, which I placed in sumac foliage for the photos, but in cruel turnabout, it got away from me before I could re-secure it! Life is just that unfair sometimes.😊
Megatibicen tremulus (Cole’s bush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing from Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac) in sand dune habitat.
Even more frustratingly, right as I was swinging the net at one of the two that I caught, I saw right next to the cicada what must have been the large and charismatic buprestid, Lampetis drummondii—a species I have not seen since 1995 when I encountered them rather commonly in western Texas. The buprestid did not end up in the net, nor did I see another individual, so my memory (and this note) will have to remain the only record of the species from this place, at least for now.
1.4 mi E of Kenton Cimarron County, Oklahoma
The jugs traps were not quite as overwhelmed as at the previous locations, and instead of Cotinus nitidus being the abundant scarab it was Euphoria inda. Elateridae were still numerous, but a cursory glance through the catch did not reveal the presence of any Cerambycidae. Nevertheless, the catch from each jug trap was bagged for sorting later. Walking back to the vehicle I encountered two Crossidius discoideus—one hanging out on a grass clump and another flying slowly above the ground nearby. I caught the latter and then tried to photograph the former, but it became quickly alarmed and I had to grab it. After I put it in the vial and went to get the other one out of the net, I discovered it had found its way out and escaped—good thing I had secured the first one! I scanned the plants on the way back to the car but never saw another one.
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) in shortgrass prairie.
When I reached the car, I decided to keep searching the area—I had seen a Cicindelidia obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle)—apparently all black in this area—when I first got here but missed it and wanted to see if I could find it again. It took a while, but eventually I did see another one and got it, and right afterwards I saw yet another one but it got away.
Cicindelidia obsoleta obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in sparsely-vegetated exposures in shortgrass prairie.
In the same general area as I was looking, I saw something red flying and ran to catch it. It was a Tetraopes femoratus, apparently having just flown from a nearby Asclepias latifolia (broadleaf milkweed).
Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer—family Cerambycidae) on Asclepias latifolia (broadleaf milkweed) in shortgrass prairie.
These new captures induced to me to spend another 45 minutes or so at the site, but I didn’t see a single individual of any of the species I had already collected or any other species of interest. By then it was late enough that I had to leave in order to have enough time to check the final set of traps in nearby Black Mesa State Park.
Brachystola magna (Plains lubber grasshopper—family Romaleidae) on sandstone outcrops in shortgrass prairie.
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, Oklahoma
I checked the canyon jug traps first—results were similar to the previous nearby site, with all traps loaded with Euphoria inda and Elateridae. I bagged them for processing later but did see a few Cerambycidae in the catch. The Lindgren funnel trap was also overwhelmed by the same, but since I’m not taking data from the trap I sorted through the catch and picked out 1 Enaphalodes sp., 1 Neoclytus acuminatus, and more than a dozen elaphidiine cerambycids comprising at least two species. While I was servicing the Lindgren funnel trap I found a Stenomorpha opaca crawling in the rocks, and nearby I found another one a short ways down the Overlook road.
Stenomorpha opaca (family Tenebrionidae) on rocks in shortgrass prairie.
The white bottle trap again had lots and lots of bees in it, but unlike last time it also had 8 Acmaeodera sp. plus 20 Meloidae and one Trichodes orestus along with tons of bees for Mike. I saw a few Megatibicen sp. males singing (presumably M. dorsatus rather than M. tremulus due to the non-sandy nature of the habitat) but couldn’t get close to them, and I heard several Megacicada dealbatus males singing in the tall cottonwoods down below by the creek. I think I’ve had my fill of chasing cicadas for now!
After finishing the last of the traps (26 in all at five locations!), I had about an hour of good daylight left and played a hunch that Lampetis drummoni (family Buprestidae) might be out now. I had seen one earlier in the day on Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac) at Beaver Dunes but missed it, and I reasoned that I might find it in the same here. I took the Overlook Hiking Trail and had walked about half the loop—looking closely at R. aromatica patches along the way (and picking up another Stenomorpha opaca)—and was starting to think it might still be too early in the season (iNaturalist records from the area are all from September and October) when suddenly I saw one perched near the tip of a R. aromatica branch. It was not at all wary (likely due to the lateness of the hour, although my experience with this species in Texas is that they are not particularly zippy), and after taking a photo I was able to pick it easily with my fingers.
Lampetis (Spinthoptera) drummondi (family Buprestidae) perched on Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac) at dusk in shortgrass prairie.
I checked the patch carefully and found another four—all perched in the same fashion and not at all inclined to fly off in alarm. I took another photo of the last one I found with a beautiful evening sky in the background, and those would be the only ones I would see for the rest of the hike.
Lampetis (Spinthoptera) drummondi (family Buprestidae) admiring the sunset!
Beetles In The Bush 