2019 Arizona/New Mexico/California Insect Collecting Trip iReport

This is the eighth “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering a one-week trip to southern Arizona, New Mexico, and California from September 7–14, 2019 with meloid/cerambycid-enthusiast Jeff Huether. Jeff has been a frequent collecting trip partner during recent years, this being our sixth joint outing since 2012. Our initial objective on this trip was to collect cerambycid beetles of the genus Crossidius occurring across southern Arizona/California—part of a larger effort to sample as many of the named subspecific taxa as possible from multiple locations (including type locations when possible) for future molecular studies. We had good success, though we did not collect every taxon that we were after (we were a tad early in soCal). Also, the fact that we had Crossidius as our primary goal did not mean that we would not concurrently be on the lookout for buprestids (me), meloids (Jeff), or other cerambycids (both of us)—and in that regard we were also successful.

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


Day 1 – Dripping Springs Mountains, Arizona
First stop of the trip, and we’re heading east to Safford. As soon as we got east of Superior up into the mountains we saw a place where Heterotheca subaxillaris was in bloom abundantly along the roadsides and pulled over. There were four species of Acmaeodera on the flowers, and I also found a fifth species on the flower of a small white aster. Nice first stop for the trip!

Dripping Spring Mountains.
Acmaeodera gibbula on flower of Heterotheca subaxillaris.
Acmaeodera rubronotata on flower of Heterotheca subaxillaris.
Acmaeodera alicia on flower of Heterotheca subaxillaris.

3.6 mi NW Bylas on US-70, Arizona
Continuing our way to Safford, Jeff saw some patches of sunflower and wanted to look for Epicauta phoenix. I found the first two (but not in sunflower), and then Jeff found two more. As we were walking back to the car I noticed a Crossidius suturalis sitting on Isocoma tenuisecta that was not quite in bloom, and then another nearby on the same plant. We searched the area again, but the only plants were those few right around the car.

I’ve never seen an orange jumping spider (family Salticidae) before!

5.7 mi NE Safford, Arizona
After getting a hotel in Safford, we had time to come back to a spot where Jeff had collected Epicauta phoenix back in July. We found quite a few (see photo) on plants nearby the original collection spot. Looking around more I found an Acmaeodera convicta perched on the tip of a shrub—first time I’ve collected this species! There were several species of tenebrionids crawling on the ground, perhaps prompted to activity by cooling temps as rain whipped up in the distance. I kept one eye on the skies and the other on the plants and eventually found two more A. convicta perched together on the same type of shrub just as rain began pelting my back. We made a quick dash back to the car and called an end to Day 1 in Arizona.

Epicauta phoenix (order Coleoptera, family Meloidae).

Day 2 – 1.9 mi S Artesia, Arizona
We started seeing Isocoma tenuisecta just coming into bloom as we headed south of town so stopped to see if we could find any Crossidius. I looked at a lot of plants before finding a single C. suturalis sitting on one of the non-blooming plants and in the meantime found one Trichodes peninsularis and a fair number of Zonitis dunniana on the flowers. Looking around on other plants, I found one large Chrysobothris sp. (not C. octocola, but longer and narrower) on the branch of a living Acacia constricta [Edit: this is C. knulli—a new one for me!] and one Acmaeodera disjuncta, several more Z. dunniana and T. peninsularis on flowers of Hymenothrix wislizeni. Finally, I did some sweeping of the bunch grasses in the area and got a nice series of what I presume to be Agrilus rubrovittatus—first time I’ve collected that species!

Crossidius suturalis on pre-blooming Isocoma tenuisecta.
Trichodes peninsularis on Isocoma tenuisecta.
Zonitis dunniana on flowers of Isocoma tenuisecta.

17.7 mi S Artesia, Arizona
Another stop with both Isocoma tenuisecta and also Gutierrezia microcephala coming into bloom. We immediately began finding Crossidius pulchellus on the latter and eventually collected a good series of them and also Trichodes peninsularis off the plants When I returned to the first plant we had checked (in fullest flower), a Lampetis webbii landed on it right in front of me! I eventually found C. suturalis on Isocoma tenuisecta, as well as Trichodes sp. and a few C. pulchellus. There was a tall-stemmed malvaceous shrub off which I got a male/female pair of Tylosis maculata, and sweeping produced a couple more Agrilus rubronotata, a few more T. peninsularis, and one Acmaeodera scalaris. I saw a couple of Acmaeodera disjuncta on Baileya multiradiata flowers but missed them both!

Stagmomantis limbata (bordered mantis) on Gutierrezia microcephala.
Lampetis webbii on Gutierrezia microcephala.

1.1 mi N Rodeo, New Mexico
We slipped just inside the New Mexico border to visit the area around the type locality of Crossidius hurdi. We found a spot where there were good stands of Isocoma tenuisecta along the roadsides and checked them out. Like the other spots today they were just starting to come into bloom, and rain had just moved through the area. We found perhaps 20 Crossidius individuals total, and honestly they were so variable that I don’t know whether they represent C. suturalis, C. hurdi, or both! [Edit: they are all C. suturalis] I also collected one Sphaenothecus bivittatus and several individuals each of three species of clerids on the flowers of these plants. A male Oncideres rhodosticta was found on the twig of Prosopis glandulosa, and I also found a cool meloid that I’ve never seen before—Megetra punctata!

A particularly well-marked female Crossidius suturalis on flowers of Isocoma tenuisecta.
The coloration of Megetra punctata screams “Don’t eat me or you’ll be sorry!”
Oncideres rhodosticta on Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite).
Mule deerly departed.
Fence row to the Chiricahua Mountains.

Willcox Playa, Arizona
We plan to visit Willcox Playa tomorrow (my inaugural visit!), but we had some time at the end of the day and decided to come take a look. There were some stands of Isocoma tenuisecta at the north end of the playa, and I found just a couple of Crossidius individuals on them, presumably C. suturalis, but it looks like they are bedding down for the evening. Also got a couple of Enoclerus sp. on the flowers.

North end of Willcox Playa.

Day 3 – 8.4 mi SE Willcox, Arizona
On our way towards the Chiricahua Mountains to see if we can find any Crossidius host plant stands. We found patches of Isocoma tenuisecta and Gutierrezia microcephala along Hwy 186 southeast of town—the former was just coming into bloom, but there were plenty of Acmaeodera (scalaris, disjuncta, and amplicollis) on the flowers, including on the unopened heads. We found perhaps a dozen Crossidius suturalis on them as well, and Jeff found one small female that looks like C, hurdi [Edit: it is C. suturalis]. I looked at a lot of Gutierrezia before finding a single C. pulchellus sitting on one of the plants. The same diversity of Acmaeodera as well as a few A. gibbula and T. peninsularis was also found on flowers of Hymenothrix wislizeni, and I took a series of about 10 specimens of what I looks like A. parkeri on flowers of what appears to be Stephanomeria pauciflora. There were also some tiny membracine treehoppers on a thorny shrub (maybe Condalia?) being tended by ants—both adults and young, and I collected a few of the adults.

Acmaeodera amplicollis on flowers of Isocoma tenuisecta.
Acmaeodera disjuncta on flowers of Isocoma tenuisecta.
Acmaeodera scalaris on flowers of Hymenothrix wislizeni.

Jct AZ-186 & AZ-181, Arizona
After passing over a small range towards the Chiricahuas we didn’t see any Isocoma tenuisecta until we got to Hwy 181. There were some Baccharis sarothroides at the junction also, so we stopped and looked around. The Isocoma was just barely coming into bloom, but I found two Crossidius on them—one male C. suturalis and one small female that may be C. hurdi [Edit: nope, it is C. sururalis]. Heterotheca subaxillaris was in bloom abundantly, but there were no Acmaeodera on them and the area in general looked quite dry. I did find two A. decipiens on Sphaeralcea sp., and in the way back to the car I spotted a huge Lampetis webbii hanging on Ericameria nauseosa (which we’re not even close to blooming)—surely an incidental record.

Chiricahua Mountains in the distance.

4.1 mi SE Willcox, Arizona
We came back towards town where things seemed to be further along and found stands of Isocoma tenuisecta in full bloom at the junction of Blue Sky Rd (a classic Arizona collecting locality). Crossidius suturalis were out in numbers on the flowers! Every now and then I got one that seemed too heavily maculated, making me think it could be C hurdi, but in the end I decided that all represented C. suturalis.

Crossidius suturalis mating pair on flowers of Isocoma tenuisecta. Note the difference in antennal length between the male (top) and female.

Willcox Playa, Arizona
We went to the Playa to see if there were any tiger beetles to be had. I hiked to the edge of the Playa, and within a few minutes I saw a Cicindela pimeriana—just the second one I’ve encountered (the first was last night at gas station lights)! With that promise of more, I hiked the entire playa edge and never saw another one! I only saw one other tiger beetle—Cylindera lemniscata—seems I’m a bit late in the season for the Willcox Playa tiger beetles. Nevertheless, it’s a cool place and was fun to see. I’ll definitely be back during the summer, not just for here but for nearby Blue Sky Rd. Arriving back at the car, I did find one Moneilema sp. (I think M. appressum) on cholla. There were Crossidius suturalis abundant on the Isocoma tenuisecta, which, like the last spot, was in full bloom, but I’d gotten my fill of them at the previous spot and didn’t collect any.

Stalking tiger beetles.
Jumping spider out in the playa.
Eking out a living.
Cow tracks.
These Gnathium sp. were the tiniest blister beetles I’ve ever seen.

Willcox, Arizona (epilogue)
Collecting the insects from the field is only the beginning. Each night they must be processed for storage until they can be mounted once back in the lab.

Processing the day’s catch.

Day 4 – Santa Rita Mountains, Box Canyon, Arizona
We passed through Box Canyon on our way to Madera Canyon, so we decided to stop near the dry falls where last year I’d collected such a nice diversity of Acmaeodera spp. on flowers of Allionia incarnata. There was evidence of recent rain, and we found the patch nicely in bloom with four species (scalaris, decipiens, cazieri, and parkeri) on the flowers. Nearby in the wash before it crossed the road was a yellow composite (Xanthisma gracile), from which I collected the first three as well as gibbula, rubronotata, and disjuncta. Euphoria verticalis scarabs we’re flying plentifully around the flowers also—first time I’ve seen the species.

Allionia incarnata (trailing four o’clock) blooming the canyon slope.

Flats below Madera Canyon, Arizona
There are records of Deltaspis tumacacorii from Madera Canton at Proctor Rd collected on Croton, so we stopped by on our way south to give it a try. This seems to be a rather hard-to-find bug, so I didn’t have high expectations, and that’s a good thing because I didn’t see the beetle nor anything that even remotely resembled Croton. I ended up checking out the desert broom (Baccharis sarothroides) in the area on which I’d collected Stenaspis verticalis arizonensis and Tragidion spp. (also without high expectations). There were some interesting congregations of Euphoria leucographa feeding at sap flows on the stems and a few Stenaspis solitaria but otherwise litttle of note. I did find one Hippomelas planicauda hanger-on on a low fabaceous shrub (not Mimosa biuncifera), and inspecting the Gutierrezia microcephala plants revealed nothing but a single Acmaeodera rubronotata.

Stenaspis solitaria on Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom).
Peucetia viridans (green lynx spider) feeding on Acanthocephala thomasi twice its size!
Euphoria leucographa and a Polistes paper wasp feeding at a sap flow on Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom).
Euphoria leucographa on Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom).
Taenipoda eques (lubber grasshopper). The striking coloration is a warning to potential predators that it is chemically protected.

Madera Canyon Rd, Arizona
We stopped real quick down the road on the way out of Madera Canyon because we saw stands of Isocoma tenuisecta, although they were still just shy of blooming. We looked at quite a few and found a single Crossidius suturalis—probably we are a tad early, and the area looks like it could use a good rain to pop things out and bring the Isocoma into bloom. We also saw low plants that could be the Croton that Deltaspis tumacacorii has been found on [Edit: I do not believe these are the plants, as they are too low]. Would be good to revisit this spot after a good rain!

The author with Ferocactus wislizenii (fishhook barrel cactus)—also called “compass barrel” due to its habit of leaning to the south.

Tumacacori Mountains, Walker Canyon, Arizona
Our second shot at Deltaspis tumacacorii, which has also been taken in Walker Canyon. We found thick stands of knee-high flowers that we immediately took to be the Croton—just as described by our contact—on which the beetles have been taken. However, we quickly began doubting that ID and decided the plant must be some type of composite. That would make more sense from a host plant standpoint, as all known host plants for Crossidius spp. are composites (subsequently determined to be Pseudognaphalium leucocephalum, family Asteraceae). We looked at the dense stands for quite some time but didn’t see any beetles (or much of anything else) before deciding that we were probably too early—had the beetles already emerged we would have at least found some stragglers. I did take a few Acmaeodera on the flowers (scalaris and rubronotata), as well as a large cantharid (Chauliognathus profundus). I also took single A. amplicollis and A. rubronotata individuals off of a large helianthoid composite (Viguiera cordifolia) and one A. rubronotata on a small yellow composite (Xanthisma gracile). There were a multitude of darkling beetles crawling in the ground—in one spot I saw five individuals of several species all within a one-square foot area. We’ll have one more shot at D. tumacacorii tomorrow at Kitt Peak.

Pseudognaphalium leucocephalum (white rabbit-tobacco) blooms profusely in the dry wash.
Cantharid vs. cantharid! Chauliognathus profundus (right) feeds on a C. lewisi that it has captured.

Day 5 – Pan Tak, Arizona (road to Kitt Peak)
Today’s destination is Kitt Peak to look for Deltaspis tumacacorii and Acmaeodera resplendens, but at the entrance we saw some Isocoma tenuisecta just coming into bloom and decided to check it out. We found a half-dozen Crossidius suturalis but had to really work for them. Alliona incarnata was also nicely in bloom, but I got only one Acmaeodera parkeri? and one A. alicia off of the flowers. There was some Gutierrezia microcephala present, also not quite in bloom, off of which Jeff got a pair of C. suturalis and gave me one. Kinda dry but lots of flowers—wish there would have been more beetles coming to them.

Moneilema sp. on Cylindropuntia imbricata.

Kitt Peak National Observatory, Arizona
Our last chance to find Deltaspis tumacacorii, and I also got a tip that Acmaeodera resplendens has also been taken up here. We immediately found several species of Acmaeodera (amabilis, amplicollis, decipiens, and rubronotata) abundantly on several composite flowers—Heliomeris longifolia, Heterotheca fulcrata, Hymenothrix wrightii, Solidago velutina, and Gutierrezia microcephala, and I found a single A. solitaria on a pink malvaceous flower, but no A. resplendens. We also searched thoroughly for any Croton-like plant for D. tumacacorii but found nothing. The Kitt Peak records of that species are older than the Walker Canyon, Peña Blanca, and Madera Canyon records, and most of the records seem to be in August rather than September, so I suspect we are a bit late for both the species and its host plant. My plan at this point is to return sometime during the middle of August and enlist the help of the source of one of the recent records to accompany me.

View north from Kitt Peak National Observatory.
Multiple species of Acmaeodera visiting flower of Heliomeris longifolia.
Acmaeodera amabilis on flower of Heliomeris longifolia.

Road to Kitt Peak, Arizona
We had noticed Gutierrezia microcephala and some other yellow composites in bloom about halfway up the mountain on our way to Kitt Peak and decided then to stop and take a look around on the way down. I took “down” the mountain, Jeff took “up.” I hadn’t walked very far when I saw what I at first thought was the cantharid Chauliognathus profundus (which I had seen yesterday at Walker Canyon preying on another cantharid) on G. microcephala flowers, but something about it gave me pause—it was too cylindrical and robust. I leaned closer to get a better look and realized it was a cerambycid—one that I did not recognize, a beautiful orange color with black elytral apices and pronotal spots! I quickly grabbed it with my right hand, immediately saw another elsewhere on the bush and grabbed it with my left hand, and as I stood there trying to fumble a vial out of my pack to put them in I saw a third individual taking flight from the bush and spiraling into the air and out of reach! I shouted out to Jeff, who came down to where I was, and showed him what I’d found, and together we decided that it must be Mannophorus forreri—a very uncommonly encountered species and more than adequate consolation for not finding Deltaspis tumacacorii earlier in the day. We spent the next hour searching up and down the roadsides, and I ended up with two more individuals from Gutierrezia flowers and two from Heterotheca fulcrata. Jeff found an additional individual on flowers of Thelesperma sp. I also picked up a few black and white Enoclerus sp., one on flowers of G. microcephala and a mating pair on flowers of Acacia berlandieri. We have a long drive to California in front of us now, and it sure is good going into the drive with such a great find under our belts.

Lower slopes of the road to Kitt Peak Observatory.
Thasus neocalifornicus (giant mesquite bugs) congregate on their host plant (Prosopis glandulosa).

Day 6 – Cajon Pass, California
Finally made it into California! Once we turned off the interstate, we made a quick stop to look at the roadside habitat where we spotted a good stand of Isocoma sp. in full bloom. We looked at quite a few plants but didn’t find any beetles on them. There were also good numbers of Ericameria nauseosa plants as well (host for Crossidius coralinus), but they weren’t quite yet in bloom yet and the only thing I found on them was a mating pair of Agrilus walsinghami. Moved on quickly to the next spot!

Lancaster, California
We met up with Ron Alten and traveled to a classic “Crossidius” collecting site (up to four species have been taken there). We’d stopped at a couple of places on the way there but not found anything—either the host plants were not yet blooming or no beetles were found, so we had the feeling that we might be a week or two early. We had to drive into the habitat a ways before we started seeing host plants—in this case Ericameria nauseosa—but eventually we found a nice large area with the plants in full bloom. It didn’t take long before we found Crossidius coralinus (populations in this area are assigned to subspecies ascendens) on the blossoms. We worked the area for a couple of hours in the heat (97°F) and got a sufficient series for study with some individuals in ethanol for DNA analysis. Males exhibit quite a bit of variability in the degree of development of the elytral markings (thin to moderately expanded sutural marking), while females were quite consistently fully expanded. Males also outnumbered females by 3:1, and all of the individuals I collected were perfect and not damaged—both suggesting that the species is just beginning to emerge. Perhaps that is why we did not find individuals of the other species (mojavensis, suturalis, and testaceus). What I did find, however, was a small trachyderine cerambycid that none of us recognized! It was on the flowers of E. nauseosa—just like C. coralinus—and at first I thought it might be a small, aberrant C. coralinus, but the elytra are completely blue-black and the size was significantly smaller than the smallest C. coralinus male that we saw. I scanned BugGuide and didn’t find anything that matched, so this will have to remain a mystery for now. [Edit: I later determined this to be a heavily marked C. discoideus blandus. In the field I couldn’t see the orange laterals on the elytra.]

Crossidius coralinus ascendens (male) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa.
Crossidius coralinus ascendens (female) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa.
Crossidius coralinus ascendens (mating pair) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa.

Day 7 – Santa Catalina Mountains, Mt. Lemmon, Arizona
We decided we were just a bit to early for things in California and decided to come back to Arizona where we’d been having better success. I wanted to take another shot at Acmaeodera resplendens and had been told that Oracle Ridge Trail was a good locality for them, though maybe a bit late. We began seeing them soon after getting out of the car—unmistakable by their brilliant metallic green to copper color. They were not numerous, so I had to work for them and walked the trail about 2 miles out collecting them off a variety of flowers. The majority were on Bahia dissecta, and I also found occasional individuals of them and other species of Acmaeodera (amabilis, amplicollis, decipiens, and rubronotata) on flowers of Heliomeris longifolia, Heterotheca fulcrata, Hymenothrix wrightii, Ageratina herbarea, Achillea millefolium, sweeping, Cirsium sp., and prob. Viguiera dentata. One other beetle I found was a Megacyllene sp. sitting on a plant under a stand of Robinia neomexicana [Edit: this is M. snowi snowi—another new one for my collection!].

View from Oracle Ridge Trail @ 1 mile north of the trailhead.
Acmaeodera resplendens on flower of Heliomeris longifolia.
Acmaeodera resplendens on flower of Heliomeris longifolia.

Scenic Overlook, Santa Catalina Mountains, Arizona
A quick stop on the way back down the mountain at a spot where we’d seen Gutierrezia microcephala and Heterotheca subaxillaris blooming along the sides of the road. There wasn’t much going on—a couple of Acmaeodera amplicollis and one A. rubronotata on the flowers of H. subaxillaris, one Enoclerus sp. on Solidago velutina, one A. solitaria on Baccharis sarothroides, and another swept from grasses. I did see Peucetia viridans (green lynx spider) feeding on a very bristly tachinid fly.

A clearwing moth (family Sesiidae).
Peucetia viridans (green lynx spider) feeding on a hairy tachinid fly.

Day 8 – Santa Rita Mountains, Montosa Canyon, Arizona (halfway up)
We decided to visit Montosa Canyon to take another shot at Deltaspis tumacacorii and also see if maybe we could find more Acmaeodera resplendens. We didn’t see many flowers along the way up the canyon until about the halfway point. When we did start seeing them we made a quick stop to see what might be on them. I collected some of the more common Acmaeodera (rubronotata, decipiens, and amplicollis) off a few different yellow composite flowers, but we quickly decided to take a look at the higher elevations.

Panoramic view from halfway up the canyon.
Apyrrothrix araxes (dull firetip skipper) on flowers of Baccharis salicifolia.
The larvae of these large skippers feed on oaks.

Santa Rita Mountains, Montosa Canyon, Arizona (entrance to Whipple Observatory)
The road was gated past the km-13 point—Jeff took the roadsides, and I took a ridgetop trail off to the south for a little over a mile. The panoramic views were spectacular, and at the southern terminus I stood at the edge amidst gale-force winds admiring the landscape! Acmaeodera were diverse and abundant, though not quite as abundant as yesterday on Mt. Lemmon or a few days ago on Kitt Peak. However, I did get another nice series of A. resplendens, along with decipiens, rubronotata, amplicollis, and amabilis. Host flowers were collected for most of these: Hymenothrix wrightii, Erigeron neomexicanus, Linum neomexicanum, Heliomeris multiflora, Verbesina enselioides, Heliopsis parvifolia, Heterotheca subaxillaris, and Machaeranthera tanacetifolia. I also collected a small series of A. decipiens perching on grass stems and a very cool-looking wasp—black with a bright orange thorax and whitish abdominal apex [edit: I believe this is the scoliid Psorthaspis portiae].

Vista from the southern terminus of the ridgetop trail off Mt. Hopkins Rd at km 13.
Acmaeodera decipiens on flower of Machaeranthera tanacetifolia.
A curious assemblage of bees on this Heliomeris longifolia flower. They were not active, just sitting. [Edit: these are Dufourea sp. (short-faced bees, family Halictidae)].

Santa Rita Mountains, lower Montosa Canyon, Arizona
We stopped at a spot near the bottom of the canyon on the way out to see what was going on at the lower elevations. The answer—not much! There were a variety of woody shrubs and other plants in bloom, but the area seemed rather “wilty”. I think this area has a lot of potential, we just didn’t hit it at the right time. I did take an impressively huge tarantula hawk, just because.

Fouquieria splendens (ocotillo) resembles cacti but is not a true cactus. Distantly related to persimmons, blueberries and acacias, it is now placed in its own family (Fouquieriaceae).
Apiomerus flaviventris (yellow-bellied bee assassin) with prey.
The prey is a soldier beetle (likely Chauliognathus lewisi).
Robber flies not only mate tail-to-tail, they fly coupled in the position also. This tandem of giant robber flies (possibly Promachus nigrialbus), flew by me and landed in the bushes. The male (right) tried to take flight again and pulled the female’s hind legs off her perch. She stood firm, however, forcing the male to grab a nearby branch with just his from and middle legs and leave his hind legs dangling also. Note that the female is also feeding on a honey bee—so much natural history going on here!

Flats below Montosa Canyon, Arizona
I was a bit disappointed at not finding any beetles at what seemed would be the last collecting stop of the trip. But on our way out we saw a patch of Isocoma tenuisecta in bloom in the lowlands some distance west of the entrance to the canyon—just what we were looking for! Jeff and I each quickly found Crossidius suturalis individuals on flowers of the plants and continued searching up and down along the roadway. We didn’t find any more for awhile but when I got back to the area where I started I spotted another one sitting on a plant on the other side of the barbed-wire fence. I extended my net handle to the max, maneuvered it in position, took an assertive swipe, and got it. Just as I was putting it into the bottle, I saw another one take flight from a plant right beside me. I hadn’t closed the bottle yet but didn’t want the other one to get away, so I capped my thumb over the opening, awkwardly wielded my net into position one-handed, chased after it and took a swing and got it, too! (More often than not these situations end up with me losing both specimens!). There was also a good amount of Hymenothrix wislizeni along the roadside, off the flowers of which I collected several Acmaeodera gibbula, A. disjuncta, and A. rubronotata. This is probably the last collecting locality of the trip, so I’m happy to end up having success with this subspecies of Crossidius (C. suturalis intermedius), which we havn’t found in large numbers on this trip. Just after leaving the site, we saw a bobcat on the side of the road—my first one! Unusual to see one in the middle of the day—it was a small one, must’ve been quite hungry!

Santa Rita Mountains from the highway.

Phoenix, Arizona (epilogue)
Bill Warner was kind enough to host Jeff and I for our last night in Arizona prior to returning home tomorrow. What an amazing collection he has built, and his use of flight-intercept traps in recent years has turned up even more amazing beetles. I was happy to also meet Andrew Johnston and Evan Waite, who joined us for dinner.

Bill Warner, an icon among Arizona beetle collectors, sits amidst newly collected I material waiting to be processed.
Sunset in Phoenix!

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2019

North America’s most “extreme” jewel beetle

When Chuck Bellamy passed away two years ago, he left behind a remarkable legacy of study on the family Buprestidae (jewel beetles) that includes not only his insect collection—surely one of the best in the world in terms of representation of genera and species in the family—but also his extensive library of primary literature. Both of these assets, built over a period of decades, are now housed in the California State Collection of Arthropods at the CDFA Plant Pest Diagnostics Laboratory in Sacramento, California. Chuck, however, was not just a jewel beetle collector and taxonomist—he was also a skilled photographer, focusing (pun intended) largely, though not exclusively, on his beloved jewel beetles. Digital cameras were still far in the future when Chuck began photographing these beetles, and as a result the bulk of his photographic legacy exists in the form of 35mm slides. I was the fortunate recipient of his slide collection, numbering in the thousands, and have been slowly scanning his slides into digital format with the goal to eventually make them available to the larger community of buprestid workers. Some of his best photos were published in a memorial issue of The Coleopterists Bulletin (2014, volume 68, number 1), and I featured a few additional photos in this post shortly before the publication of that issue. There remain slides, however, of many additional species, a large number of which surely represent the only field photographs of live adults. As I convert his slides to digital format, I hope to share some of the more interesting here.

For the first of these featured species, I can think of no better one than Lepismadora algodones. This tiny little jewel beetle is the only representative of the genus, which was not even known until 1986 when it was discovered by Mimi & Rob Velten in the Algodones Sand Hills of southeastern California. The species and genus were described the following year (Velten & Bellamy 1987), making Lepismadora the most recently discovered new genus of jewel beetle in the U.S. The recentness of its discovery is remarkable, since southern California in general and the Algodones Sand Dunes in particular were thought to have been relatively well collected at the time of the beetle’s discovery. Also remarkable is the distant relationship of this monotypic genus to any other North American species; its closest known relative being the genus Eudiadora—known only from Argentina (Bellamy 1991).

Lepismadora algodones

Lepismadora algodones Velten, in Velten & Bellamy, 1987 (Coleoptera: Buprestidae)

Even more remarkable, however, are its highly localized distribution and extreme habitat. The entire type series (one male holotype and 159 paratypes) and all individuals collected since its description have been found only in a single old canal on the west side of the Algodones dunes. Summer temperatures in the dunes routinely reach in excess of 110°F and are even higher in the depressed canal where the beetles are found. Astoundingly, the adults are active only during the hottest hours of the day (ca. 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.), during which time they can be found on the flowers and foliage of fanleaf crinklematTiquilia plicata (Boraginaceae). The reason for the beetle’s highly restricted distribution is a mystery, as the plant on which the beetles are found is rather widespread across the southwestern U.S. and northwestern Mexico. A final mystery is the still unknown larval host plant—it could be T. plicata, but it could just as likely be something completely different.

Algodones Dunes

Old canal on the west side of Algodones Sand Hills, type locality of Lepismadora algodones.

I moved to California a few years after the species was described and, of course, soon set out to find it for myself. I had driven to southern California from my home in Sacramento to meet the late Gayle Nelson (another important mentor of mine), who told me where to find the beetle and what the host plant looked like but also warned me about the extreme heat I would encounter. His advice was to hike the canal until I had half a bottle of water, then turn around and hike back. Mindful of his advice, I arrived at the dunes the next day around mid-morning, filled my water bottle and hydrated myself as much as I could, and climbed down into the canal. The heat was overpowering—more so down in the canal and far beyond anything I had ever experienced to that point, and after quickly recognizing the host plants I began tapping their tiny, prostrate branches over my beating sheet and looking for the beetles. I went as far as I could down the canal, perhaps 200 yards, before I had to turn around, but I had not yet seen any beetles and was starting to lose hope. I continued to tap host plants on the way back, though by then not really expecting to see anything. About halfway back I saw something laying on the ground a short distance ahead. As I approached I saw it was a small plastic vial with a white cap, and when I picked it up I saw inside a dried out T. plicata twig and a dead adult beetle—unmistakably L. algodones! While excited to have found the species, it was at the same time a bit unsatisfying for the specimen to be one that somebody else had collected before me and then lost (for all I know, it could have been Chuck Bellamy, considering that the beetle was apparently intended to be kept alive, possibly for photography!). I slipped the vial into my pocket, started tapping branches again, and found three additional adults in the immediate vicinity of where I had found the vial (and doing much to soothe my dissatisfaction with the first specimen). Those would be the only specimens that I would find that day, though I would succeed in finding another individual on a subsequent visit two years later.

REFERENCES:

Bellamy, C. L. 1991. A revision of the genus Eudiadora Obenberger (Coleoptera: Buprestidae). Proceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington 93(2):409-419 [Biodiversity Heritage Library].

Velten, R. K. & C. L. Bellamy. 1987. A new genus and species of Coroebini Bedel from southern California with a discussion of its relationships in the tribe (Coleoptera, Buprestidae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 41(1):185–192 [pdf].

© Ted C. MacRae 2015

Crossidius hirtipes rhodopus in Adobe Valley, California

Crossidius hirtipes rhodopus | Adobe Valley, Mono Co., California

Crossidius hirtipes rhodopus Linsley, 1955 | Adobe Valley, Mono Co., California

On Day 7 of last August’s Great Basin Collecting Trip, we left Bishop and headed back north to the Mono Basin to look for Crossidius hirtipes rhodopus, a distinctive reddish subspecies known only from the Mono Basin. I’d seen this beetle before—almost 20 years ago during one of several trips to the type locality of Nanularia monoensis (described by my late friend Chuck Bellamy in his 1987 revision of the genus), so we drove south of Mono Lake on Hwy 120 through Adobe Valley on our way to the Benton Range where I last saw them. Of course, C. h. rhodopus occurs more broadly in the Mono Basin than just the Benton Range, and as we drove through the valley we saw robust stands of the beetle’s host plant, yellow rabbitbrush (Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus), in full bloom stretching across the floor of the valley to the towering White Mountains in the distance. Impatience can sometimes be a virtue, and in this case our decision to stop and check the plants rather than waiting until we got to the Benton Range paid off—not only were the beetles out in force, allowing us to photograph and collect to our heart’s content, but we saw only a few beetles on but a single flowering plant during our subsequent visit to the Benton Range. Apparently the rains that had caused such a profusion of bloom in the Adobe Valley had not graced the Benton Range, resulting in the driest conditions I have seen during my several visits there.

This subspecies is one of the more darkly colored subspecies

This subspecies is one of the more darkly colored subspecies

Crossidius h. rhodopus is among the most distinctive of all the C. hirtipes subspecies due to its dark reddish-brown coloration. It closely resembles C. h. nubilus, which we had seen the day before at its only known locality further south at Westgaard Pass between the White and Inyo Mountains, but it is not as dark as that subspecies and lacks the extensive clouding of black on the apical portions of the elytra. The red-brown legs and brown antennae becoming darker at the tip further characterize C. h. rhodopus, originally described as a full species (Linsley 1955) but later regarded as a subspecies of the widely distributed and highly polytopic C. hirtipes LeConte, 1854 (Linsley & Chemsak 1961).

Yellow rabbitbrush (Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus) abounds in the valley, as the White Mountains loom in the background.

Yellow rabbitbrush (Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus) abounds below the magnificent White Mountains.

Those who are unfamiliar with the Mono Basin are missing one of California’s greatest natural treasures. A closed, internal-drainage basin bordered to the west by the massive Sierra Nevada Mountains (with Yosemite National Park lying just over the peaks), to the east by the Cowtrack Mountain, to the north by the Bodie Hills, and to the South by the north ridge of the Long Valley, the eerily beautiful Mono Lake is its most prominent feature. Do not, however, neglect other areas of the basin, which offer their own uniquely dramatic beauty. Adobe Valley, stretching south of the lake towards the White Mountains and famous for the wild mustang that live there, is one such area.

A handsome male rests on yellow rabbitbrush flowers (studio shot).

A robustly handsome female perches a terminal flower cluster of yellow rabbitbrush (studio shot).

REFERENCES:

Linsley, E. G. 1955. Notes and descriptions of some species of Crossidius. The Pan-Pacific Entomologist 31(2):63–66.

Linsley, E. G. & J. A. Chemsak. 1961. A distributional and taxonomic study of the genus Crossidius (Coleoptera, Cerambycidae). Miscellaneous Publications of the Entomological Society of America 3(2):25–64 + 3 color plates.

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

The sublimely beautiful Crossidius coralinus caeruleipennis

Crossidius coralinus caeruleipennis | Inyo Co. nr. Bishop, California

Crossidius coralinus caeruleipennis | Owens Valley nr. Bishop, California

Before driving up into the White Mountains to look for Crossidius hirtipes nubilus and see the grotesquely beautiful trees at Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, we made a short two-mile drive north of our hotel in Bishop, California to try our hand with a C. coralinus subspecies that I referred tangentially in my previous postC. c. caeruleipennis. This has to be among the most beautiful subspecies that I’ve seen yet of what must be considered one of North America’s most attractive species of longhorned beetle. In contrast to the other “orange” subspecies, C. c. monoensis, which we had collected the previous day but that I did not even recognize as C. coralinus because of its color and very small size, I knew exactly what I was looking for on this day as we began to scan the gray rabbitbrush (Ericameria nauseosa) plants that stretched out across the Owens Valley sage grassland as far as the eye could see. At first we were worried that we might be a little late, as most of the plants appeared to be somewhat past peak bloom, but it wasn’t long before we found the first individual sitting atop a flower cluster, and then another, and another...

Males are completely orange.

Males are solid, sublimely orange with strikingly contrasting black legs and antennae.

Crossidius c. caeruleipennis is immediately distinguishable from C. c. temprans (and most of the other C. coralinus ssp. that we collected on the trip further north in Nevada and east in Utah and Colorado) by its bright orange rather than dark red coloration. The subspecies is restricted to the Owens Valley of eastern California and greatly resembles another of the orange subspecies that we collected on the trip, C. c. monoensis. That subspecies is found just a short distance north in the Mono Basin, though at much higher elevations, and is easily distinguished from C. c. caeruleipennis by its smaller average size, by having the black markings of the elytra more expanded apically in females and at least present in males, and by the presence of black bands along the apical and basal margins of the pronotum (Linsley & Chemsak 1961).

Females have a distinct apical blue-black marking on the elytra

Females are distinguished by the apical blue-black marking on the elytra and their shorter antennae.

As it turned out, the beetle was as abundant as any we had seen on the trip to that point. Not that it didn’t require some effort to collect them—they were still rather sparsely distributed among the plants and definitely showed preference for plants that were not as far past peak bloom. However, the habitat was extensive—we could have wandered freely for hours on end without looking at the same plant twice (although that did not stop me from re-checking a few plants that were in peak bloom and seemed to be especially favored). The males were simply gorgeous—a bright, creamy orange that sadly takes on a dull quality in preserved specimens and with long black legs and antennae. The females are no dogs either, less strikingly orange due to the blue-black apical markings on the elytra, but certainly more robust than the males in a subspecies that is already one of the larger of the species. Temperatures climbed rapidly at this relatively southern and lower elevation locality compared to most of the others that we visited during the trip, so the beetles became quite active very quickly after we began to see them. I had only a short window of time in which to attempt field photographs, and while I’m not completely satisfied with the ones that I show here, they were the best that I could manage and still get the blue sky background that I desire for “beetles on flowers” photographs.

Sage grassland and gray rabbitbrush dominate the Owens Valley where C. coralinus caeruleipennis is found.

Gray rabbitbrush dominates the Owens Valley sage grassland where C. coralinus caeruleipennis occurs.

REFERENCE:

Linsley, E. G. & J. A. Chemsak. 1961. A distributional and taxonomic study of the genus Crossidius (Coleoptera, Cerambycidae). Miscellaneous Publications of the Entomological Society of America 3(2):25–64 + 3 color plates.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2014

Clouded beetles amidst spectacular scenery

“Westerly from Westgard Pass is a view equaled in few parts of America. In the middle distance, a dozen miles away and nearly a mile below, lies the fertile Owens Valley, extending at right angles north and south over a hundred miles, and on the farther side, distant a score of miles, tower the snow-clad Sierras, with serrated crests and symmetric domes and peaks outlined against the sky at an approximate height of two and one-half miles vertical above the level of the ocean, and extending north and south far as the eye can see. The vision is rich reward for a journey of a thousand leagues.”—A. L. Westgard, March 1915

View of Westgard Pass from higher up in the White Mountains near Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest.

View to Westgard Pass from higher up in the White Mountains near Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest.

After a morning spent searching for Crossidius coralinus caeruleipennis (perhaps the most sublimely beautiful of the subspecies) in the high desert sage of the wide open Owens Valley floor near Bishop, California, we made the short drive south to Big Pine, turned sharply left, and began the slow, twisting ascent through a narrow gap between the White Mountains to the north and the Inyo Mountains to the south. Eventually reaching an elevation of 7,313 ft,  Westgard Pass serves as access to Earth’s oldest living things! and, in doing so, provides some of the most striking scenery in the entire Basin and Range Province of eastern California.

Westgard Pass, Inyo Co., California.

Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (small plants with yellow flowers) host Crossidius hirtipes nubilus adults.

Field mate Jeff Huether and I no doubt wanted to see the grotesquely beautiful trees growing in Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest and were happy to enjoy the magnificent scenery along the way, but our trek to Westgard Pass had also a strictly entomological purpose—to search for Crossidius hirtipes nubilus, among the most uniquely colored and geographically restricted of the C. hirtipes subspecies. Approaching the summit, the narrow, rocky gorge opened up to a broad expanse of pinyon/juniper woodland, and nestled among the ubiquitous sage we found the plant we were looking for—yellow rabbitbrush (Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus) in full bloom.

Crossidius hirtipes nubilus (male) on flowers of Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus.

Crossidius hirtipes nubilus (male) on flowers of Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (field photo).

It took a while, however, before we found the beetles that we were looking for. Robust gray rabbitbrush (Ericameria nauseosa) plants in full bloom conspicuously dominated the roadsides and demanded our initial attentions, but our only reward was the widespread Crossidius ater. Not even a single Crossidius coralinus specimen could be claimed as consolation. Still, we knew the real quarry was further back from the roadsides, on the much smaller and less conspicuous yellow rabbitbrush that serves as an adult host for Crossidius hirtipes and most of its subspecies. Once we turned our attentions to these smaller plants we found the first adult fairly quickly, but precious few were seen considering the many plants that we examined until we finally zeroed in on one area just south of the summit where the beetles seemed to occur with slightly greater frequency. While not numerous, we eventually found enough beetles for us to declare, “Let’s go see the bristlecone pines!”

In addition to their longer antennae, males are distinguished by xxx.

In addition to longer antennae, males are distinguished by less extensive clouding (studio photo).

This subspecies is among the most distinctive of all the C. hirtipes subspecies due to the combination of dark reddish-brown coloration and extreme, dark clouded area of the elytra (Linsley & Chemsak 1961). It most closely resembles C. h. rhodopus, which occurs further north in the Mono Basin, but that subspecies is not as dark and lacks the extensive clouding of black on the apical portions of the elytra.

Females have the elytral markings xxx.

Females have the markings greatly expanded to almost completely cover the elytra (studio photo).

The dark clouding actually represents an expansion of the dark stripe found along the suture of the elytra of many C. hirtipes subspecies, most of which exhibit sexual dimorphism in the degree to which this stripe is developed. In some subspecies the stripe is present in the females but absent in the males, while in others the stripe is present in both but more fully developed in the female. In C. h. nubilus the sutural stripe reaches an extreme state of development, covering much of the apical two-thirds of the elytra in the male and being so greatly expanded in females that almost the entire elytra are covered except for two small subbasal patches revealing the ground color of the elytra.

REFERENCES:

Linsley, E. G. & J. A. Chemsak. 1961. A distributional and taxonomic study of the genus Crossidius (Coleoptera, Cerambycidae). Miscellaneous Publications of the Entomological Society of America 3(2):25–64 + 3 color plates.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2014

Earth’s oldest living things!

Westgard Pass

A view down towards Westgaard Pass.

I’ve mentioned before that I am never happier than when I am in the field, especially when it’s an extended insect collecting trip. One problem I face on these trips, however, is the conflict between my desire to stay focused on the task at hand (collecting insects) versus indulging my broader natural history interests—landscapes, botany, geology, etc. The urge to explore increases the further west I go, as the landscape becomes more diverse and unfamiliar, and reaches its zenith in the king of landscapes that is California.

Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest

Approaching Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest from the south.

During our Great Basin collecting trip last August, field mate Jeff Huether and I visited the White Mountains near Bishop to look for Crossidius hirtipes nubilus, an isolated subspecies of longhorned beetle (family Cerambycidae) known only from the vicinity of Westgaard Pass. At 7,282′ elevation, the landscape around Westgaard Pass is beautiful enough, but we also knew that lying another 3,000′ above us was one of the most stunning landscapes that anyone even remotely interested in natural history could possibly imagine—Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest (ABPF)!

Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest

Entering the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest.

While Jeff had previously visited this magical place, I’d not yet had the chance despite my five years in California back in the 1990s (too many places, not enough time!). I had mentioned this to Jeff earlier in the trip, so with small but adequate series of C. hirtipes nubilus in our bottles Jeff suggested we take a break from insect collecting and visit ABPF. I was excited enough about the prospect of seeing these ancient trees, but I could not have anticipated just how bizarre and otherworldly a landscape we were about to see!

Bristlecone Pine Ancient Forest

Bristlecones growing in the harshest sites tend to be the longest-lived.

ABPF is, of course, named for the Great Basin bristlecone pines (Pinus longaeva) that occur here, one of three closely related pine species found in scattered, high mountain localities across the western U.S. and widely regarded to be the longest-lived of any non-clonal organism. The oldest known individual tree in the world, measured in 2012 at 5,062 years of age, is a bristlecone that occurs at this very site (although its identity and precise location are kept secret—for sadly obvious reasons), and nearly two dozen additional trees exceeding 4,000 years of age are known to occur here as well. True—there are clonal plants such as creosote bush and quaking aspen that are believed to survive as distinct genotypes for longer periods of time. However, the individual plants themselves are short-lived and quickly replaced by new sprouts from the clonal root mat. A 6,000-year old clonal patch of aspen may be technically older than a 4,000-year old bristlecone, but in my mind only the latter is bona fide ancient!

Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest

Most older bristlecones have trunks with large sections of exposed dead wood.

In the White Mountains, bristlecone pines are restricted to exposures of white dolomite (giving the mountains their name), usually between 10,000′ and 11,500′ in elevation. We could see the sharp demarcation between the white dolomite—heavily colonized by bristlecones—and non-dolomitic bedrock colonized by shrubs but devoid of pines as we approached ABPF from the south.

Bristlecone Pine Ancient Forest

Dead bristlecones stand with main limbs intact for centuries.

Great Basin bristlecones occur also in the Inyo Mountains and other high mountains sites in Nevada and Utah. Most of these other sites have milder climates that offer more favorable growing conditions for the trees, and as a result the trees at these sites grow faster but—ironically—also die younger (Lanner 1999). Greater moisture availability and soils with more organic matter favor denser stands of trees as well as a richer shrub layer. This results in a greater fuel load that can carry fires, which are generally absent in the White Mountains groves with their widely spaced trees and sterile, rock substrate. Moreover, the harsh, dry conditions in the White Mountains inhibit the growth of fungi that can penetrate and colonize trunks at injury points, and there is a general lack of other threats that exist at milder sites such as bark beetles, sapsuckers, and even porcupines!

Bristlecone Pine Ancient Forest

Bristlecone Pine Ancient Forest

Unlike other pines growing at high elevations, such as whitebark pine (Pinus albicaulis), which develops an almost shrubby, beaten-down form in the face of constant battering by fierce winter winds, Great Basin bristlecones grow solidly upright and develop massive branches supporting a spreading crown. As the trees get older, their outer branches become long and pendulous, drooping under the cumulative weight of numerous, tightly packed needle clusters that can remain on the tree for up to 40 years! (The needles of most pines are shed after just a few years.)

Pinus longaeva male catkins

Bright, reddish-brown male catkins emerge near the tips of the densely needeled branches.

Most of the trees at ABPF grow on steep slopes of barren dolomite with virtually no soil layer, and the trunks of older trees usually bear large sections of exposed dead wood. Over the course of their very long lives, erosion of the rocks on the steep slopes around them gradually exposes roots, killing them and resulting in death of the trunk sections and branches that they feed. In many cases nearly the entire trunk is dead, but the tree lives on in a narrow ribbon of living bark snaking or spiraling up the trunk and connecting the last surviving roots to a single living branch.

Pinus longaeva sapling

A bristlecone sapling represents the promise of enduring life in the face of harsh conditions.

Eventually death does come, but it can take centuries for the dry, cold air to decompose the standing carcass and even millenia for the hard, resinous wood to break down completely once the tree finally does fall. The oldest existing wood at ABPF has been dated to more than 9,000 years old! It is almost incomprehensible to imagine stepping over a log that began life as a sapling shortly after the last glacial retreat and the arrival of the first humans to step foot in North America!

Pinus longaeva cone

Bristlecones are named for, well.. the bristles on their cones!

Why do Great Basin bristlecones live so long? It’s tempting to presume that the dry, high elevation environment, with its long, harsh winters and short, cool growing season enables an unusually slow metabolism that somehow translates to longevity. There is no evidence to support this, however. Perhaps characteristics such as its extremely decay-resistant wood play a part, but there are a few other species of pine that are also extraordinarily long-lived, yet still fall far short of the great ages that can be attained by Great Basin bristlecone pine. These include limber pine (Pinus flexilis), which co-occurs with Great Basin bristlecone pine in the White Mountains, but this species maxes out at about 2,000 years of age. Likewise, Rocky Mountain bristlecone pine (Pinus aristata) in Colorado can reach around 2,500 years of age. (Interestingly, limber pine occurs here as well, but in this area it reaches at best only about 1,500 years of age.) Even Great Basin bristlecones themselves growing at other sites, as noted above, are unable to match the longevity of the trees growing here in the White Mountains. Perhaps, as California conifer expert Ronald Lanner remarked, the question is not why these trees “live so long”, but why they “take so long to die”.

Bristlecone Pine Ancient Forest

A raven perches atop a fine, massively trunked specimen.

REFERENCE:

Lanner, R. M. 1999. Conifers of California. Cachuma Press, Los Olivos, California, 274 pp. [description].

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2014

Beetles by Chuck

A few months before his passing last August, Chuck Bellamy asked me if I was would like to have his photographic slide collection. I was, of course, deeply honored by this request, for in addition to becoming one of the most prolific students ever of jewel beetles, Chuck had for years photographed live adult beetles in the field and major type specimen holdings such as those at The Natural History Museum in London and the Muséum national d’histoire naturelle in Paris. As uncomfortable as it was discussing with him matters related to his impending mortality, I also knew that it was important to him that his slides end up in the hands of someone who would appreciate their great scientific value and, hopefully, make them available to the larger community of jewel beetle enthusiasts. A few weeks after he passed, three large, white, cardboard boxes showed up at my office—each one containing six or seven portfolio box binders with several hundred slides.

Chuck will be honored in an upcoming issue of The Coleopterists Bulletin. In addition to personal remembrances and a suite of papers describing new species of beetles named after him, the issue will feature some of Chuck’s best live adult images scanned from slides in the collection that I received. Choosing the photos was not easy, but I eventually narrowed down to 15 that I thought best represented the taxonomic diversity of jewel beetles, ranked them from most to least favorite, sent scanned images to fellow buprestophile Rick Westcott for him to do likewise, and tallied the combined rankings to determine the final selections. Six of the photos will appear on a plate within the issue, and a seventh will appear on the cover. I won’t spoil the surprise here by revealing what species were selected. Rather, I’ll just whet appetites by posting the photos that were not selected (despite which I think you’ll agree that they are still good photos).

Julodis chevrolati Laporte | Sep 2000, W. Springbok, Schaaprivier, Northern Cape Prov., RSA.

Julodis chevrolati Laporte | Sep 2000, W. Springbok, Schaaprivier, Northern Cape Prov., RSA.

Acmaeodera (s. str.) griffithi Fall | Apr 2001, Mohawk Valley, Yuma Co., Arizona, USA.

Acmaeodera (s. str.) griffithi Fall | Apr 2001, Mohawk Valley, Yuma Co., Arizona, USA.

Polycesta (Arizonica) aruensis Obenberger | Apr 2001, Frink Springs, Imperial Co., California, USA.

Polycesta (Arizonica) aruensis Obenberger | Apr 2001, Frink Springs, Imperial Co., California, USA.

Evides pubiventris  (Laporte & Gory) | Jan 1999, Geelhoutbosch, Northern [Limpopo] Prov., RSA.

Evides pubiventris (Laporte & Gory) | Jan 1999, Geelhoutbosch, Northern [Limpopo] Prov., RSA.

Castiarina klugii (Gory & Laporte) | Australia.

Castiarina klugii (Gory & Laporte) | Australia.

Temognatha chalcodera (Thomson) | Western Australia.

Temognatha chalcodera (Thomson) | Western Australia.

Sphaerobothris (s. str.) platti (Cazier) | 1998,  E. Jacumba, San Diego Co., California, USA.

Sphaerobothris (s. str.) platti (Cazier) | 1998, E. Jacumba, San Diego Co., California, USA.

Dystaxia elegans Fall | 1998, Warner Springs, San Diego Co., California, USA.

Dystaxia elegans Fall | 1998, Warner Springs, San Diego Co., California, USA.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2014, photos by Charles L. Bellamy

The wondrously and eerily beautiful Mono Lake

During my recent Great Basin collecting trip, we stopped briefly at one of my favorite places in the world—Mono Lake in eastern California. My last visit was almost 20 years ago, so it was a thrill for me to see the strange tufa moonscape once again after so many years.

Mono Lake

Mono Lake has no eventual outlet to the ocean. As a result dissolved salts in runoff from the surrounding landscape have accumulated in the lake, resulting in water with high pH levels.

Mono Lake

The late day shadows created a black/white tufa landscape.

Mono Lake

Conservation actions have raised lake levels from their historical lows resulting from diversion of water to Los Angeles, but they have still not recovered to their former levels.

Mono Lake

I held the camera barely above the water’s surface to get this shot. It took several tries to get just a thin sliver of perfectly horizontal water. Yes, it would have been easier to hold the camera higher, look through the viewfinder and then crop, but I wanted the widest view possible (besides, doing that would seem like “cheating”).

Mono Lake

Tufa forms when calcium from underwater springs comes into contact with carbonates in the lake water, causing a chemical reaction that produces calcium carbonate (limestone). The calcium carbonate settles around the underwater spring and over time builds a tufa tower. This happens only underwater, and the tufa towers seen here are visible only because of the lowered lake level resulting from water diversion. Unless the lake level is restored completely, these towers are “dead” and will eventually erode away.

Mono Lake

Smoke and haze from the Rim Fire burning near Yosemite boils over the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada.

Mono Lake

Mono Lake supports the second largest nesting population of California gulls after Utah’s Great Salt Lake.

Mono Lake

The water level at Mono Lake has dropped not only in recent years because of humans, but over several thousand years. At the end of the last ice age the water level was hundreds of feet higher than today and the lake 5 times its present size.

Mono Lake

Late day shadows, wildfire haze, and perfectly still waters create a surreal scene.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013