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).
This—the 18th “Collecting Trip iReport”—covers the second of two insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring from June 4–13, during which I placed “bottle traps” and “jug traps” at several locations, and this one from September 3–14 to retrieve the traps and take advantage of any late-season collecting opportunities. I was fortunate on this trip to have longtime collecting buddy and melittologist Mike Arduser joining me, during which we visited the same 15 localities that I visited on my precious trip back in June (one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada) plus two additional localities (one each in northwestern Oklahoma and northeastern New Mexico).
I’m on my way out west with fellow collector Mike—today being only a travel day but with a quick stop in Texas Co., Oklahoma to retrieve bottle traps set back in June and then a night of camping at Black Mesa State Park before continuing the drive west tomorrow. After 7 hours, we needed to stretch our legs and stopped at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge’s Sandpiper Trail—a spot we both have visited several times and know well. Recent rains had the alkaline flats filled with more water than I’ve seen during any previous visit, …
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge, Alfalfa Co., Oklahoma.
… and only a few Ellipsoptera nevadica knausi (Knaus’ tiger beetle) and Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) were seen on the drier margins of the alkaline flats. Several Epicauta conferta (red-cornered blister beetle) were seen lumbering across the path, and a Diogmites angustipennis (prairie robber fly) posed nicely on the trail for pictures as well.
Showy Eustoma russellianum (prairie gentian)—a plant I’ve never seen before—were blooming spectacularly and prolifically in the vegetated areas bordering the alkaline flats.
It was a quick but interesting stop that rejuvenated the legs before we continued our journey westward.
The first “real” stop of the trip was ~5 miles north of Goodwell in Texas Co., Oklahoma where I placed three white bottle traps in early June hoping to capture the very rare Acmaeodera robigo, which had been photographed here on flowers of Melampodium leucanthemum (blackfoot daisy) and the photos posted on BugGuide. I was never able to contact the photographer, but since bottle traps are so effective at sampling species of Acmaeodera I reasoned placing three traps here (one at the precise spot and two more several hundred yards to the north and to the south) would give me the best chance of collecting it. It had already been dark for an hour before we reached the spot, but despite the darkness and late hour I had no trouble finding each of three traps. I was happy to see all three traps still in place, undisturbed, and filled to the brim with insects. I tried to pick out the larger insects (mostly crickets and grasshoppers) and stir through the remaining contents of each trap a bit to see if I could detect any Acmaeodera, but the majority of insects appeared to be small blister beetles, followed by bees. The darkness made further sorting impossible, so I bagged the contents of each trap and saved for later sorting. [Edit: later sorting found only a couple of Acmaeodera mixta? in just one of the traps and no A. robigo.]
We arrived at our first overnight spot—Black Mesa State Park—quite late (~11:30 pm) and quickly setup camp before retiring for the evening. In the middle of the night I got up, came out of the tent, and was greeted by an incredible amazing starscape that is normally only seen during winter. Taurus was already high in the sky, and Orion was well above the horizon with a brightly shining Jupiter not too far to its left.
Night sky at Black Mesa State Park. Orion has risen, with Taurus above and Jupiter just rising in the lower left.
Day 2
In the morning, a canyon towhee (Melozone fusca) kept us company as we prepared breakfast and then broke camp for another mostly travel day
Canyon towhee (Melozone fusca).
Our destination this evening is Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, to which we will travel by way of northeastern New Mexico and then southwestern Colorado.
Abandoned homestead outside of Clayton, New Mexico.
Shortly after crossing into Colorado we made a pit stop for ice and I began searching the pavement around the gas station looking for beetles that may have come into the previous night’s lights. I didn’t find any cerambycids but I did find a small tenebrionid beetle that didn’t look like familiar to me.
Crossing the Sangre de Cristo and then the San Juan ranges were as spectacular a mountain crossings as any that Colorado has to offer, and a coffee stop in Pagosa Springs (at Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie) provided not only good coffee and pastries to fuel me for the rest of the drive to Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, but interesting and creatively framed art work to treat the eyes while waiting for our orders.
“Art wall” in Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Butterflies”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Gentleman Frog”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Cow”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
Weather during the drive had been good all day, but on the final approach to Devils Canyon Campground the skies began looking worryingly threatening. The last time I came here (early June) I had intended to camp here but got rained out and took a motel in town. I did not want a repeat of that, so we kept our fingers crossed and made the final drive to the campground. Although still threatening, it was not actually raining when we arrived (unlike last time), so we took our chances and set up camp. No sooner than that did the rain start! Fortunately, the tent was already up, so it just meant that instead of cooking dinner at the site, we would instead go to town and have dinner (Dave’s BBQ). When we got back to camp, the rain had stopped (although we could tell that it had rained hard), so I decided to walk the roads looking for night-active beetles. I knew this was probably a fruitless exercise—by then the post-rain temps at this 7000’ site were already down to the mid-50s, but it would give me a chance to stretch my legs after two straight days of driving, and I could also take that opportunity to retrieve the bottle and jug traps that I had set back in June. The bottle trap was disappointing, especially after seeing the ones I’d set near Goodwell, Oklahoma filled to the brim with insects—just a handful of bees (for Mike) and no beetles of any kind. This was surprising given the many Acmaeodera I have collected in alpine habitats just like this (Ponderosa pine and Gambel oak). The SRW-baited jug trap, on the other hand, was nicely (if not overwhelmingly) productive (Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., small elaphidiines, small acanthocine with very long antennae, Xestoleptura?)—enough to make it worth the effort. I was also pleased to see that the jug trap was in still place and intact with the catch in good shape despite three months in the field. The bait bottle was still about half full of red wine, but since the propylene glycol had dried the trap was no longer trapping insects. As I’d expected, no night-active insects were seen in the way to the traps or on the way back.
Day 3
It was a chilly morning, and though it had not rained since our arrival last night the skies remained overcast. The day’s plan was to continue west to the Ponderosa Grove Campground in southwestern Utah (north of Kanab), but with only five hours of driving required to get there we would have time to make a few stops along the way. Before leaving I started checking the Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), several of which had begun blooming in the campground, and found a few Crossidius coralinus and Acmaeodera amabilis on the flowers. I was tempted to suggest staying put—at least for a short time—and exploring the area a little more fully, but my real objectives were further west and I elected to stick with the plan.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Acmaeodera amabilis (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
One of the stops I’d made along this way last June was 4 miles east of Bluff in San Juan Co., Utah, where the famous Mont Cazier had collected what would later be described as Agrilus utahensis. I did not find it in June (nor did I fully expect to, since the record was from late July), and I was equally skeptical about my chances this time given how much later it was in the season. On the way here, we got caught behind an oversized load on the highway that was so big it required three highway patrol chaperone vehicles to clear the road ahead. Going at about half the speed limit, I worried we might have to follow it the entire way to our turnoff, which would nearly double our travel time to the first spot. Fortunately, the caravan pulled over at one point to let the long train of trsffic that had accumulated behind it pass, and we were on our way (the convoy would later pass us at the very spot where we had stopped to collect).
Oversized convoy!
The location was disappointing dry and crispy, although Gutierrezia sarothroides (broom snakeweed) was coming into bloom. Sweeping it eventually produced about a dozen Crossidius pulchellus and two other beetles (a clytrine leaf beetle and a weevil), and Mike collected a handsome series and diversity of bees off of flowering Eriogonum sp. (buckwheat).
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Our drive afterwards through southeastern Utah and northeastern Arizona took us through some of the most amazing scenery that the American West has to offer—red sand/siltstones sculpted through the eons by wind and rain have created a landscape that can only be described as “planetary.”
Monument Valley, southeastern Utah.
Eventually, the dramatic landscape gave way to a more monotonous series of desert plateaus periodically interrupted by dramatic descents and canyons as we got deeper into north-central Arizona. Though pleasing to the eye, there were few signs of greenery of flowers to tempt the passing entomologist except occasional stands of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) beginning to bloom in higher elevation spots. We kept our nose to the grindstone, hoping to see better things once we passed through Page and crossed back into south-central Utah, but the landscape became even crispier, with a stop about 20 miles northwest of Page to look for Nanularia brunnea on Eriogonum inflatum (which I had found two years ago in late June) being a total bust. We expected/hoped that the higher elevations around Ponderosa Grove Campground (~6000’) would provide better collecting and continued there without haste. Our expectations/hopes proved well-founded, as blooming rabbitbrush was seen with greater frequency as we traveled north of Kanab and even more so along Hancock Rd approaching the campground. We took a few moments to scout out a good campsite and setup camp before spending the rest of the available daylight hours exploring. For me the rabbitbrush was most tempting, and scouting plants in the campground and the vicinity east produced small but nice series of Crossidius coralinus and Typocerus balteatus. As I was doing so, a sinking sun and virga to the east produced an impressive rainbow that became irresistible for photography—not only as a subject itself but as a backdrop for the beetles I was finding.
Rainbow at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Typocerus balteatus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
After some downtime back at camp (and grilled sirloin steaks for dinner), I did my customary nighttime patrol to check for night-active insects. This campground was especially productive when I did this back in June and found several Zopherus utahensis and other tenebrionids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pines that are the namesake of this campground.
A near-full moon rises over our campsite at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
This time was no different—while I found only a single Z. utahensis, I did also find a few specimens of Coelocnemis sulcata, including a mating pair, on the trunks of the trees …
Coelocnemis sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) mating pair on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
… and a single Embaphion sp. on the ground at the base of another. There are several massively-trunked Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) in the campground as well, on which another C. sulcata was found. Despite this success and the relatively early hour, I was exhausted and called it quits for the night and retire. We will spend the entirety of the day here tomorrow, so I’ll have another chance to check the tree trunks again tomorrow night.
Day 4
After a relaxing morning at the campsite (during which time I caught up on my field notes while enjoying double-pour-through coffee), I walked over to the sand dune-adjacent woodlands to retrieve the traps that I’d set there back in June and brought them back to the campsite for sorting. I was happy to see Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) and many other plants in bloom and looked forward to checking them more closely after servicing the trap catches.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) blooming in sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
The yellow bottle trap had ~15-20 beetles, including several Acmaeodera spp., a lepturine cerambycid, and a tiny Dichelonyx-like scarab (a relief after getting skunked with the bottle trap I’d set in Devils Canyon). There were also a fair number of bees in the trap, which I gave to Mike. The SRW-baited jug trap also did well, containing Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., several Psyrassa sp., and another colorful little lepturine along with several Euphoria inda, several small clerids, a mantispid, and numerous small beetles I take to be oedemerids. After processing the trap catch, I went back over to the woodlands and dunes, spending more than three hours collecting off the flowers of E. nauseosa and other flowers.
Typocerus balteatus was found not uncommonly on the flowers in most of the areas that I covered, while Crossidius coralinus and C. suturalis were found a bit more sparingly.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Crossidius suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
I also found Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of Grindelia squarrosa (curlycup gumweed), Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), and E. nauseosa, but they were limited to the woodlands and not seen in the dunes.
Acmaeodera rubronotata (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster).
I also found several individuals of an interesting little weevil on the rabbitbrush flowers, its gray/black longitudinally striped body making a good subject for photography (for which I also brought back a live A. rubronotata and a mating pair of ambush bugs), and spent a bit of time photographing some of the other blooming plants in the area.
By the time I feel like I’d gotten a good enough look at the area, nearly four hours had gone by and I was famished. Sardines and Triscuits did the trick, after which we did a quick ice run into town and back—the highlights being an authentic Sinclair dinosaur (he’s smiling!) and an real (though non-functioning) pay phone.
The famous “Sinclair dinosaur.”
He’s smiling!
An authentic (though non-functional) pay phone.
Returning to the campground, I walked with Mike back into the dunes to retrieve his bowl traps. I had hoped that some of them would pick up Acmaeodera (as is often the case with bowl traps and why I have started utilizing them on my own collecting trips), but the only species that would be out in this area at this time of season would be A. rubronotata, which I had already collected earlier in the day (there were none).
Mike services a “bowl trap.”
After a period relaxing (with a cold beer and burgers hot off the grill), I began my customary night walk. I have yet to find a cerambycid on tree trunks at night here, but still I enjoy night walks here as much as anywhere due to the consistent presence of ironclad beetles and other tenebrionoids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pine trees that give the campground its name.
Another near-full moon rises over the campsite.
Tonight would be no different—I found Zopherus uteanus on just the second tree that I examined (right in our campsite), and I would also find two species of tenebrionids in the vicinity on the trunks of ponderosas (Coelocnemis sulcata and Eleodes obscura sulcipennis) and a third species (ID unknown) on the ground at the base of one of them.
Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Coelocnemus sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
At that point, I decided to go outside of the loop towards a couple of large P. ponderosa at the entrance, and on the way I found another E. obscura sulcipennis on the trunk of a massively old Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper). There was nothing on the P. ponderosa trees that I had targeted, but nearby was another large one, and high up on the trunk (as far as my fully extended net could reach) was another Z. uteanus, and several C. sulcata—including a mating pair—were found on the ground at its base.
At that point I decided to limit my tenebrionoid collecting to only Zopherus unless I saw species that I hadn’t seen before, so I passed by some additional tenebrionids of the same species as the previous on a large P. ponderosa in the RV loop, then saw a large, multi-branched Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) that I thought might be interesting to check. I did not find any beetles on it, but I did locate at eye level—with considerable difficulty!—a male Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket). I was not only able to take a photograph of it with its wings fanned but also record an audio track up close (posted on iNaturalist).
Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket—family Oecanthidae) male singing on trunk of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) at night (song).
Returning to the tent loop, I checked all of the large P. ponderosa trees and junipers that had—during the past visit and last night—been so productive, but the only beetles I found was a very small tenebrionid that, fortunately, was yet another species I had not previously seen here (ID unknown). After two hours of searching tree trunks, I called an end to the night, which also meant a close to the collecting at this spot—tomorrow we will drive to Kyle Canyon in southern Nevada!
Day 5
Our exit from Ponderosa Grove took us through more of the spectacular canyonland that southern Utah is famous for and past the incredible Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park (so spectacular it is that I think it could—despite its small size—be a national park). A dramatic descent down into the Virgin River valley and the town of Hurricane was only the first such descent—the second one being even more dramatic as I-15 dropped off the edge of the Colorado Plateau along the Virgin River Gorge. The remainder of the drive to Kyle Canyon northwest of Las Vegas was mindnumbing in its contrast—an endless stretch of interstate highway through a vast expanse of low, hot, featureless desert punctuated at regular intervals by palm tree dotted oases, each with a gaudy, glittering casino at its center. Driving up Kyle Canyon Rd put an end to this, however, as each thousand foot gain in elevation brought with it an increasingly interesting landscape. At about 4500’ elevation, I had set a couple of bottle traps—one yellow, one blue—hoping to catch the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (whose namesake—Mike Raschko—I had happened to meet at Ponderosa Grove Campground last June a few days before I set the traps!). Mike R. had also placed a bottle trap (white) at the site and was kind enough to reset it for me so I would have three colors sampling the area. Both of my traps were still in place, intact, and filled with numerous Acmaeodera that I take to be A. quadrivittata (along with many bees for Mike A.) and the yellow also containing a larger species that I didn’t immediately recognize (not unusual since I have never collected this area). Unfortunately, I did not see any specimens that appeared to be A. raschkoi, and even more unfortunately the white bottle trap had been pulled from the ground (although I was able to recover a few A. quadrivittata that were still inside the trap). Not much else was going on at the site—only a few things in sparse bloom but no beetles visiting the flowers, nor was there any rabbitbrush around on which to look for Crossidius.
We got a scare when we arrived at the campground and saw a sign at the entrance saying “Campground Full.” This was bad—if this campground was full, then surely the much more heavily used one down below was also full, and I didn’t look forward to spending the rest of the afternoon scrambling for a campsite somewhere in the Spring Mountains. We drove through the campground anyway, and, in fact, there were many campsites available! Looks like somebody forgot to do their job!
“Campground Full” sign at a not-full Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
Crisis averted, we selected a nice spot overlooking the desert below and set up camp. Cool evening temps come early at this high elevation (~8300’), so with the remaining afternoon hours I retrieved and sorted my SRW-baited jug trap, finding several Tragosoma sp. but, curiously, not a single other longhorned beetle (or any beetle for that matter). Searching around the area afterwards, I extracted a dead Dicerca tenebrosa partial carcass in its emergence hole in a stump of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine), then went back down to the area I had collected last time, focusing especially on the two large half-dead Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) trees on which I had seen damage from the rarely collected Semanotus juniperi (on one of which I collected three adults later that night). There was nothing on the first (the one on which I found the beetles), but at the second one I saw a large wind-thrown branch that I had not noticed last time. It exhibited S. juniperi damage and emergence holes on the lower part, and chopping into it I quickly recovered a dead but intact carcass of yet another S. juniperi adult. Further chopping turned up nothing, and I was about to walk away when I thought maybe I should cut into the upper part of the branch as well to look for evidence smaller woodboring species. Doing so, I quickly encountered a Chrysobothris sp. larva, and with that I decided to bring the entire upper part of the branch back for rearing. There wasn’t much else going on—few plants were in flower and nothing was seen on the trunks of trees or various pieces of downed wood that were laying about, so I went back to camp.
Alpine pinyon/juniper woodland at Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
An elevation of 8300’ affords spectacular views into the desert below.
Later in the evening, we watched a spectacular moonrise, then enjoyed “surf ‘n’ turf” (grilled sirloin steak and salmon) before I started up my customary night walk to check tree trunks for night-active beetles.
Angel Peak Radar Station at sunset.
“Corn Moon” rising.
Peeking through the trees.
Last time here when I did this, I found not only S. juniperi but also a few Zopherus uteanus, so I was hopeful for my chance tonight despite the lateness of the season. It started out well—on the first P. monophylla tree that I checked (right at our campsite), I found Oeme costata and a weevil.
Oeme costata (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of P. monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Those would be the last live beetles I would see (other than an occasional tenebrionid beetle, none of which I collected). However, I would still find success—back at the J. osteosperma on which I had found three S. juniperi back in June, I found three more. They were not alive, however, but dead carcasses at the base of the tree—two nearly completely intact and the other partially so.
Western deer mouse (Peromyscus sonoriensis) at night.
Day 6
We had planned to visit few localities at middle and lower elevations but stopped to check out the profusely-blooming Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) right outside the campground entrance for bees and beetles. Curiously, hardly anything was seen on the flowers despite the by then late-morning hour, sunny skies, and temps above 70°F. It seemed odd to me that there were no Crossidius beetles on the blooms, and the thought occurred to me that maybe the occurrence of E. nauseosa in the area itself could be a relatively recent phenomenon since it is only seen—albeit profusely—along the roads and highways in the area but nowhere further within the native habitats. With nothing going on, we pushed down to the lowest elevation point that caught our eye on the way in yesterday—the Step Ladder Trailhead at ~6700’.
Again, E. nauseosa was blooming profusely around the parking lot, but a quick perusal made it clear the situation would be similar here as well. Mike, on the other hand, was having good success collecting bees off of E. nauseosa and especially Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), so I was content to stay and refocus by searching for infested wood. I noticed a lot of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) and quickly found one with a dead but still attached, fully-barked branch. I broke the branch off the tree, and there in the broken butt of the branch was a large chrysobothroid larvae! This quickly prompted a decision to collect the infested branch and put it up for rearing. A second larvae was found in a small dead (but still fully-barked) tree nearby, which was added to the bundle. While this was going on, Mike found what seemed to be Agrilus blandus? in his net while sweeping bees from the flowers of G. sarothrae. I recall collecting this species in southern California in flowers of Eriogonum (wild buckwheat), so finding it on other flowers—particularly if Eriogonum is in the area (but not seen because it was not blooming) did not seem out of the question. My much more thorough sweeping of the plants around the area where he found it, however, produced no additional specimens. I was also interrupted in my sweeping attempts by a couple of curious bystanders—one a woman from Ukraine who wondered what the plant was that I was sweeping (I told her “broom snakeweed”) and what it was good for (“brooms” I wryly replied and then quickly clarified its role in the ecosystem), and then offered me a beetle collecting tip by telling me about large beetles they call “bombers” and that bite people sitting in spas in Southern California (I presume these are diving beetles in the family Dytiscidae); and the other a young man who was pleased to hear I was from St. Louis because he used to live there when he was married to his ex-wife. This all happened while I was in the middle of my sweeps, so I held the net bag firmly to keep insects from escaping my net until I could resume my sweeping. Eventually, I gave up the ghost and resumed my search for dead, infested wood, eventually finding a Cercocarpus ledifolius (curl-leaf mountain mahogany) tree with one recently-dead and one older dead branch, the former buprestid-infested (verified by cutting into the wood and finding young buprestid larvae) and which I collected for rearing.
View of Fletcher Peak from Step Ladder Trailhead.
After lunch back at the campground and some time spent processing specimens (as well as enjoying the antics of our resident golden-mantled ground squirrel [Callospermophilus lateralis certus]), …
Mount Charleston golden-mantled ground squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis certus).
… I wanted to check out the nearby Deer Creek Picnic Area where I’d seen a lot of iNaturalist observations (suggesting it might be an interesting place). At first all I saw was the massive parking lot below an equally massive road-cut slope—the only thing that looked like a trail was a steep drop down to the creek below. I checked it out, only to find it dead-ending at the creek and clambered back up.
A massive Ponderosa pine looms above.
Then I saw a gravel trail behind the guardrail on the opposite side of the highway and found it leading to a paved path up the creek. Much of the trail was covered with a deep layer of gravel from flooding (and indeed some of the picnic tables were also nearly completely buried). I hiked the trail as it ascended alongside the creek under massive ponderosa pines until it dead-ended at a gravel road and turned around. The only plants in flower was Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), and it was only near the highway, and while I saw no insects that I wished to collect, I did see a large Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly) that frustrated my attempts to photograph it until I finally “pre-set” the focus, exposure, and zoom and quickly fired off a few shots at the distance I’d set it for as soon as the fly landed. The virtual lack of insect activity here confirmed what we’ve been seeing in the area as a whole, so I’ll be anxious to leave tomorrow and head for (hopefully) greener pastures at Leeds Canyon back in southwest Utah.
Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly—family Tachinidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Day 7
The drive from Kyle Canyon to Leeds Canyon was essentially a straight shot on I-15—normally a recipe for extreme boredom; however, coming back up through the Virgin River Gorge was a different, even more awe inspiring experience than the descent two days earlier. Ascending such a steep narrow canyon has the breathtakingly tall canyon bluffs looming high overhead, dwarfing the traffic, even the largest semi tractor trailers, snaking up below, whereas descending into a seemingly bottomless chasm feels a little more “dangerous.” We arrived at Leeds Canyon relatively early thanks to the “only” 3-hours drive. The area looked very dry, but a variety of blooming plants kept us optimistic as we made our way up the canyon road towards Oak Grove Campground at the top.
Leeds Canyon in southwestern Utah.
Sadly, optimism turned to dismay in an instant when we encountered a “Road Closed” sign about halfway up—a result of the ongoing fire risk that has bplagued the area this season. We checked to see if the campground on the other side of the mountain range was available, only to learn that it was closed due to fire damage. At that point, our decision was made for us—we would need to continue another two hours to the Kaibab Plateau where I had my last sets of traps to retrieve and where we could camp at Jacob Lake. While we were here, however, we took the opportunity to stop at a spot along Leeds Creek and see what we could find.
Oak Grove Rd crosses Leeds Creek in the lower part of Leeds Canyon.
Several different plants were in bloom, on which I’d hoped to find either Acmaeodera or longhorned beetles, the first that I looked at being Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), but I only saw small dasytines (a few of which I collected). Nothing was seen on Solidago velutinus (velvety goldenrod) or Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberry leaf globemallow) flowers, but then Mike came up with a Crossidius discoideus on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Careful searching of the plants in the surrounding area atop a small hill turned up an additional half-dozen individuals, but none were seen on any of the plants further up or down along the road. By this time, we’d spent about an hour and decided to finish the additional 2-hours drive needed to get to Jacob Lake.
Megaphorus sp. (family Asilidae).
Historic home in nearby Harrisburg, Utah.
Some of the western U.S.’s worst fires this season occurred on Arizona’s Kaibab Plateau. The Dragon Bravo Fire destroyed over 100 structures on the Grand Canyon’s North Rim—including the historic Grand Canyon Lodge and the North Rim Visitor Center, while the White Sage Fire simultaneously burned significant areas of Kaibab National Forest north and east of Jacob Lake. It was the latter that, unfortunately, swept across both of the sites where I had placed traps a month earlier in June, so I was not optimistic about the likelihood that they had survived. Fortunately, the fires did not reach the immediate vicinity of Jacob Lake, so the campground was unaffected and—unusual in my experience—nearly devoid of people. After setting up camp, I went back north into the burn zone to see if my traps 1) had survived and 2) could be retrieved. The area around the site was almost completely destroyed, with charred black skeletons of trees dotting blackened soils devoid of any vegetation.
Aftermath of the White Sage Fire in the Kaibab National Forest.
I had low expectations for the traps at this site even before the fires, as the area had already burned several years early and was in the early stages of recovery (I had decided to place traps here anyway because I wanted to see what the woodboring beetle fauna in a recovering area might look like).
Blackened trunks punctuate a stark landscape.
I continued walking the 2-track toward the trap location surveying the damage, came around a bend, and saw it—a lone, still-green pinyon pine with my jug trap hanging from a branch and a bottle trap, its yellow funnel only slightly heat deformed, still planted in the soil beneath the tree!
A lone green tree amongst the destruction—with my traps in the tree and below it both intact!
At first I was elated, but then I saw the jug trap reservoir was dry and almost completely empty save for a few dried beetle carcasses—the trap had survived the fires, but the associated winds had blown the trap and dumped the contents (none of which could be detected on the ground beneath). The bottle trap, on the other had, looked to be full of insects with plenty of liquid still in the reservoir, so I was hopeful that I would retrieve some good specimens from it. This proved to be the case (sort of!) as I pulled a few Anthaxia sp., a meloid, and lots of bees (for Mike) from the trap. The dried carcasses in the SRW-baited jug trap turned out to be an elaphidiine & several silphids.
After leaving the first trap site and driving towards the second (a few miles east of Jacob Lake), I saw little to no fire impacts as I continued east of Jacob Lake. However, as I got closer to the site I began to see impacts—first along the ridge above, then down the slope and engulfing the area where I had placed my traps. Fortunately, the fire did not seem to have been as severe in the immediate area, so I remained hopeful.
Intact jug trap in burned woodland east of Jacob Lake, Arizona.
The bottle trap was found first and was in much the same condition as the bottle trap at the previous location—it’s blue funnel slightly heat-deformed, but the reservoir was filled with liquid and insects. Later sorting yielded an Acmaeodera diffusa?, a Melanophila sp., a couple of Anthaxia sp., a clerid, and lots of bees (for Mike). The Melanophila sp. was especially welcome—known collectively as “fire beetles” for their attraction to active fires, its presence in the trap may have been been a direct result of the fire. The SRW-baited jug trap was quickly found next, and much to my relief the trap was not only intact and undamaged but also filled with insects (in fact, the propylene glycol had not even completely dried). Later sorting would yield only a single longhorned beetle (plus a silphid and a Euphoria inda), but that longhorned beetle would prove to be the catch of the trip—Calloides nobilis mormonus! I have reared a single individual of the nominate subspecies from fire-damaged oak collected in Missouri, so I suspect the presence of this beetle is also a direct result of the fires that swept through the area—a satisfying irony.
Calloides nobilis mormonus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to sweet red wine-baited jug trap.
Back at camp and after another “surf & turf” dinner of sirloin steak and salmon, I did my customary nighttime walk to look for night-active beetles on the ground and in tree trunks. I had good luck with this here back in June, finding a Zopherus uteanus and several other beetles, but tonight’s catch consisted of just a single Temnochila sp. (family Trogosittidae) and a single weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) crawling on the large trunks of Pinus ponderosa.
Unidentified weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 8
I’d seen a fair amount of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) in bloom at the second site the previous day when I retrieved my traps but didn’t see any insects (or, at least, beetles or bees) on them. I figured this was due to the early evening hour, so we decided to come back during the day to try again. The E. nauseosa flowers were still, puzzlingly, devoid of insects (save for honey bees and enormous numbers of a large, black, bristly tachinine fly—possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta).
Tachinine fly (possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta—family Tachindae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Like at Kyle Canyon, the absence of Crossidius spp. on E. nauseosa flowers was surprising, as I have seen them on this plant at almost every other location I have ever checked. You can’t make things appear no matter how hard you look, however, so we continued into some openings farther up the slop and encountered a few other plants in bloom. One was Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), on the flowers of which I found a few small beetles of an unknown family. Nearby I saw several dead main branches in a clump of Quercus gambelli (Gambel oak)—cutting into them revealed a very small woodboring beetle larvae, so I collected several of the stems for rearing. Coming back down the slope I found a single cryptocephaline on the flower of Eriogonum racemosa (redroot buckwheat) and a single Acmaeidera rubronotata on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed)—the latter on which Mike had also found a single Crossidius discoideus. (This seems to be the first record of any species of Crossidius from the Kaibab Plateau! Maybe the other species are here as well but are not quite out yet at this relatively early date in fall.)
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) collected on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
We were getting ready to leave when I spotted a large, fallen Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) with the twigs brown but still attached (indicating it might be the right “amount” of dead to host woodboring beetles. Damage by such could be seen on the smaller branches, and cutting into them confirmed the presence of larvae and led to a second wood-cutting/bundling session to bring the beetle-infested twigs and branches back for rearing.
Chasing more floriferous pastures, we went back up to higher elevations and stopped at a spot close to the campground where we 1) saw a great diversity of plants in bloom and 2) could safely pull off the highway. A huge diversity of blooming plants were seen (from which Mike collected ~20 species of bees), but the only beetles of interest that I saw and collected were numerous small black/red cryptocephalines on the flowers of Eriogonum racemosum (redroot buckwheat). After Mike was satisfied he’d sufficiently sampled the diversity of bees at the site, we looked for another place to collect.
We drove south towards DeMotte Campground on Hwy 67, but much of the landscape was complete devastation due to the fires and no access was allowed beyond Kaibab Lodge. It was depressing to see the immense scale of destruction and loss of natural resources, but as one forest worker that Mike talked to put it, “It’s just trees, and he didn’t have to call anybody’s family [i.e., there was no loss of life].” We then drove back down past my second trap location where we had collected earlier in the day to see if we could find better stands of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) on which to look for more Crossidius discoideus (still represented in the area by the single individual Mike had collected earlier). We drove through even more complete and utter destruction but eventually found undamaged areas at about 6600’ elevation. Not only was there G. sarothrae in bloom, but also Chrysothamnus visicidiorus (green rabbitbrush) and Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush)—all three species serving as hosts for various Crossidius and providing a perfect scenario for comparing and contrasting the sometimes-tricky-to-identify plants! The promise of Crossidius, however, would not be realized, and after an hour of searching—finding only a lone weevil on the flowers of E. nauseosa—did I finally admit defeat and concede that Crossidius from this after would have to come some other time.
Inflorescences of Gutierrezia sarothrae (left), Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (middle), and Ericameria nauseosa (right). Note the distinct ray florets of G. sarothrae and blue-green leaves of E. nauseosa.
I hadn’t planned to do my customary nighttime walk this evening—my motivation waning after the less than meager success of the previous night, continuing relative absence of beetle life I’d seen during the day, and temps now dropping towards the 50s. A cute but shy Uinta chipmunk in our campsite captured my photographic interest as we relaxed, and the setting sun turned the clouds a stunning pink!
An Uinta chipmunk (Neotamias umbrinus) climbs a Ponderosa pine to stay as far from my camera as possible!
However, as night fell the siren song of the nighttime walk began singing its tune and I was unable to resist.
The setting sun turns the clouds an exceptional pink.
It turned out to be a more successful night than I’d expected—I found a small species of tenebrionid [Edit 10/1/25: Eleodes pimelioides] on the rocks surrounding the campsite, and there turned out to be dozens of the little buggers crawling though the pine duff in the campground.
Eleodes pimelioides (family Tenebrionidae) in alpine coniferous forest at night.
Nothing else was seen, however, and since tomorrow would be a long travel day I called it an early night.
Day 9
On a mostly travel day, we tried to take a big bite out of the many miles that still separate us from St. Louis, where we planned to be in three days time. We got another look at the devastation east of Jacob Lake before reaching the dramatic drop off the Kaibab Plateau and down into the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument—their massive red bluffs accompanying us all the way to Mojave Canyon. Just south of there as the highway climbed up and out of the valley, we made a quick stop to remove excess clothing (having gone from high elevation to low), and alongside the road I spotted a Crossidius pulchellus on the flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed). This is the furthest southwest I have collected this species, and I was tempted to continue looking to see if I could find the other G. sarothrae associate—C. discoideus—as well. We still had a long drive ahead of us, however (destination Mills Rim Campground in northeastern New Mexico), so I resisted temptation and we continued the drive.
The Vermilion Cliffs, stunning as they were, still weren’t the highlight of the drive. That honor would come from the moonscape formations along Hwy 89 as it followed the Echo Cliffs and then turned east onto Hwy 160 towards Tuba City. We then passed through a series of stunning plateaus and drops on Hwy 264 as it passed through the Navajo and Hopi Reservations. One abandoned house as we dropped down off the Ganado Mesa was especially picture-worthy.
Abandoned home on the Ganado Plateau near Kykotsmovi Village, Arizona.
Eventually we crossed the state line at Picture Rocks into New Mexico, and, suddenly, the landscape seemed more “tame” and less hostile. I don’t normally like interstates, and the stretch of I-40 to Albuquerque did nothing to change my opinion of them, but I must admit that I-25 north towards Santa Fe was among the most picturesque I have ever seen. Eventually, we left the mountains and found ourselves once again on the western edge of the Great Plains—its vast featureless expanse a true contrast to the landscape we had witnessed throughout most of the day. This apparent homogeneity, however, is misleading—tucked away in places unknown to most are some remarkable natural areas, and Mills Rim is one such place. We arrived after dark, so the explorations of its hidden charms would have to wait until the next day, but after getting camp set up I did a short nighttime walk to see what was out and about.
Night sky at Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., northeastern New Mexico.
Only one beetle, Stenomorpha sp. (family Tenebrionidae) ambling across the ground, was seen.
Many plants in bloom were also seen however, so I went to bed optimistic about my prospects for finding beetles the next day.
Day 10
Mosquitoes were bad during the previous night, and they were bad again the following morning, prompting liberal use of repellent to a much greater degree than I am used to. At the same time, the presence of mosquitoes indicates abundant moisture in an area, and it was with that optimism that I set about searching for jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, tiger beetles, and whatever other insects could catch my eye in this hidden jewel of a place. Surrounded by treeless grasslands (and preserved as the Kiowa National Grasslands), Mills Rim Campground sits at the edge of Mills Canyon—a chasm in the landscape at the edge of a plateau bordering the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Firmly embedded in the Great Plains, the juniper/pine/oak woodland at the edge of and down in the canyon features plants and animals at their easternmost extent—residents of the Rocky Mountains that have found an isolated home in the middle of the grasslands. Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine), Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine), Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper), Juniperus scopulorum (Rocky Mountain juniper), Quercus grisea (gray oak), and Quercus × undulata (wavy leaf oak) all make their homes here, hosting innumerable insect species that are normally more at home in the Rocky Mountains.
View into Mills Canyon from Mills Rim Campground.
I’ve collected here several times and recorded many different western species of beetles, but the height of the season seems to be in June and July. Mid-September, in contrast, seems to be near the tail end of the season, the numbers and diversity of beetles and other insects dropping from their highs earlier in the season. The flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae, however, were hosting lots of insects. In addition to Crossidius pulchellus, Chauliognathus basalis, Bothrotes canalicularis, and Collops sp., Mike found numerous bee species, mostly females, collecting pollen from the flowers.
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Chauliognathus basalis (family Cantharidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Bothrotes canalicularis (family Tenebrionidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
A couple of species of robber flies—Ospricerus sp. and Efferia sp.—were also taken in flight, presumably patrolling the flowers of G. sarothrae for bee prey.
Ospricerus sp. (family Asilidae) patrolling flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) for bee prey.
Nysius sp. (false chinch bugs—family Lygaeidae) on flower of Erigeron divergens (spreading fleabane).
Mirabilis linearis (narrowleaf four o’clock—family Nyctaginaceae).
After a rest and rehydration break, I followed the road down Mills Canyon as it approaches the Canadian River to see if I could find Ericameria nauseosa—should I be able to, it would surely be at or near the easternmost limit of occurrence for the species in this part of New Mexico.
Mills Canyon above the Canadian River.
A bit further down Mills Canyon Road.
About half a mile down the road I began seeing Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of G. sarothrae, and I eventually secured a series of about a half dozen specimens. This is a nice record, as I found a single specimen a couple of years ago at Black Mesa in northwestern Oklahoma—a new state record and northeastern range extension, and this record helps bridge the gap between that record and the species’ more normal range of distribution across New Mexico and Arizona. Finally, nearly a mile into the canyon, I found one large blooming E. nauseosa and a smaller pre-bloom plant, but there were no Crossidius beetles on them, nor were any additional plants were seen a hundred yards or so further down the road, so I turned around.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae) along Mills Canyon Road.
On the way back out of the canyon, I collected a Calopteron sp. (family Lycidae) on senescing Melilotus alba (white clover) and photographed a female Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae).
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Back at camp, a couple of scarabaeoid beetles flew to the light of the lamp while we were relaxing with refreshments in hand and waiting for the coals to be ready. This suggested that maybe conditions were favorable for setting up the ultraviolet lights to attract other insects.
A final night of relaxing at camp with refreshments in hand.
After finishing dinner, we did exactly that and saw a few interesting insects show up, but shortly after setting up the lights the wind began to kick up, the temps began to drop, and increasingly frequent gusts making further lighting impossible!
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) male attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Schistocerca nitens (gray bird grasshopper—family Acrididae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Ophion sp. (short-tailed ichneumon wasp—family Ichneumoidae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Day 11
It was a rather sleepless final night in the tent—winds whipped as we turned in for the night, and shortly afterwards we awoke to rain splattering our faces through the fly-less tent roof. We quick got up and put on the rain fly, then listened to light but steady rain for most of the rest of the night. By the time we got up it had mostly stopped, but cool conditions with low-hanging, fast-moving clouds caused us to quickly break camp and save coffee and breakfast for Mocks Coffee Shop in Clayton, New Mexico near the Oklahoma state line (let me tell you how difficult it was for me to drive two hours first thing in the morning without coffee!). We had wanted to make our final collecting stop at a a lot near Kenton in the Black Mesa area of extreme northwestern Oklahoma, but the forecast for the area showed only slightly warmer temperatures and very gusty winds. This would make collecting there pointless, so we instead traveled four more hours east to get in front of the cold front at another of our favorite collecting spots, Gloss Mountain State Park in Major Co.
Gloss Mountain State Park features gypsum-capped mesas atop Permian red siltstones.
I was hoping to see an attractive late-season jewel beetle—Acmaeodera macra, which I had collected here and at nearby Alabaster Caverns State Park in previous years during late September. Temps were good (well over 80°F) when we arrived but the hour was already late (near 4:00 p.m.), so we had limited time for collecting before insects would start bedding down for the evening (usually around 5:00 to 6:00 p.m. at this point in the season). Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada) and Neotibicen aurífera (prairie cicada) males were still singing abundantly, filling the air with their distinctive songs (video of M. dorsata male singing here).
Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing on my hand after being taken from the stem of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower).
Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) and Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed) were blooming prolifically, off the flowers of which Mike collected a fair diversity of bees. I’d hoped to find beetles on the flowers as well, but they were limited almost exclusively to Chauliognathus limbicollis.
Chauliognathus limbicollis (family Cantharidae) on flower of Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed).
I did collect a male/female pair of Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer) on the seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed) and photographed the striking and beautiful caterpillar of Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer—family Cerambycidae) on seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed).
Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth—family Noctuidae) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
After that, I went up on top of the main mesa where I expected A. macra to occur. Heterotheca stenophylla (stiffleaf false goldenaster), on the flowers of which I collected A. macra in previous years, was blooming abundantly, but intense searching their flowers produced no beetles. I also noticed that Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), abundant in the area as well, was in only the earliest stages of bloom, suggesting to me that it might still be a bit too early for the jewel beetles to be out. By the time the 6:00 hour arrived, insect activity was noticeably diminished, and we wrapped up this, our final, collecting stop of the trip.
No camping is available at Gloss Mountain State Park, so we knocked out another hour and a half of travel by driving to Ponca City in north-central Oklahoma and taking a hotel there. For the first time since we left, we enjoyed dinner at a restaurant (fried catfish for me!), a hot shower, and a real bed!
Day 12
The following morning, we were surprised to learn that the only coffee shops in town were Starbuck’s and drive-throughs. This just wasn’t going to cut it for us on our final travel day, so we drove 15 minutes north to the small town of Newkirk and enjoyed great coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and scones at “Savvy Cactus” (Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar). (The coffee was good enough that I bought a bag of their coffee!)
“Savvy Cactus” Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar in Newkirk, Oklahoma.
The rest of the drive back to St. Louis was spent reflecting on the many experiences we’d just had and synthesizing the new knowledge while enjoying the landscape as it skirted the southern edge of the Flint Hills of Kansas and traversed the familiar hills and dales of our beloved Missouri Ozarks—the end of a 3,931-mile trip!
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 15th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the second 11-day insect collecting trip to eastern New Mexico this year. This trip, which took place on June 17–28, was a follow-up to “Act 1” on May 14–25 with the purpose of servicing “jug traps” placed on the first trip. Joining me this time was Rich Thoma, who has accompanied me on more field trips than anyone else over the past four decades! Initially I had planned to pick up the traps that I’d placed on the first trip; however, I found the idea of sampling just the early part of the longhorned beetle season to be unsatisfying and decided shortly before the trip to service the traps but leave them in place for another sampling period and make a third trip later in the season to retrieve them. It will be a coupe of months, however, before I can make that third trip, meaning the traps will be out for much longer than normal and making desirable any modifications that I can make to extend their effectiveness. To that end, I prepared larger bait bottles (500-ml capacity versus 250-ml) and purchased enough propylene glycol to fill the jug reservoirs to the limit of their capacity (1250 ml versus the 900 ml used previously). The prototype trap that I made prior to the trip seemed to work, so it was only a matter of deploying them in the field and keeping my fingers crossed. Similar to the last trip, we ended up making 16 visits to 16 different localities—15 in New Mexico, one in Oklahoma (versus 13 localities previously), but unlike last trip we also spent time at two localities (one in Oklahoma, one in Texas) strictly for hiking and observation.
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge Alfalfa County, Oklahoma Rich and I are repeating the 12-hour drive from St. Louis to Black Mesa State Park in the northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle that I did last month with Mike Arduser. I decided not to do the dreadful I-44 through Tulsa route, even though it is quicker, because I really just dread the boredom of the interstates and especially dislike the traffic and highways around Tulsa. Instead, we cut into southern Kansas at the last mile in Missouri and skimmed the bottom edge of that state—a very scenic route—until dropping down into Oklahoma once we’d gotten past I-35. Since we were passing by Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge and it had been probably ten or more years since we’d stopped there, we decided to take a look around the alkaline flats to see what tiger beetles we might see.
Alkaline flats at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle) was out in abundance, allowing easy cell phone photography.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
There was also the occasional individual of the dreadfully pedestrian Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), but none of the other alkaline flat specialties like Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) or Eunota togata globicollis (white-cloaked tiger beetle) were seen.
Cicindela punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
We were fooled, however, by a tiny species of “tiger beetle” that, upon closer inspection, proved to be a shore bug (Pentacora signoreti—family Saldidae).
Pentacora signoreti (shore bug—family Saldidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
It was dreadfully windy (as it often is in the wide open reaches of the vast Great Plains), so nothing was found on the few flowers that were found along the trail. Not wanting to delay our arrival at Black Mesa this evening too much, we cut the visit short and continued on the way.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of the alkaline flat.
The rest of the drive along the northern edge of Oklahoma was stunningly beautiful. Not only did we get to enjoy the non-interstate landscape and the more intimate experience it provided, but we also watched a spectacular storm system as it bloomed across the skies to the north and west. Radar and forecasts calmed our fears that we would experience it more directly—it was slated to sweep across Kansas but not touch Oklahoma, letting us admire stunning vistas of golden fields of sunlit wheat against a backdrop of blackened clouds …
Storm in Kansas over wheat in Oklahoma.
…and, as sunset approached, fiery skies peaking out between them.
The setting sun peaks between the storm and the wheat.
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, Oklahoma By the time we reached Black Mesa State Park, it was well dark, but we got camp set up with enough time left to enjoy a beer and relax a bit before walking the roads to see what beetles might be out and about. I was hoping to see Amblycheila cylindriformis (Plains giant tiger beetle), but our finds were limited to darkling beetles (Eleodes suturalis and E. longicollis)…
Eleodes suturalis (red-backed darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) “headstanding” at night in juniper woodland.
…a couple of Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae)…
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) at night in juniper woodland.
…and an interesting aggregation of Epicauta sp. prob. maculata species-group blister beetles (family Meloidae).
Epicauta sp. prob. bispinosa aggregated at night in juniper woodland.
Satisfied we’d given the area a good enough look, we settled into the fly-less tent to admire the stars while falling to sleep in the cool night air.
Unsettled skies at night portend trouble ahead.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit the Lincoln National Forest’s Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Both of those decisions did not work out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed, despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm, so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning. Then, when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove to the entrance anyway, where we found a parking area for a trailhead and looked around a bit. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed the recent rains, but there was almost no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs didn’t help with our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Day 2
Conditions turned quickly and unexpectedly on us! There was no hint of rain in the local forecast, but we awoke at 2 am to drizzle coming through the roof of the tent and quickly installed the rain fly. It rained the rest of the night—sometimes heavily, and while we were able to eat breakfast and then break camp in the morning before heavy rains returned it was still a cold, windy, drizzly experience. (I’ve now camped here seven times in the last two years, and this is the fourth time I’ve experience blustery cold and/or rainy weather here!) We had planned to collect during the morning at our favorite nearby spot—a sandstone outcropping just east of Kenton where I have collected five new state records—two cerambycids and three buprestids—in the last few years. Steady rain and cold temperatures, however, cancelled those plans, and radar and forecasts made it appear we might spend the next two or three days dealing with such unless we made significant progress towards the south. We decided to go to our next stop—Mills Rim Campground—where I had the first set of my traps to service, and then see how conditions developed before deciding whether to stay or move on.
Mills Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico Rains did let up as we approached Mill Rim Campground and while we were there, but only temporarily while cool (almost cold!) conditions persisted. We stopped on the road into the campground to check out a pile of recently-cut juniper wood hoping to see woodboring beetles, but all I saw was a solitary bee fly (though one I’d never noticed before—Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae).
Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae) in juniper woodland.
In the campground, I was pleased to see that all three traps were still in place, though the bait and reservoir liquid were both completely gone in them. I was also pleased to find that the traps redeployed nicely with my changes (larger 500-ml bait bottle and a larger volume—1250 ml—of diluted propylene glycol in the reservoir).
“Jug trap” hanging in ponderosa pine with two improvements: larger (500-ml) bait bottle, and larger volume of diluted propylene glycol (1250 ml instead of 900 ml).
Catch results, however, were a bit disappointing. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps had lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids, while the EtOH trap had nothing but a single E. fulgida (I suspect the trap reservoir may have been “dumped” during high winds). The white bottle trap had a few Acmaeodera spp. and about 12–15 bees, which I collected for my mellitologist friend Mike Arduser.
The “rim” of Mill Canyon.
Once all the traps had been serviced, the continuing rain and cold conditions made it an easy decision to keep moving south and forget about trying to collect or camp here!
“San Jon Hill” Quay County, New Mexico The forecasts showed temperatures about 10°F higher once we got as far south as San Jon, near which I had a set of traps that needed to be serviced, and about an hour further south was Oasis State Park where we would have a place to camp and possibly collect if the conditions were right. Conditions did indeed improve as we neared San Jon, with solid overcast skies beginning to brighten in the south and intermittent sun beginning to reach the ground. By the time we reached the spot where my traps were located, temps were well above 80°F and skies were partly sunny—but what wind!
We set about servicing the traps, and here I had another concerned calmed—this was the last place I had set traps last month, so the traps were the older style body made from shorter water jugs—nevertheless, the larger bait bottles fit inside the traps (barely), and the reservoir was able to handle the higher liquid amount. Results for the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps were nearly identical to Mills Rim—both filled with lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids (or at least very few—I did see at least one as I dumped the catch into the plastic bag). Again, I bagged the catch from both traps for later sorting. The EtOH trap, unfortunately, was down—the hanging rope was cut, apparently snapped due to rubbing against a branch in the wind. Just in case the culprit was hominid, however, I installed a new trap in a different nearby tree where it couldn’t be seen from the previous spot. The white bottle trap was absolutely overwhelmed with both Acmaeoderamixta and A. ligulata (and hopefully other species as well) and bees (for Mike), which I bagged for later sorting. We spent another hour or so collecting, but it was not terribly productive for me—beating Prosopis glandulosa produced lots of leaf-footed bugs and tiny beetles from the flowers, but I kept only a single Cleridae. I also beat a lot of oaks (Quercus mohriana and Q. x undulata) hoping to find more Brachys barberi (got one last time) but found nothing except a couple of elaterids. I also swept several stands of Quercus havardii but found nothing but grasshopper nymphs. All of the Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear) from which I had collected Acmaeodera spp. last time were bloomed out, but I paid attention to them anyway hoping to see cactus beetles and finally found one Moneilema armatum on the pad of one.
Moneilema armatum (black cactus longhorned beetle— family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland).
I also encountered a single plant in flower, from which I collected one Trichiotinus texanus (Texas flower scarab) and a couple of Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab). There were a few A. mixta on various flowers (primarily Thelesperma megapotamicum and Xanthisma spinulosa), but I let Rich have them and didn’t see any other species. Having satisfied ourselves that we’d gotten a good enough look, we continued south towards Oasis State Park.
Sunlit windmills stretch across the horizon under changeable skies.
Oasis State Park Roosevelt County, New Mexico Nice conditions and brightly sunlit windmills followed us during the 90-minute drive further south to our campground near Portales, with a spectacular bonus sunset greeting us upon our arrival.
Sunset on the Sand Dune Trail at Oasis State Park.
I quick ran over to the Sand Dune Trail to get a photo, knowing that colored sunsets of that sort are fleeting at best, and then we set about putting up camp and grilling some brats. Afterwards, we began our night walk to see what critters might be out and about, but first I wanted to go to a small, nicely-lit building near the restrooms to see what the lights may have pulled in (despite the presence of nearly full moon). At first I found only a few tenebrionids, though in nice variety and including one of the fantastically explanate tenebrionid Embaphion muricatum, and a crummy Cicindelidia punctulata chiricahuae (western subspecies of the punctured tiger beetle), but then I found several bolboceratine geotrupids—the large chunky Bradycinetulus fossatus, and several of the smaller Eucanthus sp. Then I saw a big something crawling frenetically nearby in the road, went over to look at it, and saw that it was a female Prionus arenarius—what a find!
Prionus arenarius (sandwalker prionid—family Cerambycidae) dead female on road through sand dune habitat.
There wasn’t much on the Sand Dune Trail loop, but another Embaphion muricatum on the loop and dead but perfectly intact specimens on the road through the campground of yet another Bradycinetulus fossatus and female Prionus arenarius—the two best finds of the night—made the walk worth it. Afterwards, we returned to the building lights to see if more Prionus (male or female) had arrived, but by then it was close to midnight and the cool night air had a decided “things are over” feel to it.
Arethaea mescalero (Mescalero thread-leg katydid—family Tettigoniidae) under light at night in sand dune habitat.
A species of straight-faced windscorpion (family Eremobatidae) under building light at night in sand dune habitat.
Day 3
We stayed dry all night and awoke to sunny skies early, but clouds increased as the morning progressed and the forecast called for rain starting around 10 am. Rich wanted to look around while we had the chance, but I’d seen enough and instead worked on my notes while he was out and about. Eventually we broke camp and headed out—no sooner had we done that then the rain started! We eventually learned that all this rain we were dealing with had a name—Tropical Storm Alberto, which had made landfall the day before in Mexico and was throwing moisture everywhere in its wake. At least it now made sense to us why the entire eastern half of the state was so persistently rainy no matter where we went. As we drove towards our next stop (Mescalero Sands Recreation Area), we formulated Plan B to blast all the way south and west to near Las Cruces, which seemed to be escaping the rains, and hole up there for the next two days until things cleared up. However, we arrived at the dunes under partly sunny skies and nicely warm, though quite windy, conditions.
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area Chaves County, New Mexico The first order of business was to service my jug traps, which I had hung in the Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) stands that dot the highway rights-of-way along the edge of the sand dune area. This has been one of my best collecting spots over the years—being the only place where I have reliably found in numbers the beautiful lime-green Agrilus sapindi in association with the soapberry. Unfortunately, all three jug traps were empty—compromised in some way by the strong winds that seem to persist in this area. One trap was “spun around” the branch on which it was hanging, another dropped when the rope came undone, and the third simply swung wildly in the wind, throwing the bait bottle and emptying the reservoir. I elected not to rehang any of the traps here, having little confidence that I would be able hang them any more securely than I had already done. It’s a shame, because I was really interested in seeing what longhorned beetles the traps would pull, not only from the soapberrys in which they were hanging but also from the surrounding Quercus havardii (shinnery oak)-dominated sandhill shrubland. Right on queue, however, I found several A. sapindi and one Neoclytus mucronatus vogti on the soapberries as I was retrieving the last trap.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) in sand shrubland.
Also, though not an insect, I noticed a partial mammal cranium (missing the maxillae) half-buried in the sand. I picked it up and looked at it, thinking it might be a javelina because of the far rear-situated cranial crest. Then I noticed the other half of the cranium lying teeth-upwards nearby. The two pieces fit together nearly perfectly (some minor warping notwithstanding), and the large canine tusks convinced me even more so that it represented a javelina. I bagged it and will glue it together when I return home for display in my “bone shelf”!
Assembled fragments of collared peccary (Pecari tajacu) cranium found along roadside through sand shrubland.
As I started heading back to the car, I saw—and missed!—a Chrysobothris mescalero on the shinnery oak in that spot—damn! Happily, I did manage to sweep another individual from the plants back near where we parked. Continued sweeping failed to produce any more individuals, but what I really wanted to find was Agrilus hespenheidei—also beautiful green but completely unrelated to A. sapindi and which I have collected only sparingly in the past but failed completely to find on my most recent visit. I swept the grasses along the roadside and found none (for now!), then went into the recreation area entrance to retrieve the white bottle trap—it was overwhelmed with Acmaeodera spp. and bees, which I bagged and will sort later. Very little else was seen, and by the time I returned to the car Rich was satisfied with the myriad pollinating insects he’d collected off the soapberry flowers and specimens of A. sapindi and C. mescalero that he’d swept. It was still early enough in the day after refueling and rehydrating that we decided to visit the dunes proper and see what might be out.
Distant sand dunes frame an even more distant escarpment.
I wasn’t very optimistic about collecting in the dunes, given that paucity of insects seen in the shrubland along the highway and just inside the entrance, but there was still enough time left in the day to spend time here and not enough to move on to the campground near Roswell and collect there. For much of the time, my pessimism prevailed, as I did a bit of sweeping here and there and saw (but did not collect) only the occasional mutillid (velvet ant) and tenebrionid (darkling beetle). The scenery was nice, however, and the temperatures comfortable, and at the furthest point out we had a bit of fun “working” a common blotch-sided lizard (Uta standsburiana) female into a place where we were able to photograph her.
Me taking a photo of a Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) female. Photo by Richard Thoma.
On the way back, I happened to notice a buprestid sitting on the dried stem of Sporobolus giganteus (giant dropseed) and realized it was the one buprestid I was hoping to collect here—Agrilus hespenheidei! This led to a renewed round of sweeping in all the neighboring plants and others along the way back, resulting in several interesting captures such as an ataxiine cerambycid, one Macrosaigon sp., two Selenodon sp., and a couple of small weevils—but no additional A. heapenheidei! I also found an interesting little Eusattus sp. tenebrionid on the sand, so it was nice leaving the place knowing that I would not be “skunked” for the first time on the trip!
We drove through rain on the drive going west towards Roswell, and shortly afterwards I saw a male Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) crossing the highway. I did a U-turn and went back to it to 1) move it off the highway so it wouldn’t get run over and 2) take photos of it. Several cars passed over it as we were backtracking, but fortunately none ran over it, and we had a clear road to turn around once again and pull over. We took a few quick photos while it was still on the road—one amazingly capturing the newly formed rainbow in the background—before a semi bearing down from the distance forced us to quickly “guide” it off the road. It really wanted to continue to the other side, so we had to be quite insistent on forcing it off the road, and after traffic cleared we coaxed it into a jar and delivered it to the other side of the highway all the way to the fenceline.
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain crossing road in mesquite chaparral (framed by rainbow!).
Bottomless Lakes State Park Chaves County, New Mexico We arrived at the park with some good daylight to spare and snagged the choicest campsite in the entire campground (why the people at the two already occupied sites didn’t take it is beyond me!), explored our new home for a bit, and then set about putting everything in place.
Premier campsite at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
As soon as we finished, we noticed a rain shower in the distance and debated the direction it was moving. I thought it would pass to our east, but within minutes it was raining—and a few minutes later it was pouring! But we watched in comfort under the large metal shelter covering our table and admired the incredible rainbow that formed over the canyon wall bordering the eastern side of our campsite.
Rains appearing on the horizon.
Rainbow-framed canyon walls at the edge of our campsite.
Eventually the rain stopped and we fired up some burgers on the grill. Wildlife competed for my interest while the burgers were cooking, apparently brought out by the fresh rain and coming darkness. These included a kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.) and a red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus).
Kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.—family Heteromyidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus—family Bufonidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
The fresh rain, coolish temps, and near-full moon made setting up the lights to attract insects out of the question, but after dinner when darkness had fully settled we walked the road through the campground to look for nocturnal beetles. I was hoping to find Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle), one of which had had found up on the rock slope the last time I was here, but I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of clambering over steep, wet rocks in the dark and settled for the pavement up to the beginning of the tent campground and back. Large tenebrionid darkling beetles were expected, thus the two we saw were no surprise, but what did surprise and delight us was another male tarantula—and not the common Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) but the much less commonly encountered Chihuahuan gray (A. gabeli)! This was a delight and becomes the fourth species of tarantula I’ve found in the wild. We trailed it back and forth as it ambled along the road trying to get good photos, but it never stopped long enough to allow such. Eventually it did stop along the side of the road, where we took some “okay” photos before moving on.
Aphonopelma gabeli (Chiricahuan gray tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As we began to walk away, I had second thoughts and decided to try for one more frontal portrait shot, but I had to move a little plant stem that was obscuring the view. I did this as carefully as I could, but the tarantula sensed something and suddenly took off like a shot. I followed as it bolted across the road, where suddenly it stopped and hunkered down right out in the open—as if it had fled the danger and was now willing to wait it out for a bit before resuming its wandering. At that point, I was able to easily take the frontal portrait photos that I desired—all that following and frustration, when all I really needed to do was scare it and wait for it to stop running.
The sight a cricket does not want to see!
By the time we returned to the campsite, I was exhausted and turned in early (rare for me!).
Day 4
It started raining again around 2 am and didn’t really let up until after noon. We took advantage of the chance to update our field notes and process specimens before going into town to pick up a few supplies. It was still raining when we returned later in the morning, but only lightly and allowing us to stop at the cenote next to the visitor center. I never took the opportunity to look at one of the cenotes last time, so this was my first actual look at one of them.
Rich admites a “cenote” (Cottonwood Lake) at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
Chlorochroa ligata (conchuela bug—family Pentatomidae) mating pair on seedpod of Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
We headed back to our campsite and continued working on our field notes and adding captions to our photographs until the rain finally stopped around 1:30 pm, and by 2:30 conditions had dried out and temps warmed enough to warrant going out and collecting.
Plathemis subornata (desert skimmer—family Libellulidae) near cenote in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
I started out by hiking the ravine from our campground down to where it drained into a cenote (Pasture Lake) near the adjacent campsite and found lots of Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug) on the ground near and within a stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along the lake margin where they were walking about, mating, and burrowing into the soil at base of the plants—especially dead remnants.
Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug—family Curculionidae) near stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along cenote shoreline.
I also scoured the barren alkaline soil along the lake margin for tiger beetles and found a couple of Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) elytra and several adult Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle). Before leaving the lake area I also snagged an Acmaeodera gibbula in flight and then wandered over to the area where I found Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush) infested with longhorned beetles (Amannus sp., which I still have not identified). I was hoping to see adults now emerged and in the plants, but none were seen. I also kept an eye out for buprestids on the Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) but never saw anything. I was starting to think buprestids were (puzzlingly) out-of-season as I wandered up into the picnic area where I found several things last time and quickly saw a beautiful Gyascutus planicosta obliterata adult sitting on the foliage of A. canescens. Over the next couple of hours I would collect a handful of these beautiful beetles. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen members of this genus in the field, and I’d forgotten whether they were skittish or sluggish—this one was the latter and let me take a nice close photo before obligingly dropping into the net. Probably it depends on temperature, as I remember collecting these in Texas in blazing hot conditions and seeing them zip off instantly and fly far into the distance upon sensing my approach. Today’s temps were much more modest (thankfully), so the adults were rather easy to collect.
Gyascutus planicosta obliterata (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As I looked for Gyascutus on the slopes and around the picnic area, I took the opportunity to beat the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa)—especially those in flower. [Edit: the genus Prosopis was recently split up into several genera, with P. glandulosa being assigned to the new genus Neltuma. I don’t reject this new placement but will use the older, more familiar name on this blog until the new name receives greater acceptance.] Most of what I saw were leaffooted bugs, but I did pick up one more A. gibbula, one Acmaeoderopsis hulli, a few Epicauta sp., and a couple each of a darnine and a centrotine membracid. I also continued to inspect A. canescens plants for signs of infestation by Amannus but was unable to find any larvae or unemerged adults in the few living plants that I broke apart when they exhibited emergence holes. What I did find, however, was an Acmaeodera sp. partial cadaver of an adult that had failed to emerge. I was able to retrieve its elytral shield (Acmaeodera sp. have fused elytra, which they lift up during flight rather than spread apart like most other buprestids), and hopefully it will be enough to enable a species identification and a confirmed larval host plant association. By the time I looked at the last plant, it was going on 6 pm. I was hot, thirsty, and hungry, and I had a lot of specimens from previous days still to process, so I headed back to the campsite.
Rich admires another cenote (Pasture Lake) while I scale the canyon walls above.
It took a couple of hours to write up my notes and complete processing of the specimens I’d collected from the bottle trap yesterday at Mescalero Sands (I’m guessing there were at least 100, if not 200, Acmaeodera specimens as well as a few dozen bees for Mike). As darkness descended, the full moon rising in the east dampened any enthusiasm I may have had for putting up the full UV/MV (ultraviolet/mercury vapor) light setup, but what we did do was much simpler: just lay a UV light on a white sheet on the ground. Despite the increasingly intense moonlight, tiger beetles began to show up on and near the sheet. Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) was the first to arrive and turned out to be abundant.
Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Jundlandia lemniscata repaptisata (rouged tiger beetle) also was common, but it took longer for them to come in.
Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
What I was most recited about, however, were the two individuals of Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle) that showed up.
Cicindela tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Rich also found a Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle running on the ground nearby. Eventually we decided to walk the road—Rich was hoping to see snakes, and I was hoping to see Amblycheila picolominii (Plains giant tiger beetle), a single individual of which I had seen during my previous visit up on the gypsum/red siltstone slope bordering the campground. Neither of us saw what we were hoping to see, or anything else for that matter, so we returned to the campground. I still had Amblycheila on my mind, however, so I decided to go back up onto the slopes where I had seen the species before to at least give myself a chance of seeing it again. I clambered semi-directly to the spot where I had seen it before, continued across the slope to the northern canyon limit, and then went downslope a bit to traverse the again in the opposite direction. Right as I started across again, I found one ambling across the rocks much as the previous one I’d seen. This charged my motivation, and though traversing the slope several more times proved fruitless, I was still a happy camper!
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
After returning to the campsite, I decided to explore the steep, narrow, canyon ravine behind our campsite, which I still had not yet done, and picked my way over the rocks to as far as I could go. I kind of expected/hoped to see Amblycheila, but not really—just wanted to explore the unique canyon feature. Near the furthest point I shine my headlamp on the steep clay slope at the bottom of the canyon wall and saw a Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi). It was not, however, just any ol’ Texas brown, but a female—recognizable as such by her relatively shorter legs and larger abdomen and also the fact that she was sitting right next to her burrow. I’m sure Madam will be rightly excited when she finds out we have a new pet named Bertha!
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) near burrow on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
You’d think this would be the perfect swan song for the evening, but as I picked my way back down the canyon floor I spotted another A. picolominii, which made me want to keep exploring even more. This I did, going down to the spot along the Bluff Trail where I’d had so much success with Gyascutus earlier in the afternoon, but the only thing all this extra walking resulted in was an even later bedtime. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have been more pleased at finding six tiger beetle species during this visit (after finding only the single Amblycheila last time and thinking I was losing my tiger beetle mojo!).
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
Day 5
Despite the great success we’d had collecting insects in Bottomless Lakes State Park the previous day or so, there was one thing I was glad to be leaving—the house flies! They swarmed our campsite in numbers I’d never seen before, relentlessly landing on everything including our supplies, hands, faces, etc. it then took an hour or so getting all of the thousand or so that had infiltrated our vehicle out of the vehicle as we drove towards our next stop in the southernmost tract of the Lincoln National Forest in Eddy Co. Before leaving Roswell, however, we had to stop by the “Alien Welcome Monument” at the edge of town. I was disappointed to see that my version of “Kilroy was here” graffiti from last time’s visit was gone (apparently the monument gets painted over periodically), so I added it back.
Rich (L) and me in the requisite Roswell alien selfie.
“Entomological graffiti.”
X Bar Rd Eddy County, New Mexico The gradual ascent from the desert floor up into the pinyon/oak/juniper zone of the mountains is among the remotest-feeling that I have ever experienced, and just shy of the National Forest boundary we found our next spot. My biggest concern was whether the area was still experiencing drought conditions, but we were happy to see that the area has actually received rain—enough in the last day or so to thoroughly wet the soil. We could see it in the way the area looked, with most of the oaks and acacias having sprouted new leaves and the surrounding slopes exhibiting a greenish “cast.” The catches from all three traps were similar to each other and to what we had seen further north—i.e., mostly moths, but without the Euphoria fulgida. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps seemed to have caught more than the EtOH trap, but the difference was not as large as further north. I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in the first two (as I bagged them for later sorting), but not many. I was hoping to see my primary target—Purpuricenus opacus, but I also knew that it may be a bit early for that species (and with the prevailing droughty conditions I may never see it). The white bottle trap, on the other hand, was loaded with Acmaeodera spp. and bees (the latter which I kept for Mike). Seeing the fresh foliage on the plants in the area, I set about beating some of them hoping things were starting to come out. Beating Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), however, produced only a few chrysomelids, as did beating the oaks (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe). There was very little in bloom, and sweeping the roadside vegetation produced nothing. Even the the few Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) from which I’d collected a fair number of Acmaeodera spp. last time were devoid of flowers. Hopefully the recent rains will continue to trigger further beetle emergence, and my traps will collect some of these over the next two months.
Chihuahuan spotted whiptail (Aspidoscelis exsanguis) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Klondike Gap Rd, Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico We were optimistic about what we might see at this, my highest priority location for the jug traps, as it was from here that the west Texas specialty Purpuricenus opacus was recently reared from oak. Since the previous spot had seen rain, it seemed likely that this one had as well. Sadly, the landscape turned bone dry as we approached—dust on the plants with no sign of fresh foliage proving that it hadn’t rained for some time. My spirits were further dampened when I found the SRW trap down due to a frayed and broken rope. I rehung the trap with replacement rope (I always bring a spare trap and parts just in case) and was pleased to find both the SRW/EtOH and EtOH-only traps still hanging and—remarkably—with even more numerous trap catches than at the previous spot despite the lack of rain. Again, I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in each, but not many, and not a single scarab. The real surprise, however, came with the white bottle trap—literally hundreds of Acmaeodera, perhaps three or four times as many as were in the bottle trap at the previous spot. There were even a couple of still-living beetles walking about on top of the mass of beetles that were testing the limits of the volume of propylene glycol in the trap, suggesting that the beetles are currently active even with the dry conditions—but where are they?! There are no flowers to speak of, and beating produced nothing, yet the beetles must be flying about. All I can do is hope that conditions will improve sometime over the next two months that the traps are out and that they will be able attract whatever emerges whenever that happens.
“Jug trap” supplies with bagged catch.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Last month when I came here with Mike, our only reason for coming here was that it was a campground close to my trap localities where we could spend the night after setting the traps and then move on the next morning. When we arrived, however, we were immediately captivated by the stunning beauty of the canyon, and we decided that my next trap run should include an extra day to allow some hiking and exploring. That’s exactly what I planned for this visit, with two nights of camping bracketing a full day of hiking. The approach to the park is, in itself, spectacular, starting with a steep drop off the plateau and an expansive vista of the valley below—the highway leading to the park appearing as a thin, straight line between the massively tall canyon walls on either side.
Queen Hwy approach to Dog Canyon, Guadalupe Mountains National Park.
A small sign at the park border announces that you are also entering the great state of Texas!
A Texas welcome!
To our surprise, the campground was deserted—a marked contrast from last time when we were lucky enough to snag the last available campsite as Saturday night walk-ins. I can’t say I was disappointed, as that was my only real complaint about my previous visit. We weren’t totally alone, however—Kitty quickly stopped by to see us, at once skittish yet desperately wanting affection (and probably food). Of course, insect collecting is not allowed in a national park without a permit, so this visit was strictly for observing and (hopefully) lots of photographs. Both of these began shortly after we finished dinner (including Kitty, who scored a couple of sardines) and dusk had settled over the canyon when several large male Prionus californicus flew by at our campsite.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Cerambycidae) at dusk in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Afterwards, we decided to walk the gravel road through the campground and back past the state line to the paved highway in hopes of seeing snakes and other critters. We saw no snakes, but we say plenty of other critters—Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae), a couple of Omorgus sp. (carcass beetles—family Trogidae), Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae), a juvenile tarantula (likely Aphonopelma sp.—family Theraphosidae), and my favorite—a couple of Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae).
Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Omorgus sp. (skin beetle—family Trogidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aphonopelma sp. (family Theraphosidae) juvenile on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Amblycheila picolominii on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
We also saw numerous tenebrionid beetles in diversity far too great to photograph as well as two species of toads.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Great Plains toad (Anaxyrus cognatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Smile for the camera!
The most puzzling observation of the evening was two large ants apparently locked in tug-of-war combat—each momentarily gaining momentum and then just as quickly losing it to the other in a back-and-forth seesaw battle. Perhaps our local formicid specialist James Trager can shed light on this observation. Edit: James writes:
This looks like a couple of major workers of Camponotus sp. tussling at a territorial boundary of two colonies. These look like and might be C. americanus, but I’m frankly not sure about the ID from that location, without looking at specimens.
Camponotus sp. (carpenter ants—family Formicidae) playing “tug-of-war” on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Day 6
Bush Mountain Trail Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Today’s plan was to spend the first part of the morning relaxing with coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes, then hike up Bush Mountain to Marcus Overlook. Gaining nearly 1000 feet in just under three miles, it would be enough of a challenge for either one of us, especially considering how slow Rich and I tend to be on our hikes due to constantly stopping to look at things.
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
As we passed through the grasslands beyond the horse corrals, we started seeing one of my favorite tiger beetles—Cicindelidia obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle). The first two we saw were black, suggesting they were assignable to the nominate subspecies, but then we saw a green individual (that I got barely close enough for a crappy photo) which suggests subspecies C. o. santaclarae—a subspecies I’ve never seen in the field before and this spot surely on the eastern edge of its distribution (perhaps in an intergrade zone with nominate C. obsoletus). Perhaps in the morning before we leave I’ll go back and see if I can get a more acceptable photograph.
Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae (Santa Clara grassland tiger beetle) on clay trail through montane grassland.
For a while the trail was not too steep as it followed a rocky wash, and most of the herbaceous plants were just beginning to produce new foliage (late June seems to me like an awful late start to the season!). As we ascended the mountain, the habitat turned from pinyon/juniper/oak woodland to alpine grassland with large ponderosa pines dotting the steep hillsides. The ascent was quite steep in places, causing us to stop frequently; however, our reward for doing so was the chance to take our eyes off our feet and instead admire the expansive vistas sprawling before us!
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
About halfway up I noticed what must have been a webbed-over (and thus occupied) tarantula burrow—my second tarantula burrow after having never seen one in my emite life.
Apparently occupied tarantula burrow in montane grassland.
Along a ridge near the top we found a very colorfully marked juvenile greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi—the first horned lizard that I’ve seen in the field that was not a Texas horned lizard (P. cornutum).
Rare shade along the middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi) on limestone trail through montane grassland.
The best find of the day, however, was the least expected—several tiger beetles whose identity I did not recognize and which proved to be Cicindelidia laetipennis! This particular population was, until very recently, considered a subspecies of C. politula (limestone tiger beetle) that was endemic to the Guadeloupe Mountains (C. p. petrophila—rock loving tiger beetle) and characterized by extreme variability in coloration despite its very small geographic range. Indeed, the two individuals I managed to get close enough to photograph (thanks to my new cell phone’s zoom function!) showed part of this variability—one being bright coppery-red and the other almost greenish. Molecular analysis, however, has shown that the population is instead conspecific with C. laetipennis, which was until then considered restricted to Mexico. Whether an endemic subspecies of a more common species or a distinct phenotype of a Mexican species, it was a thrill for me to see in the field for the first time.
View from hairpin turn on middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Cicindelidia laetipennis (formerly C. politula petrophila—family Cicindelidae) on limestone trail through montane grassland. This individual is quite red.
Another individual of Cicindelidia laetipennis, this one decidedly greenish.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of limestone habitat for Cicindelidia laetipennis in montane grassland.
At Marcus Overlook, we enjoyed a bit of a food and rest while viewing the expanse of mountains further west and south in the park, thankful that such immensely wild, unspoiled places still exist. The hike back down was more about the destination than the experience—the careful footing required to navigate the at times steep grades keep our eyes mostly on our feet, and by the time we reached our campsite at mid-afternoon we were ready for some rest, food, and rehydration!
View of Guadalupe Mountains from Marcus Overlook.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Neither decision worked out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed (despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm), so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning, and when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove the road anyway and found a trailhead parking area just before the entrance that looked interesting enough to explore. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed recent rains, but there was no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs further lowered our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico On the way back, I had an idea—stop by the traps I’d serviced the previous day on Klondike Gap Rd (not too far off the main highway) and see if they were beginning to pull anything in. I checked only the bottle trap and the SRW/EtOH traps, and both had fresh catch—Acmaeodera in the former and Euphoria in the latter. Of course, I was hoping (but did not expect) to see Purpuricenus opacus, and though I did not see it after 24 short hours I remain optimistic that it will come to the traps in the next few weeks. While we were there, I noticed a particular oak tree (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe) alongside the road. Something about it said “Beat me!”, so I went back and got the beating sheet out of the car, beat another oak on the way back to the tree without seeing anything, and in the first whack of the tree I got Chrysobothris axillaris—an oak associate that I’ve only seen in west Texas. Of course, that motivated me to starting beating other oaks, but I never saw another beetle. Certainly not a productive stop, but at least getting C. axillaris made it worth the effort.
Agave havardiana (Harvard’s century plant—family Agavaceae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas This being our last evening in the park, we brought out the bison steaks for a celebratory dinner, and they were quite good despite having to be cooked in a skillet over my tiny stove (no charcoal grills allowed!). Perhaps the “dirty skillet” imparted some flavor. Kitty joined the celebration, scoring four sardines for dinner instead of just two! Afterwards once darkness had settled, we walked the roads again hoping to see snakes and other crawlies, but there was far less on the roads this time compared to last night, with two notable exceptions—a Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae), and a large male Prionus californicus (California prionid—family Cerambycidae), both on the trunks of the massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana) that dot the campground. Perhaps the cooler and more blustery conditions had things hunkering down.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Before turning in for the night, I started to hike the short (0.6 mi) Meadow Nature Trail. I’d made it about halfway around when I decided that hiking the trail on a moonless night by myself was not such a bright idea and turned around. I really got spooked on the way back out when I saw two glowing eyes not far away but breathed a sigh of relief when their owner turned out to be a mule deer, who was equally spooked by my approach and bolted, crashing away through the darkness.
Day 7
I normally dislike mornings that we have to break camp and move on—I’d rather relax for an hour or so and enjoy a cup (or two) of French press coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes. Today was supposed to be such a day, but I negotiated with Rich to delay our departure until mid-morning to give the grassland tiger beetles (Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae) that we saw beginning yesterday’s hike a chance to become active again so I could try for better photographs. The coffee tasted good this morning, and three wild turkeys strutting nonchalantly through our campsite made my leisure hour just that much more enjoyable. Once it warmed up a bit, I went to the corrals where we’d seen them before—nothing! We decided to go ahead and break camp, then go back and check again after we were all packed up—nothing! This was puzzling, since we were there at the time we’d seen them the day before. All I can say is figuring out insects is hard—especially in the West, and if I live to be 100 I don’t think I’ll ever fully figure them out. With that, we said our goodbyes to Dog Canyon—I truly look forward to coming back!
Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo) strolling through our campsite.
It was a long drive between Eddy Co. and our first collecting spot of the day, and we stupidly made it even longer by going all the way back to Roswell to restock on groceries for the coming week. While we were there, we decided to each lunch at a restaurant instead of out of the car—further adding to our travel time (but the burritos from Burrito Express were so good!). The last leg from Roswell to near Mayhill was—like last time—the worst, with temperatures soaring up to 100°F and the landscape providing so very little of interest.
Carr Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico We arrived at about 4:30 pm—still plenty of time to collect and, if we didn’t like what we saw, move on, and we were happy that the higher elevation was providing some temperature relief. We had come to this spot last time based on a prior record of a rather fine buprestid species (Buprestis prospera) from the area, but it was bone dry at the time and we moved on without even getting out of the vehicle. Conditions seemed much better this time, but still I saw no pinyon pine (the larval host) to inspect—and certainly no dead ones to chop into. We were here, however, and decided to give it a shot. I did find a few small dead Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper), but beating them produced only a single Anomoea sp. (likely an incidental association). The scrub oaks (not sure which Quercus species they represent) as well were leafing out nicely, but sweeping them produced only a smattering of Chrysomelidae (leaf beetles), Elateridae (click beetles), and Curculionidae (weevils)—no Buprestidae (jewel beetles) or Cerambycidae (longhorned beetles). A dry creekbed ran through the area, and I noticed rather lush growth of grassy vegetation in and alongside the creekbed. Recalling that I’d swept such growth along the roadside in nearby Mayhill a few years ago and got a series of Taphrocerus schaefferi, I began sweeping. This was much more productive—each sweeping pass produced one or two Taphrocerus (will need to examine closely to determine if they also represent T. schaefferi, also that is likely), and by the time I finished I had a nice little series of around eight individuals. Checking back with Rich, neither he nor I were seeing much else of interest, so we decided to continue on to the next locality near Cloudcroft.
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico The threatening clouds that had just started appearing as we were leaving the previous spot developed into full-blown rain showers as we continued up the mountains to Cloudcroft. Just as quickly as they had come, however, they abated and we arrived to this spot under broken clouds and cool early evening temps. Of all the locations where I had placed traps, my expectations were lowest for this one due to its combination of high elevation (nearly 9000’) and dense, coniferous forests (wine-based baits typically do not attract beetles associated with conifers). I went ahead and placed traps here, however, because 1) I already had several sets at lower elevation woodlands, 2) the presence here of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak)—a high elevation oak that could be hosting a variety of interesting beetle species, and 3) perhaps the ethanol component of the bait might still attract conifer associates. What I found was completely unexpected—all three traps contained several species of Cerambycidae, none of which I immediately recognized to species! The most abundant species appears to be a large, blonde lepturine, and there was also a smaller Stenocorus sp. as well as a few even smaller species that will require closer examination to identify. I was happy to see all three traps not only still hanging, but also with a little bit of bait still in the bottle and the propylene glycol in the reservoirs not completely dried out. This is in contrast to the traps at all the other lower-elevation localities, which exhibited bone-dry bait bottles and little to no propylene glycol remaining in the reservoir. The thought occurred to me that perhaps the reason these traps were so much more productive was because they remained attractive for the entire one-month period following their placement, while traps at other localities dried up after two or three weeks and failed to attract beetles during the latter part of the period—potentially after beetles had begun to appear in numbers. On the other hand, the very different habitats could also easily explain such a difference. As for the traps, expectedly the SRW/EtOH trap had the largest catch volume, the EtOH-only trap had the smallest (though still good numbers and variety of beetles), and the SRW-only trap volume was in between. Sadly, the white bottle trap was not only pulled out of the ground but completely missing—I can only guess that one of the many hikers that pass through the area saw it and couldn’t resist their inner vandal. The lateness of the hour precluded much further collecting, but I noticed a couple of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on flowers of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). Based on locality and their dark coloration, they should represent the subspecies A. c. pseudotsugae—unlike the bright green individuals of the nonimate subspecies found further west in California.
Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
There were lots of other plants of various types in bloom, suggesting that a return to this spot with sunny conditions might be warranted. It also convinced me that I should replace the bottle trap here (using the one I retrieved from Mescalero Sands), given the uniqueness of this locality—I’ll just need to find a more secluded spot to place it.
Upper Karr Canyon Campground Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico During my last visit with Mike, we camped at Lower Karr Canyon Recreation Area on the west side of the mountains below Cloudcroft. It was a nice place to camp but with no table or restroom. This time, Rich and I decided to try Upper Karr Canyon, and boy were we impressed—high elevation (9350’!) with a spacious campground and, most importantly, tables! There were other people in the campground, but everyone was spaced so far apart that it still felt private—at least, until the toddler in the next campsite had a meltdown and woke the infant, who himself then had a meltdown! It was dark by then, so I decided to take a walk to look for night-active critters and hoped that the frazzled parents would manage to get things under control by the time I returned. I saw lots of tenebrionids, of course, but also far more Carabidae (ground beetles) than I typically see out west—perhaps because of the high elevation. Nothing, however, warranted placement in my bottle, so I returned to a (thankfully) quiet campground and admired the amazing starscape in the sky above in the time before the waning gibbous moon began rising in the east.
Becoming acquainted with “aliens” that we encountered this morning in Roswell.
Oenothera flava (yellow evening primrose—family Onagraceae) flowering at night in alpine coniferous forest.
Our tent illuminated beneath the night sky.
Day 8
I was tempted to do a bit of collecting before we broke camp—Cicindela purpurea (pasture tiger beetles) were flitting amongst clay exposures in the campground, and Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper) serenaded us with their snap-crackle-popping flights. We decided instead to break camp anyway and head back to Switchback Trailhead.
Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper—family Acrididae) in alpine coniferous forest.
Mexican Canyon Trestle—the last of 49 such trestles built in 1899 to transport timber from the Sacramento Mountains.
View from Mexican Canyon Overlook. White Sands National Moniment can be seen in the distance.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico After a quick stop at Mexican Canyon Overlook (I actually made it to the far end of the cantilever lookout deck!), we went back to Switchback Trailhead so we could get a better look than allowed by our quick trap check stop the previous evening. This included examining the variety of flowers and sweeping the large patches of mature Gambel oaks in hopes of finding the recently described Brachys rileyi. I also wanted to reset a new bottle trap to replace the one that was stolen, except this time I hid the trap in an exposed area inside a large patch of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). I barely got the trap set when I noticed more Anthaxia on the flowers and collected a nice series of what I now believe are two species—A. (Haplanthaxia) caseyi pseudotsugae (due to its dark coloration) and A. (Melanthaxia) expansa (due to the two pronotal impressions). I went back to the car to get my long-handled net for sweeping the Gambel oak and found nearby a stand of Ratibida columnifera (Mexican hat) with more Anthaxia plus Acmaeoderavariegata on the flowers. Sweeping the Gamble oak was disappointing—no Buprestidae of any kind, much less B. rileyi, but I did collect a small variety of other beetles including a very tiny adult of what must be Neoclytus irroratus. I was about to go back and see if Rich was having any luck when I spotted a large flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry). My long-handled net came in very handy, as I was able to seep the flowers high up out of normal reach. The first tree yielded what I suspect is Agrilaxia arizonae, and after sweeping the four different tree in the area I collected two more adults. I’m not aware of the occurrence of this species east of western New Mexico, so we will have to see how it compares to the very similar species A. texana. The last plant was very close to one of my bait traps (SRW-only bait)—I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peak and was happy to see a lepturine longhorn already in the trap. It was the smaller, darker species that I thought yesterday was a species of Stenocorus, and a little bit of internet sleuthing revealed it to be the very local and uncommonly collected S. copei—a very nice species that I have never collected before! Now I am even more excited about the trap results from this spot and am anxious to see what they trap in the next couple of months. (I also sleuthed the larger yellow species and believe it is Centrodera spurca [yellow Douglas-fir borer]—not an especially rare species, but one that I have never collected and this population representing one that is interestingly disjunct from the main population in the Pacific Coast states.)
Stenocorus copei (family Cerambycidae) taken in sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in Quercus gambelii (Gamble oak) along margin of alpine coniferous forest.
In the meantime, Rich learned from a passing Forest Service worker that a small protected area for the Sacramento Mountains checkerspot butterfly (Euphydryas anicia cloudcrofti), currently proposed for listing on the endangered species list, could be found just up the road. Rich had to promise that we were not interested in collecting the butterflies before the worker agreed to tell him where the caged butterfly food plots were located, so we went up to take a look at them.
Bailey Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico While Rich examined the food plots (he did not see either larvae or adults), I examined the flowers alongside the road, collecting more Acmaeodera variegata and Anthaxia spp. of the flowers of Hymenoxys hoopsii (owlsclaws) and Achillea millefolium (common yarrow).
Acmaeodera variegata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenoxys hoopesii (owlsclaws) in alpine coniferous forest.
There were several additional flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry), but sweeping the flowers produced no additional Agrilaxia. Nothing else sparked our interest, so we then headed to Trestle Depot Recreation Area in nearby Cloudcroft.
Trestle Recreation Area Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico This little picnic spot caught my eye when I was here last month, looking like it might be good for a quick stop and look around. Musk thistle (Carduus nutans) in flower along the roadside may be an exotic invasive plant, but the flowers attracting a variety of butterflies were of immediate interest to Rich. I looked as well to see if there were any beetles on the flowers, but there were not and so went back to the picnic area. Immediately I spotted a freshly dead Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and walked toward it. As I approached, I saw two Buprestis lyrata adults on the trunk—one of which flew off as I spotted them and the other I caught. I checked the trunk carefully to see if there were others, and failing to find any I checked out a nearby cut Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) stump. I suspected, however, that the first one would eventually come back to the tree, and when I returned it was there. It was too high to reach, however, so I found a long dead stick, placed the loop of my net right beneath it, and used the tip of the stick to cause it to drop into the net. I would catch two more adults this way on successive returns to the tree, and while these would be my only specimens from the visit I was quite happy to have found them.
Buprestis lyrata (pink-faced jewel beetle—false Buprestidae) collected on trunk of freshly dead Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas fir) in alpine coniferous forest.
“Point of Sands” Otero County, New Mexico By the time we finished up at Trestle Depot, it was mid-afternoon and I wanted to show Rich “Point of Sands” where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. I’ve collected some very nice Buprestidae associated with Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s joint-fir) on previous visits (Acmaeodera recticollis and Sphaerobothris ulkei), but last month when I visited here with Mike it was bone dry with very little in flight. This time, it was not only bone dry, but also 108°F—seriously! We were here, and I didn’t want to assume that we would find nothing, but for the first 20 minutes it felt like we were walking in an oven. Somehow, I adapted and the heat stopped bothering me, and when I found a male cicada (Diceroprocta eugraphica) singing in an Atriplex canescens (four-wing saltbush) I was motivated to continue looking to see if something else might be out. This was the case, although it was limited to cicadas at the far south end of the stop—a female Hadoa townsendii on the old fruiting stalk of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca), and a female D. eugraphica on A. canescens, both of which cooperated for photos nicely.
Hadoa townsendii (family Cicadidae) on old fruit stem of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca) at edge of white sand dune.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) on Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush) at edge of white sand dune.
Rich had long ago returned to the car to cool off in the air conditioning but then became worried when I went out of view and didn’t return shortly—I’d just started heading back to the car as I saw him coming to look for me! We both decided that we’d had enough of 108°F temperatures and continued on to our next destination, the fantastically beautiful Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument!
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The ascent up into the Organ Mountains is among the most spectacular of any—tall dried stalks of sotol give the slopes a “brushy” appearance in front of sharp, jagged peaks.
Sotol-covered hillsides at lower elevations.
The campground itself is also gorgeous; however, beauty is one thing—the presence of insect activity is another, and the parched-looking, still-quite-warm landscape (though nothing like the oven that we encountered at the previous stop) had us wondering if it would even be worth staying one night, much less the two that we had planned. I suggested spending a little bit of time beating the local vegetation—if I found beetles we would stay, but if not (as I fully expected), we would go back to Upper Karr Canyon to enjoy another night at its high, deliciously cool elevation and then head north in the morning to search for “greener pastures.”
View from our campsite in Aguirre Springs Campground.
I got out the beating sheet and whacked the branch of a nearby hackberry, and to my surprise onto the sheet fell an Agrilus sp. (in fact, I was so surprised that I’d neglected to ready my aspirator and the damn thing got away!). More whacks of the hackberry produced nothing, so I regarded it as a fluke and turned my attention to the gray oaks (Quercus grisea). With one whack, onto the sheet dropped two Sternidius decorus—a species I know only from Arizona, and with continued beating I collected an additional individual or two at regular intervals.
Okay, so it looked like things might be happening here—despite the very dry-looking conditions, and we went about setting up camp. Dusk settled in as we finished our dinner, and I set up not only the ultraviolet lights but also the mercury vapor lamp. To make things interesting, I also set out a prionic acid lure near the lights in case there were any Prionus beetles in the area. It didn’t take long for the first male to show up—a remarkably small P. heroicus, and over the next hour several additional, more normal-sized males showed up.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure near ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
The lights alone also began attracting Cerambycidae as soon as full darkness arrived—many individuals of Methia mormona showed up, but so did other species such as Hypexilis sp. and what I take to be a species of Elaphidiini.
Methia mormona (family Cerambycidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Chrysina gloriosa (glorious jewel scarab—family Scarabaeidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
A female Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) also paid a visit to the lights looking for a free meal (I never saw a female tarantula ever and then see two in five days!).
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) female at night in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Additional cerambycid individuals arrived regularly, and we would have left the lights up longer had occasional gusts and distant lightning not become blustering winds and certain rain. We got the lights taken down and put away with little time to spare, then spent the rest of the night not sleeping while high winds buffeted and heavy rain pelted the tent. (Its a good thing I got a new tent last year—my old one would not have survived!)
Day 9
La Cueva Recreation Area Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico Given the heat we experienced yesterday, we decided to do any lower elevation collecting first thing in the morning and then come back up into the mountains for the afternoon when (hopefully) the higher elevations would provide some relief. Some good species of Buprestidae have been taken by others in the vicinity of La Cueva picnic area on the other side of the mountain range, so we headed down there to take a look.
Backlit, backside peaks!
It was already hot by mid-morning as we headed out on the Arroyo Trail. Conditions were dry, but the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa) had fresh foliage and the whitethorn acacias (Vachellia constricta) even had flowers. Hackberries (Celtis reticulata) were thick along the trail, and large oaks (Q. grisea and Q. turbinella) dotted the arroyo margins. Beating, however, produced nothing—no Buprestidae, no Cerambycidae, not even Chrysomelidae. I didn’t feel like continuing to “beat” a dead horse, especially when temperatures were skyrocketing and the mountains were beckoning, so we cut bait and headed back up the slopes.
La Cueva Recreation Area.
Pine Tree Loop Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The Pine Tree Loop is purported to be a 4-mile loop with 1000 ft of ascent (all within the first two miles!). My main objective was the small leafmining buprestid Brachys rileyi, which is known only from higher elevations in New Mexico and west Texas on Gambel oak (Quercus gambelii), and it was found a few years ago along this very trail. This was not my first attempt to find the species here—I stopped by two years ago guided by that record, which had been placed on the popular citizen scientist platform iNaturalist. Unfortunately, the record was inaccurately placed at a lower elevation (below the Gambel oak zone). I (incorrectly) assumed that the host must have been misidentified and that the species had been collected instead on gray oak (it is not unusual for buprestids thought to be associated with one host to eventually be found on another) and was rather frustrated to later learn that the inaccurate placement was intentional—the beetle had been photographed after it was collected, and because the true location had (amazingly!) not been recorded, the record was instead placed at a random point somewhere near the start of the hike. I must have beaten every oak within 100 feet of that (erroneous) location—obviously without success! I have since found other examples of such “malplacements” on iNaturalist, a practice which I can only describe as sloppy at best, and I implore all iNaturalist users (especially practicing entomologists) to record the most accurate placements for observations of insects photographed later as collected specimens rather than as live individuals out in the field. Obviously, this will involve more detailed note-taking; however, accuracy is, after all, a basic tenet of science! [Now climbing down from my soapbox.]
Greeting at the beginning of the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Okay, so now knowing that the record actually came from the Gambel oak zone on the upper part of the trail, we readied ourselves to hike the trail in its entirety. The scenery grew increasingly spectacular as we ascended, during which time I beat selected trees—mostly Quercus grisea (gray oak), from which I got a lone Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on the lower slopes and a couple of Polycesta arizonica—represented in my collection until now by just a couple of specimens collected many years ago in west Texas—from a bit further up.
Lower Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Polycesta arizonica (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana), both alive and as cadavers, graced the landscape, providing both visual interest and opportunities for shade during our frequent breaks from the hot sun and the relentless ascent.
Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) cadaver along the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Ornate tree lizard (Urosaurus ornatus) on granite exposure in montane juniper/oak:pinyon woodland.
The “Old Man.” Also, an enormous Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) along Pine Tree Loop Trail! 😊
At long last, we reached the Gambel oak zone and I began beating stands near the trail in earnest. Almost immediately I add another Sternidius decorus to the series I’d gotten the previous evening, giving me hope that further beating would bring success. After only a few more minutes, a Brachys landed upside-down on my sheet! I quickly picked it up and popped it into the vial, then turned the vial until I could see the upper side. I was looking for the blue coloration with red apices to confirm its identity as B. rileyi, but instead its uniform coppery color indicated it was B. querci. Until a couple of years ago when I collected a good series of this species in the Davis Mountains of west Texas, I would have been very excited by this capture. Instead, my momentary elation turned to disappointment. Still having collected one species of Brachys gave me hope that I would still find the other, but that would not be the case—continued beating of Gambel oak was fruitless, and even my ability to do that was cut short when a popup thunderstorm moved in and drenched everything (including us!). I will admit that we welcomed the break in temperatures, as the heat and effort from the ascent had by then begun to take its toll on us, but eventually the rain moved out (creating some spectacular views as it moved across the slopes below us), and I resumed my beating.
Rain showers the northern slopes of the Organ Mountains.
For a long time nothing hit my beating sheet (except a shower of water drops, which I had to continually shake off the sheet). Just before we passed back out of the Gambel oak zone after beginning our descent, I got a sort of consolation prize—a large(-ish) sp., and as I was putting the beetle in the vial a Prionus heroicus male flew by and circled slowly back towards me to within net’s reach. Not long after, as I was beating the last of the Gambel oaks that we would see, Rich called out to me from further down on the trail saying he saw another Prionus crawling on the ground and that it had crawled under a dead log. We lifted the log (gray oak), and there she sat—the most enormous gravid female P. heroicus I’d ever seen! I wanted a photo, but she started running so I blocked her with my finger to get her to stay still. This did not work despite repeated attempts, and at one point when I became rather careless with my finger placement she gave me the most painful beetle bite I’ve ever had—bringing blood right on the most sensitive part of my fingertip! I guess giving me a good nip brought her some satisfaction, because after that she stayed put long enough for me to snap the photos I wanted. By this point, we were really feeling the combination of miles, heat, thirst, and hunger and focused on completing the rest of the descent back to the parking area, where we enjoyed a (very) late lunch and cold liquids under a table with shade!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) gravid female under fallen dead trunk of Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico When we got back to the campground, I was so drained that all I wanted to do was rest (and continue rehydrating!). But, I still had the set of jug traps (that I’d taken down from Mescalero Sands) and had decided that the juniper/oak woodland around the campground with large gray oaks could be an interesting place to set them. We’d seen very few people in the area since our arrival (apparently camping in the heat of the summer is not popular here!), but I still wanted to eliminate any chance of the traps being molested so hoofed it past the barbed-wire fence on the west side and bushwhacked across the slope to a line of large gray oaks on the other side of the ravine. The SRW-only trap was placed furthest up the slope, the SRW/EtOH trap in the ravine, and the EtOH-only trap above the ravine nearest the road. On the way back to the campsite, another P. heroicus male flew within net’s reach, which I nabbed and gave to Rich. I also watched a large, orange/black female velvet ant (family Mutillidae) crawling on the ground and soon noticed a male that must have been the same species (smaller but identical coloration) fly in, circle around, and land on the ground not far from the female. I hoped he would encounter her, but when he was within a couple of feet he suddenly took flight and disappeared—perhaps she didn’t smell right or, in fact, was not a conspecific!
Post-rain view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Spotty showers and gusty breezes prevented another night of lighting, but honestly we were both so exhausted from the day that we welcomed the opportunity to relax after dinner and catch up on our field notes.
Day 10
We enjoyed a much more restful night than previously thanks to cooler temperatures and awoke to spectacular views over the valley below. It was hard to think about turning around and heading back to the north and east, but both of us had committed to returning to St. Louis by late Friday—if we were going to keep that commitment we would have to make significant progress today. Our plan was to go back to Black Mesa in the extreme northwestern corner of Oklahoma (where we had been rained out at the beginning of the trip). At about a 7½-hour drive, we would have plenty of time to collect in the area before facing Friday’s 12-hour slog back to St. Louis. I did get a “goodbye gift” before we left—another Polycesta arizonica that was sitting on the tent as we broke camp!
Morning view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Pajarito Rest Stop Roosevelt County, New Mexico At the halfway point of the drive—approaching Tucumcari in east-central New Mexico, we decided to stop at an interstate rest stop for lunch and were pleased to find sheltered picnic tables to enjoy our meal. Afterwards, while exploring the grounds a bit (never pass up an opportunity to look for bugs!), I spotted a lidless white cooler sitting next to the fence along the back edge of the area. I don’t know what I expected to see inside of it, but when I looked I saw standing water in the bottom… and beetles! It was nothing more than a giant bowl trap! We brought the cooler back to the car, poured the contents through a sieve and rinsed before dumping out, and picked out a cerambycid (Strangalia sexnotata), two scarabs (Euphoria kernii), and a few other miscellaneous beetles (but, unfortunately, no Acmaeodera).
“Cooler trap” at Pajarito Rest Area.
Kenton Cimarron County, New Mexico As we continued northward through northeastern New Mexico, we noticed what looked like rainclouds in the distance, and checking the radar forecast showed spot thundershowers moving through the area around Black Mesa. All we could say was “Here we go again!” and spent the remaining few hours of the drive watching the clouds and constantly checking the radar updates trying to predict if rain would actually occur at our planned collecting spot—a sandstone outcropping with juniper/oak/pinyon woodland just east of the tiny town of Kenton. Rain seemed certain as we passed through Clayton—about 30 minutes south and west of Kenton—when we got drenched while making a quick pit stop, but as we neared our destination the clouds started breaking up a bit, even allowing occasional peaks of sunlight. We arrived at the spot at either 5 pm or 6 pm, depending on whether we followed Central or Mountain Time (the time zone boundary passes right through the area), and though it had rained, it was neither cool nor overly wet. I had discovered Prionus heroicus in this area a number of years ago (with the help of prionic acid lures), and given our repeated sightings of this species the previous two days, I set out lures to see if they were active in this area. Almost immediately the males started flying in, easily recognized from afar by their enormous size, peculiar waving of their hind legs while flying, and diesel engine-like sound of their flight!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) males attracted to prionic acid during late afternoon in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I collected a few to document the occurrence, but what I was most interested in doing here was beating the oaks. There are two species here, Quercus × undulata (wavylweaf oak) being the more abundant and Q. mohriana (Mohr oak) represented by sporadic individuals. I had beaten a nice series of Brachys barberi (and one B. aeruginosus) from the former last month and collected a few cerambycid-pruned branches from the latter, but beating on this day produced little. I did, however, note several additional cerambycid-pruned branches on the very same Q. mohriana from which I had collected them last month, which I bundled for rearing, and beating the living branches produced a single Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata.
Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Perhaps an incidental association.)
Also from Q. mohriana, I beat a large, impress caterpillar that I soon decided must be one of the Hemileuca spp. (sheep and buck moths—family Saturniidae). The only species known from the area is H. oliviae (range sheep moth), but it clearly did not look match images of that species, so Rich decided to see if he could rear the caterpillar to adulthood and collected foliage from the tree to provide additional food until it pupated. [Edit: The host, location, and gestalt (especially the reddish dorsal coloration between the segments) suggest it is Hemileuca grotei diana (Grote’s buck moth). Apparently this species has not yet recorded from Oklahoma, but the location in far northwest corner is very close to several Colorado records, and the species also occurs in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Rich also wrote the following update on his attempts to rear the caterpillar to adulthood:
The caterpillar made it home safely. I put the caterpillar in a large jar with cactus soil, and some of the oak leaves I collected off the bush where it was collected. For the next three days, it fed on the leaves at night and left lots of frass behind. During the day, it remained motionless on the dirt. Since last night, the caterpillar has not moved which could mean that it has died or is parasitized. It may also be taking its time to form a pupa. This is what I am hoping for.]
Hemileucagroteidiana (Grote’s buck moth—family Saturniidae) caterpillar beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I continued beating the oaks but found only a few weevils on Q. × undulata before turning back to look around the flats around the parking area. Along the way, I noted a lone Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) along the roadside, from which I beat a single Agrilus. Its chunky size and coppery color had me fooled until I realized it was a stray A. sapindi—normally associated with Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry). I’m not aware of the occurrence of soapberry at this particular spot, but it is common at nearby Black Mesa State Park and likely also occurs in other closer areas.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) beaten from Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Must be an incidental association.)
Checking the flats around the parking area, I found not only Moneilema armatum on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla), but also Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger).
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
After taking photos of the latter, I noticed a large beetle crawling on the ground and realized it was a female P. heroicus—only the second female of this species I’ve seen (the first being only one day earlier at Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument). This brings me to an idea I have about attraction to pheromones in Prionus beetles—released by females (none of which fly to my knowledge) to attract males (which are powerful fliers). The use of prionic acid pheromone lures has greatly facilitated the collection of male Prionus beetles (all species of Prionus appear to be attracted to prionic acid); however, I have also collected females of several species (P. arenarius, P. fissicornis, P. integer, and—now—P. heroicus) while using prionic acid lures to collect male Prionus. In each case, I found the females walking on the ground in the general direction of the lures, suggesting to me that they may be “cheaters”—i.e., rather than producing and releasing their own pheromone, they detect pheromone being released by another female and walk towards the source in hopes of “stealing” a male. If this is true, the energetic cost of producing/releasing pheromone must be sufficiently high to allow cheaters to persist in the population. In today’s case as well, the female was walking in the general direction of the lure from a distance of about 60 meters. It would be interesting to test this hypothesis experimentally (but it will be up to someone else to do this). On the way back to the car, I collected one more M. armatum—this one on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus).
Moneilema armatum (family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Rich came back to the car about the same time, so I checked in with him to see how he had done. He gave me an Acmaeodera (prob. A. mixta/immaculata) that he’d collected on the flower of Pediomelum tenuiflorum (slimflower scurfpea) and wanted to walk back down the gravel road to check for other flowers. I accompanied him, beating oaks along the way without success (but seeing a very impressive Climaciella brunnea—brown wasp mantidfly) until, finally, a B. barberi from Q. mohriana near the bottom of the hill landed on my sheet.
Climaciella brunnea (brown wasp mantidfly—family Mantispidae) beaten from Quercus×undulata (wavyleaf oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
By then it was getting close to dusk, but I hadn’t yet checked the dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) from which I’d beaten two new state records (Oeme rigida deserta and Haplidus testaceus) on my visit here last month. I was keen to see what else might be on the tree a month later and, amazingly, got two more new state records this time as well: Buprestis laeviventris beaten from a branch, and a dead Monochamus clamator clamator (spotted pine sawyer) female stuck on the trunk.
Buprestislaeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. This represents yet another new state record for the area.
Monochamus clamator clamator (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. Two new state records on one tree (again!)?
These would be the last insects that I would collect on the trip, and what a final duo they were! On the way back to the car, I picked up a couple of cerambycid-pruned branches of Q. × undulata that I had set aside earlier for rearing. It will be interesting to see if it is the same species that is pruning the two oak species (Q. × undulata and Q. mohriana). With dusk approaching and us still needing to get to the state park and setup camp, we decided that three hours of collecting at the final spot was a good way to close out 10 straight days of collecting!
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, New Mexico Our “favorite” campsite in the park was unavailable—in fact, the entire West Canyon campground was closed due to installation of a new dump station for the nearby RV campground. As an alternative, we secured a spot at the nearby Lake Etling Campground. I’ve never stayed there because there are no toilets, but the sites are much larger and come with shelters over the picnic tables—something that would have come in handy during my several previous visits with rain. Site #24, in particular—located at the far end of the campground, nestled up against a low cliff, and well out of sight from the rest of the campground, may well now be my new favorite campsite at the park.
Charcoal “fireworks”!
After enjoying a celebratory rib-eye steak dinner, I walked the roads hoping to see night-active beetles. Unfortunately, the same rains that killed the possibility of setting up the lights also apparently kept the beetles holed up, and I saw nothing. It occurred to me then that this was my tenth visit to the park in the past three years, and it has rained on six of those visits! So much for western Oklahoma being a “dry” place!
A final campfire!
Day 11
The drive from Black Mesa to St. Louis was predictably boring and unfulfilling. Normally I would eschew interstates and divided highways in favor of backroads, but at 12 hours even on the quickest route I had to bite the bullet. At least we did not have to get out of the car while the hottest temperatures of the trip (111°F!) settled over us, and the memories of the trip will feed my souls for a long time to come.
The highest temperature of the trip—111°F! Thankfully, this occurred during the drive home!
You may recall in May I set out “jug traps” at several sites in northwestern Oklahoma stretching from Gloss Mountain State Park (just east of the panhandle) to near Kenton (extreme northwestern corner of the panhandle). I call them “jug traps” because they are made out of 1-G milk jugs. “Windows” cut into the upper part of the jug allow entry of beetles attracted to volatiles emanating from a wicked bait bottle suspended inside the upper part of the trap, and propylene glycol in the bottom part of the jug acts as a killing agent and preservative. (See this post for details about the traps and photos.) Six sets of traps were set out at five locations (two sets at Gloss Mountain, one at other locations)—each set consisting of three traps baited with sweet red wine, pure ethanol, or a 50:50 mixture of both. This is the second season of the study (the first was conducted last year at locations across southern Missouri) with the objective of evaluating the efficacy of the trap and baits for capturing various beetles. Longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae) are the primary objective, but certain cetoniine scarabs (flower chafers in the genera Euphoria and Cotinus) and click beeltes (family Elateridae) are also highly attracted to the traps. I’m collecting data on all of these groups for analysis of relative bait efficacy and eventual publication of the results.
In addition to the jug traps, I also placed white “bottle traps” at each location with the objective of collecting beetles in the genus Acmaeodera (family Buprestidae). Finally, to round out the trapping effort I hung a Lindgren funnel trap (baited with a 50:50 mixture of ethanol and sweet red wine) at two of the locations (just for the heck of it!). All of the traps are being serviced and re-baited at ~5-week intervals—the first of these servicing runs done at the beginning of a 3-week collecting trip across the southwestern U.S. Additional collecting is done at each location as time permits. This post presents notes and photos from the second trap servicing run, which took place from 25–29 July 2023.
Day 1 — 25 July 2023 Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma
It’s been five weeks since I last checked the jug traps I placed in northwestern Oklahoma, so today begins a four-day run to take care of them. I’m alone this time (for the first time this year 😢), so instead of conversation I had to rely on a backlog of podcasts to keep me engaged during the 8-hour drive to this, the first of four stops. I got to here about the same time as last time—6 p.m., and it was just as hot (if not hotter—103°F) as last time; however, the heat did not seem to bother me this time. Perhaps all the collecting I’ve done over the past month has me now nicely acclimated. I set about to check the traps and was pleased to find all three hanging intact and apparently undisturbed (always a concern when I check traps). Similarly to last time, Euphoria fulgida was a dominant capture in all three traps, but a nice variety of Cerambycidae were captured as well (nine species total), including the very uncommon Trigonarthris atrata and the first capture of Clytoleptus albofasciatus. There wasn’t much going on in the shortgrass prairie above the canyon, so I headed down to the campground inside the canyon with hopes of a productive evening of blacklighting.
Calopteryx maculata (ebony jewelwing—family Calopterygidae) along canyon stream.
Schistocerca obscura (obscure bird grasshopper—family Acrididae) in shortgrass prairie.
Mentzelia nuda (bractless blazingstar—family Loasaceae) in shortgrass prairie.
I still had about an hour of daylight left when I arrived at the campground, which gave me plenty of time to get coals going for dinner, set up camp, and set out the lights (both ultraviolet [UV] and mercury-vapor [MV]). For a while it was mostly hemipterans (leafhoppers, leaf-footed bugs, stink bugs, and Neotibicen superbus) coming to the lights (I collected a handful of the latter along with a single N. lyricens that also came), but later I started picking up a few interesting things including Eburia quadrigeminata (that answers my question as to whether E. haldemani might occur this far north to replace E. quadrigeminata from the east), a couple of Smodicum cucujiforme, a Telamona sp., and a handful of small Cleridae and Bostrichidae.
Light setup (ultraviolet plus mercury-vapor) in canyon riparian deciduous woodland.
Lithobates blairi (plains leopard frog) comes to feast on insects attracted to the lights.
Day 2—26 July 2023
It was rather warm sleeping, but by the morning temperatures had cooled off nicely and a thin cloud layer promised to keep them from rising too rapidly. After breaking down camp (and coffee!), I checked the Lindgren funnel trap: it had a smattering of Cerambycidae and other insects, but nothing rare or in large numbers. I also noticed a rather large dead branch in the Salix nigra (black willow) tree overhanging the tent—recalling my capture last time of Poecilonota thureura on the tent, I thought perhaps this could have been the source of it and collected the branch for rearing. On the way out to my next locality, I checked the bottle trap that I placed last time and found only a single Acmaeodera sp. along with a Trichiotinus texanus and a few Meloidae (also 10 bees for Mike).
Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) in riparian canyon woodland.
Gloss Mountain State Park Major County, Oklahoma
I wasn’t quite prepared for what I found in the traps this time, although I should have had a clue considering how many Euphoria beetles that were in them last time. The Euphoria-overload has not subsided since then, and as well other insects—namely Plinthocoelium suaveolens and Elateridae—were trapped in overwhelming numbers. I didn’t think to bag the catch and wait for a more comfortable situation to count the specimens until I was already on top of the mesa and committed to filed-counts, and as a result it took me almost three hours to count just the first two traps (one of them had 750 Elateridae!). I finally got smart with the third trap and brought its contents down to the parking area to count at the table and shelter. The traps down below were not as overwhelmed by Elateridae as the traps above, but P. suaveolens were still quite abundant. I did get two new bait trap captures—Knulliana cincta and Plionoma suturalis. I also got a few Eburia that look like the eastern E. quadrigeminata rather than E. haldemani. The last trap (EtOH-only down below) was compromised—broken and with the contents dried to a crisp and unsalvageable. Since the lower set of traps was compromised last time (by wind), I decided not to replace the trap and will exclude the lower set of traps from the data analysis (a shame since there were two species in the traps this time that I have not gotten in any other trap—oh well, in science you live by the rules and you die by them!). In total, at least 14 species of Cerambycidae were present in the traps (including another Aethecerinus wilsonii, which I collected for the first time ever last month near Black Mesa). There were only a few Acmaeoderamixta/immaculata in the bottle traps, but since I have not collected this complex commonly here before and it seems to be a transition zone from one to the other any additional specimens are welcome. By the time I finished counting the last trap, it was almost 6 pm and temps had risen from 95°F at the start to 106°F! I knew it was hot and that I was getting quite dehydrated (despite a food/water break between the two sets of traps), but I didn’t realize just how badly until I started guzzling liquids non-stop after I got back to the vehicle and made a beeline for the nearest town to get even more cold liquids before heading off to the next location.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) male singing in mesquite grassland.
Microstylum morosum (giant prairie robber fly—family Asilidae) in mesquite grassland.
Beaver Dunes Park Beaver County, Oklahoma
As with Alabaster Caverns the night before, I reached the campground with about an hour of daylight and set up camp, cooked dinner, and set up the lights (both ultraviolet and mercury-vapor). It was a good night for lighting, with still warm though not uncomfortable temps, although the now 1st-quarter moon was noticeably brighter than the night before. Right off the bat I got a Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada) and a couple of Polyphylla sp., and over the course of the evening I would get one more of the former and plenty of the latter. Cerambycid-wise, however, I got a single Eburia sp. and one elaphidiine, so not overwhelming. The Eburia looks like it could be E. haldemani, which would be interesting since at the two spots further east the Eburia I collected there look like E. quadrigeminata. The lights shut down a bit early, as the generator ran out of gas and I decided not to hook up the ultraviolet-only lights to the car. With the clatter of the generator suddenly gone, I was able to enjoy the nights sounds that I’d been missing to that point. The unusually wet year the area has been having meant not only that the landscape is unusually green, but the normally dry marsh behind the tent area is full of water—and bull frogs bleating their monotonous calls. Megatibicen dealbatus continued to sing in the taller cottonwoods around the campground—I wasn’t aware the song of this species was so similar to that of the more eastern M. pronotalis (Walker’s cicada), nor that they called as late into the night as this. In fact, few cicadas in my area call deep into the night, a notable exception being M. auletes. I guess it’s not surprising to learn that M. dealbatus does as well, as they are both in the same genus.
Everything you need in a campsite for light-collecting insects—except a 1st-quarter moon!
Day 3 — 27 July 2023
Lower temps and cloud cover were welcome developments this morning, and since I was already at the site where I would be checking traps I was able to get started earlier and be done before temps got too high. The area has evidently gotten a lot of rain recently, so much so that the 2-track shortcut to my traps was washed out and impassable (had to back up a long way… uphill!). I was glad to see the Euphoria extravaganza had ended with no consequent Eburia explosion like there would be in Missouri right now (although here I WANT to see Eburia as they are likely E. haldemani). Elaphidiines seem to rule the cerambycid diversity at this spot—I suppose most/all are associated with the Celtis reticulata that dominates the woodlands around the sand dune margins. Only a smattering of other Cerambycidae were present, none of which were especially unusual. There were about a dozen Acmaeodera in the bottle trap—they look mostly like A. immaculata in this area (along with a variety of bees for Mike).
Acmaeodera mixta (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower) along margin of sand dunes/prairie.
NearLake Etling Cimmaron County, Oklahoma
After finishing at Beaver Dunes, I made the 3-hour drive to Black Mesa State Park (despite the worrying clouds in the direction I’m going!). Just before getting there, I stopped at this spot—given to me by fellow cicindeliphile Dan Duran, who a few days ago saw Cicindela nigrocoerulea, a species I have not yet collected. There was an abundance of grasshoppers and several different types of robber flies, but tiger beetle-wise the only species I saw/collected was the über-widespread Cicindelidia punctulata along with a ground nesting bee (for MIke).
Canyonlands in miniature.
Ominous clouds to the west.
1.6 mi E Kenton Cimmaron County, Oklahoma
The worrying clouds worsened, and by the time I arrived at this spot a few miles northwest of Black Mesa State Park (my ultimate destination) a steady roll of thunder could be heard in the near distance. I decided to bag it—not as in ‘give up,’ but to literally place the trap catch in bags for later counting. The dreaded Euphoria overrun did not materialize, but not did I see anything that looked beyond the usual (I’ll have to wait for the counts to know if I should be pleased or not). I worked with some urgency as the thunder grew nearer and light rain began to fall on me. The catch in the third trap was not overwhelming, so rather than bagging it I brought it back to the car and sorted it there as long as I could manage before the rain became too heavy. Only a handful of Cerambycidae were trapped, none uncommon or in large numbers, but the bottle trap contained more than a hundred Acmaeodera sp. (A. immaculata I suspect) and lots of bees (for Mike). The most exciting capture was not in the traps, but a male Prionus heroicus that I captured in flight (I saw two others, but they never approached closely enough).
Dactylotum bicolor (rainbow grasshopper, painted grasshopper, or barber pole grasshopper—family Acrididae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone outcrop.
Black Mesa State Park Cimmaron County, Oklahoma
Before the rain hit too hard to continue, I managed to service the bottle and Lindgren funnel traps. The former was swamped by perhaps a couple hundred or more of a largish bee species (but curiously not a single Acmaeodera!), while the catch of the latter was in the early stages of decay and could not be salvaged (not sure why, the reservoir should have contained 50% propylene glycol just like all other traps set out this season). Once the rain really started falling, it did not stop. I took advantage of the opportunity to go into town and pick up supplies—perhaps hoping by the time I returned the rain would have stopped and I could proceed with checking the remaining traps or at least set up camp. Such was not the case, and eventually with impending darkness I went ahead and set up while it was still lightly raining. The tent suffered a bit of moisture inside but not too bad, and with the rain fly in place and room to spare inside it was a comfortable place to catch up on my notes. Briquettes were also started in the rain but, thankfully, proceeded to embers, helped along by the eventual end of rain. I would have preferred to have been setting up lights for night collecting—or at least sitting at the table outside so I could process the trap contents that I bagged, but I did enjoy spectacular views as the rain ended amidst dwindling daylight (the rainbow view from my tent was unsurpassed!). After dark, I took a short walk to the park showers to see if any nocturnal insects were walking the roads or had been attracted to the bathroom building lights. Sadly, the park utilizes “low bug” yellow bulbs, so it was a fruitless excursion other than fulfilling the need to move the legs once more before settling down for the evening.
Storm clouds seem to be breaking up.
Rainbow view from my tent after the storm.
1st-quarter moon at night after the storm.
Day 4 — 28 July 2023
I came back in the morning to finish the job with the three jug traps placed in the hackberry/soapberry woodland canyon below the overlook. Again, I bagged the catches from the three traps, not because they were overrun by the beetles that I’m counting, but because they were overwhelmed by hackberry butterflies and millions of tiny sap beetles that would have extended the counting time into the afternoon. Given the 11-hour drive I had to get back to St. Louis, I decided it was best to bag them and count them later so I could arrive home in the evening at a reasonable hour. Also, I ran out of propylene glycol after servicing the bottle and Lindgren funnel traps, so I used straight antifreeze (diluted ethylene glycol) purchased in town to refill the reservoirs of the three jug traps. Functionally it performs the same as diluted propylene glycol, but I prefer to avoid using it when possible since it could be toxic if ingested by wildlife.
Sphecius grandis (western cicada killer—family Crabronidae) on flower of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed) in hackberry/soapberry canyon woodland.
Elaphidiines were super abundant in all three traps—at least three species could be discerned, and Neoclytus mucronatus (apparently the “vogti” form) were also abundant. The most exciting find, however, was a Megacyllene sp. that looks distinctly like M. antennata—if this is the case, it would represent a significant northward extension to the known range!
Welcome to the 13th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering a 20-day insect collecting trip to the southwestern U.S. from June 20 to July 9, 2023. Joining me for the entire trip was Mike Arduser, a hymenopterist specializing in native bees with whom I’ve collected on and off for nearly 40 years! (For those who don’t know, Mike discovered what became the holotype of Acmaeodera chuckbellamyi, a species I described to honor my friend and mentor, the late Chuck Bellamy. That holotype remains the only known representative of the species.)The trip started with three days in the Oklahoma panhandle, where I checked traps that I’d placed a month earlier. We then collected for a couple of days in southern Colorado as we made our way west and spent 10 days collecting across southern Utah and northern Arizona. On our way back east, we spent three days in northern New Mexico and a couple of days in the Texas panhandle before making the long drive back to St. Louis on Day 20.
Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma After an 8-hour drive from St. Louis I was rarin’ to go. Unfortunately, it was blazing hot and humid—so much so that I really wasn’t prepared for it. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and that job was to do the first check on the insect “jug” traps that I set out last month. I hiked down into the canyon and was glad to see the first trap still hanging (I always worry about people molesting my traps, and if the people don’t do it the raccoons will). My happiness quickly turned to dread when I saw how many beetles it had captured—it was literally overflowing with Euphoria flower scarabs (both E. fulgida and E. sepulchralis)! Oh well, I’m out for three weeks and don’t have to be anywhere by anytime, so it’s not a problem however long it takes to count the traps. In addition to Euphoria, traps baited with sweet red wine (SRW) or a 50:50 mixture of SRW and pure ethanol (EtOH) also had a nice variety of Cerambycidae. The trap baited with EtOH only had far fewer Euphoria and Cerambycidae—consistent with what I saw in my trapping study last year in Missouri; however, I was surprised to see the SRW-baited trap perform as well as it did (more Euphoria and only slightly fewer Cerambycidae compared to the mixture). If it continues to perform this well, I may opt to using SRW only for these traps. The most exciting find was Trigonarthris atrata (one of each in the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps)—I’ve never collected this species, and it seems to be relatively uncommon throughout the south-central U.S. where it occurs.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) taken in “jug trap” baited with 50:50 ethanol/sweet red wine in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in gypsum collapsed cave canyon.
Hiking out of the canyon was difficult—the path I chose was almost vertical, especially at the top, and carrying equipment and a net as well made keeping my balance precarious. At least the gypsum rock is very “tacky” and made it easy to get a secure foothold. Lastly, I set a white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie along Raptorsroost Trail above the canyon—hoping it catches Acmaeodera during the next month.
Escobaria vivipara (spinystar cactus—family Cactaceae) in gypsum-red clay shortgrass prairie.
Afterwards we went to the Canyon Campground and set up our camp, cooked some delicious burgers, and drank some beer (tasted so good considering how hot it was). I was, however, simply too exhausted to be motivated enough to setup the lights. Instead, we chilled for awhile before turning in and hoping for lower temperatures (which eventually did come down enough that we were able to get a good night’s sleep).
Calosoma marginale (family Carabidae) on the trunk of a large Juniperus virginiana (eastern red-cedar) greets us at our campsite.
Hexagenia limbata (family Ephemeridae) sub-imago attracted to light in our campground in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Day 2
We awoke to cloudy skies—a bit of a surprise, and as we we taking down camp it actually began to rain a bit. We hadn’t put the rain fly on the tent last night—hoping to maximize circulation because of the heat. I’m glad we didn’t get woken up at 3 am with rain coming down and have to quick put the rain fly over the tent in the middle of the night! After breaking down camp, I checked the Lindgren funnel trap that I placed in the juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest near the camp site the last time I was here and was happy to see it hadn’t been overrun by Euphoria (which I did not count or keep) but did have a few elaphidiines and Neoclytus. The find of the day, however, occurred while we were breaking down camp and I saw what I thought was a Dicerca sp. on the tent. I casually took a photo and then put it in a vial and took a closer look to decide if it was D. lurida or D. obscura. As I was looking at it, I noticed the impunctate pronotal midline and realized that it was not a Dicerca but a Poecilonota, and the shape and size suggested it was P. thureura, a species I had not collected since the first time I found it in 1980! What a fantastic find to start the day.
Poecilonota thureura (family Buprestidae) on my tent in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Gloss Mountain State Park MajorCounty, Oklahoma We were not optimistic as we drove back towards the Gloss Mountains—a thick cloud layer blanketed the sky, and the rain while taking down our campsite had us thinking we might be spending much of the day dodging rain. As we approached the state park, however—its iconic profile looming in the distance as we approached, a patch of sun appeared over the park; a welcome sight along with the much more reasonable temps compared to the oven we dealt with yesterday. Blooms were diverse and plentiful—I’ve never seen this area so much and green, and Mike got to work looking at them in search of bees. I would have loved to have done the same thing (except beetles), but with the business of trap-checking at hand (and six traps the check, at that!) I put my nose down and headed up the slope to the first set of traps near and on the top of the mesa.
“Stairway” up the the top of the mesa.
The SWR trap had suffered wind-throw—some of the beetles were on the ground below the trap; however, it must have happened very recently (not more than a couple days) because the beetles on the ground were still pliable and easily located/counted. Once again the traps were inundated with Euphoria flower scarabs, while Cerambycidae were almost non-existent but did consist of two more Trigonarthris atrata to double my series of this excellent find. The SRW/EtOH trap suffered negligible wind-throw and, like the previous, was inundated with Euphoria with only two Cerambycidae (Neoclytus acuminatus and N. mucronatum). The EtOH trap suffered the worst wind-throw, with a branch falling on it and dumping the entire contents. Again, this must have happened recently because all the beetles on the ground below the trap were still pliable and easily located/counted (again, mostly Euphoria). While I was atop the mesa, I set one white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie near the EtOH trap, and as I was doing this I collected an Onthophagus sp. on the ground in the mixed-grass prairie atop the mesa.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine placed in soapberry/bumelia copse on south slope of gypsum/red clay mesa.
Epicauta immaculata (family Meloidae) on flower Oenethera serrulata (yellow sundrops) on slope of gypsum-capped clay mesa.
Back down on the slope, I encountered Mike, who had collected one Plinthocoelium suaveolens and seen a mating pair on the flowers of Sapindus drummondii; I checked for more periodically throughout the rest of the afternoon and didn’t see any, but I did collect a nice series of Trichodesbibalteatus off the flowers.
Plinthocoelium suaveolenssuaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on flower Sapindus drummondii on clay slope of gypsum-capped mesa.
Back down in the plains below along the south edge of the park, I was disappointed to find that all three jug traps were wind-thrown and completely dumped with no possibility of data collection. Because the only trees in the area are short-statured mesquites, I clipped the traps directly to a branch, but the strong winds were able to “spin” the traps on their hooks. I reset all the traps, and to prevent a repeat of this I looped guide lines through the jug handle in several directions and tied them to the branches. Hopefully next time I’ll be able to collect data from this set of traps.
Jug trap secured with guide lines to prevent wind-throw.
While I was there, I set a white bottle trap in gypsum/clay mixed-grass prairie near the SRW trap, then found several Chrysobothris octocola and Actenodes mendax (new state record?!) and on a wind-thrown branch of Prosopis glandulosa. Back in the parking lot, I checked the mesquite (where many years ago I first found C. octocola and Plionoma suturalis (as new state records) and found several more of each as well as a single Acmaeodera sp. prob. mixta, all on dead branches of Prosopis glandulosa. By this time, I was exhausted and needed to eat something before heading back up the slope to check the soapberry flowers one last time before heading off to our next destination.
Actenodes mendax (family Buprestidae) on branch Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in clay/gypsum mixed-grass prairie.
Chlorochroa osborni (family Pentatomidae) on red clay mixed-grass prairie.
Beaver Dunes Park BeaverCounty, Oklahoma It took about two hours to drive here from Gloss Mountain State Park, and given the amount of time it took to process the traps there it was too late to do the same here. Instead, we got a few supplies in town and enjoyed a spectacular sunset as we setup camp and cooked dinner (ballpark brats!).
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Day 3
We spent a good part of the morning curating specimens and updating our field notes from yesterday, then broke camp and headed out to check the traps. We did notice that temps were cooling rapidly and skies looking more ominous, and as we arrived at the site we began to hear rumblings of thunder. I decided to forge ahead but try to stay close in case the skies opened up. Winds were picking up as I reached the first trap (SRW), but I got it checked quickly as there were few beetles to deal with (but tons of moths!). I was frankly glad to see it was not overwhelmed with Euphoria flower scarabs, which would have meant much more time counting beetles. It had dropped but not spilled, and the bait bottle was laying nearby, and since the reservoir was full I considered the data not compromised. The SRW/EtOH trap was also full of moths, but in this case I dumped the contents into the strainer, reset the trap (still hanging but the bait bottle blown out), and brought the contents back to the car to count in case the skies opened up. It threatened to do so as I was counting, but I used the hatch as a shield (and took advantage of the lights it offered). In this case there were a few more Euphoria, but not the overwhelming numbers seen at the two sites further east— makes me wonder if we are right at the edge of the range for E. fulgida. Cerambycidae included 21 elaphidiines (I’m sure there are 3 or more species involved). After conditions began improving, I retrieved the EtOH trap contents and brought the contents back to the car for sorting/counting. The number of cerambycids was surprising (73—the highest of any trap so far on the trip), given that EtOH traps have consistently shown poorer efficacy during the course of this study. I won’t know whether to be excited about any of the cerambycids until I can do IDs, but again there appear to be at least three or more species involved. Before leaving, I set out a bottle trap for Acmaeodera in open sand dune prairie near a lot of flowers and near the SRW trap. Traps all checked and reset, and the rain, thunder, and lightning continuing to roll, we decided to head west!
Black Mesa State Park & vicinity CimarronCounty, Oklahoma We arrived at Black Mesa State Park mid-afternoon, and with the continued threat of rain we decided to setup camp while conditions were dry rather than waiting until later. Once done, we marveled at the amazing abundance and diversity of wildflowers in bloom—every time I’ve been here before the place has been bone dry! Given this, Mike decided to search for bees around the campground while I worked the traps I had placed in the area last month. There are two sets—one in the park in a canyon filled with hackberry and soapberry, and another north of the park at an interesting sandstone outcrop near Kenton with oaks and pines—unusual for the area! I decided to check the latter because I thought it had the better chance to produce something interesting. Boy, was that an understatement; as soon as I walked up to the SRW trap and looked inside, I saw it—a live Aethecerinus wilsonii walking over the hoards of Euphoria and other insects that had been attracted to the trap! I’ve been looking for this species since forever, and here was a big, beautiful male. I picked it out, dried it off a bit, and set it on a tree branch for a few photographs before getting down to counting the rest of the trap catch. This included 130 Euphoria fulgida (I thought they might be a different species at first, but then I determined that they are simply the western “fuscocyanea” form of the species—clearly I had not reached the western limit of the species at the previous spot!) and 30 elaphidiines. The SRW/EtOH trap was even more loaded with Euphoria and elaphidiines, but as expected the EtOH trap had lower numbers and diversity.
Aethecerinus wilsonii (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
Euphoria fulgida (western “fuscocyanea” form—family Scarabaeidae). In “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
I was hoping I would have enough time to check the last set of traps before it got too late but decided doing so would be cutting things too close. I did decide, however, that I had time to set out the last Lindgren funnel trap in the North Canyon of the park and the last bottle trap at the Scenic Overlook. I placed the bottle trap first in an area with lots of wildflowers (where it will, hopefully, be visible to Acmaeodera visiting the flowers), then bushwhacked to a large cottonwood I’d spotted earlier in the North Canyon. When I reached the tree, I realized a hiking trail passed right by it, which would make the trap too vulnerable to vandals (amazing that, even out in nature, I have to worry about that), plus the understory around the tree was thick with poison ivy. I hiked instead up the canyon to the road and found a large hackberry off the trail where I could hang the trap discretely.
“Bottle” trap for trapping flower-visiting insects such as Acmaeodera (family Buprestidae).
Traps placed, I went back to the campground where Mike and I enjoyed cool temps, a nice warm campfire, and grilled-to-perfection strip steaks while admiring incredible evening skies!
Sunset in West Canyon Campground at Black Mesa State Park.
Enjoying a brew and the campfire at sunset.
Day 4
It rained overnight, but our tent worked to perfection and we slept well under cool nighttime temps. Mike had set out bowl traps at the campground for bees and while doing so encountered a Moneilema armatum mating pair in the flower of Opuntia phaeacantha. I’ve never seen an individual of this or any species of Moneilema in the flower of the host cactus! After breaking camp, we headed out to check the final set of traps, but on the way we stopped at the “Petrified Forest” to see what we might find on the spectacular blaze of wildflowers that the park is sporting right now. I imagine that such a spectacle is unusual for the area and that most years are not like this. Despite the abundance and diversity of bloom, there wasn’t a lot of corresponding insect activity. There are some iNaturalist records of two Tetraopes spp. from this area, but I found very little milkweed along the Bird Haven Trail leading off of the area and no beetles. I suspect it is still too early for them, as the plants that I did find were all very small.
Burnsius communis (common checkered-skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moth—family Erebidae) on flower of Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Back at the “forest” I did find a single Acmaeodera in the mixta/immaculata complex on the flower of Engelmannia peristenia, a Trichiotinus texanus on the flower of Cirsium undulatum, and a rather darkly marked Batyle suturalis on the flower of Thelesperma magnicamporum.
Batyle suturalis (sutured longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
I also got a chuckle when I was photographing one of the petrified logs and Mike just then realized it was not a regular log that I was photographing!
Petrified log.
We then returned to the Canyon Overlook so I could check my traps. The floral diversity atop the overlook was just as amazing as down in the canyon, and as Mike set about searching for bees I got down to the business of checking the last set of traps. I expected results similar to the traps I’d checked last evening, and I was not surprised, with Euphoria fulgida “fuscocyanea” and elaphidiine Cerambycidae forming the bulk of the catch. I did, however, find not only some very interesting mantidflies (Climaciella brunnea) but a few individuals of the Polistes paper wasp species that must serve as the model for the mantidfly. I kept both, as this will be an interesting association to document.
Apiomerus spissipes (family Reduviidae) in flower of Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear) in shortgrass prairie.
Copestylum caudatum (hairy-horned bromeliad fly—family Syrphidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Before leaving the area, we stopped again at the sandstone outcrop north of the park where I’d checked my traps the day before. I didn’t see much going on then, but it had been cool and cloudy and I hoped today’s sunshine and warmer temps would bring out more insect activity. Mike actually did pretty well with bees at the spot, but I found almost nothing—beating the oaks yielded nothing, beating the pines yielded nothing, and beating the junipers yielded nothing. Only when I beat the mesquites did I find a few blister beetles and mesquite bugs (none of which I kept). I did find a single Lycus arizonensis on Asclepias aspera (antelope horn), which I thought seemed way out of range for the species. In fact, it is way out of the normal range (central Texas through New Mexico and Arizona), but another person has already recorded this species on iNaturalist from a location very near to this one. Given the lack of beetle activity (and Mike now satisfied with the bees he had picked up over the past two days in the area), we decided to head north into Colorado on our eventual way to Utah.
Nemognatha nigripennis (family Meloidae) on flower of Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed) in shortgrass prairie.
Trichodes oresterus (family Cleridae) on flower on Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Brachystola magna (plains lubber grasshopper—family Romaleidae).
Vogel Canyon Picnic Area OteroCounty, Colorado The drive north into Colorado and towards Vogel Canyon took us through some quite remote areas, the state line crossing actually occurring on a gravel road. I last came here about ten years ago with Jeff Huether, and I thought it might be a good stop before spending the night on our way to Utah. By now temps were in the 90s and the winds were whipping strongly from the south, so I opted not to use the beating sheet and instead just carried an aerial net. Not long after hiking down the Overlook Trail I saw what I thought was an Eleodes clown beetle crawling on the ground and then doing its characteristic “headstand” when it saw me. I figured I’d take a photo, but as I was doing so I realized it had long antennae—and that it was actually a Moneilema cactus beetle (M. armatum to be precise)! Cactus beetles look very much like clown beetles, which I believe are models that the cactus beetles mimic (the former are noxious, but the latter are not), but I’ve never seen cactus beetles actually mimicking the clown beetles behaviorally! Of course, no amount of coaxing could convince the cactus beetle to resume his headstand mimicry, so I had to be content photographing it clinging to the ground. I believe it came from a patch of Opuntia polyacantha very near where I first saw it, and from that point in I searched not only this plant but also patches of a second species of pricklypear cactus (O. phaeacantha) as well as tree cholla (Cylindropuntia imbricata)—without success! I did note that other iNaturalist records of cactus beetles in southeastern Colorado were later than this date, so it seems it may still be a bit early for them.
As at Black Mesa State Park, I also checked lots and lots of Asclepias latifolia (broadleaved milkweed) for Tetraopes milkweed beetles but saw none (again, it’s probably a bit too early for them). As I was doing this, I noticed Cacama valvata (cactus dodgers) bolting from the chollas whenever I got too close to them, but I did manage to sneak up on one for a photo.
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper chaparral.
Frustratingly, the abundance and diversity of flowers here (the entire area around Oklahoma, Colorado, and Texas seems to have been inundated with rain this year) was void of insect activity—Mike did get some interesting bees at Escobaria cactus flowers, but for me beetle activity was almost zero. After reaching the end of the Overlook Trail and looking at the petroglyphs (disappointing, as vandalism has made it impossible to discern the original etchings), I hiked back along the Canyon Trail and—finally—doubled my beetle count for the spot when I found a Typocerus octonotatus (not at all uncommon) on the flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum! Not much else was seen during the remainder of the hike, save for an Efferia sp. robber fly holding as prey a green lacewing (family Chrysopidae).
Overlook Trail.
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) with chrysopid (green lacewing) prey in juniper chaparral.
Back up at the trailhead, we decided Colorado is not where it’s happening right now and in the morning we’ll head towards Utah. On the way out, we saw a gorgeous Coluber constrictor flaviventris (yellow-bellied racer) crossing the road so stopped to take photographs. It was not very cooperative, but I managed to get a few good (enough) shots of it.
Distant thunderclouds.
Coluber constrictor flaviventris (eastern yellow-bellied racer—family Colubridae) in juniper chaparral.
Rocky Ford, Colorado There weren’t any public land campgrounds in or around Vogel Canyon as far as we could determine, so we hoteled it in Rocky Ford near La Junta a few miles north of the canyon. The High Chaparral Inn was comically small town, and finding something to eat for dinner turned into a major fiasco due to the lateness of the hour. After a fruitless drive north of town and back, we ended up having to sit for half an hour in the parking lot of the Sonic right across the street from the hotel just to get a burger—without a milkshake because the ice cream machine was broken!
High Chaparral Inn—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
Day 5
If last night’s dinner fiasco represented the worst of road tripping, the following morning coffee stop represented the very best. Actually, I’ve found some of the best coffee in the smallest of towns out west, and “The Coffea (not a typo) Shop” had it all—casual atmosphere, fun trinkets, delicious burritos, darling baristas, and most importantly incredible coffee, bold in flavor and brewed strong. It was so good I bought a pound of bulk to bring home with me.
The Coffea Shop—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
The drive west along Hwy 50 later that afternoon was one of the most scenic I’ve ever encountered, and it all started in Cañón City at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. A Tyrannosaurus rex clad in yellow tennis shoes welcomed us to the dinosaur theme that dominates the western U.S. Driving west, we oohed and aahed at every turn as the road followed the twists and turns of the Arkansas River amidst steep canyon walls until eventually we made it over Monarch Pass.
Yellow tennis shoe clad Tyrannosaurus rex—Cañón City, Colorado.
5 mi SE Montrose MontroseCounty, Colorado Last year Rick Westcott sent me label information for an undescribed species in the genus Nanularia—a very unusual location for a genus whose known members reside almost exclusively in California (the exception being the relatively widespread N. brunnea and the enigmatic N. pygmaea, the latter still known only from the unique holotype labeled simply “Texas”).
Eriogonum pelinophilum habitat near Montrose, Colorado.
The specimen was collected in mid-July on Eriogonum pelinophilum (all species in the genus seem to feed exclusively on plants in this genus), but our path to Utah took us right through the city of Montrose so I decided to give it a shot. I’m pretty sure I found the locality (despite the somewhat imprecise label data—“8 km SE Montrose, 1875m”). The spot was small, but the elevation was spot on and—more importantly—there was lots of Eriogonum that seemed to be restricted to just that area. I searched the plants thoroughly, and while I did collect a few leaf beetles (a small series of Saxinus sp. and a single Neochlamisus sp.) and photographed a stunning clearwing moth (Synanthedon polygoni) associated with the plant, I did not see any Nanularia. For now, I’ll file this spot away and keep it in mind for the next time I happen to pass through this area—hopefully around mid-July!
Synanthedon polygoni (buckwheat root borer moth—family Sesiidae) on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
Hyles lineata (white-lined sphinx—family Sphingidae) caterpillar on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
27 mi ENE Gateway MesaCounty, Colorado As we continued in our way west towards Utah, we passed through a spectacular canyon in Colorado’s “mesa country” with towering, jagged red bluffs lining either side of the highway. As we gained elevation and passed over the summit, conditions suddenly seemed greener and we started seeing lots of wildflowers in bloom along the roadsides. This is always a good sign for potential insect collecting, and if even greater interest to me were the stands of Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak) along the fencerows—a good host for buprestid beeltes (Brachys rileyi being the one I’d be most interested in finding). We found a turnout and pulled over to inspect the wildflowers and see what we might find. Mike found bees coming to Penstemon (foxglove), but I did not see beetles of any kind visiting the various flowers present. I then turned my attention to the Gambel’s oak and got out the long-handled net to works the high branches—collecting a nice series of Cyrtolobus treehoppers, Curculio weevils, and other miscellaneous beetles but no buprestids. I also collected a few Curculio weevils off the Cercocarpus (mountain mahogany) trees growing alongside the oaks. By now it was nearly 7 pm, so we continued west with the goal of making it to Gateway and finding lodging.
A very scenic Hwy 141 in western Colorado.
John Brown Canyon MesaCounty, Colorado We had expected to find lodging in the town of Gateway, but it was nothing more than a closed convenience store and a few private residences. Fortunately, we found this spectacular canyon just outside of town with camping allowed.
Mike enjoys a brew while dinner cooks.
Me enjoying our campfire in John Brown Canyon.
A phenomenal night sky!
Hesperumia sulphuraria (sulphur moth—family Geometridae) at light in juniper/pinyon chaparral.
Day 6
We broke camp early and continued west. Once we drove up to the top of the canyon and breached the rim, the morning light gave us a chance to look back and see exactly how spectacular the canyon was where we’d spent the night.
John Brown Canyon—Mesa County, Colorado.
above Hideout Canyon Manti-La Sal National Forest GrandCounty, Utah It was another morning of driving through spectacular canyonlands as we made out way to the next planned locality. Road conditions were tough—it took us an hour and a half to drive the 30 mile distance over incredibly rocky and steep terrain, and in fact we were stopped short just a mile from our destination by a rock ledge drop-off that was a bit too much for my loaded-to-max-capacity Bronco Sport to handle without risk of damage (a full-sized Bronco probably would have had no problem). The habitat, however, was surely what we were looking for—high elevation pinyon pine and juniper woodland, the former tree being the probable host of the recently described Buprestis pinyoni—so we parked the off the road and began to explore.
Pinyon/juniper woodland.
There was—again—a diversity and abundance of bloom for Mike to look for bees and me to look for Acmaeodera, but I first began by beating a dying pinyon (Pinus edulis) and promptly got a small series of Enoclerus sp. Beating other dying and dead pinyons throughout the course of the afternoon would produce more Enoclerus and also several acanthocine longhorned beetles and a Monochamus clamator. Besides the junipers, which produced nothing, the only other truly woody plants were Cercocarpus sp. (mountain mahogany) and what I would later determine to be Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry), the latter producing a single very tiny clerid. Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) were blooming nicely, and after not seeing anything in the blooms at first I eventually started picking up Trichodes ornatus and Acmaeodera bowditchi.
Acmaeodera bowditchi (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Among the diversity of flowering plants present, the only other one that I saw attracting beetles was Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy), from which I picked a few A. bowditchi and also some smaller Acmaeodera (perhaps two species). I did do some beating of living Pinus edulis, not expecting much but alway hopeful, and got only a couple of Dichelonyx sp. scarabs. The collecting was not fast and furious, but I encountered different things with enough frequency to keep me motivated and ended up spending much of the afternoon there. Eventually we decided to leave, having sufficient series of what we’d found and not seeing anything new, and began the long, rocky, bouncy trek out of the wilderness.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Euphydryas sp. (family Nymphalidae) on flower of Tetratneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
On the way towards the last stop, I’d noticed a large Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) along the side of the road with several large, recently-dead branches on the roadside—apparently injured by heavy machinery (perhaps a road scraper). I’d passed it by on the way up, anxious to reach our destination, but I wasn’t about to pass it by on the way out (and it’s fortunate that I stopped). I saw little on the branches at first, but after careful inspection of the trunk (hoping to see Buprestis pinyoni) I noticed several small Enoclerus sp. running rapidly upon it—a sure sign that the tree was the right stage for attracting woodboring beetles. Then I saw it—sitting right on the trunk at a spot I must have looked at before, a nice big Dicerca tenebrosa; not a rare species but one I’ve never collected before. I searched the trunk and all branches again carefully and did not find another, but I did pick up a few of the Enoclerus. My curiosity quenched (and feeling a bit vindicated for wanting to stop), we continued on our way.
Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) on trunk of injured Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Day 7
Our destination last night was Sandthrax Campground. It was a beautiful primitive campground in a gorgeous sandstone canyon lined with large cottonwoods, but it was not what we expected since it lacked pinyon pines—the host of same beetle I was looking for at the previous spot and recorded from this locality in the type series. Perhaps the specimen is mislabeled, or perhaps it was able to fly a long distance and happened to be picked up by an entomologist camping at the campground—who knows! Nevertheless, we had a wonderful campfire after we arrived and enjoyed comfortable sleeping temperatures through the night.
Morning in Sandthrax Campground.
After briefly looking around in the morning and not seeing enough (anything!) of interest to warrant spending time there, we packed up and started making our way to the area around Page, Arizona. It would take all day, as we left open the possibility of stopping anywhere that caught our fancy along the way.
Hog Springs Recreation Area GarfieldCounty, Utah The first such place was Hog Springs Recreation Area, just a few miles down the road. It was a chance to explore up close the stunning red sandstone canyon leading down to the Colorado River as it flowed through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.
Hog Springs Recreation Area.
There was a lot of Sphaeralcea, mostly past bloom but with still enough individual blossoms to make them attractive. Diadasia sp. bees were utilizing the flowers, but did not see any of the Buprestidae or Cerambycidae that utilize Sphaeralcea and that I’d hoped to see.
Diadasia sp. (family Apidae) in flower of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in cottonwood canyon.
I walked up the canyon a ways and saw a Trimerotropispallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper) and a largish and very skittish lizard that I take to be Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard) that let me take only two photos of it (and not very good ones at that) before it scampered up a large cottonwood tree out of view. The lack of insect activity was a bit concerning, especially considering that our previous location also had little to offer, so we continued our way with hopes of better collecting ahead.
Canyon Trail—Hog Springs Recreation Area.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on sandstone in cottonwood canyon.
Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard—family Phrynosomatidae) in cottonwood canyon.
We passed through some of the most amazing canyon scenery that either one of us had ever seen on our way down through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area to a raging Colorado River. I’ve visited southern Utah briefly before and knew that the landscape was incredible, but what we saw today was otherworldly!
Hwy 95 passes through spectacular canyons.
After climbing back up on the other side we reached pinyon/juniper woodland, and it became increasingly impossible for me to resist stopping every time I saw a pinyon pine with light green to brown needles—meaning the tree was dying or had recently died and was, thus, ripe for infestation by woodboring beetles!
Harmony Flat San JuanCounty, Utah We finally decided to stop in an area called Harmony Flat, where we saw not only scattered dead trees within the woodland but also low roadcuts boasting a bit of floral bloom. I looked at the blooms first, hoping that at this higher elevation I might see species of Acmaeodera on the flowers, but none were seen (nor were beetles of any kind for that matter—only bees, which Mike did find of interest!).
Dianthidium (Dianthidium) sp. (family Megachilidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
Diadasia diminuta complex (globemallow chimney bees—family Apidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
I turned my attention to checking out some of the dead/dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pibe) in the area. The first one I approached had a big, recently wind-thrown branch lying underneath an otherwise healthy tree, and when I started inspecting it I quickly found a Chrysobothris sp. on one of the branches. More careful inspection of the entire branch failed to turn up any additional individuals, so I turned my attention to an older dead branch lying underneath the more recently fallen one. I did not expect to see beetles in the branch, but I thought maybe there would be some still inside of it and used my knife to cut into the wood and hopefully follow galleries to their still-resident inhabitant. Very quickly I found a small Pogonocherus sp. in its pupal chamber—a fresh and perfectly formed adult but not yet emerged from the wood. Sadly, the only other beetle I found within the wood was a dead Chrysobothris sp. that had successfully pupated and neared adult emergence but then died before completing such. I searched for additional dead/dying pinyon pines but encountered fencing that prevented me from reaching those that I could see until spotting another one (living but with a few dying branches) near where I’d parked the car—along the way collecting a Cryptocephalus sp. that dropped off of an Artemisa sp. (sagebrush) as I approached. The dying branches produced only Enocleruslecontei, a small series of which I collected. Finally, after checking in with Mike, who was having decent luck collecting bees off the blooms along the roadside, I spotted one fairly large dying pinyon line in the distance and went to sample it. The tree itself produced only more E. lecontei, which I did not feel the need to collect more of, but then I noticed a largish branch that had broken off earlier and seemed to be in perfect condition for attracting woodboring beetle adults. This was born out when I collected first one and then another Chrysobothris sp. (not the same species as the previous individual) on the main branch portion. Having spent a good hour at the site, and still needing to reach an area with cellular service to contact Paul Kaufman—another collector planning to meet up with us, we decided to continue on ahead.
Chrysobothris sp. (family Buprestidae) on branch dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Enoclerus lecontei (blackbellied clerid—family Cleridae) beaten from branch of dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive toward Page, Arizona took us off the plateau and down Moki Doug Way Grade—a terrifyingly steep but incredibly scenic drop into the lowlands below.
Moki Doug Way Grade.
Approaching Mexican Hat, we finally got into cellular service and heard from Paul, who had just passed through town and was approaching the grade (we apparently crossed paths shortly after coming down the grade). We made arrangements to meet and then caravanned to our next planned stop to look for a tiny buprestid species called Acmaeodera navajo.
8 mi E Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona Conditions were incredibly windy, and while Mike did find a few bees there were no beetles of interest (or even not of interest!). There was Sphaeralcea (globe mallow) in bloom (a known flower host for A. navajo), though it was a bit past its prime, and I hoped the lack of almost any insect activity was not a bad omen for the area. Fortunately I had other localities recorded for finding this species, so we packed up and moved onto the next one.
Near Page, Arizona.
15 mi S Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona The area east of Page not producing any of the Acmaeodera navajo I had hoped to find, we next came to this spot south of town. It was more of the same, however, with brutal winds and no beetles of interest despite the presence of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in bloom. I did find Trirhabdanitidicollis on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush), a few of which I collected.
Trirhabda nitidicollis (rabbitbrush leaf beetle—family Chrysomelidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While I was photographing the beetle, a diminutive Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue) flitted around and landed on the plant. I managed to photograph it (but missed the focus!).
Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue—family Lycaenidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Since it seemed not much was happening in the area, the three of us discussed our options for what to do next. We considered skipping the other localities I had recorded for the area and just driving on to the area north of Kanab where we planned to collect next. However, it would be approaching dark when we arrived (not fun setting up camp in the dark), so we opted to hotel it in Page instead. Since the other planned localities in the area were outside of town and on the way to Kanab, we could check them in the morning and move on if nothing was happening. Driving into town towards our hotel, we happened upon a restaurant called “Gone West” and were pleasantly surprised at the delicious amber ale on draft, excellent fish and chips, and live music covering some pretty cool songs—most with a bit of an electric guitar bent (much to my liking!).
Day 8
Hwy 89 at State Line CoconinoCounty, Arizona We awoke to calm conditions with no trace of the battering winds we experienced yesterday, and after coffee, a bite to eat, and stocking up on provisions we navigated to another locality west of town where Acmaeodera navajo has been collected (right at the state line between Arizona and Utah).
Arizona/Utah State Line.
Literature records indicate that adults are attracted to flowers of Sphaeralcea, Linum, and Opuntia, and we quickly began finding blooming plants of the first two. Almost immediately we began finding Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata—a species I’ve collected only sparingly before, on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, and after a bit of time I finally found my first A. navajo(!) on the same along with an occasional A. immaculata on. On the south part of the loop (up one side of the road and down the other), there were scattered plants of Helianthus ambigua, on the flowers of which we found a few individuals of the same three species. By the time I finished the loop, I wasn’t quite satisfied with the sparing numbers of specimens I had collected, especially of A. navajo, so I did another loop. During this time, insect activity had picked up considerably, and I collected more than enough of all three species for my needs.
Acmaeodera navajo (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow).
Acmaeodera immaculata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
I also took the chance to cross the state line so I could label some specimens from Utah (Kane Co.), collecting a few A. pubiventris lanata and a single A. navajo on flowers of S. grossulariifolia.
I think we probably arrived at the spot just as the insects were starting to become active (~10 am), and over the course of the next two hours their activity really picked up. At any rate, full collecting bottles has a way of replenishing enthusiasm for the hunt, and we headed towards the next spot full of optimism about our chances of success. POSTSCRIPT: Mike found a live male Prionus sp. in the door-well of our vehicle. I doubt that it is really from this locality, but rather that it flew into the car at a previous site a result of being attracted to residual prionic acid from lures that I have had previously. For now I will place it with this locality but reassess which of the previous localities it might have come from after identification of the species.
23 mi NW Page KaneCounty, Utah There exists a very old record of Nanularia brunnea in the University of California—Davis collection from this locality. It is a species I’ve never collected, despite living for five years in California—part of the range of this, the most widespread and commonly encountered species in the genus. I was heartened to see its host plant—Eriogonum inflatum—as soon as I got out of the vehicle, and the plant appeared to be common along a sandy 2-track paralleling the highway. Paul walked one way and I walked the other, and almost immediately Paul came back showing me something he’d collected on the stem of one of the plants—it was, indeed, N. brunnea! My motivation now sky high, we continued to look at the plants while working our way west along the highway. At one point, the stand thinned out and confined itself to just along the 2-track, so Paul continued west and I turned around to re-examine the more extensive stand of plants. As it turned out, I should have been more patient and continued along with Paul, as he eventually found three more individuals while I found none. He offered to let me have one, but I was determined to see and collect the species for myself, so I returned to the area where he had seen them and eventually found it for myself. I found three individuals—one crawling along the bottom of a low branch of the plant and two more sitting on the stem just below the lowest branch point (the latter also dropping as soon as I saw them but, fortunately, seen on and recovered from the ground). Paul was happy that I’d succeeded (not only was it my target for the site, but it also meant that he didn’t have to give me one of his specimens!). It may have taken well over two hours for me to find the first individual, but the time spent searching up to that point was not fruitless—also present and blooming at the site was Sphaeralcea ambigua, and on its flowers I found occasional individuals of the three species of Acmaeodera I’d collected at the previous spot (A. navajo, A. pubiventris lanata, and A. immaculata). Also present on the Sphaeralcea were a few individuals of Amannus sp. (pectoralis or vittiger), neither of which I’ve ever collected before. In this regard, I was able to repay Paul the favor, as he had not seen this species while we were there. I offered to give him one of mine for another specimen of Nanularia, a deal he readily accepted! A small series of my target for this spot now in the bottle, we set our sites on the next location and next target species.
Amannus sp. (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea ambigua (apricot globemallow).
Kitchen Corral Wash Rd Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument Kane County, Utah Another target species for the trip is Chrysobothris nelsoni, a species associated with Eriogonum and described from various localities in southern Utah but mostly near the Coral Pink Sand Dune system near Kanab. We plan to visit that area eventually, but part of the type series was collected at this spot, which was not too far out of the way as we continued west, and given the success we’ve already had today and that we still had a good amount of daylight left before reaching Kanab, I decided to give the area a look. It was a long drive over sometimes rough, sometimes sandy roads to reach the location, but the scenery of carved canyons was just spectacular!
Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.
The pinyon/juniper woodland had some small “dune-ish” areas of sand within it, but I didn’t encounter any Eriogonum plants or any of the more extensive sand areas that I expected would be needed to support stands of the plant. As I searched the area, I didn’t encounter many flowering plants, but I did see a couple of Opuntia aurea in bloom (yellow form) and collected Trichodes ornatus and a few of the hoards of nitidulids that congregate in the flowers of plants this genus, and I also found a single Acmaeodera diffusa on the flower of a lone blooming Sphaeralcea parvifolia plant. Beating was only somewhat more productive—just one Dichelonyx sp. and a curculionoid were found while beating the branches of living Pinus edulis; however, I did find a few Chrysobothris spp. on a dead P. edulis—two smaller ones that may be C. cuprascens beating one of the branches and a larger one of the “sculptured group” on the trunk itself. Ever on the lookout for Buprestis pinyoni, I spotted a largish P. edulis cadaver with Buprestis-sized emergence holes in one of the remaining large branches and began chopping into the branch in hopes of finding a Buprestis cadaver. I didn’t find an intact cadaver, but I did find a single Buprestis sp. elytron fragment in the branch and collected it hoping I will be able to determine the species. Mike found a variety of bees, but he was most excited about a pollen-collecting wasp in the genus Pseudomasaris that he had collected from the flowers of Lupinus sp. I remembered this as I later walked by the plant and saw a large wasp fly from it out of the corner of my eye, instinctively swinging my net and remarkably capturing another individual that Mike was happy to have.
Vanessa sp. (family Nymphalidae) on Sphaeralcea sp.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While the small dune areas did not produce C. nelsoni or the Eriogonum plants they feed on, we did find a couple of nice large Eleodes beetles, one E. obscura sulcipennis and one E. caudifera, crawling across the sand.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive back out through the canyon was just as spectacular as the drive in, but this time we had an added obstacle to contend with—an angry bovine! We came upon the big, black bull standing in the middle road, and he very clearly took our approaching vehicle as a challenge! We tried slowly moving to the far side of the road, but he moved as well to block us—tail twitching as he continued to stare us down! All we could do was wait until he got bored enough and slowly strolled off the road and into the brush, at which time we gunned it a bit going through in case he changed his mind and wished to resume the stand off!
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Mike and I had planned to camp in Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, but Paul mentioned a BLM (Burrau of Land Management) campground north of the state park that sounded like a much better option—not only was it less likely to be a crowded, RV parking lot, but we would be able to collect insects with no permit requirements. When we arrived at the campground, our expectations were not only met but greatly exceeded! It was a beautiful campground, with widely spaced sites located within a grove of large, stately ponderosa pines (hence the name).
Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Our campsite sign—note the tiger beetle!
After setting up camp and cooking dinner (steak!), I opted to gather firewood instead of setting up my lights as temperatures were already tumbling below the threshold for longhorned beetles. Paul, however, decided to set up his lights anyway (both ultraviolet and mercury vapor), and I’m glad he did—a nice number of Polyphylla uteana came to the lights, more than enough for both he and I to each collect a small series for our collections.
Sunset at our campsite.
Venus shines brightly in the western evening sky.
Day 9
Hancock Rd Kane County, Utah Sleeping temps were delicious last night, and the crisp air made made the morning coffee routine especially enjoyable. I had two targets for this general area—Chrysobothris nelsoni and Xylotrechus rameyi, both described recently from nearby localities by my friend and fellow coleopterophile Ron Alten. Ron had given me some locations and tips for finding the two species, and my plan for the day was to visit the various localities and hope that my combination of timing and experience would yield success. This was the first of the localities I had marked for C. nelsoni, but from the start it didn’t feel “right”—pinyon/juniper woodland with little of the open sand that seemed needed for stands of Eriogonum host plants. Nevertheless, one never knows what else they might find as they explore an area, so we gave the area a good look. There was Sphaeralcea present, but all of it was past bloom and yielded no beetles. I also found some recently windthrown branches of juniper that I hoped might yield woodboring beetles, but again none were found. The only beetle I did find was a small tenebrionid walking in the sand. Fortunately, I was able to get ahold of Ron by phone, who advised me to go closer to the dunes—not in the state park, but in the BLM lands north of the park. I should have guessed this would be the case and thanked Ron for his help, then headed back to the west a few miles where we had seen the dunes approaching the highway.
Habitat along Hancock Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah The northernmost extent of the sand dunes cross the highway at this location, so we decided to stop here to see if we could find the Eriogonum host for Chrysobothris nelsoni—and find it we did (the host, not the beetle). In fact, not only was E. alatum, the recorded host for the species, abundant, but there were several other species of Eriogonum present as well. I spent quite a bit of time in the dunes searching the Eriogonum, focusing on E. alatum but also paying attention to the other species I was seeing (especially E. inflatum, a known host for other buprestids such as Nanularia brunnea), but no amount of searching turned up the beetle. I began to wonder if I was too late—most records of the species are from May and it was now the end of June. I also wondered if I had the proper search image—Ron had told me that the beetles would be on the basal leaves rather than up on the stems. Could they be underneath? I lifted the leaves on several plants as I looked, but this slowed things down considerably. After over an hour on the dunes without success I decided to check back in with the other guys and worked my way back to the roadside.
Sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
As I walked toward the car, I noticed Sphaeralcea parvifolia blooming abundantly along the roadside in a stretch of pinyon juniper woodland and collected a number of Acmaeodera diffusa on the flowers. Back at the vehicles, Mike was busy collecting bees from flowers in a small wet meadow surrounded by the dunes—I swept through the meadow thinking there may be sedges off which I might find Taphrocerus, but all I found was a single A. diffusa and a curculionoid. Mike had, however, found a single Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius in the nearby sand dunes; so I spent a bit of time searching the same in hopes of finding more. None were found, however—a few miscellaneous beetles being the only things I collected off the flowers. When I returned to the vehicles, I encountered Paul taking shelter under the shade of a large ponderosa pine at the edge of the dune—he also had had no success finding C. nelsoni, and our hopes of finding the species dimmed further.
Satyrium behrii (Behr’s hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium in sand dune habitat.
Before heading to potential localities for our next target, I wanted to stop at a roadside pull off along Hancock Rd that looked like it could be interesting—pinyon/juniper woodland at the edge of the dunes and bordering open sagebrush chaparral. I thought more insects might be out compared to this morning at the first stop. Unfortunately, the results were similar, with not much in bloom although I did find a few Acmaeodera diffusa and one Meloidae on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius—one of the few flowering plants we found in the area.
Undetermined blister beetle (family Meloidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in sand dune habitat.
5 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah Having failed in our attempt to find Chrysobothris nelsoni, we turned our attention to another target we had for the area, Xylotrechus rameyi—also described by Ron Alten with the type and paratypes taken at several nearby localities. This was one of them, and the grove of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) which the paratype series had been collected on amidst the pinyon/juniper stands dominating the area confirmed that we were at the right spot. I spent a fair bit of time beating the lower branches of the oaks—without success, and Paul also had no success beating the oaks on the other side of the small turn off from the highway. For awhile I turned my attention to the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fineleaf woollywhite) that were abundant in the area, collecting a few Acmaeodera diffusa from them, but eventually I turned my attention back to the oaks to give X. rameyi another shot by using the tropics net to better sample the higher branches that I hadn’t reached with the beating sheet. This yielded a single Agrilus sp. and a few other miscellaneous insects but still no X. rameyi. As I was sweeping the oaks with the tropics net, I encountered a pretty little pricklypear cactus in bloom that proved to be Opuntia aurea, off which I collected more A. diffusa. By now we’d been in the field all day and were feeling a bit exhausted, and failing to find either of our desired targets further decreased motivation, so we decided to make an ice run into town and take another shot at X. rameyi at the nearby type locality just outside of town.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
2 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah The type of Xylotrechus rameyi was reared from infested Acer negundo (boxelder maple) collected at this site, so we came here to look for boxelders that might be harboring adults of the species. Unfortunately, no boxelder trees were found anywhere in the area—in fact, the only trees of any kind that were seen was a few Populus fremontii (Fremont’s cottonwood). Failing to find any boxelder, I started looking for other flowering plants, but none were found except an isolated stand of Asclepias speciosa hosting a few large scoliid wasps, which I collected and gave to Mike. We decided to travel further down the river to try to see if boxelder occurred elsewhere but soon encountered a private property sign preventing further progress. By now it was getting late enough that we decided to head back to the campground to process the day’s catch and prepare dinner. It seemed the day would end without success on either of the day’s targets.
Habitat along Elephant Gap Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah When we got back to the campground, I looked at the dunes across the road and felt like I had to give Chrysobothris nelsoni one more shot. The season for it may have been late, but I reasoned that sooner or later I was bound to run into a straggler. If nothing else, I could cut into dead plants from the previous season in hopes of finding a reasonably intact cadaver from an adult that had failed to emerge this year.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Área—Kane Co., Utah.
As I was walking the dunes I collected a few bees on yellow form flowers of Opuntia aurea to give to Mike and continued looking (admittedly rather casually) at the Eriogonum alatum host plants dotting the dunes.
Scabrethia scabra (Badlands mule-ears) in sand dune habitat.
I’d been on the dunes for a while when suddenly the phone range—it was Ron Alten asking if I’d been successful in finding C. nelsoni after we’d talked in the morning. I confessed that I had not but took the moment to verify with him that I was looking at the correct host plant. He described it as a tall, single-stemmed, plant with a branching inflorescence and a basal rosette of elongated leaves. This increased my confidence that I was looking at the correct plants, and to confirm this I walked up to one of the plants to describe it to him. We had just begun discussing where on the plant the beetles occur when I looked at the basal rosette of leaves of the plant I’d walked up to, and there it was sitting right there—a bright metallic green beetle that clearly had to be C. nelsoni! I yelled out “I’ve got it!” and described it to Ron to assure him that I had, indeed, found the species, and then we marveled at the irony of finding my first individual at the very moment I was on the phone with the person who described it telling me how to find it!
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Success now in hand, I thanked Ron for his help and for checking back with me (I may have given up without finding the species had he not called me back) and continued my now much more deliberate search of other plants in the area. It would take another hour to find the second adult—again, sitting down on the basal rosette of leaves, but in the meantime I pulled several dead plants and found evidence of the larval workings in the crown of the plant.
Split plant view of damage by larvae of Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) in taproot of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
After finding the second individual, I reasoned that the setting sun made the prospect of finding additional individuals too low to warrant continuing the search and started heading back to the campground (anxious as heck to tell Paul and Mike the news!). Along the way, I found another Eleodes caudifera—apparently a male based on its highly elongated apical elytral projections—walking across sand.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) taken in sand dune habitat.
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Paul elected not to set up his lights at the campground, but rather bring them to the dunes across the road. The brightening moon and rapidly cooling evening temperatures, however, killed any desire I may have had to do the same. Instead, Mike and I chose to enjoy a few brews and dine on bratwurst cooked over an open flame while admiring the brightly moonlit western sky with its marvelous views of Venus and the Big Dipper. The next morning I found an Asemum sp. cerambycid dead on the floor inside my tent—apparently it had flown in the night before (perhaps following my flashlight) and then gotten stepped on.
The Big Dipper and the North Star a stand out in the night sky.
Day 10
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah Paul had planned to head back to Phoenix this morning while Mike and I headed further west. However, given my success late yesterday in finding Chrysobothris nelsoni still out we decided to spend a bit more time this morning to see if we could get some specimens for Paul and a few more for me. We broke down camp to give more time for temperatures to warm and the beetles to become active, then walked back over to the dunes across the road. After a quick tutorial session on what the plants look like and where the beetles could be found, we split up and checked plants in different areas of the dunes. It took an hour before I found the first adult of the day—sitting on the basal rosette of leaves just as both of the adults I encountered yesterday were doing. After another half-hour I saw an adult fly from a plant I was approaching, but I was able to chase it down and net it before it escaped. The last beetle I would see during the morning almost escaped as well, but I was able to secure it from its perch in the basal rosette of leaves. With three more specimens in hand, I decided that I had an acceptable series of adults and headed back to the campground, and when I got there Mike told me that Paul also had been successful (finding five individuals!) and had already left for Phoenix. Mission accomplished, we began what would be a mostly driving day to eventually reach Leeds Creek Canyon near St. George in far southwestern Utah.
Litaneutria sp. (ground mantis—family Mantidae) in sand dune.
Morsea sp. (monkey grasshoppers—family Eumastacidae) in sand dune.
Tradescantia occidentalis (prairie spiderwort, western—family Commelinaceae) in sand dune habitat.
The day was one of the most spectacular “transfer” days I’ve ever had on a collecting trip—our route took us right through the heart of Zion National Park! I knew of Zion’s reputation as one of Utah’s most stunning of national parks, but I really wasn’t prepared for just how stunning it is—massively expansive canyons etched in multicolored sandstone with jagged peaks and ridges. Every turn of the bend revealed a more spectacular vista then the previous, culminating in a precipitous drop down through the western canyon. Part of me wanted to stop at every turn and take a photograph, but I knew this would radically increase our travel time as I was constantly seeing sights more beautiful than the previous. I decided instead to wait until I came here again—as my wife and I have talked about—and do proper photography on a proper visit.
Leeds Canyon Washington County, Utah If leaving Zion felt like an end to the stunning vistas for the day, arriving at Leeds and making our way up the rough, rocky road into the canyon above was an unexpected surprise. Dry chaparral at the bottom gradually transitioned to pinyon/juniper woodland, with Gambel oak appearing at even higher elevations and eventually ponderosa pine forest once we surpassed 6000’ elevation. It was a Thursday before a holiday weekend, so we were a bit apprehensive about whether the campground at the top of the canyon would have any available spots and then pleasantly surprised to find it virtually empty with our choice of any spot. We chose one at the very back of the campground— well isolated from other sites, should they eventually become occupied, and with a stunning view through towering pines framing the canyon peaks towering above at heights of 10,000’.
View from our campsite at Oak Grove Campground—Leeds Canyon, Utah
The cool, moist air with low-hanging clouds belied recent rain and the likelihood of more on the way, but having been in the vehicle much of the day we were anxious to begin collecting and opted to explore rather than first setting up camp. I began by beat-sampling the living branches of the different trees around the campground but found nothing other than a few Elateridae on Pinus ponderosa, Quercus gambelii, and Cercocarpus ledifolius and a crabronid wasp inspecting holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa (maybe looking for potential nesting sites, or perhaps hunting?).
Trypoxylon sp. (family Crabronidae) inspects holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa for potential nesting sites.
We began hiking a trail off the west end of the campground, where we passed an enormous ponderosa pine—it’s crown damaged by lightning many years ago and a secondary leader taking its place, near which I encountered a pricklypear cactus with a couple of blooms of the brightest pink I’d ever seen. This proved to be the pink form Opuntia aurea (I’d seen the yellow form of this species yesterday near Coral Pink Sand Dunes), and nestled down in the flowers—apparently already a bedded down for the evening—was Acmaeodera diffusa.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
It was then that we felt the first raindrops, so we decided we’d better go back to the site and set up camp—lest we found ourselves doing it later in the rain, but as we hustled back the raindrops became larger and began falling with great intensity. Whipping winds soon accompanied the rain, making setting up the tent a real challenge, but we were able to setup the tent and bring our things inside—including our chairs for a place to hang out—before the heavy rain began. Curiously, the heavy rain never materialized, and quickly enough the winds as well subsided. As a bonus, the previous occupants had left some uncut bolts of mountain mahogany—completely dry and ready to burn if one was willing to cut them up. I did exactly that (it was some of the hardest wood I’ve ever encountered!), allowing us to enjoy yet another campfire on a cool mountain evening.
Mesmerizing campfire.
Day 11
We came to the canyon above Leeds based on the recommendation of Denanthony Fernandez. Denanthony and I have never met, but we’ve corresponded some and I know him to be an indefatigable collector of Buprestidae and Cerambycidae in the southwestern U.S. Denanthony was also kind enough to send GPS coordinates for some of the spots where he has collected within the canyon, ranging from pinyon/juniper woodland at the lower elevations to ponderosa pine and Gambel oak forest at the top. We decided to try the lower elevations first and then, depending on how successful we were, work our way up to the higher elevations. The first spot coincided with a creek crossing (it was gushing with water!) where we found a place to park and then started exploring. Immediately I found Acmaeodera bowditchi on the flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, but it was apparently an isolated plant and no other plants in bloom were found. I soon got distracted photographing a small lizard, while Mike started examining stands of a white-flowered shrub lining the roadway for bees. I began examining it as well, at first finding only several galerucine leaf beetles on its foliage.
Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Galerucine leaf beetle (family Chrysomelidae) on foliage of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Callophrys gryneus siva (Siva’s juniper hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually, however, Mike saw an Acmaeodera fly to one of its flowers, and when we started watching the plants more could be seen. We quickly realized that the plant was Eriodictyon angustifolium—the precise plant that Denanthony had mentioned as hosting a variety of Acmaeodera in the area. The beetles were sporadic at first and never really became abundant, but after some amount of time I had collected a decent series of what turned out to be A. angelica as well as one or two specimens each of A. bowditchi, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata on its flowers. While I was doing this, Mike wandered off and found a well-maintained little trail but reported only a single blooming pricklypear cactus off which he’d collected a few bees and a single A. diffusa. I decided to see if I could find it and bushwhacked in the direction he’d come from, encountering not one but several Opuntia woodsii with its salmon-colored flowers and collecting both A. diffusa and A. ligulata on them.
Opuntia woodsii (Woods’ pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
I decided to follow the trail to look for more pricklypear cactuses in bloom but had little luck. Beating was fruitless as I walked the trail, but eventually I saw a small creek from the trail (with the promise of plants in bloom) and found a spur in the trail that led me down to it. Creekside I found a few large patches of Psoralia tenuifolia actively visited by bees (collecting a few for Mike) but nothing else. However, in the other side of the creek (near an old historic kiln) I found several Heliomeris multiflora in bloom with A. bowditchi and bee on its flowers.
Historic kiln.
Heliomeris multiflora (showy goldeneye—family Asteraceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Frasera albomarginata (desert green gentian—family Gentianaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The spur ended at the kiln, but a foot trail continued through the woodland, which I followed hoping to find more plants in bloom. This resulted in limited success—I found single flowering individual of Cylindropuntia whipplei, off the flowers of which I collected a few A. quadrivittatoides, and Opuntia camanchica, off which I collected a single A. bowditchi (and a bee for Mike). At this point I decided we’d sampled this spot well enough and turned around to find Mike and head for the next spot up the road.
Cylindropuntia whipplei (whipple cholla—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Just one-half mile further up the canyon from the previous stop, we could already see the activity on the flowers of pricklypear cactus along the roadside as we drove up and parked. The first of such we approached was Opuntia woodsii, with its sumptuously salmon-colored blooms, and on this plant alone I collected several species of Acmaeodera including A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides from its flowers. Several blooming Opuntia camanchica—its flowers brighter yellow with salmon-colored centers—were growing nearby and attracting Acmaeodera in droves, and over the next hour or so I collected good series of the same species I’d collected from O. woodsii.
Acmaeodera bowditchi, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually I tired of finding more of the same on these two species of pricklypear cactus flowers and began looking for other flowers that may be harboring Acmaeodera. They were few and far between, but I did find a couple of Penstemon palmeri still in bloom (most seemed well past), one of which had a single A. ligulata on its flower, and a small area with a few Psoralea tenuiflora in bloom produced but a single Acmaeodera sp. (I could not decide at the time if it represented the common A. rubronotata or a small individual of the localized target A. knowltoni). As I searched, a male Okanagana utahensis singing in a nearby Quercus turbinella caught my attention, and I was able to sneak up on it and locate it. I noticed another individual nearby—a female attracted to the call in presumed—and after photographing it managed to capture the male (but not the female).
Okanagana sp. poss. utahensis (sagebrush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing in pinyon/juniper woodland.
By now I’d had enough of pricklypear cactus Acmaeodera, and Mike and I decided we had enough time in the day to try one more lower elevation spot—this one another mile or so up the canyon road.
We noticed oaks had become more abundant amongst the pinyons and junipers as we found a place to pull off the road, and almost immediately after getting out of the vehicle I noticed Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming much more abundantly along the road than the more spent-looking plants at the first stop that morning. Even before I had gotten ready, I saw an Acmaeodera ligulata and an A. pubiventris lanata on flowers of the plant closest to me—I managed to capture the former, but the latter eluded me (and of course I never saw another at that stop!), and I eventually collected good series of A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also collected a few non-buprestid beetles on the E. angustifolium flowers, including a red/black Saxinus sp. and a red/black Trichodes ornatus. Penstemon palmeri was in better bloom here, and I collected one Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers and a single Elateridae on Artimisia sp. (sagebrush). A bit further up the road Mike had found an even more robust stand of E. angustifolium in peak flower, from which I collected additional specimens of Acmaeodera angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also noticed more of the red/black Trichodes ornatus (red/black) and then realized that the several other beetle species on the flowers all seemed to be following a red/black coloration theme. These included Collops sp., Lycidae, and Coccinellidae (the latter which I did not collect).
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) female in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) on flowers of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Once we’d collected our fill, I got out the tropics net and spent some time sweeping the canopy of the Gambel oaks (common here but not further down the canyon), but I found no beetles and little else of interest. Beyond the trees, however, we found an east access to Leeds Creek, it’s course swollen with gushing water. We had been in the field all day and were quite hot, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to clean off and refresh myself in the clear mountain water. The rocky creek-bed and rapid current made securing footing (with bare feet) difficult, so proper handholds became paramount, and the frigid temperatures limited the time I could keep any part of my body submerged, but the refreshment and invigoration made it well worth the effort. What a fantastic way to wind down the day of collecting!
When we returned to the campground, we saw that every other site had become occupied (it was now Friday before a holiday weekend), and we thanked our lucky stars that we’d gotten here when we did and were able to claim such a choice spot! There was a fair bit of daylight remaining, so before starting dinner and settling down for the evening I wanted to return to the flowering Opuntia aurea that we’d found yesterday and check it again for Acmaeodera. I found the plant, but the flowers were now spent and nearly closed—their vivid pink now dulled and browned. However, I pried apart the petals and found, nevertheless, a couple of A. diffusa bedded down within the flower. I searched a bit more but did not find other cactus in bloom, so I returned to the campsite where Mike and I processed our day’s catch while we still had daylight.
The ”Bee Tree,” a 550 year-old ponderosa pine that has survived several forest fires and lightning strikes, one of which destroyed its crown—Oak Grove Campground.
Later in the evening as we were sitting by the campfire (still utilizing the super-hard mountain mahogany I’d cut up the day before), I saw a cerambycid beetle crawling on the ground towards the campfire. This proved to be Arhopalus productus, and over the next half-hour or so I found three additional individuals apparently attracted to the fire. As a final collecting act for the day, I decided to “walk the road” before going to be to see what beetles I might find walking nocturnally. I photographed a few interesting non-beetles, and near the furthest point before turning around I found a species of Zopherus that I take to be Z. uteanus.On the way back to the campsite, I checked the trunk of a massive, standing, recently-dead Pinus ponderosa in a nearby campsite. I had checked the tree several times during the day expecting to but not seeing woodboring beetles on it; however, this time I found another A. productus plus a few individuals of two species of Trogossitidae.
Ammopelmatus sp. (Jerusalem cricket—family Stenopelmatidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest. (I don’t find any known species with ranges extending into this area.)
Sclerosomatid harvestman (order Opiliones) feeding on tenebrionid beetle carcass in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Zopherusuteanus (family Zopheridae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
Day 12
Yesterday we checked several lower elevation spots in the canyon, so today we wanted to try the higher elevations. I still wasn’t sure I’d collected Acmaeodera knowltoni, thinking that specimens I’d collected at the lower elevations that could be small individuals of this species might actually be A. rubronotata instead, and guidance from Denanthony indicated that the species was not only more abundant but also the individuals larger (and this easier to distinguish from A. rubronotata) higher up in the canyon. Before going down to the highest of the spots recommended by Denanthony, we stoppped at a spot even further up in the canyon where profuse blooms of Penstemon palmeri could be seen blooming abundantly along the roadside (good for bees). This contrasted markedly with the paltry, sparse blooms we’d seen in the pinyon/juniper woodland at lower elevations, and we reasoned other plant species may also be blooming in greater abundance. Almost immediately getting out of the vehicle I found a new-for-the-locality flowering plant—Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch)—with several Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Right next to it was a single Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia in bloom with more of the same, but I hit the jackpot when I walked up the road a ways and found a rather large patch of these plants blooming abundantly and upon the flowers of which I collected numbers of not only A. bowditchi and A. diffusa, but also both A. knowltoni and A. rubronotata—the latter two easily distinguishable from each other not only by the larger size of A. knowltoni but also its uniformly orange rather than yellow elytral flecks with red towards the apices.
Acmaeodera knowltoni (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Acmaeodera knowltoni was also found along with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and Trichodes ornatus (red/black) on the flowers of Penstemon palmeri along the roadside leading up the road, and at the start of a trail leading off a nearby parking area I found the pink form of Opuntia aurea with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni on its flowers.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Penstemon palmeri (Palmer’s penstemon) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
A second species of Penstemon (P. linarioides) was common along the trail, which I checked it thoroughly for the presence of Acmaeodera, but the only beetles I found associated with its dark purple flowers was Trichodes ornatus. A small clump of A. wrightii was also found in this area, and in this case so found not only A. diffusa on its flowers but also A. knowltoni. The impressive numbers of Acmaeodera collected during the morning hours at this spot had me wondering what we would find at the next spot!
Penstemon linarioides (toadflax penstemon—family Plantaginaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland—flower.
A bit further down the canyon the Gambel oak woodland transitioned to scrub oak (Quercus turbinella) woodland with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming along the roadside.
Gambel’s oak woodland—Leeds Canyon, Utah.
Right beside the vehicle were some robust blooming Penstemon palmeri with Acmaeodera angelica and A. knowltoni on its flowers, and in the nearest stand of E. angustifolium I collected several more A. angelica, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni. I’d noticed even better stands of E. angustifolium a bit further down the road and walked to them—finding a bee for Mike on the flower of Diateria sp. (tansyaster) along the way, and then proceeded to collect nice series of the same plus not only A. bowditchi on the flowers but also a few specimens of A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides (these latter two the first I’d seen today).
Cucullia dorsalis (family Noctuidae) larva feeding on inflorescence of Dieteria sp. along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
After thoroughly examining the patches I’d seen, I walked back up to the vehicle to see how Mike had done, and he gave me a small Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. that he’d collected on the flower of Eremogone macradenia. He had seen the plant in only one spot a bit further up the road, so I walked up to the spot to see if I could find any more. I did not, but I did collect a couple of A. bowditchi on the flowers. By now I was famished and thirsty and felt I’d given the spot a good enough look, so I ate a bite of lunch and downed a bottle of Powerade (ask me why I prefer this brand over Gatorade) before heading to the next spot further down the canyon.
Eremogone macradenia (Mojave sandwort—family Caryophyllaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
This was another of the spots that Mike and I had noticed as a possible stop in addition to those recommended by Denanthony. It was below the third stop up the canyon that we’d visited the day before but above the second, mostly pinyon/juniper spot and, thus, still contained a lot of scrub oak (Quercus turbinellum) with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium along the road. We had to park down the canyon a bit to fully get off the road and then hiked back up to where we’d seen the stands. Along the way I found a single Opuntia camanchica in good bloom with several Acmaeodera visiting the flowers. These included A. bowditchi (of which I only took a few for the record given the number I collected on this cactus species the day before) but also A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides which were more interesting records for the cactus. Despite their robustness and profuse blooms, the E. angustifolium stands that prompted us to stop here produced very few Acmaeodera (or even bees, for that matter), but when I hiked further up the canyon I encountered some smaller stands in sparser bloom that produced at least a few individuals of nearly every other species of Acmaeodera that we had found in the canyon (A. angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. knowltoni, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata). As we’d approached the spot from above, I’d also noticed several stands of Heliomeris multiflora along the roadside as well, so I hiked up to them and was rewarded with A. ligulata on the flowers along with A. bowditchi and A. diffusa.
Acmaeodera angelica (family Buprestidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Having visited all of the spots up and down the canyon that Denanthony had recommended (except the area right around the campground, which we would explore the next day) and then some, we decided to go back to the first stop we made the day before—the lowest elevation spot in the canyon where we had collected—to see how it compared in the (now) late afternoon compared to mid- to late morning. It was hot, and I needed to eat and rehydrate, so I found a shaded spot to do that while Mike forged ahead. As I was getting ready to walk to the spot myself, Mike came back with a specimen of Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides that he had taken in flight near the stand of Eriodictyon angustifolium from which we’d had such good luck collecting the previous day. I had not seen this species during that first visit but found a few additional individuals this time, and the same went for A. knowltoni and A. ligulata (in fact, a single individual of A. pubiventris lanata was the only repeat species this time).
Coming back up the canyon, we stopped again at the first spot where we collected so Mike could pick up “bowl traps” that he had set out. (Bowl traps are commonly used by apiologists to sample bees in an area. Small plastic bowls, generally white, yellow, or blue in color, are filled with soapy water and placed on the ground. Bees mistake the colored bowls for flowers and drop into the soapy water when trying to land on it. Incidentally, these have proven effective also for flower-visiting species of Acmaeodera—Mike has given me many that he has collected over the years in his bowl traps, and I have begun using the technique myself.) While backing into the pullout, the tire pressure warning light suddenly came on, and I got out to see the left front tire hissing air and going flat. What ensued was a comedy of errors of epic proportions! We unloaded the back of the vehicle and got out the spare tire and jack, but we could not find a tire wrench anywhere in the vehicle. Mind you, the vehicle was purchased new last year, so it was unthinkable to me that it could have come without a tire iron! No problem, I thought—I’ll just call AAA. I had just enough cell service to make the call and endure the endless automated questions and call transfers before reaching a live person and submitting a service request. While I was waiting for service, I decided to walk back up to the spot where I’d had such good luck collecting A. knowltoni and other species in the genus on Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia to see how late afternoon collecting would compare (hang in there—the comedy of errors will ensue shortly). The S. grossulariifolia flowers were not open to the same degree as they were in the morning, but still the Acmaeodera were numerous on them and I added to my series of A. knowltoni (along with a few more A. bowditchi and A. diffusa for the record). As I walked back to the vehicle, a missed call notification came through on my phone. Apparently AAA had tried to contact me (unsuccessfully due to poor reception in the area I had walked to) and left a voicemail. When I called them back, they told me they couldn’t send a tow truck up an unpaved road. My explanation that I needed only a tire iron and not a tow truck fell on deaf ears, so when I hung up I told Mike there was nothing left to do but to walk up to the campground (thankfully less than a mile up the road) and see if I could bum a tire iron. As it turned out, I didn’t even have to walk all the way to the campground, as I encountered a family parked at the creek crossing below the campground. Dad rummaged through the back of his truck and produced a tire iron after I explained our predicament, and I was quickly on my way back to the vehicle. There was once positive from the walk—during the return leg, I was finally presented an opportunity to photograph a splendid individual of Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail)—a species that had eluded all my previous attempts to photograph it by refusing to even land anywhere, much less pose long enough to attempt a photograph!
Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flowers of Medicago sativa (alfalfa) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Returning to the vehicle, we were ready to change the tire and get the day back on track, but when I attempted to loosen the first lug the iron spun freely—it was too big! Who knew tire lugs came in different sizes? (Okay, maybe others know this, but it was news to me!) Just then a truck came by, so we waved him down and explained our predicament to the man driving and the several young men that he was clearly the boss of. It took them much more time to find it, but they finally produced a tire iron after some extensive rummaging through the truck’s tool chest. It looked to me exactly the first one I’d bummed, but I tried it anyway. Of course, the result was the same—it was too big! As Mike, the man, and his crew debated the next step, I got to thinking about how weird-looking the jack was that I’d pulled from my vehicle—it just didn’t make sense that a tire iron could have been mistakenly omitted from the spare tire compartment. I picked up the jack, looked it over carefully, and saw one part of it that had a lug socket-looking piece on it. I started fumbling with that part of the jack, and it suddenly detached from the jack proper—proving itself to be a custom-designed foldable tire iron! I felt like such an idiot, but I was so elated to have finally found the iron that I didn’t care. I showed the others what I’d found, and after a good laugh (either with me or at me, perhaps both) the man and his crew continued on their way and Mike and I proceeded to change the tire and get back on the road.
Mike assists with the tire change.
As a final collecting act (perhaps a momento for the flat tire fiasco), I found a tenebrionid beetle crawling on the road next to the vehicle while we changed the flat.
Safely back at the campground after our flat tire fiasco, we settled down to process the day’s (prodigious) catch. We again relished our choice site in the campground, with its stunning view and maximum privacy, and eventually prepared what had become our favorite dinner—“dirty burgers” (burgers cooked in a frying pan in which grease and drippings from previous days’ meals are allowed to accumulate).
“Dirty burgers” coll
Conditions still were not favorable for blacklighting (moon nearing full and coolish temps at such high elevation), so instead of setting up lights I waited for a bit after darkness fell and then wandered over to the giant recently-dead ponderosa pine in the neighboring campsite and checked it for beetles attracted to its trunk. Unlike the previous night, when only one longhorned beetle was found, this time I encountered multiple specimens of Arhopalus sp., Tetropium? sp., Trogosittidae, and Elateridae after repeated circuits around the giant tree trunk. Once no more beetles were found, I began walking the road up through and out of the campground. I was especially interested in seeing if I could find more of the Z. uteanus that I found the previous night and succeeded in finding three more (in almost the exact same place as the previous specimen) along with several tenebrionid beetles.
Coelocnemis punctata (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Eleodes (Blapylis) sp. (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
At the furthest point that I walked before turning back, towering ponderosa pines framed a stunning view of the moonlit canyon wall with the Big Dipper hanging perfectly over it—a perfect scene to capture using the iPhone’s night photography mode.
The Big Dipper shines above the canyon ridge.
Day 13
Our plan for the day was to leave the canyon and travel further west to a couple of localities (one near the border with Arizona, another just over it) where Ampheremus cylindricollis has been recorded to occur before at last starting back to the east and traveling to Jacobs Lake, Arizona. First, however, we couldn’t leave the canyon without giving a good look at the highest elevations in the canyon. We had seen wild rose (Rosa woodsii) in bloom just below the campground each of the past two mornings but no beetles upon them; however, the time needed to break down camp had us leaving the campground a bit later in the day with correspondingly higher temps.
Upper Leeds Creek.
When we reached the creek crossing where the roses were growing, we could see gobs of beetles in them even before we parked and got out of the vehicle! With the first tap of a flower over the net I got a couple of Acmaeodera knowltoni and nearly two dozen Anthaxia sp.! The latter were clearly members of the subgenus Haplanthaxia, meaning the species was A. caseyi—the only western U.S. species of the subgenus (as opposed to the subgenus Melanthaxia, of which there are many western U.S. species). However, several A. caseyi subspecies have been described, and it will require closer examination to determine which (if any) of the described subspecies this population pertains to. The buprestids were so abundant on the rose flowers that I quickly collected sufficient series of each and turned my attention to examining the beetles in the flowers carefully to look for any that represented other species. In the end, I found just one Acm. bowditchi, two Acm. diffusa, and a few Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. in addition to the dozens of A. knowltoni and hundreds (literally!) of A. caseyi seen (also a couple of Curculionidae).
Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (family Buprestidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Acmaeodera knowltoni and Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (both family Buprestidae) in flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Xylota flavitibia (family Syrphidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
After getting my fill of rose visitors, I set about to see what other beetles I might find in the area, which had experienced a burn in the past year or two (though not stand-killing). Nothing was found beating any of the dead branches, whether pine or oak, and the only beetles I found beating living trees was Curculio sp. on Quercus gambelii. Near a small tributary of the main creek I found Aquilegia formosa (western columbine) and Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower) in bloom, the latter with a few A. knowlton and A. caseyi on its flowers. The only other plant I could find in flower in the area was Erigeron flagellaris, and while I looked at many plants I found only a single A. knowltoni on one of its flowers. I’d hoped to find more on the dead wood (especially non-Acmaeodera, which were the preponderance of buprestids I collected in the canyon over the past few days), but I was happy to have added at least a couple of Anthaxia spp. and increased my series of (and recorded flower hosts for) A. knowltoni.
Aquilegia formosa (western columbine—family Ranunculaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower—family Phrymaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane—family Asteraceae) in recently burned (2 years?) ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
It was now near midday, so we decided we should find our way back to civilization and get the flat tire fixed so we could check the two westernmost localities and make it to the Jacobs Lake area by evening.
Santa Clara River Reserve Washington County, Utah After spending a couple hours of our afternoon in Hurricane, Utah (what a name!) getting yesterday’s flat tire fixed at a Walmart (what a cultural experience that was—imagine Appalachia meets Mexico with a touch of Salt Lake City!!), we drove a half-hour to a site in the extreme southwestern corner of the state to look for Ampheremus cylindricollis—a species I have not yet collected myself and which should be associated with Eriogonum inflatum. We had gradually dropped in elevation during the day (we were nearing the western edge of the Colorado Plateau), and by the time we reached the site we were under 3000’ — the lowest we have been at any time in this trip (including northwestern Oklahoma!). The drop in elevation meant an increase in temperature, and when we arrived the thermostat read 109°F (the second-highest temperature I’ve ever experienced while collecting [my PR is a blistering 115°F in the Glamis Dunes of southern California]). Despite the heat, I was anxious to start collecting because I could see stands of Eriogonum as we drove down the road towards the parking lot—except it was not E. inflatum but rather a smaller species that I determined to be E. deflexum (flatcrown buckwheat). Nevertheless, I began sweeping it and quickly found a tiny buprestid that I did not immediately recognize. Buoyed by this unexpected surprise, I swept more of the plants and quickly came up with two more specimens. With three now in hand, I couldn’t wait any longer to know what species it represented, so I checked my sources and determined it must be Anambodera nebulosa—perhaps an even better catch than A. cylindricollis because not only have I never collected it, but neither is it even represented in my collection by a specimen I’ve gotten from someone else. (I am also unsure whether the host plant has been recorded or if it has ever been collected in Utah.) At that point, I started sweeping every Eriogonum plant I could find (including a few E. inflatum, which I did find up the hill a ways) but persistently came up empty. It was not until I’d worked my way to the first parking area and swept the last stand of E. deflexum on that side of the road that I eventually found a fourth individual. Considering how much work it took to find them (and the extreme heat in which I was doing it), I gave only a half-hearted attempt to plants on the other side of the road as I walked back to the car (with predictably unsuccessful results). I also failed to find A. cylindricollis, but I had one more locality that I wanted to check so I remained optimistic.
Tukuoetsi Trailhead, Santa Clara River Reserve—Washington County, Utah
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area MojaveCounty, Arizona It took us another half hour to make it to Virgin River Canyon — a Bureau of Land Management Recreation Area just inside the northwestern-most corner of Arizona as one drops down from the Colorado Plateau into the Great Basin.
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area—Mojave County, Arizona
This was the other spot I had where I might be able to collect Ampheremus cylindricollis, and if we thought the last stop was hot, this one was extreme — a sweltering 112°F! Unfortunately, we drove throughout the area and did not see any stands of Eriogonum inflatum (the host plant for A. cylindricollis) — or any species of Eriogonum for that matter. Nevertheless, we got out our nets and began looking around, as there were other flowering plants present (Baileya and Hymenopappus). Nothing was seen in them at first (although Mike eventually found a true desert bee species on the lone still-flowering individual of the latter), so I took the short Canyon Scenic Overlook Trail to its terminus. I was glad I did, as there were some very informative interpretive signs about the geology of the area, but the overwhelming heat had me wilting quickly and I worked my way back to the car.
Looking down into the Great Basin.
Multicolored cliffs at the edge of the Colorado Plateau.
I’m not sure where in the area the host plant occurs, but it is not at this spot. With no other potential collecting localities identified in the area — and having reached the westernmost extent of the trip, we turned back towards the east and started heading for Jacobs Lake in the Kaibab Mountains of northern Arizona.
The beginning of our eastward return towards the Kaibab Plateau was uneventful, although we became increasingly concerned when a smoke plume appeared on the horizon and the closer we got to reaching our destination (Jacobs Lake Campground) the more it seemed that that was also the location of the fire. When we got up on top of the plateau, we discovered a vast swath of its northern portion had already been devastated in an obviously very hot (i.e., stand replacing) wildfire within the past couple of years, only increasing our fears about what we might find. Fortunately, the devastation ended some miles before we reach Jacobs Lake (and the smoke plum—a controlled burn, was still some miles beyond), but when we reached the campground we were sorely disappointed to find not a single spot available even on a Sunday night (though admittedly still a holiday weekend leading into July 4th). Our only choice was to turn around and head down off the plateau into the tiny town of Fredonia, where we found a room at an odd little complex of duplex units.
Grand Canyon Motel—Fredonia, Arizona.
Day 14
Our hopes of good coffee in the morning were dashed when the ‘Closed’ sign in the small bakery across the street remained in place, so we were forced to visit one of the two local gas stations where I unintentionally eavesdropped on a group of local Arizona Republicans that had claimed the available breakfast seating area (hiding the rips in my jeans as a result—it’s a weird story!) before driving back up onto the plateau and through the devastation to LeFevre Overlook.
Dinosaurs everywhere out west!
Le Fevre Overlook Kaibab National Forest CoconinoCounty, Arizona The pinyon/juniper woodland at this spot was not completely without impacts from the recent wildfires but did not exhibit the wholesale devastation seen further back. Immediately after starting out—not even 10 meters from the vehicle—I encountered a dead Pinus edulis with tantalizingly loose bark that said “peel me!” Peeling back the first slab gave an immediate payoff—an Arhopalus montanus that had taken shelter under the loose bark. I peeled back another piece and found another individual, and by the time I had peeled the entire trunk I had a nice series of a half-dozen specimens.
Arhopalusmontanus (family Cerambycidae) under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Peeling the bark revealed not only longhorned beetles but also Buprestis-sized emergence holes in the sapwood, one of which still contained a dead individual that had failed to emerge from the wood. I carefully chipped away at the surrounding wood until I was able to extract the cadaver—a nearly intact B. prospera—another target for the trip and now a new addition to my cabinet!
Buprestis prospera (family Buprestidae) intact carcass in emergence hole under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
As I worked I was approached by several tourists curious about what I was doing. I cheerfully fielded their questions and even showed the specimens to those interested, having long ago stopped seeing these as annoying interruptions but rather opportunities to present the science of entomology in a favorable light. I did not extend the same courtesy to a particular Arizona Republican, who pulled up in his large pickup (white, with giant tires of course) and got out packing an intentionally visible sidearm. I’m thinking “Who in the hell does this man think he’ll meet that he needs to be able to shoot them?” That’s some compensation if I ever saw it! I hoped he wouldn’t want to engage, but no such luck—when he asked me what I was doing, I just said “kinda busy” in an attempt to abort any further interaction. This worked, and I was relieved to not have to tell him more directly not to approach me. I worked several other dead pinyon pines in the area the same way but was not able to replicate the success I’d had at that first tree, so I began beating the living trees in the area to see if adults of other woodboring species were out and about. Indeed they were, producing several individuals of one of a sculptured Chrysobothris sp., a small species of Acanthocinini, and a giant male Monochamus clamator.
Monochamus clamator (spotted pine sawyer—family Cerambycidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Across the road I spotted a recently wind-thrown branch of P. edulis, and crossing the road to reach it was worth the effort—I was able to collect a nice series of what I believe is Chrysobothris cuprascens (another species I’ve not collected previously) as well as a few specimens of the sculptured Chrysobothris sp. I’d collected earlier (I presume).
Demonstrating the “finger tap” method that is useful for collecting Chrysobothris spp. on dead branches.
Working my way to a large standing recently dead P. edulis nearby, I encountered and netted a small histerid beetle in flight, but on the trunk of the tree itself I found only a few Enoclerus sp. (perhaps E. lecontei) and no Buprestidae or Cerambycidae. I went back to the fallen branch to see if I could collect a few more C. cuprascens, which I did but also found one being preyed upon by an Enoclerus sp. and collected predator and prey together. Mike was having only moderate luck with bees (due to a dearth of plants in bloom), and since I’d gotten a good enough look at the area we decided to move further up the plateau.
We drove further south onto the higher elevations of the plateau, the scrubby pinyon/juniper woodlands being gradually replaced by forests of tall, stately ponderosa pine. Gone also were the devastating effects of recent wildfires, replaced by evidence of active fire management practices intended to minimize accumulation of wood fuel and controlled burns that leave their telltale black signatures at the base of the trees but do not kill them. The result of these efforts was a rich ground layer of ceanothus, lupine, and other shrubs and forbs in full bloom.
4 mi NW Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona I spotted a large, recently wind-thrown ponderosa pine as we drove, it’s faded gray-green suggesting it might be the right age to look for woodboring beetles running along its trunk and branches, and stopped the vehicle at the nearest pull-off. There was so much blooming ceanothus around that Mike barely had to walk before he started finding bees visiting the flowers. I searched them also for Buprestidae and Cerambycidae but found none, but my immediate objective was to hike back to the fallen tree I’d seen from the highway. Along the way I continued—for a while—to check the ceanothus flowers but eventually quit doing this when it was clear no beetles were utilizing them at this time, and the occasional small dead tree and fallen branch also failed to produce any beetles running along them. At one point before reaching the fallen giant I encountered a huge, standing dead ponderosa pine with mostly intact but tantalizingly loose bark and promptly began peeling it. The bark was still semi-attached but easily peeled off in large chunks, occasionally revealing galleries packed with moist, fibrous frass that usually surrounded a large entrance hole into the sapwood. Eventually in one of these galleries I found a huge cerambycid larva that, based on size alone but also the presence of distinct legs I take to be Trichocnemis spiculatus—common in ponderosa pine in Arizona and one of only very few species with larvae of this size. I collected it in an attempt to rear to adulthood and did the same with another found under the bark of a nearby tree—others were later found boring into the slightly punky sapwood of the first tree.
Likely Trichocnemis spiculatus (spined woodborer—family Cerambycidae) larva under slightly loose bark on trunk of large, standing, recently dead Pinus ponderosa.
Eventually I reached the large, recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa that was the reason for the stop. The lower half of the massive trunk was propped up at eye level by the branches that snapped and impaled into the ground when it fell, making it easy to scan both its upper sunlit and lower shaded surfaces for any sign of movement. None was seen at first, but eventually tiny Enoclerus sp. (prob. lecontei) were seen running along the trunk. Continued searching scared up a Chalcophora angulicollis, which flew to and landed clumsily on the tree’s exposed root-wad, and several Chrysobothris sp. prob. dentipes were seen on the sunny surface but only one captured. The upper branches of the tree were no more productive—only a single Chrysobothris sp. (not C. dentipes) was found after thoroughly searching them.
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer—family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
I continue to peel bark on the way back to the car, finding only a dead Trogosittidae under loose bark on the lower trunk of a large dead Pinus ponderosa, and by the time I’d returned to the vehicle I was not overly impressed with the spot. Mike, however, was having tremendous success collecting bees, not only from the ceanothus but other flowers as well, so I decided to cross the highway and check out some standing dead pines that I could see from afar. As I started out, I noticed movement on a small, newly-fallen branch of P. ponderosa right next to me and saw that it was a Chrysobothris sp.—colllecting not only that one but another that flew to the branch while I was putting the first one in the bottle. As I crossed the road and walked towards the trees, I noticed another fallen giant ponderosa pine looking very much like the first one I’d seen from the highway and veered towards it. Immediately upon approach I saw the zippy movement and escape flight of a Chrysobothris, its identity belied by the green flash of its abdominal tergites as it took flight. Continued searching along its trunk produced not only C. dentipes but also several Phaenops gentilis.
Phaenops gentilis (family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Nothing was seen on the lower portions of the branches, but beating the upper needled portions produced many Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei) and what I at first took to be a very small species of Oedemeridae. Something about them, however, gave me pause, and I got out the lens to take a closer look at them. I’m glad I did, because they turned out not to be ordemerids, but rather tiny cerambycids of the genus Phymatodes! I continued beating the branches to find more and eventually collected a nice series of them. Ironically, the standing dead trees that first caught my attention had nothing on them. By now, we were anxious to get to Jacob Lake Campground to see if, on a Monday, we could now claim a site. Only a few sites were available, most of them in undesirably exposed settings, but luck was with us when we found a large, nicely shaded site that was well-distanced from those surrounding it. We claimed the spot and then went back out to take advantage of what remained of the afternoon.
Driving south of Jacob Lake on Hwy 67 took us directly into the area subject to the controlled burn that had caused the smoke plume that concerned us the day before. Smoldering embers dotted the blackened understory, but the tall pines above, their foliage bright and green, belied the controlled nature of the burn. I wanted to get out and look for Melanophila spp., which are famously attracted to smoldering remnants of forest fires, but access to the public was closed for obvious safety reasons.
7 mi S Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona Clearing the burn area we encountered a more open forest that had clearly been ravaged by an uncontrolled fire within the last couple of years—perhaps the same one that had devastated so much of the northern edge of the plateau, but along the margins where the damage was less severe we saw stands of flowering trees that proved to be Robinia neomexicana. I expected to find Agrilus egenus on the living foliage, and that is what I found in numbers. There were a few large, standing, dead Pinus ponderosa—under the loose bark on the lower trunk of one I found a Trogosittidae and on the lower trunk of another I captured several Xylotes sp. flies that were clearly attracted to the tree.
Agrilus egenus (family Buprestidae) on foliage of living Robinia neomexicana in aspen grove in burned ponderosa pine forest.
Not much else was found of interest, so we decided to drive further south into even higher elevations. This eventually led out of the area of devastation into an area of high alpine meadows with interesting, ground-hugging species of flowering plants but little of interest in the way of insects.
High elevation alpine meadow.
Phlox austromontana (mountain phlox—family Polemoniaceae) in high elevation alpine meadow.
The afternoon by then passing into evening, we returned to the campground and spent a very comfortable night sleeping at altitude.
Day 15
A couple weeks ago I noticed Facebook posts by Joel Dubois, who had collected some nice species near Farmington. I thought the area might be a nice stopping point for collecting as we began to work our way back to St. Louis in earnest, and Joel was kind enough to send me location information for where he had collected. It would be a 5½-hour drive from our campsite at Jacob Lake, so instead of a leisurely morning enjoying our coffee, we broke camp early and were on the road by 8 am.
A relict from simpler days.
The drive down off the Kaibab Plateau and across northern Arizona was as spectacular as any we’ve seen during the trip, and we marveled at the myriad bizarre rock formations, multicolored canyon walls, and desolate volcanic ash landscapes. It was tempting to stop and explore along the way, but we kept our noses to the grindstone and reached the site by mid-afternoon.
Brown Springs Campground Glade Run Recreation Area San JuanCounty, New Mexico The place looked extremely dry and dusty, but we reserved judgment until we actually got out and sampled for a while (the lessons of experience). Sadly, our initial impression was confirmed, and almost nothing was seen on any plant other than a few tiny Dasytinae and bees on flowers of Stanleya pinnata (“Bees are everywhere.”—Mike Arduser). Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, we quickly ended our explorations and headed for the next spot.
“Bees are everywhere!”—Michael S. Arduser
Above Pump Canyon San Juan County, New Mexico I visited this canyon once many years ago with fellow beetle-enthusiast Paul Kaufman while he lived in Farmington. Paul collected some nice beetle species from the canyon while he lived here, so I scheduled it as one of our collecting localities for later in the trip as we worked our way back to St. Louis. It was only an hour drive from the previous spot, so we were a little concerned if it would prove to be as dry and lifeless as the previous spot. The presence, however, of pinyon pine and juniper as we worked our way up the canyon created some optimism, with the sighting of ponderosa pines near the top of the canyon being especially welcome.
Top of Pump Canyon.
Top of Pump Canyon.
The first thing I noticed starting out was a small stand of Eriogonum alatum—the same plant that serves as the host for Chrysobothris nelsoni in southwestern Utah! I thought it unlikely that I would find the species here as well, but of course I had to look at the plants anyway. As I did, I noticed two species of clytrine leaf beetles feeding on the inflorescences; one a large, chunky species and the other a much smaller one. I collected a few of each, but buprestids were what I was after and thus turned my attention to the two species of pine in the area—Pinus edulis on top of the mesa and P. ponderosa at its edge and down in the canyon. I’d beaten the branches of several dead P. edulis and chopped around the base of a large, standing dead P. ponderosa—both with no success, when I spotted another large, standing dead P. ponderosa across the road. As I approached it I noticed the metallic green of a Buprestis (Cypriacis) sp. partial carcass on the ground beneath it. It is probably B. aurulenta, but I can’t discount the possibility of it being B. prospera since pinyon pine also occurs in the area—a more specific identification will have to await close examination when I get home. The tree itself produced nothing, so I turned and saw a cut stump of Pinus edulis that was apparently half-live, half-dead when it died or was cut and that exhibited emergence holes of Buprestis on the barkless dead half. I began chipping away at the stump with my hatchet hoping to find an intact carcass of whatever species had made the emergence holes and quickly encountered one in an emergence hole that had not quite reached the exterior when it died. It looks to me like the image I’ve seen of Buprestis pinyoni and the host is right; if it is that species, it would be a really nice find as it was one of my (admittedly long-shot) targets for the trip!
Buprestis pinyoni? (family Buprestidae) cadaver cut from stump of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Finding the last two carcasses motivated me to continue looking for other evidence of the species, and I beat/chopped/peeled bark from a number of dead pines of both species but did not find any more individuals—either live or dead. I did, however, enjoy the spectacular views of the head of the canyon (essentially a sandstone box canyon). I found more Eriogonum on the other side of the canyon, on one of which was another of the smaller clytrine leaf beetle species, and I also collected two tiny bees in the flower of Penstemon sp. (blue) for Mike. Finally, when I returned to the car I noticed the characteristically “flagged” branch of a small Quercus gambelii that had been pruned by a cerambycid larva. I peered inside the hole at the cut end of the branch and saw the culprite inside, so I collected the branch and trimmed it to bring it back for rearing. By now it was getting into the evening hours and there seemed to be little other insect activity going on, so we made the one-hour drive to Navajo Lake State Park—keeping our fingers crossed that the holiday crush had subsided and that we would be able to find a nice campsite (preferably with shade!).
Cottonwood Campground Navajo Lake State Park San Juan County, New Mexico The campground as a whole was less than impressive—typical of state park campgrounds that look more like a suburban neighborhood than remote wilderness. It was nearly full, but a few spots remained at the back of the area. Remarkably, these were some of the most delightful spots in the entire campground—ensconced within a grove of large cottonwood trees and well isolated from the cluster of RVs and giant pickup trucks (mostly white, with giant wheels of course) populating the bulk of the campground. After setting up camp and cooking “dirty burgers” for dinner, I walked the campground loop to look for beetles crawling on the road and attracted to the lights at the restrooms. There was not much at the lights, only one sculptured tenebrionid and one nondescript elaterid (along with numbers of a small melolinthine, which I did not collect); and I found two Tenebrionidae walking the road near the restroom and our campsite. [Edit: the “sculptured tenebrionid” turned out to be a great find—Trogloderus verpus, described recently by Andrew Johnston.] Tomorrow will be another driving day, with about six hours to go before reaching our next destination—Mills Canyon in northeastern New Mexico.
Trogloderus verpus (family Tenebrionidae) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland. This species was described in 2019 by Andrew Johnston.
Armadillidium vulgare (common pill woodlouse—order Isopoda) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland.
Day 16
The drive from Navajo Lake to Mills Canyon was by any definition the most memorable of the trip. It was a study of contrasts, from remote mountain forests and barren high plains to dramatic canyon descents that dumped us out rather abruptly onto the western reaches of the vast Great Plains. There was also drama—some of it self-made and some of it thrust upon us. Leaving Navajo Lake State Park, we were a bit concerned to find no open gas stations in nearby Navajo City, and with no cell service anywhere in the area we had to rely on an old road atlas to plan our route. A wrong turn before we figured this out didn’t help, but the gauge still indicated we had sufficient fuel to make it to a “town” about halfway to Dulce with plenty to spare. Getting onto Hwy 64, we quickly came upon a trio of vehicles led by an old pickup truck driving far below the speed limit and veering worrisomely from side to side on the winding, mountain road. Passing was impossible with the continuous double yellow lines, so we settled into fourth position and watched with increasing concern as the truck shortcut every leftward curve, blind or not and sometimes completely crossing the double yellow, and ran partially or completely off the right bank with every rightward curve of the road. Calling 911 was an impossibility with the complete lack of cell service, so we helplessly followed for mile after mile hoping and praying that we wouldn’t be forced to witness a most horrific head-on collision or tumbling rollover off the right bank. At various times the truck would speed up, seemingly without reason and often well exceeding the posted speed limit to disappear off in the distance, only to slow back down to well under the speed limit and reform the caravan of worried witnesses. To make matters worse, the “town” halfway to Dulce did not exist—we reached it to find only an arroyo and leaving us biting our lips whether we would reach Dulce—about 15 miles beyond the “zero” mark on my fuel gauge! The truck sped on ahead for much of the latter half of the drive to Dulce, allowing us to worry only about our fuel situation and devise action plans should we run out of fuel short of town and with no cell service, and when we hit the zero mark 15 miles from town the real sweating began. With about five miles to go, we quickly came upon the truck, once again driving at a snail’s pace and veering just as badly as ever from side to side. It did give us something else to worry about, but I was happy to drive slowly to maximize fuel efficiency, and the long final descent into town further helped in that regard. I was elated to make it into town but then horrified to see the truck make the same turns we were making and then slowly crawl into the first available service station—would I really run out of gas just short of the pump because of this guy?! Fortunately that did not happen, and I could only let out a sigh of relief as I was finally able to get out from behind the slowly crawling truck and zip up next to a pump. The truck ambled into the bay next to us, and we were anxious to see if the driver was somehow impaired or merely drunk! Much was explained as we watched the most elderly of men slowly exit the vehicle, oblivious to everything around him, and pop the hood of his truck. As we gassed up, a police vehicle pulled up in front of the truck, and the officer driving asked the elderly gentleman if everything was okay. I didn’t eavesdrop further, but when the officers appeared satisfied with their conversation and about to drive off, I discretely motioned for them to come over. I explained what we had seen for the past hour plus following the old man all the way from Navajo Lake, generating enough concern on the police officers’ part that they not only again made contact with the man but also called a backup unit. We did not get to see how things turned out—the officers told us we were free to leave, but hopefully they were able to reach a family member or friend that could come to the old man’s aid and get him off the road. I felt sorry for the old man, but at the same time we very probably prevented an accident that could have injured or even killed somebody, whether it be the old man himself or another motorist through no fault of their own. Freshly gassed up and all drama now over, we continued east. The village of Taos offered some entertainment—“green” housing developments west of town were a marked contrast to the ramshackle used bus/camper neighborhoods that preceded them, a gathering of artists’ kiosks at a rest stop just outside town offered a chance to view local talent (I couldn’t pass up the aspen burl carved to a sheep skull!), and the city of Taos itself merged adobe-themed architecture with artsy-fartsy flair.
Artists’ market outside of Taos, New Mexico.
The work of one artist—faces carved into wood burls—caught my interest.
We have a winner—sheep’s head made from an aspen burl.
The transition back into the Great Plains marked a dramatic change in scenery, and we watched entire thundercloud systems bloom at various points in the distance—one seemingly in the area of our destination. It passed over us just as we stopped to replenish groceries in nearby Springer, and I hoped against hope that we would not arrive late in the afternoon to a drenched landscape with insect activity already having ceased for the day. The rain held off as we got closer and closer, although a bull snake (Pituophis catenifer sayi) did defiantly hinder our path as we neared our destination.
Thunderstorms in the distance.
Pituophis catenifer sayi (bullsnake) crossing the road in shortgrass prairie (and not pleased with our trespass!).
When we arrived at the canyon we checked out the Rim Campground above the canyon and then the Canyon Campground down below. The road down the canyon was narrow and rocky but afforded some spectacular views of what essentially is the edge of a large break from the plateau above and the plains below. After looking around the canyon bottom (and seeing another bull snake that was even more cantankerous than the one we’d seen atop the plateau), we decided that the floral diversity above was more interesting and, thus, would give better odds for insect collecting.
The Canadian River cuts deep into Mill Canyon.
Another ornery bullsnake!
Mill Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico By the time we reached the campground back on top of the canyon, thunderclouds had moved ominously close and repeated flashes of lightning followed closely by cracks of thunder forced us to sit in the car until the feeling of danger had passed. Once it did, we started exploring the immediate vicinity of the campsite, although the fresh rain—in my experience usually a killer of insect activity if it happens late in the afternoon, gave me little reason to be optimistic. I noticed an enticingly freshly dead Pinus edulis at the edge of our campsite, walked up to it, and whacked to one of its branches over my beating sheet. Off fell a fine Alaus lusciosus—a species I have not collected before, and closer inspection of the tree revealed not only several cicadas (Hadoa duryi) on its branches, but also a couple of Zopherus concolor on its trunk. (I would come back to this tree repeatedly over the rest of the evening and the next day!)
Alaus lusciosus (Texas eyed click beetle—family Elateridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Hadoa duryi (orange-and-black cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
As I was searching the tree, I saw a Buprestis sp. land on and run up the trunk of the tree before quickly taking flight to a nearby living tree. With this, I decided to start beating the various living trees around the campsite, trying the one I’d seen the Buprestis fly to (which yielding nothing) before moving to another nearby tree and seeing a fine B. consularis land on my sheet! This is another species I’ve not collected before [Edit: I now think it possible or even likely that the species is actually B. laeviventris], but despite continued beating I never got another one after that. (I suspect it may have been the same individual that I saw on the dead tree and that species was near the end of its activity period due to the lateness of the hour.)
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Beating other trees also was fruitless, the only thing of interest being a single clerid beetle beaten from a living branch of Quercus×undulata. Flowers seemed abundant around the campsite, but the only beetle I found on them was the quite pedestrian Batyle ignicollis on Ratibida tagetes. It seemed clear that the combination of rain and a sinking sun had put an end to much of the insect activity in the area. With that, we set up camp and then kicked back for a bit before cooking dinner.
Gorgeous colors announce the setting sun.
Eastern skies still ominous and threatening!
Despite the prior rain, I was strongly considering setting up the lights—the temperatures seemed like they were not cooling off too much, and the continued threat of storms from surrounding cloud systems combined with a finally-past-full moon created a situation that I’ve often found is conducive to bringing insects to the lights.
Mercury-vapor and ultraviolet lights humming as an unsettled evening descends into darkness.
In addition to setting up the lights (both mercury-vapor and ultraviolet), I also got out the prionic acid lure (that Paul had given me) and placed it on the table at dusk. Almost immediately, a large male Prionus californicus came flying into the campsite, landed near the lure, and crawled about frantically while erratically waving its antennae trying to locate what it thought was a calling female. Several more males flew into the campsite over the next half-hour before darkness fell completely and I put the lure away.
Prionus californicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure at dusk in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
By now the lights had caused a fair gathering of insects to amass on the sheet, but other than a rather abundant small melolonthine scarab they were almost all moths—temps were not quite high enough to “bring the beetles.” There were two exceptions—one minor (another male P. californicus), and one major (a male P. emarginatus, first time collecting the species for me!).
Prionus emarginatus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to UV/MV lights in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Oh, and remember that dead P. edulis in the campsite? I not only collected several more Z. concolor from its trunks and branches after dark but also a nice series of Eutrichillus neomexicanus. Considering how un-optimistic I was regarding our collecting prospects for the spot after arriving so late in the day—and after rain at that, it was an incredible stretch of good collecting for the spot!
Automeris zephyria (zephyr eyed silkmoth—family Saturniidae) at mercury vapor/ultraviolet light in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Day 17
Our original plan after arriving yesterday had been to see how collecting was in the area and then make a decision whether to remain (if the collecting was good) or travel further east into the Texas panhandle) to one of several state parks that had caught my interest. The collecting we experienced yesterday—obviously—warranted continued collecting for at least another day, so rather than tearing down camp to get back on the road we were able to leisurely enjoy our morning coffee before striking out. My first target was the dead P. edulis right in our campsite that had produced so many interesting insects yesterday. Inspection of its trunk and branches revealed more of the cicadas (Hadoa duryi) that were abundant in the area, a few of which I collected, and beating its branches produced yet another series of E. neomexicanus.
Eutrichillus neomexicanus (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
I would return to this tree repeatedly during the day hoping to see more Buprestis consularis/laeviventris, and in the late afternoon I finally got my wish as several individuals visited the tree and searched along its trunk.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
In the meantime, I began searching other campsites in the campground to see if I could find other P. edulis at the right stage of “deadness.” None were found, but I did find an old dead P. edulis stump that exhibited Buprestis-sized emergence holes and from which I chopped the remnants (prothorax and elytra) of an adult B. consularis that had failed to emerge. The first flower-visiting insects of the day were found when I wandered over to a small water tank with lush vegetation around its margins. Acmaeodera sp. nr. mixta/immaculata, and a chrysomelid beetle were taken on a flower of Engelmannia peristenia, and Paranapiacaba tricincta (in outbreak numbers) and several melyrid beetles were swept from vegetation near Cucurbita foetidissima in full bloom.
Burnsius communis (common checkered skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower of Engelmannia persistencia in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Even more beetles were collected on the other side of the pond, where flowers of Ratibida columnifera produced more of the same Acmaeodera along with Batyle ignicollis, B. suturalis, a single Typocerus confluens, and several melyrid beetles, bees, and wasps. Another B. ignicollis was also collected on the flower of Hymenopappus tenuifolius.
Typocerus confluens (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Pterocheilusquinquefasciatus (family Vespidae) on flower of Ratibidacolumnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Perdita (Cockerellia) sp. (family Andrenidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Papilio multicaudata (two-tailed swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flower of Cirsium undulatum in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
After looking at most the flowers in the area, I notice tiger beetles running in a barren wet ditch running from the pond towards the road. Catching several of them revealed two species present: Cicindelidia punctulata (most exhibiting the green coloration of subspecies C. p. chihuahuae) and C. sedecimpunctata.
Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Cicindela sedecimpunctata (western red-bellied tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Just as I was finishing up with the tiger beetles, a huge beetle flew into the area. It was so large it sounded like a diesel engine in flight, and after getting a good glimpse at it I realized it was Prionus heroicus! I collected this species during my previous visit to this spot (some 10 years ago) using prionic acid lures to attract them, and I suspect in this case the beetle was attracted to residual prionic acid on my hands after handling the lure last night.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to prionic acid lure during the afternoon in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland. Prionuscalifornicus and P. emarginatus also occur at this site; however, they are active during dusk (former) or at night (latter).
The area outside the fence surrounding the campground (and subject to grazing) didn’t look too interesting, so I walked through the campground back to our campsite to try my luck in a large grassland area south of the campground but still inside the fence line. Along the way I saw a “flagged” dying branch that had been broken (perhaps by a camper) and was hanging off a living P. edulis—beating it produced a fine Monochamus clamator and several Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei), and right at the edge of our campsite I noticed a few small blooming Sphaeralcea coccinea and collected Acmaeodera sp. mixta/immaculata, Agrilus sp., Enoclerus sp., and clytrine leaf beetles off their flowers. In the grassland area itself, I found several patches of Engelmannia peristenia in flower and collected several more of the Acmaeodera off their flowers along with occasional curculionoid weevils, meloids, and mordellids (the former for Bob Anderson, the second for Jeff Huether, and the latter for Enrique Ruzzier). As I searched the grassland, P. heroicus males continued to approach me in flight, and I captured also an Ospriocerus sp. robber fly. Other flowers were also encountered in different areas: the flowers of Thelesperma megapotamicum produced more Acmaeodera, and those of Ratibida columnifera produced the same along with a few mordellids and bees for Enrique and Mike. Mike had spent much of the past few hours in a sandstone barren on the west side of the campground, so I wandered over reasoning that he must be having good success. He was, and alerted me to a few interesting plants that might be good beetle hosts. I saw one of these right away—Melampodium leucanthum, flowers of which produced an interesting (and still unidentified) Acmaeodera earlier this spring in nearby Black Mesa, Oklahoma. Checking them produced not only the same Acmaeodera that I was collecting off the other other flowers, but also A. ligulata(?) (if it is that species, it must be a northeastern extension to its known range in southern New Mexico and Arizona). More A. ligulata(?) were collected on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis as well as Opuntia polyacantha along with Euphoria kernii and Enoclerus sp. I normally never see Acmaeodera in flowers of cholla (Cylindropuntia), but in this case I did find one A. sp. mixta/immaculata on the flower of C. imbricata. Having thoroughly searched the sandstone barren and seeing all that it had to offer, I walked over to the canyon top to enjoy the scenery and see what insects I might find in the area.
Atop Mill Canyon.
There was not much going on florally; however, I encountered a half-dead P. edulis and beat a Phaenops piniedulis from on of its dead branches. This is another species that seems far northeast of its normal range, but I have previously collected this species even further northeast at Gloss Mountain State Park in northwestern Oklahoma (publication pending)! We had seen some flowers along the roadside leading down the canyon, so I walked the upper canyon road to see if if there was anything on them. There was not, but when I turned back I encountered another P. heroicus—this one was perched on the branch of a small Quercus×undulatus. I suppose it is possible that it was attracted to the prionic acid residue on my hands and landed there unnoticed, but I’m now beginning to think all this diurnal activity is normal and has nothing to do with the prionic acid lures I handled the night before. At one point along the road, I encountered a few oak trees that must be Q. grisea (gray oak), a species I am familiar with from west Texas and from which I have collected many buprestids. Beating the living branches did produce one buprestid—Agrilaxia sp. (perhaps A. texana), but dang it I missed it! Continued beating failed to produce more but did produce a very nice series of Alaus lusciosus and a Lichenophanes sp., and nearing the top of the canyon I was again buzzed by a couple of P. heroicus males. The last insect I encountered before calling it for the afternoon was a single Moneilema armatum that I found on Opuntia phaeacantha—I had been checking Opuntia all day looking for Moneilema, and finally I found one!
A sinking sun in upper Mill Canyon.
Later in the evening, after processing the day’s catch and cooking dinner, I elected not to set up the lights due to the now quite windy conditions. This was a bit disappointing, as I was hopeful I could catch more Prionus emarginatus to go along with the single individual I had collected the night before. Instead, I decided to check the dead P. edulis in our campsite as well as the half-dead one over by the canyon top to see what might be on them at night. Only E. neomexicanus was found on the branches of the tree in our campsite, but no more Zopherus concolor (several of which I’d found on the tree the night before) were found. On the half-dead tree, however, I did find a couple of Z. concolor along with E. neomexicanus on its branches.
Sunset at Mill Rim Campground.
Venus shines brightly in the western sky.
Day 18
The next morning, Mike gave me a few beetles that he’d collected the day before—these included one A. ligulata(?) and one A. sp. mixta/immaculata that he’d collected on the flower of Xanthisma spinulosum and a couple of clytrine leaf beetles that he’d on the stem of Eriogonum tenellum. After we broke camp, I cut up a portion of the standing dead P. edulis in our campsite on which I had found Buprestis consularis and so many other beetles, taking home three bolts of the trunk (2–4” diameter) and five bolts of the main branches (1–2”) for rearing. (As I bundled up the wood, I could actually hear Monochamus larvae munching on the wood inside thetrunk.) There was much more wood left from the tree that I could’ve taken home, but there simply wasn’t enough room so I had to leave it. I hated the thought of the next campers coming to this campground, occupying this site, and finding the leftover wood… then burning it! I also hated the idea of leaving this place, since the insect collecting had been so fantastic. We were, however, nearing the final days of the trip, and if nothing else I wanted to see Copper Breaks State Park in Texas as a potential locality for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle).
It was another 6-hour driving day as we continued on our way back east towards what would prove to be the final collecting locality of the trip. Driving south through northeastern New Mexico was just as interesting (in a desolate sort of way) as the areas we’d already gone through, but as soon as we reached I-10 East and entered Texas, the landscape became a monotonous expanse of unbroken plains, with little other than seemingly endless windmill farms to provide fodder for conversation until we reached the city of Amarillo—apparently nothing more than a long strip along the highway populated by chain business in strip malls. Past Amarillo, our route (mercifully!) took us off the interstate onto equally monotonous roads until we neared our destination and began seeing “breaks” in the landscape. As we neared our the park we were greeted by juniper woodlands on a broken, undulating landscape that contrasted dramatically with the featureless scenery that led us there. It was almost as if we were at the edge of another plateau, like at Mill Canyon—albeit on a much smaller scale, giving me some optimism about our prospects for finding interesting insects.
Copper Breaks State Park HardemanCounty, Texas We arrived at the park just after the headquarters had closed and followed the road down into a riparian corridor to Kiowa Campground, where we found the perfect spot in a completely deserted campground. Getting out of the vehicle was like entering a sauna—gone was the cool, dry mountain air to which we had become accustomed over the past two weeks, replaced by thick, humid, warm air that saturated everything. At the same time, I was greeted by the sound of one of my favorite insects—Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada) males singing on trunks/branches of a grove of Sapindus drummondii near our campsite! I first encountered this Texas/Oklahoma specialty in the White River Hills of extreme southwestern Missouri back in the early 1980s, its sumptuous lime-green coloration and male song sounding like a chainsaw quickly elevating it to iconic status. Despite visiting the White River Hills frequently, I’ve only been there a few times during the right season to hear their distinctive song filling the air, so hearing and seeing them so abundantly in this location was, for me, a nice start.
Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) in riparian open woodland.
Exuvia, presumably belonging to Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada), which were the only dog-day cicadas singing in the area. The exuvia is fresh, and all adults seen look freshly emerged.
As dusk settled, I started setting up the lights hoping the warm, humid air and now moonless sky would result in some awesome insect collecting. A pesky storm system to the west, however, was drawing ever closer, and when winds started whipping I knew it was a lost cause and rushed to disassemble everything before the rain hit. It only rained a little bit, but it was enough to kill the blacklighting(!), and once the worst had passed I went over to the nearby restrooms to see if their incandescent building lights had attracted anything of interest. I picked up a few Canthon sp., elaterids, and carabids from under the lights and photographed a very large and impressive Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider) on the cement-block wall, then turned my attention to checking tree trunks and finding only a few tenebrionid and clerid beetles on them before turning in for the night.
Centruroides vittatus (striped bark scorpion—family Buthidae) preying on a cockroach nocturnally on a tree trunk in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Day 19
Our plan for today was simple—see if the insect collecting was good enough to warrant spending the day here, or if it was not make an early call to abort and head towards the Wichita Mountains in Oklahoma to complete the last day of insect collecting for the trip. It mattered not much to me in terms of driving back to St. Louis the next day—the 10-hour drive it would be from here was reasonable, so it really depended upon how the morning collecting went. I went with Mike to a breaks area just across the road from the campground where he wanted to set out bowl traps and explored the area. I was on the lookout for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle), which has not been seen in Texas since the 1930s near Wichita Falls—Dan Duran and I regarded this area to be the best possible refuge for them in the state, at least based on Google Earth photos. I was also in the lookout for any flowers that might attract beetles. In regards to the former, I became less optimistic about finding the tiger beetle here after seeing the habitat in person—it had the same gypsum-capped clay substrate where I’ve seen the tiger beetle further north in Oklahoma, but the gypsum was much more “broken” and eroded and lacked the large expanses of level ground that the beetles seem to need. In regards to the latter, the only blooming plants that I saw, at least with potential for beetles on them, was Helianthus annuus, from which I collected a few Batyle suturalis (and a few bees for Mike). I also found on the foliage of the plant an adult female Neobarrettia spinosa (red-eyed devil)—one of the most terrifyingly impressive (and appropriately named) katydids you’ll ever see! Not much else seemed to be going on in the area, and I had noticed many of the hackberries (Celtis reticulata) in the campground area were half-dead and bearing visible damage to their trunks and branches caused by longhorned beetles. I approached several of them, at first finding nothing on their trunks but eventually scaring up a couple of Chrysobothris sp. (prob. C. caddo) on thr lower trunk of one of the dying ones [2023-69b]. I continued around the outer campground area checking other dead/dying hackberries along the way and eventually happened along a few patches of Grindelia ciliata hosting small treehoppers (Vanduzea segmentata) in the upper stem leaf axils of the plants and being tended by even tinier ants. I was not aware there were other species in the genus besides V. arquata (which I’ve seen commonly on their exclusive host, Robinia pseudoacacia [black locust]), so I collected a series of the treehoppers along with a few of their protector ants.
Vanduzea segmentata (family Membracidae) adults and nymphs tended by ants on Grindelia ciliata (Spanish gold) in roadside vegetation along dry creek.
After searching a few more hackberry trees (unsuccessfully), I came upon one that was half-dead with a dead major branch coming out of its trunk. Something about it said “chop me” (I think it was the interface between living and dead wood—often a good place for woodboring beetle larvae to develop), and I began chipping away at the dead wood hoping to encounter larval galleries. Shortly enough, I did encounter a decent-sized cerambycid larva in the wood—it seemed large enough to be mature, so I put it in a vial with some pieces of wood with a thought to try to rear it to adulthood. That became less important when I encountered a pupa of presumably the same species—I put that in a vial with wood dust as well, opining that I would have a better possibility of rearing an adult from a pupa than a larva. Continued chipping away at the wood finally revealed a teneral adult cerambycid in its pupal cell—easily identifiable as Eburia haldemani (another species I have never collected before). I would eventually chop a second adult from the wood as well and then collect the remaining piece of wood for in-host rearing.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) unemerged teneral adult exposed in pupal cell in dead trunk wood of half-live Celtis reticulata.
By this time it was heating up and I needed some water, so I went back to the campsite before heading down to the Juniper Ridge Nature Trail, which I reasoned may have the best potential habitat for finding C. celeripes (if the species did, indeed, occur here). Along the way, I passed a large stump of C. reticulata that looked about the right age for developing woodboring beetle larvae, so I began chipping at the wood hoping to encounter Texania fulleri, a handsome buprestid that I’ve encountered only once before (in the trunk of a large, dead hackberry outside of San Antonio). I did not encounter that species, but I did encounter two more teneral adult E. haldemani as well as a second pupa, which I placed into individual vials for hardening (the adults) and emergence (the pupa).
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (ventral) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (dorsal) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Reaching the nature trail, I started exploring the rugged, up-and-down “breaks” terrain looking for any sign of C. celeripes. Again, the more I looked, the less I believed that this was a good locality for the species due to the highly eroded nature of the substrate with no unbroken, level expanses.
A broken badlands of gullies, mesas, and juniper “breaks.”
“Ripples” in Permian red sandstone and mudstone laid down by a vast inland sea are evidence of ancient wave action.
I was, however, finding flowers in bloom, and on them beetles. The most abundantly blooming plants were Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy)—previously seen to be a good Acmaeodera flower, and over the next couple of hours traversing the trail and exploring it’s off-trail nooks and crannies I collected a very nice series of A. obtusa along with a few Trichodes bibalteatus and mordellid beetles (the latter for Enrique) off its flowers.
Acmaeodera obtusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy) in juniper woodland.
Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerve daisy), another good Acmaeodera host, was also blooming, though much less abundantly than M. leucanthum, and I collected a few A. obtusa on its flowers as well. As I traversed the circuitous route through juniper woodland, male cicadas sang in the juniper trees, but consistently went silent on my approach before screeching noisily as they bolted and flew to another, usually very far away tree! I tried three times to catch one before finally succeeding. The species turned out to be Diceroprocta texana, a species I have collected before in the Monahans Sandhills of west Texas.
Diceroprocta texana (family Cicadidae) male singing in juniper tree in juniper woodland.
I also became fixated on collecting two of the robber flies that I was seeing—the mydas fly-mimicking Ospriocerus abdominalis, and the giant Microstylum galacticum, eventually succeeding in catching a couple in flight. Near the end of the trail I found a dead Chrysobothris sp. dead on ground, presumably it is C. caddo. There were no host trees anywhere near—perhaps it was dropped by a Cerceris fumipennis wasp that had captured and paralyzed it? At the southmost part of the trail there was a large patch of Gaillardia pulchella, which I had not seen on other parts of the trail. There weren’t many insects visiting its flowers, but I did collect another A. obtusa off of it.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard—family Crotaphytidae) on gypsum/clay breaks in juniper woodland.
By this point, I was really hot and dehydrated—any further collecting would have to wait until after I went back to the campsite and rejuvenated myself! Even that would have to wait, as I found several interesting insects right as I entered the campsite, the first being a dead Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada) on the ground at base of a large Populus deltoides (cottonwood) beside our tent. At first I thought it was M. dorsatus (prairie cicada—with which I am familiar from my boyhood collecting days outside of Kansas City), but I quickly determined its true identity after consulting online sources as yet another species I have never collected before now.
Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada—family Cicadidae) found dead at base of a cottonwood tree in juniper/mesquite woodland.
As I was putting the cicada in a vial, I noticed the distinctive black/white of a female Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer) chewing on the exposed root of the same cottonwood tree—this was also photographed and then put in a vial.
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) chewing on exposed root of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
Finally, I noticed the a flash of metallic green at the base of the trunk of a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in our campsite, immediately recognizable as indicating the presence of the über-charismatic Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer) [2023-69o]. Even though I have seen this species many times (and trapped literally hundreds of them over the years from dolomite glades across southern Missouri), they were for many years before that my “white whale,” and I still never tire of seeing them.
Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on base of trunk of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in picnic area.
By now it was apparent that there was more than enough of interest here to justify further exploration, making the decision whether to stay or to go an easy one. After resting, rehydrating, and refueling, I went back over to the adjacent group picnic area where I had seen additional gum bumelia trees this morning. I found not only another individual but also a mating pair of P. suaveolens (one of the pair got away). Movement around a nearby grove of C. reticulata caught my attention, and I realized it was a large Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle) flying around one of the standing dead trunks in the grove. I made a beeline for the grove (at least as much a beeline that these old legs can make now), and somehow managed to net it, then monitored the trunk for a while and picked off a couple more C. caddo and a Chariessa pilosa (pilose checkered beetle) that landed on it.
Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) taken in flight around a standing dead Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
When I reached the dying C. reticulata that I’d collected two C. caddo on this morning, there were many more on it as well as on a nearby tree—allowing me to collect quite a nice series, as well as C. pilosa and Neoclytus mucronatus.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) male searching on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) female ovipositing on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Promachus hinei (family Asilidae) preying on Asterocampa celtis (hackberry emperor butterfly) in campground.
On the way back to the campground, Mike called my attention to another P. scalator that was in the act of ovipositing at the base of another large cottonwood in the campground and said that he’d found two more while I was gone. We watched the female complete oviposition, then I looked for more at the bases of other cottonwoods throughout the general campground area, finding three more for a total series of seven individuals—by far the most individuals of this species that I have seen at one time!
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) female ovipositing in soil at base of trunk of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
After another break for an ice run into town and a delicious “last supper” of some of the thickest brats I’ve ever had (jalapeño and cheddar, grilled of course, with lots of mustard!), I turned on the lights and hoped for a successful final collecting act for the trip. This was only the second night (out of 19!) that I was able to run the lights for nighttime insects—every other night it was either too cold, too windy (usually both), and it was especially frustrating last night after getting stormed out just as I began to set things up. The night did not disappoint! Insects starting coming in right away, the most notable early catches being another M. dealbatus and several individuals of a tiny cicada (perhaps Pacarina puella?), a specimen of which I had tried to salvage from a spider web earlier in the day but which fell apart as I was doing so. In addition to the overwhelmingly abundant N. superbus, this gave me four species of cicadas from the park. Tiger beetles featured prominently also—in addition to several Cicindelidia punctulata (expected), I also collected several Ellipsoptera cuprascens/macra, a couple of Tetracha carolina, and one Eunota circumpicta (I was disappointed, however, in my repeated failure to collect a Eunota togata that kept appearing at the light and then eluding my bottle!). Around 11:00 I turned off the MV light (to allow the UVs to pull in the shyer species) and walked over to the picnic area where I had collected so many C. caddo off of half-dead C. reticulata. This also did not disappoint, as I collected not only a diversity of longhorned beetles such as Amniscus sexguttata and Elytrimitatrix undatus but three individuals of Eburia haldemani—now I had more than just the teneral adults that I’d chopped out of the trees earlier in the day. Walking back to the UV light, there was not only another E. haldemani at the light but also another P. scalator along with several other longhorned beetle species. I probably could have continued going for another couple of hours, but it was approaching midnight and I was exhausted. I turned in knowing that I got to experience a fantastic final insect collecting act for the trip!
Aphonopelma armada (Texas black spot tarantula—family Theraphosidae) attracted to MV/UV light in cottonwood woodland.
Day 20
The drive back to St. Louis (Day 20) was typically boring—long stretches of travel on interstate highways with no prospect of a cool native habitat to look forward to. However, it provided time to reflect on the successes and frustrations of the trip, muse over some of the humorous experiences we’d had, and contemplate where we might want to go in future excursions. At 8:00 p.m. (after 4,519 miles and 92½ hours in the vehicle), I pulled into my driveway, unloaded the vehicle, and bade adieu to Mike—for the time being!
It’s not often that I see an insect that completely stumps me, especially on my regular morning walk in my own neighborhood. However, this morning I noticed a large(ish) brown insect lumbering across the road, and my first reaction was “What the heck is that?!” Initially I thought it was some kind of beetle, but when I bent down and got a closer look at it, I saw that it was actually some kind of fly. But what kind – I’d never seen anything like it before.
Coenomyia ferruginea (stink fly, family Xylophagidae)
It took a little sleuthing, but eventually I determined its identity as Coenomyia ferruginea—the so-called “stink fly” in the family Xylophagidae. I’d never heard of this family before, probably because they formerly were considered a subfamily of the family Rhagionidae (snipe flies), which together are thought to be a sister group to the family Tabanidae (horse and deer flies) and it’s relatives. Like those other groups, xylophagid larvae are thought to be scavengers or predators, some of them doing so in dead and decaying wood as predators of wood-boring larvae (the name “Xylophagidae” means “eats wood”).
Coenomyia ferruginea (stink fly, family Xylophagidae)
Sadly, the fly’s slow and clumsy movements lulled me into a sense of complacency—I had picked it up to bring back home and put in my collection, but such thoughts quickly evaporated when it suddenly took flight and drifted slowly up and into the canopy before disappearing from sight.
Coenomyia ferruginea (stink fly, family Xylophagidae)
Last fall, my good friend Richard Thoma and I visited “Snake Road” is a famous snake viewing area in southern Illinois—part of the LaRue-Pine Hills/Otter Pond Research Natural Area. Early October is prime season for viewing snakes there, principally northern cottonmouths (a.k.a. water moccasins—Agkistrodon piscivorus) as they move from the wetlands on the west side of the road to the towering limestone bluffs on the east side seeking crevices in which to shelter for the winter. With a string of cool nights and sunny skies and a forecasted high of 78°F, we couldn’t have picked a better day to look for them.
Shafts of morning sunlight stream through the forest.
We arrived a little after 9am, so conditions were still a bit too cool for the snakes. Shafts of morning sunlight streaming through the trees were a sight to behold, and we used the opportunity to notice some plants that we’d not seen before, including two species of goldenrod—i.e., Solidago caesia (bluestem goldenrod) and S. flexicaulis (broadleaved or zigzag goldenrod), Decodon verticillatus (swamp loosestrife), and Laportea canadensis (wood nettle). I noticed small green berry-like structures on some of the latter, which I at first took to be fruits, but something about them said “gall” and I cut one open to find a small insect larva inside verifying this to be the case. I presume this to gall to have been caused by Dasineura investita (wood nettle gall midge) in the family Cecidomyidae.
Solidago caesia (blue-stemmed goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.
Inflorescence of Solidago caesia (blue-stemmed goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.
Solidago flexicaulis (broadleaved or zigzag goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.
Inflorescence of Solidago flexicaulis (broadleaved or zigzag goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.
Decodon verticillatus (waterwillow or swamp loosestrife) in Mississippi River floodplain oxbow lake.
Laportea canadensis (Canada nettle or wood-nettle) in mesic bluff base forest.
Gall on Laportea canadensis (Canada nettle or wood-nettle), presumably caused by Dasineura investita (wood nettle gall midge).
Dissected Dasineura investita (wood nettle gall midge) gall on Laportea canadensis (Canada nettle or wood-nettle) revealing the larval inhabitant.
As we hiked south along the road (closed to automobiles during spring and fall to protect the migrating snakes), and especially when temperatures climbed above 70°F, we began looking in earnest for snakes, reasoning that they might best be found by searching along the base of the bluffs and in nearby crevices. We searched one particularly promising rock ledge without success, then encountered a spring draining from the main bluffs and followed it to the base, where we split up and looked along the base in both directions. My direction took me around a bend and up the hillside, with many nice-looking crevices but no snakes in them, and when I reached to top of the exposed bluff face I turned back and retraced my steps. Just after reaching the bottom I noticed movement near where I’d taken a step, and there it was—a gorgeously-marked juvenile cottonmouth! I called Rich over, and together we spent about a half-hour taking turns trying to get the perfect photograph of the snake while trying to minimize the degree to which we disturbed it (lest it make a dash for the nearest crevice, or worse yet, take a lunge at one of us). The majority of the photos shown here are of this individual, and the only photo I wish I would have gotten was one with a fully-extended, flickering tongue.
Our spirits buoyed by the experience, we bushwhacked back to the road and almost immediately encountered not one but two fully mature individuals—both having already lost the distinctive patterning seen on the juvenile but beautiful nonetheless. We spent more time photographing these as well, as we were able to get several great shots of the distinctly marked throat and mandible as they reared their heads in cautious defiance. I used the big camera exclusively for these shots, as they were much too large and I would have had to have gotten much too dangerously close to photograph them with my iPhone (look for photos to appear eventually on my natural history blog—‘Beetles in the Bush’).
Further south we found an exposed bluff face very close to the road, and several additional mature individuals were seen there—two deeply ensconced within their chosen crevice but one fully exposed (two photos here) who even cooperated by gaping his mouth in alarm to show off the cottony-pink tissues inside.
Adult northern cottonmouth (Agkistrodon piscivorus) with mouth agape, revealing the cottony-pink tissues inside that give rise to its common name.
In all, we would see nine individuals by the time we hiked to the southern parking lot and turned around, and on the way back, not trying nearly as hard and making a more direct line to the car, we would see another five individuals (two of which could have been individuals we’d seen on the way out) for a total of 14. We also watched in amazement as a tiny juvenile eastern yellow-bellied racer (Coluber constrictor flaviventris) chased down a fly on the road before dashing back towards the forest, and we were particularly amused by a nine-banded armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus) who lumbered stupidly out of the underbrush straight towards us, completely unaware of our presence until Rich made a sudden movement with his hand that sent the little brute scurrying back into the underbrush.
Nine-banded armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus).
Almost as we reached the car, we found a ribbon snake (Thamnophis sauritus) stretched out across the road. Snake sightings notwithstanding, the return hike back to the car was not nearly as enjoyable as the hike out, as by this time quite a number of other people had shown up and we no longer had the place to ourselves. I can only imagine what it must be like here during the weekend! Nevertheless, we couldn’t have imagined a more successful and enjoyable outing than the one we experienced today.
Beetles In The Bush 