Winter botany quiz #3

I won’t be coy about the location of these trees, all of which were photographed within the Lake Tahoe Basin during my recent trip. A further clue: I have already alluded to these species in a previous post. Once again, comment moderation has been turned on to give everyone a fair shot, and I’ll let the quiz go for a couple days or so. I think this quiz will be easier for my North American readers than Winter botany quiz #2, but maybe still harder than Winter botany quiz #1. Anyone who can correctly identify all six species wins my undying admiration 😉

EDIT: Pedant that I am, attention to nomenclature will serve as a tie-breaker if needed.

#1.

p1020642_2

HINT: Needles in bundles of 3 and about 10" long.

#2.

p1020583_2

HINT: Needles in bundles of 3 and about 10" long.

MORE HINTS:

p1020662_2

Cones for #1 (left) and #2 (right).

#3.

p1020717_2

HINT: Needles in bundles of 2 and about 2" long.

#4.

p1020718_2

HINT: Needles in bundles of 5 and about 4" long.

#5.

p1020795_2

HINT: Needles in bundles of 5 and about 4" long.

#6.

p1020790_2

HINT: Needles in bundles of 5 and about 3" long.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009

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Sanctuary for the Betulaceae

Nestled on the eastern side of the St. Francois Mountains, where the craggy exposures of the Ozarks most ancient rocks begin to subside underneath the Cambrian sandstones laid down over them, lies Hawn State Park – considered by many to be the loveliest of Missouri’s state parks. I have written previously about Hawn – in fact, it was the subject of my very first post on this blog. I have long treasured Hawn for its excellent insect collecting, diversity of plants and habitats, and unbridled beauty. I have hiked the incomparable Pickle Creek and Whispering Pine Trails many times – far more than any other trail in the state, and each time I fall more deeply in love with what, to me, represents the essence of the Missouri Ozarks in their most pristine state.

Lamotte sandstone cutThe charm of Hawn results from a unique combination of geological features. The Lamotte sandstone outcrops that dominate Hawn’s landscape are the oldest sedimentary rocks in the state, formed from coarse sand deposits that were laid down over the Precambrian rhyolites and granites that form the core of the St. Francois Mountains. These sand deposits were themselves buried under limestone and dolomite layers formed at the bottom of vast seas that later covered much of the interior of the continent. Subsequent periods of uplift and erosion once again exposed these sandstones, whose unique ability to hold groundwater has resulted in the formation of spring-fed streams that have cut deep into their soft layers to create canyon-rimmed valleys with tall vertical cliffs. rhyolite shut-ins One of these streams is Pickle Creek, which is fed throughout the year by Pickle Spring and has in some places cut all the way down to the underlying igneous rock to form “shut-ins.” In contrast to the slow, sandy bottomed stretches where Pickle Creek is still cutting through sandstones, the water in these igneous shut-ins rushes through narrow openings in the highly resistant rock. The igneous and sandstone exposures found in Hawn are spectacularly beautiful and support a unique flora due to the acid soils they produce. One group of plants that have taken sanctuary in these moist, acid soils is the Betulaceae, or birch family. Missouri is home to five native species of Betulaceae¹, and while none of them are extraordinarily uncommon they are limited in their occurrence to natural communities with sufficient moisture and exhibit a clear preference for acidic soils. This confluence of conditions occurs perfectly along Pickle Creek, allowing all five native species to grow here side-by-side – a betulaceous “hot spot” that represents not only the full diversity of the family in Missouri, but also the total generic diversity of the family in North America. In fact, only one other genus (Ostryopsis, shrubs related to Corylus and restricted to China) is assigned to the family on a global basis (Furlow 2004).

¹ Dr. George Yatskievych, in his recently published Steyermark’s Flora of Missouri (2006), regarded the presence of Corylus cornuta in Missouri as unlikely despite earlier reports of such. Dr. Yatskievych also recorded a single escape of the European species Alnus glutinosa from Springfield, Missouri.

The Betulaceae are deciduous trees and shrubs that occur primarily in the boreal and cool temperate zones of the Northern Hemisphere, although outposts are also known from high elevations in the Neotropics and, as mentioned above, China. Fossils of this ancient lineage of flowering plants are traceable to the late Mesozoic (upper Cretaceous), and the family appears to form a clade with hamamelidaceous plants. As would be expected from a group with boreal affinities, most species exhibit adaptations for survival in cold climates, such as small stature, shrubby growth habits, and small leaves. Several of Missouri’s species have performed well and gained acceptance as ornamental trees and shrubs, while others are important as sources of hazelnuts (genus Corylus) or ecologically for their ability to fix nitrogen (genus Alnus). My interest in these plants has nothing to do with their economic importance, but rather in their role as host plants for several rarely encountered species of woodboring beetles. Often, insects in this group may be collected on foliage of their hosts during the summer, making host identification fairly easy due to the presence of leaves. This is not always possible, however, due to limited periods of adult activity or low population densities. Rearing these insects from their hosts provides additional opportunity to document their occurrence, and winter is often the best time to collect the dead branches in which they breed, since by that time they have nearly completed their development and will be ready to emerge as soon as temperatures rise during spring. Identifying woody plants without foliage can be a challenge, but the ability to distinguish host plants by non-foliage characters such as bark, growth habit, bud shape, etc. greatly facilitates studies of wood boring beetles through rearing. In the past I have relied heavily on Cliburn and Klomps’ (1980), A Key to Missouri Trees in Winter, which utilizes mostly details of the twigs and buds to discriminate among Missouri’s 160+ species of trees. However, after a certain level of familiarity is gained, one eventually learns to recognize winter trees and even downed logs or fallen branches simply by their “look”.

Betula nigra - habit

Betula nigra - habit

Betula nigra - old bark

Betula nigra - old bark

Betula nigra - sapling

Betula nigra - sapling

Betula nigra (river birch) is the only member of this largely boreal genus found in the middle and southern latitudes of the U.S. and, thus, cannot be confused with any of Missouri’s other betulaceous species². It is the largest of the five and, along with the following species, is the most demanding in terms of keeping its “feet” wet. Trees are usually encountered right at the water’s edge, with tall, slender, often twisted or leaning trunks. Young trees and large branches on older trees exhibit gorgeous reddish brown bark peeling in thin, papery sheets, becoming thick and scaly on the main trunks of older trees. Small branches are dark, purplish brown in color with smooth bark and distinctly horizontal lenticels.  I have reared a small jewel beetle from fallen, dead branches of this tree collected at several locations in Missouri – this beetle turned out to be new to science, which I described and named Agrilus betulanigrae in reference to its (then) only known host (MacRae 2003).  I have also reared tremendous series of another jewel beetle, Anthaxia cyanella, which at the time was not known to utilize this host and was considered uncommon.  As it turns out, Betula nigra is its preferred host, and the rearing of large series from many locations resulted in improved knowledge about color forms and variability in this species (MacRae & Nelson 2003).

² The widely planted but dreadfully non-adapted Betula pendula (European white birch) and B. papyrifera (paper birch) can be recognized by their distinctly white bark. These species are limited to urban landscapes where they rarely achieve significant stature before declining and eventually succumbing to insect pests such as Agrilus anxius (bronze birch borer). River birch provides an equally attractive and much more durable choice!

Alnus serrulata - habit

Alnus serrulata - habit

Alnus serrulata - sapling

Alnus serrulata - sapling

Alnus serrulata - old cones

Alnus serrulata - old cones

Alnus serrulata (common alder, hazel alder, smooth alder, tag alder…) also demands to be next to (or even in) the water.  Unlike B. nigra, however, this species rarely reaches true tree status, instead usually forming shrubby thickets along the water’s edge.  Saplings can resemble those of B. nigra due to their smooth brownish bark, but the latter is usually more purplish, and the lenticels of A. serrulata are not distinctly horizontal as in B. nigra. The large purple-red buds also differ from the small brown buds of B. nigra, and during winter A. serrulata is adorned with numerous staminate catkins.  The persistent woody cones also cannot be mistaken for those of any other species of Betulaceae in Missouri. Associated with this plant is the longhorned beetle, Saperda obliqua, which reaches its southwesternmost distributional limit in Missouri on the basis of a single specimen collected some 25 years ago right here along Pickle Creek and given to me by lepidopterist George Balogh. Numerous attempts to find this species here since then have not (yet!) been successful.

Carpinus caroliniana - habit

Carpinus caroliniana - habit

Carpinus caroliniana (blue beech, hornbeam, musclewood) is one of my favorite betulaceous species. The beautifully fluted trunks and smooth, light gray bark are remniscent of the limbs of a sinewy, muscular person – every time I see this tree I cannot resist the temptation to grab and stroke the hard limbs (should I be admitting this?). This character begins to show even in very young trees, making its identification during winter quite easy. These trees also like to be near water, but they are not so demanding to be right at the water’s edge as are the previous two species. They usually form small trees, often in clumps with multiple trunks.  There are some notable insect associations that I’ve found with this plant.  One is a small jewel beetle, Agrilus ohioensis, which I reared from dead branches of this plant collected along Pickle Creek (Nelson & MacRae 1990), and which after more than 20 years still remain the only known Missouri specimens of this species.  Another is the longhorned beetle, Trachysida mutabilis, a single adult of which I reared from a dead (almost rotting) branch of this plant collected not too far from Pickle Creek in Iron Co.  This beetle also is the only representative of its species known from Missouri (MacRae & Rice 2007).

Ostrya virginiana - habit

Ostrya virginiana - habit

Ostrya virginiana - trunk

Ostrya virginiana - trunk

Ostrya virginiana (hop hornbean, American hornbeam) has a form and growth habit very similar to C. caroliniana, but its leaves that persist through the winter make it instantly recognizable from afar.  In Missouri, this habit is most often seen with the oaks (Quercus spp.).  This species can be found even further away from the water than the previous species, and its small stature combines with the orangish, persistent leaves to form a distinctive understory layer during winter.  Also, in contrast to the smooth gray bark of Carpinus, this species exhibits scaly, light reddish brown to brownish gray bark.  I have succeeded in rearing one of the two known Missouri specimens of another jewel beetle, Agrilus champlaini, from O. virginiana collected along Pickle Creek (the other specimen was reared from wood collected at Graham Cave State Park, another site where sandstone bedrocks favor an O. virginiana understory).  Unlike most other jewel beetles, A. champlaini forms galls in small living branches of its host.  I have collected the distinctive swellings during winter on many occasions but managed to rear only these two individuals (plus one ichneumonid parasitoid).  I have also noted similar swellings on Carpinus but have not yet managed to definitely associated them with this beetle.

Corylus americana (hazelnut, American hazelnut) is the smallest of Missouri’s five betulaceous species, always forming shrubs, sometimes in thickets, and never assuming the form of a tree. Its staminate catkins present during winter immediately identify plants of this species as Betulaceae, but the small, globe-shaped buds are unlike the more pointed buds of Ostrya and the elongated, reddish buds of Alnus. This species is the least demanding in terms of being near water and can be found even in upland prairies and glades. I haven’t yet associated any woodboring beetles with this plant in Missouri, but there are several jewel beetles known from the eastern U.S. that utilize Corylus (Agrilus corylicola, A. fulgens, and A. pseudocoryli) and could occur in Missouri.

pine savanna - fire managementThe upland habitats at Hawn are of interest as well. Lamotte sandstones are the dominant bedrock, creating acid soils that support a canopy dominated by Missouri’s only native species of pine, Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine), several species of oak, and a diversity of acid-loving shrubs primarily in the family Ericaceae (including the stunningly beautiful Rhododendron prinophyllum, or wild azalea). Historically, so-called “pine savanna” was prevalent in this area, a natural community in which periodic fires maintained an open structure amongst the fire-adapted pines and allowed a diverse herbaceous layer beneath the open canopy. Much of Hawn has closed up after decades of fire suppression; trail through pine savannahowever, the Department of Natural Resources has implemented a rotational burn management regime to recreate pine savanna habitat within Hawn’s Whispering Pines Wild Area. Evidence of what appeared to be very recent burns could be seen at several places as I hiked along the Whispering Pines Trail, and while many visitors might have been alarmed at the apparent “damage” they were observing, my heart sang with the prospect of seeing mature pine savanna communities taking hold throughout my beloved Hawn. As I stood atop this ridge and looked back down from where I had come, I could almost see Henry Schoolcraft and Levi Pettibone in the distance on horseback, perhaps pausing to gaze at an elk.

REFERENCES:

Cliburn, J. and G. Klomps. 1980. A Key to Missouri Trees in Winter, 2nd edition. Missouri Department of Conservation, Jefferson City, 43 pp. (subsequently revised)

Furlow, J. J.  2004. Betulaceae in Flora of North America @ efloras.org. http://www.efloras.org/florataxon.aspx?flora_id=1&taxon_id=10101.

MacRae, T. C. 2003. Agrilus (s. str.) betulanigrae MacRae (Coleoptera: Buprestidae: Agrilini), a new species from North America, with comments on subgeneric placement and a key to the otiosus species-group in North America. Zootaxa 380:1–9.

MacRae, T. C., and G. H. Nelson. 2003. Distributional and biological notes on Buprestidae (Coleoptera) in North and Central America and the West Indies, with validation of one species. The Coleopterists Bulletin 57(1):57–70.

MacRae, T. C. and M. E. Rice. 2007. Distributional and biological observations on North American Cerambycidae (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 61(2):227–263.

Nelson, G. H. and T. C. MacRae. 1990. Additional notes on the biology and distribution of Buprestidae (Coleoptera) in North America, III. The Coleopterists Bulletin 44(3):349–354.

Yatskievych, G. 2006. Steyermark’s Flora of Missouri, Volume 2. The Missouri Botanical Garden Press, St. Louis, 1181 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009

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Ozark Trail – Marble Creek Section

If you know wilderness in the way that you know love, you would be unwilling to let it go…. This is the story of our past and it will be the story of our future. – Terry Tempest Williams


During the past several years that Rich and I have been hiking the Ozark Trail, most of our hikes have taken place in the fall and winter months. From a hiker’s perspective, I really enjoy these off-season hikes – the foliage-free canopy affords unobstructed views of the terrain and vistas, the cool (even cold) temperatures are more comfortable under exertion (provided one has properly layered), and there are no mosquitos to swat, ticks to pick, or gnats to incessantly annoy. I also enjoy them as a naturalist, for the world is quiet and still, allowing me to focus on things I may not notice amidst the cacophany of life during the warmer months. By the end of winter, however, the biologist in me yearns to once again see bugs and flowers and the great interplay of life. Unfortunately, this makes something as simple as hiking from point A to point B rather difficult – too many distractions! Nevertheless, each spring Rich and I try to hike a small leg of the Ozark Trail before the crush of summer activities fills our calenders. Last week, we chose the Marble Creek Section, an orphan stretch (for the time being) in the rugged St. Francois Mountains that eventually will connect to the famed Taum Sauk Section. It would be our first return visit to the St. Francois Mountains since we first embarked on our goal to hike the entirety of the Ozark Trail.

The St. Francois Mountains are the geologic heart of the Ozark Highlands. Since their primordial birth 1.5 billion years ago, recurring cycles of erosion and deposition have worn them down and covered them up, only to see them reemerge once again as the younger rocks covering them were themselves stripped away. The Ozarks are an ancient landscape with ancient hills, and none are older than those of the St. Francois Mountains. It’s as if the Earth itself began in these mountains. We began our hike at Crane Lake, a clear, blue 100-acre lake built in the 1970s by the Youth Conservation Corps. The trail surrounding the lake was built in 1975 and is, in its own right, a National Recreation Trail. It meanders along the lakeshore and through hillside igneous glades and descends into a deep ravine below the dam where Crane Pond Creek cascades through spectacular rhyolite shut-ins. East of the lake the trail connects to the Ozark Trail proper and continues to Marble Creek campground. All told, we would be hiking a 9-mile stretch.

I knew we were in a special place almost from the beginning when I noticed a small flowering plant growing next to the trail under the mixed pine/oak canopy. I’m not a very good botanist, but I instantly recognized the plant as dwarf spiderwort (Tradescantia longipes), an Ozark endemic known from only a handful of counties in Missouri and Arkansas. I knew this only because I had just the night before read about this wonderful plant on Ozark Highlands of Missouri, a superb natural history blog focused on my beloved Ozarks. Reading about this lovely, diminutive member of the genus, I wondered if I might encounter it on my own hike the next day. As we searched off the trail and near the lakeshore we encountered dozens of the plants, each with one or two exquisite blue flowers. Our excitement at seeing a true Ozark endemic increased with each plant we encountered, giving us confidence that its future, at least in this area, appears secure. Of the numerous photographs I took, I share two that show its short, squat habit and filament-covered stamens. Eventually we decided we needed to move on – we had spent 20 minutes and only hiked 100 ft!

Looping around the south side of the lake, the trail traversed mesic to dry-mesic upland forest and afforded spectacular views of the lake and rugged north shore. The spring ephemerals had already come and gone, replaced by such classic woodland denizens as birdfoot violet (Viola pedata, pictured), fire pink (Silene virginica), cream wild indigo (Baptisia leucophaea), four-leaved milkweed (Asclepias quadrifolia), Pursh’s phacelia (Phacelia purshii), and shooting star (Dodecatheon meadia). Insect life was abundant, however, the only species seen in one of my chosen specialties, metallic wood boring beetles (family Buprestidae), were early spring species of Acmaeodera – pictured here is A. ornata on a dewberry (Rubus sp.) flower. This pretty little beetle occurs throughout eastern North America in early spring on a variety of flowers, where adults feed on pollen and mate. Eggs are laid on dead branches of certain hardwood trees, through which the larvae tunnel as they develop. Dry, dead wood contains little nutritional value, and the larvae cannot digest the cellulose. As a result, they eat considerable volumes of wood, extracting whatever nutrients they can for growth and ejecting the bulk as sawdust, which they pack tightly in their tunnels behind them. A year or more might be required before they have grown sufficiently to transform into the adult and emerge from the wood. A smaller relative, Acmaeodera tubulus, was also seen on flowers of native dwarf dandelion (Krigia biflora).

We stopped for lunch on a little point extending out towards the lake. The forest overstory was dominated by an open mixture of white oak (Quercus alba) and shortleaf pine (Pinus echinata). Thickets of highbush huckleberry (Vaccinium stramineum) and carpets of reindeer moss in the open areas belied the acidic nature of the igneous substrate. Stands of bastard toad flax (Comandra richardsiana) in full bloom were found at the tip’s dry, rocky tip. These interesting plants feed parasitically on neighboring plants, attaching to the roots of their hosts by means of their long, thin rhizomes. Resuming our hike, we descended down into a shaded, moist draw feeding the lake and saw a huge royal fern (Osmunda regalis var. spectabilis) bush. I had never seen this aptly named fern before, but it was immediately recognizeable by its large size (~5 ft in height) and presence of distinctive, fertile leaflets on some of its upper branches – a very striking and handsome fern, indeed. Nearby was a smaller, but no less attractive species of fern that I take to be marginal sheild fern (Dryopteris marginalis) – another species I have not seen before (or at least made the effort to notice).

Soon, we reached the dam and for the first time saw the spectacular rhyolite shut-ins. While perhaps not quite as impressive as the nearby and much more famous Johnson’s Shut-Ins, Rich and I nonetheless watched entranced as the water roared over the smooth igneous rock exposure, forming elegant cascades, rushing through narrow chutes, and swirling into small pools. Steep canyon walls rose sharply on each side of the shut-ins, as if standing guard. Clambering amidst the pines and cedars that cloaked them, we found this maidenhair spleenwort (Asplenium trichomanes) nestled within a crack on a vertical rock face under continuous deep shade. Reaching the top of the bluffs, we were greated by one of my favorite of all Ozark habitats – the igneous glade. Glades are natural island communities surrounded by a sea of forest. Their shallow, dry, rocky soil conditions support plants and animals more adapted to prairie or desert habitats. Specific communities are influenced by the type of rock below – igneous and sandstone substrates support lichens, mosses, and other acid soil-loving plants, while limestone and dolomite substrates support a more calcareous flora. The photo here shows the massive boulder outcroppings typical of igneous glades and their weather-resistant bedrock. We hoped to see a collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris), perhaps Missouri’s finest saurian reptile, but today was not the day. We did, however, see adults of the beautiful and aptly named splendid tiger beetle (Cicindela splendida) sunning themselves on the bare rock surfaces – flashing brilliant green and clay-red. The adults we saw had spent the winter deep inside tunnels dug into the rocky soil the previous fall and were now looking for mates. Male tiger beetles grab females by the neck, their jagged, toothy jaws fitting precisely in grooves on the female neck designed specifically for such. As I looked upon this prairie island within the forest, I thought about how the St. Francois Mountains were once themselves islands. I realized the landscape we were exploring today was itself a fossil – with rhyolitic ‘islands’ amidst a ‘sea’ of cherty dolomite laid down a half billion years ago in the warm, tropical, Cambrian waters that surrounded the St. Francois Islands, by then already a billion years old themselves. Yes, the Earth itself seems to have begun here.

Leaving the glade and once again entering the acid pine forest, we came upon one of the most striking floral displays that either of us have ever witnessed – wild azalea (Rhododendron prinophyllum) in the midst of full bloom! I have known about several colonies of this plant for many years now but had only seen them at the very end of the bloom period, with just a few, pitiful, limply hanging flowers still attached. Today, the plants were absolutely dazzling. The blossoms were not only visually attractive, a deep pink color, but also unexpectedly fragrant. We stood amongst several specimen plants as tall as ourselves, taking picture after picture amidst the clovelike aroma wafting around us.

We checked our watches – we were now 3 hours into our hike and had traversed just 2 miles. Clearly, this was not a sustainable pace, so we put our heads down and focused on covering ground. Once leaving the vicinity of Crane Lake, the trail became rather difficult to follow – it obviously receives little use, and in one stretch some logging activities had obliterated the trail completely. Were it not for the sporadic pieces of orange flagging tape tied just within sight of the previous, we would not have know where to go. At one point, we got completely off-track and had to backtrack a full half mile before we found the proper trail. The day put our contour map reading skills to their greatest test yet. It was difficult and strenuous terrain, with steep up and down grades and few long ridgetop stretches until (thankfully) the final 2 miles, which terminated in a long descent (more thankfully) to Marble Creek Campground. Despite the difficulties in following the trail and our not bringing enough water, I would have to rank this section a close second to the Taum Sauk stretch for its ruggedness, spectacular vistas, and unique plant communities. Yes, the St. Francois Mountains are truly the heart of the Ozarks.

Muir Woods National Monument

This is the best tree-lovers monument that could possibly be found in all the forests of the world. – John Muir

Coastal redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) is the tallest type of tree in the world, with maximum recorded heights approaching 380 feet. This majestic conifer grows only along the Pacific Coast in a narrow strip from Monterey to Oregon. Most of the estimated 2 million acres of original redwood forest are now gone — victims of the saw! One of the small groves that managed to escape this fate due to its relative inaccessibility grows along Redwood Creek and adjacent slopes in what is now Muir Woods National Monument. At heights approaching 260 feet, the redwoods growing here are not the tallest to be found; however, their proximity to San Francisco (just 15 miles from the Golden Gate Bridge) makes them the most heavily viewed examples of this ancient tree. Lynne and I visited Muir Woods a few times in the 90’s after moving to Sacramento — today (3/20) was our first visit since then, and the first ever for Mollie and Madison. In addition to getting to see these marvelous trees once again, we were also treated to a spectacular display of spring wildflowers.

We began our hike on the main paved trail. This is where most visitors confine themselves during a visit to this place, so the picture here documents a rare sight — no people! I apologize for its lack of focus, a consequence of the limitations of my little point-and-shoot camera in the limited amount of light that makes it through these towering trees during late afternoon.

Standing beneath one of these trees and looking up is a lesson in insignificance — the feeling one gets looking straight up the trunk of one of these giants cannot be adequately captured on film (er… microchip).

We quickly tired of the crowds and decided to hike up the Ocean View Trail, which climbs quite steeply up the east side of the valley. This marvelous trail was nearly devoid of people, and we found ourselves winding through thick, dark, cool forest with numerous side ravines. The lower elevations of the trail were dominated by redwood trees and a spectacular array of spring wildflowers. Among the most common was California toothwort (Cardamine  californica [=Dentaria californica]), a member of the mustard family (Brassicaceae). I noticed that the leaves at the base of the plant were broad and oval, while those arising from the flower stalk were slender and lanceolate, often divided into 3 leaflets.

Wake robins (genus Trillium), belonging to the lily family (Liliaceae, sometimes separated into the lily-of-the-valley family, Convallariaceae), are among my favorite wildflowers. We soon noticed Western wake robin (Trillium ovatum) growing commonly in shaded areas along the trail. We were also seeing some purple-flowered wake robins — at first I thought they were a different species, but it soon became apparent that these were older Western wake robin flowers, which change color from white to purple as they age.

A little further up the trail we began encountering small patches of Mountain iris (Iris douglasiana, family Iridaceae). Flower color for this native species ranges from cream-white to lavender, but all of the flowers we saw were of the white variety.

We saw this fat Solomon’s seal (Maianthemum racemosum ssp. amplexicaule [=Smilacina racemosa var. amplexicaulis]) growing in one of the cool, moist, side ravines. This is another member of the Liliaceae (sometimes separated into the Convallariaceae). The large, oval leaves clasping around the distinct, unbranched stem were almost as attractive as the flowers, which apparently give rise to bright scarlet berries in the summer.

In the middle elevations the redwood forest transitioned to drier oak woodland containing a mixture of Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), Pacific madrone (Arbutus menziesii), bigleaf maple (Acer macrophyllum), and tan oak (Lithocarpus densiflorus). Some of the Douglas-firs were enormous.


Indian warrior (Pedicularis densiflora) is a member of the figwort family (Scrophulariaceae, sometimes separated into the Orobanchaceae). This plant, with its striking bright red flowers and finely divided, fern-like leaves, is a facultative parasite on the roots of other plants. Apparently, the genus name refers to an old superstition that sheep could become infested with lice if they ate this plant.


The juncture of the Ocean View Trail with the Lost Trail was closed, so we backtracked down the 1+ miles back to the main paved trail. By now it was fairly late in the afternoon, and the crowds had thinned considerably. Having gotten lots of good views of the giant trees, we began turning our attention downwards to the smaller understory flora. Ferns, of course, are a dominant component of this understory, especially along Redwood Creek. This large specimen may represent Western sword fern (Polystichum munitum) (family Dryopteridaceae), which can apparently be distinguished by small hilt-like projections from the base of the pinnae (leaflets), but I couldn’t get close enough to see for sure.


Abundant on the ground in the valley was redwood sorrell (Oxalis oregana), a member of the family Oxalidaceae. In places this plant covered the ground in thick carpets.


Among the more interesting plants we saw in the valley was California fetid adder’s tongue (Scoliopus bigelovii), yet another member of the Liliaceae or Convallariaceae. I wasn’t sure what this plant was at first, despite its highly distinctive, glossy, mottled foliage. We were too late to see the blooms, which apparently have a fetid odor to attract flies for pollination, but did find the maturing pods on their slender, drooping stems.


Close to the creek’s edge we saw this colony of horsetails (Equisetum sp.), primitive plants in the family Equisetaceae. Members of this group belong to one of the most ancient lineages of vascular plants, dating back to the Devonian period (416-359 million years ago). Their Paleozoic ancestors (Calamitaceae and Archaeocalamitaceae) were giants, reaching heights of 50 ft or more, and were major components of the Carboniferous swamplands. Along with lycopod trees (Lepidodendrales), they were important contributors to coal formation and, like the lycopods, became extinct by the mid-Permian (~270 million years ago). The genus Equisetum represents the only surviving descendants of this lineage. Unlike their extinct progenitors, these small, herbaceous plants rarely exceed 4 ft in height; however, they share many of the same characters such as articulate stems with microphylls arranged in whorls. Recent phylogenetic studies, using both molecular and morphological characters, suggest that horsetails, together with ferns, form a clade representing one of the three major lineages of vascular plants (Pryer et al. 2001).


Nearby we saw a patch of Giant wake robin (Trillium chloropetalum) in flower. These were taller than the California wake robins we saw on the slopes of the Ocean View Trail but similarly characterized by a whorl of 3 leaves and flowers composed of 3 erect petals. Mature flowers darken to a deep red purple, so it seems these plants had just begun flowering. Muir Woods appears to be a good place for observing a diversity of Convallariaceae!


Also along Redwood Creek we found this bigleaf maple (Acer macrophyllum) in full bloom. As its specific epithet suggests, this maple has the largest leaves of any member of the genus — in this example the newly-expanded leaves were distinctly purplish. The picture below shows the greenish-yellow flowers (petals inconspicuous) produced on long, pendulous racemes.


Interpretive signs along the paved main trail pointed out a redwood “family group,” formed by sprouts growing from the base of a larger tree. Eventually, the central “mother” tree died and decayed away, leaving a ring of offspring that mature into an enormous, characteristic circle of trees. This apparently also happens with other types of trees, though on a smaller scale, as demonstrated in this picture of an oak (Quercus sp.) family group.


As the day drew to a close we found ourselves back in the parking lot, where this California icon, a clump of Coast live oak (Quercus agrifolia), was spreading its wide, majestic crown from multiple, twisted trunks and gnarled branches.


Much too soon, it was time to leave this beautiful valley, but before heading back to Sacramento we stopped to take one last look down towards the valley and out to the Pacific Ocean from the Panoramic Highway.

Ozark Trail – lower Courtois Section

The Courtois Section is the northern terminus of the Ozark Trail (OT). Despite its proximity to the St. Louis metro area, it feels just as remote and wild as the more southern sections. Rich and I played hooky from work on Friday and made our first visit to this stretch of the Ozark Trail. At 40 miles in length, we’ll need to break it up into at least three parts, so for our first attempt we hiked the lower portion from Hazel Creek (where the Trace Creek section begins) north to the Hwy 8 trailhead. Apparently this portion of the OT is very popular with mountain bikers and equestrians; however, we didn’t encounter a single person all day.

I expected the terrain to be rather mild at this northern end of the OT, but the first few miles were quite up and down. There was still some snow on the ground from a big storm a few days earlier – mild temps and sunny skies since then had caused a lot of melt. As a result, south facing slopes were completely devoid of snow cover, while north facing slopes still had and inch or two of snow, creating “split” scenes such as this:


Right away we noticed a lot of fresh woodpecker damage on oak trees. This is likely the result of infestations by the red oak borer (Enaphalodes rufulus), a cerambycid beetle that preferentially attacks red and black oaks suffering from drought or other environmentally-induced stress. The larvae of these beetles mine beneath the bark on the trunks of these trees before tunneling into the sapwood to pass the winter. Overwintering larvae are tasty morsels for woodpeckers, who hammer into the trunks with their beaks and extract the larvae with their barbed tongues. Interestingly, conventional wisdom has it that the tongue “stabs” the larva, and the barbs aid in pulling the larva out of its gallery. However, recent experiments with a West Indian species suggest this is not the case. Rather, the larva “sticks” to saliva on the tongue, and the barbs help to grab the larva as the tongue is wrapped around it. This picture shows a small black oak (Quercus velutinus) tree with fresh damage, probably from a pileated woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus) judging by the size, going after one of these larvae.


A few miles into the trail, we came upon some curious “pits” covering one hillside. We speculated what they might be – sinks was an early thought, but I didn’t think that was so because the ground was mounded around the edge like they had been intentionally dug. Rich then remembered reading something about miners digging such pits in past years looking for minerals – we decided that must be what they were, and this was later confirmed in our Ozark Trail guidebook. Certain hillsides were literally covered with these pits, spaced ~10-15 feet apart.

After passing through Snapps Branch (where we noticed a small calcareous wet meadow, or fen – thankfully fenced), the trail leveled out for awhile before descending down to Boiling Springs Hollow where we stopped for lunch. Many of the larger valleys along the OT show some evidence of prior habitation – either by remains of old structures or by the stage of succession exhibited by the bottomland forest. Right at Boiling Springs, I noticed this large, old oak tree along with several large sugar maples (Acer saccharum) surrounded by younger forest – I suspect these “founder trees” were planted at some point when people lived near the spring (or at least spared from “the saw”) and remain as the only evidence of the people who lived here in the past.


I love bones and pick them up whenever I get the chance. After leaving Boiling Springs I noticed this half mandible of a white tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus) laying on the trail, still partially embedded in the snow. It was remarkably clean and complete, containing all of its dentition and with no remaining tissue except for a small piece attached to the nerve fossa. It’s completeness begged the question – where was the other half? We looked around and couldn’t find it. We then wondered if it had been dragged there by a scavenger, although we thought that if that was the case it should show signs of gnawing or at least have lost some of its dentition. At any rate, I have a white tailed deer cranium in my collection but not a mandible, so this will be a welcome addition.


Eventually we entered Machell Hollow, where we followed a beautiful stretch through the upper reaches of the valley. In this area we noticed a large number of dead white oaks (Quercus alba) that were all about the same size (~4-8″ dbh) and in about the same stage of decay, as if they had all died about the same time (maybe 4-5 years ago). There were still plenty of larger living trees, and I began to suspect that a fire had moved through this area and began looking for the evidence. Soon we found several larger trees showing some blackening around the base of the trunk that seemed to confirm this thought. We had a lot of fun “pushing over” some of these trees, with one in particular probably representing our champion pushover to this point. I didn’t think it was gonna go, but Rich chipped in, and against our formidable combined weight the tree gave way and came down with a crash. I noticed evidence of tunneling by wood boring beetles (probably a species of Buprestidae) inside the trunk of this tree where it cracked upon falling and lamented that I could not take a piece with me for rearing. All of the dead white oaks had this one type of shelf fungus growing from their trunks, which were particularly numerous on this already fallen tree:


Climbing up (briefly) out of Machell Hollow, we saw this cut shortleaf pine (Pinus echinata) laying by the side of the trail. Interestingly, the accumulated ice on the cut end of the trunk was not the result of water running off the trunk, but through the trunk, apparently through insect galleries and perhaps even the vascular bundles of the wood itself. The slow melt and freeze resulted in these interesting little ice columns joining the trunk to the moss-covered ground below.


Back down into the lower reaches of Machell Hollow, evidence of prior settlement was obvious, as the bottomland forest in this area was replaced by young successional forest comprised primarily of chokecherry (Prunus virginiana), honey locust (Gleditsia triacanthos), and brambles (Rubus sp.). We saw this lone little fruticose lichen growing on a small honey locust. Apparently, of the three main groups of lichens, fruticose lichens are the most sensitive to environmental disturbance. Perhaps the existence of this one colony suggests that the health of this bottomland forest is returning as succession proceeds along the path to maturity.


Here’s a picture of Rich taking his own picture of the lichen. I don’t know why he didn’t just wait and steal mine once it got posted 😉


Much more abundant on the honey locust trees were these foliose lichens. Lichens in this group are probably the most commonly noticed lichens in the Missouri Ozarks (although the less conspicuous crustose lichens may actually be more diverse). If you click on the photo to see the full-sized version, you can see long, black “hairs” around the margin of each “leaf” – if anyone knows the identity of this or any of the other lichens pictured on this site please let me know.


While ascending out of Machell Hollow, we noticed this small canyon about a hundred yards off to the left and decided to go investigate. Along the way we noticed the small creek coming from it was actually a ‘losing creek’ – which means that the water flows into the ground at certain points and is ‘lost.’ This is another feature of the limestone/dolomite-based Karst geology so common here in southern Missouri that results in its abundance of caves and springs. When we got to the canyon we saw it was comprised of a layer of sandstone. This must be a rare western exposure of the LaMotte sandstones that are more common just to the east in Ste. Genevieve County (see earlier posts on Hawn State Park and Pickle Springs Natural Area). This sandstone layer overlying dolomite has created an interesting geological feature, where a losing creek originates from a box canyon. Ice stalactites were dripping from the north facing slope of the canyon walls.


Back down into another hollow leading to Lost Creek we saw more dead white oaks with shelf fungi growing from the trunks. This one was interesting in that the shelf fungi were themselves supporting the growth of algae on their surface – an exquisite example of the interconnectedness of life.


We had seen a flock of wild turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo) moving through the forest earlier in our hike. We were too clumsily noisy to get close enough for more than a cursory look at them as they trotted off on high alert, but evidence of their activity was obvious as we saw their fresh “scratchings” over a wide swath through the forest as they searched for acorns to eat. Tracks were abundant in the snow around the area also, but I couldn’t get a good picture of them. Later, as we neared Lost Creek, I saw more tracks in the mud, so I was able to get a good picture of one. It looked fairly fresh (well defined, with nail holes evident):

Lost Creek represented the end of our hike, but it proved to be a more than insigificant final hurdle, as the water level was quite high due to all the recent snow melt. There was no choice, we would have to get wet. Rich is smarter than I and had thought to bring along some flip flops, so he took off his boots and socks, rolled up his pants, and forded the creek. I let him go first to see how deep the water was – it reached above his knees and got is rolled up pants wet. I decided to get my boots wet – I didn’t want to walk on those rocks barefoot, which would slow me down far more than I wanted in that cold water. I could handle wet boots for the final quarter mile in exchange for the comfort and speed they would provide on the rocks. Rich may be smarter, but I took a better line and didn’t even get my pants wet, so for me it was only a matter of changing into my comfy shoes back at the car, with no need for a change of clothes (which I also wasn’t smart enough to bring, either). We completed the hike in 7 hours – yes, we’re lollygaggers, constantly distracted by little things that most people either don’t see or don’t care about. It was a wonderful hike on another beautiful day, and we ended it with another traditional post-hike visit to the nearest pizza parlor before the short drive back to St. Louis.

Ozark Trail – upper Trace Creek Section

Last Saturday Rich and I finished the Trace Creek Section of the Ozark Trail by hiking the upper 12.5 miles of the section – from Hazel Creek to the Hwy DD crossing. Today was a special day for us – we would be completing our 200th mile of the Ozark Trail! Unfortunately, I came down with a cold the day before, making it somewhat difficult to fully enjoy that milestone. Nevertheless, it was a milestone that we’re quite proud of. Since we started hiking the Ozark Trail some 7 years ago, we’ve completed the Taum Sauk, Middle Fork, Blair Creek, Current River, Between The Rivers, Eleven Point, and – now – Trace Creek Sections. Of these, the Taum Sauk Section is unquestionably the finest, crossing the rugged granite outcroppings of the St. Francois Mountains, and the Eleven Point Section with its towering bluff top views is a close second. We still have much to see, however. Completed sections still awaiting us are the Karkaghne, Marble Creek, Wappapello, and Victory Sections, and the Coutois and North Fork Sections are nearing completion. By the time we complete these sections, I expect additional parts of the planned route will be constructed and ready for our enjoyment.

But back to Saturday’s hike. We started at Hazel Creek with mild temps and cloudy skies but no precip in the forecast. We talked briefly to a mountain biker with a 29er who took this photo of us:


These cabin remains lie in the campground at the trailhead – those are sandstone blocks which I suppose must have been transported from the Lamotte formations some 30 miles to the east near Ste. Genevieve.


There was much to see in the vicinity of Hazel Creek. As an orchid enthusiast, I was pleased to find these Adam and Eve orchids (Aplectrum hymenale), also known as puttyroot, growing in healthy numbers on the hillside above the valley. The single leaf of this unusual plant is dusky grey-green in color, deeply creased and looking like crepe paper. They appear in late summer and persist until the plant flowers the following spring.


Another of the shelf fungi was found growing on the trunk of a large, dead deciduous tree.


My preoccupation with lichens continues. This colony of British Soldiers (Cladonia cristatella) was found growing in trailside rocks. This lichen is named for its resemblance to the uniforms worn by English soldiers during the Revolutionary War, although the spore-producing reproductive structures are not the brilliant red color as seen during the summer. Lichens are not plants, or even a single organism, but instead a symbiotic association between an alga (in this case, Trebouxia erici) and a fungus (in this case, Cladonia cristatella). Lichen scientific names are derived from the fungus part of the relationship.


Puffball mushrooms have been a favorite of mine since I found my first colony during childhood and delighted in watching the ‘smoke’ fly as I slapped them with my hands. These days I’m satisfied to just look at them (and maybe poke one or two).


The term “puffball” actually refers to a polyphyletic assemblage of fungi distributed within several orders in the division Basidiomycota. I’m no expert (or even a novice), but I wonder if these apparently mature individuals might represent the pear-shaped Morganella pyriforme, a saprobic species that is considered a choice edible while still young. Please leave a comment if you know its identity.


The trail was not particularly rugged but traversed across a number of ridges between the Hazel Creek and Trace Creek valleys. The bedrock was mainly chert, and along the trail we saw this quartz formation with its intricately formed interior exposed.


Approaching Trace Creek, this fireplace and chimney were all that remained of what was probably once a cozy little homestead. Obviously this house had not been constructed of sandstone blocks like the one at Hazel Creek. On each side of where the house once must have been stood two grand, old sugar maple trees (Acer saccharum) – we speculated they had been planted by the former residents and wondered what life was like in this isolated little part of the Ozarks back in the day.


We reached the trails namesake, Trace Creek, about halfway through our hike, and by this time we were the Ozark Trail’s newest 200-mile veterans. It was a pretty little valley, and we stopped here for a bit to eat and rest. Adam and Eve orchids were plentiful here, and in looking for them I became surprised to notice how large a variety of green, herbaceous plants one can find in these deciduous forests during the winter, especially in the lower elevations (moister?).


On these hikes, it has become customary to ‘push over’ trees – dead trees, that is. The larger the better, but of course the larger they are the ‘deader’ they must be for us to be able to push them. I did not push over a single tree on my previous hike of the lower Trace Creek Section, so I made up for it this time and found three trees to push over. Here, Rich finds out what all the fun is about:

The final miles of the hike became more difficult, as my sore throat and congestion combined with the miles started taking their toll on me. We finished our hike at the Hwy DD crossing after 7 hrs of hiking, portaged back to the other car, and met up in Sullivan for our traditional post-Ozark Trail hike pizza dinner.

Pickle Springs Natural Area

Pickle Springs Natural Area lies in Ste. Genevieve County, about an hour south of St. Louis. Like Hawn State Park, the geology of this area and its effect on the flora have resulted in a unique collection of geologic features and plants found in few other places. The Lamotte sandstone outcrops that dot the landscape were formed nearly half a billion years ago when sand deposited in an extensive maze of braided river channels was cemented and buried under younger layers of limestone and dolomite formed from deposits on the floors of ancient seas that covered the interior of the continent. Later, the periods of uplift that created the St. Francois Mountains and resulting erosion of overlying strata once again exposed the sandstones at the surface. Millions of years of water, ice, rain, wind, and plants have further shaped the exposed sandstones, creating fanstastic shapes and formations and cool, deep canyons. The weathered sandstone created acid soils which support many unique plants. During the ice ages, northern plants and animals moved into the area ahead of the advancing glaciers. Mammoths roamed the landscape grazing on the northern vegetation supported by the area’s acid soils. Eventually the ice retreated, and so did the mammoths. But many of the plants remained – able to hang on in the cool, moist canyons long after the mammoths that once roamed these canyons disappeared. Because of this unique concentration of rare plants and geologic features, the area has been designated a Missouri Natural Area and a National Natural Landmark.

Yesterday I hiked the aptly-named ‘Trail Through Time’ with my family. This 2-mile trail is one of the most “feature-packed” trails in the state, with something to look at around almost every bend. Almost immediately the trail leads to the Slot, the result of a vertical fracture in the Lamotte sandstone that was loosened by leaching and then widened by erosion. The unique partridge berry (Mitchella repens) was seen on the moist, vertical walls of the rock, growing among strange holes, pockets, and ridges that formed as a result of the sand grains being variably cemented.


A short distance from The Slot lie Cauliflower Rocks – large moundlike formations (also called hoodoos or rock pillars) formed from jointed or fractured sandstone that undergoes deep solutional weathering followed by erosion and weather-mediated shaping. Hoodoos occur primarily in this type of rock due to its granular, variably cemented and cross-bedded matrix.


On the south side of Cauliflower Rocks lies a special type of buttress arch called Double Arch. It occurs at almost a right angle to the adjacent rock outrcrops, suggesting formation along a set of fractures running perpendicular to the main fracture trend of the area, but the precise details of its formation remain a mystery.


After leaving Cauliflower Rocks the trail descends steeply into a deep valley, at the bottom of which lies Pickle Creek just below its origin in a box canyon south of the Natural Area. Lush vegetation in this cool, moist valley contrasts with the stark rocks seen earlier.


The creek is fed by a series of seeps, allowing the valley to remain moist even during the dry summer months, and along with the acid soils support a unique plant community. Lush colonies of ferns (I believe this is Polypodium virginianum L.) covered the rocks adjacent to the creek…


…while this rattlesnake plantain orchid (Goodyera pubescens) was seen in a colony growing at the base of a black oak tree (Quercus velutina) just above the creek.


Mosses and lichens were also abundant in the valley. This little hair cap moss (Polytrichum sp.) with its distinctive fruiting structures was growing in a colony at the base of another black oak tree. The members of this genus prefer acidic environments.


Further ahead, along Bone Creek, several colonies of wooly aphids (family Aphididae) were seen on the branches of a small hop hornbeam tree (Ostrya virginiana).


The highlight of the hike had to be in Spirit Canyon at Owl’s Den Bluff. The horizontal layers of sandstone, each deposited on the steep downstream slopes of sandbars, are clearly visible in the towering bluff face. At the bottom lie bluff shelters – formed where lower sandstone layers collapse due to weathering or leaching, and where native Americans almost surely camped out. The sun never reaches parts of these shelters, providing ideal conditions for a variety of mosses and liverworts – many of which are known only from this area. Fallen boulders and collapsed portions of the bluff face provided photo opps for the daring…


…and good exploring for the nimble.


By now, the trail has passed the halfway point and is looping back to the west, where it ascends to Dome Rock Overlook. Along the way, a fascinating variety of lichens, including reindeer lichen, covers the forest floor where they are supported by the acid soils.


Dome Rock Overlook is a the largest hoodoo complex in the Natural Area. The thin soils and exposed conditions create a harsh, dry, windswept environment that only the hardiest of plants can withstand. Only a few small blackjack oaks (Quercus marilandica), shortleaf pines (Pinus echinata), and farkleberry (Vaccinium arboreum) survive here. Despite their small size, some of the trees growing here are at least 150 years old.


The trail descends from Dome Rock Overlook and passes underneath, providing spectacular views of the sheer rock face below the overlook. The trail completes its descent back into Pickle Creek Valley, where Pickle Spring can be seen. This small, permanent spring – an unusual feature in sandstone where seeps are more common – was an important source of water for early settlers.


Further along the trail lies one of the areas most unusual features – Rockpile Canyon – formed some 50 years ago (a fraction of a second in geologic time) when part of a sandstone bluff collapsed in a rumble, leaving behind a sheer bluff face and a jumbled pile of large boulders. A short spur in the trail leads to the head of a small box canyon, where some of the 20+ ice age relict plant species can be seen growing in the acid soils and cool, moist canyon walls.

Near the end of the loop lies Piney Glade, an area where the exposed sandstone bedrock once again creates a dry, harsh environment. Poverty grass and little bluestem grow in small, shallow pockets of soil scattered amongst stunted shortleaf pines and blackjack oaks – creating a small prairie surrounded by a sea of forest. All three forms of lichens can be found on the rocks and soils of the glade – the aptly named crustose lichens cling tightly to rock surfaces amongst foliose (leafy) and fruticose (branched) lichens.

Rockwoods Reservation, Lime Kiln Loop Trail

Rockwoods Reservation, in western St. Louis Co. is one of the oldest Conservation Areas in Missouri (est. 1938). It contains nearly 2,000 acres of high quality upland forest and a small prairie restoration plot. Despite its proximity to St. Louis and the numerous hiking trails it offers, I haven’t explored this area very much. We had a winter storm move through the area yesterday, dumping about 7 inches of snow over the area. Deep snows are not common in St. Louis, which typically has more open winters, so today offered the perfect opportunity to start exploring this area in a rare wintery setting. My daughters came with me to explore the 3.25-mile Lime Kiln Loop Trail.


The first half mile of the trail follows alongside a spring-fed creek. As we enjoyed the serenity of the snowy landscape, a belted kingfisher flew into a nearby tree, where it paused briefly before zipping off in a chatter. The spring itself offered a beautiful contrast between the green aquatic plants that populate the spring’s exit and the surrounding white blanket.


After the spring, the trail started traversing up the hillside into a mesic upland forest dominated by oaks and hickories. The high canopy of this mature forest resulted in a sparse understory, affording spectacular views back down through the draws from which we came.


The girls were full of energy at this point, so they kept running ahead on the trail and then waiting for me to plod my way back up to them. Eventually they learned their lesson though – everytime they ran up ahead they would get hot and want to take their coats off, then they would get cold and have to put them back on.


There were some drier forest types closer to the bluffs where eastern red cedar (Juniperus virginiana) became more abundant. I coaxed them to pass underneath this one, then whacked it with my hiking stick as they did so. Shocked indignation soon gave way to tenacious efforts on their part to ‘get me back’. Failing that, they redirected their efforts to ‘getting’ each other.


The games eventually gave way to quiet enjoyment of the astounding beauty of the forest. Existing tracks in the snow told us we were not the first to enjoy the trail today, but we didn’t see a single soul all day – it was easy to pretend that we were the only people in this wood. These snow-covered, hollow tree stumps reminded us of tubular sponges.


As the trail descended back down into the valley it passed through these dolomite outcrops supporting a dry upland forest dominated by eastern red cedar and blackjack oak (Quercus marilandica).


Near the end of the trail, we ran across this little spider – actively crawling on the surface of the snow with temps in the mid-20s. I half-jokingly suggested that maybe this was some kind of ‘snow spider’. My 8-yr old daughter thought that seemed likely, then suggested that when we got home we could get online and go to http://www.spider.com/ and type ‘snow spider’ to see what it said. I told her I thought that was a great idea! Alas, that website (and http://www.spiders.com/) lead to a couple of IT company websites, so that was no help. Fortunately, I was able to find something that looked similar – a wolf spider in the genus Gladicosa – on BugGuide. I told Madison her suggestion worked 😉


The lime kiln for which this trail is named was built in the mid-1800’s by a wealthy businessman, who used it to produce lime for mortar construction of homes in nearby St. Louis. The kiln, 12-ft wide at the base and 40-ft high, was built next to the hillside to allow limestone (quarried nearby) to be dumped in at the top. Locally cut firewood was loaded into the arches at the bottom on each side, which heated the kiln to 800°F, converting the stone to lime which was removed from the opening at the bottom in front. Vertical expansion joints on each side in the center allowed for expansion of the stone during heating.


This was the second hike in the past few weeks that I’ve taken with the girls, and like last time they had an absolute ball! Of course, naturalist that I am, it pleases me that they enjoy the outdoors so much, and I’m quite impressed that they hiked such a distance with no complaint. The area offers several additional hiking trails ranging from 1.5 to 2.2 miles in length. At only a 15-minute drive from our house, I look forward to exploring the rest of Rockwoods trails with them.