Hiking

Lake Tahoe, California

/ Ted C. MacRae / Leave a comment

…at last the Lake burst upon us — a noble sheet of blue water lifted six thousand three hundred feet above the level of the sea, and walled in by a rim of snow-clad mountain peaks that towered aloft full three thousand feet higher still! It was a vast oval, and one would have to use up eighty or a hundred good miles in traveling around it. As it lay there with the shadows of the mountains brilliantly photographed upon its still surface I thought it must surely be the fairest picture the whole earth affords. – Mark Twain, Roughing It (1872)


Mark Twain may not have liked the name “Lake Tahoe” – preferring its then-official, patronimic designation as “Lake Bigler.” However, he was clearly overwhelmed by its beauty, and surely no person who has ever seen this place can find fault with the words he so eloquently penned almost a century and a half ago. The view above of Emerald Bay, on the south side of the lake, may not be where Twain first viewed Lake Tahoe, but for me it is the most iconic place from which to view it. I first fell in love with Lake Tahoe almost 18 years ago, when my then fiancée and I first moved to Sacramento. We married up there, and for the 5 years we lived in California we spent many a weekend enjoying Tahoe’s 4-season charm. It has been 12 years since we moved back to St. Louis, and I hadn’t been back — until this past weekend. The reasons for the delay are many, but returning to this place reminded me why I consider it the most beautiful place in the world. I shall not let so long a time pass before my next visit.

Lake Tahoe is a relatively young lake, forming within the last several million years (in contrast, the block of granite that was to become the Sierra Nevada mountains – and in which Lake Tahoe lies – began forming during the Paleozoic Era and was then exposed by erosion beginning about 130 million years ago). The basin in which the lake lies was formed by fault-induced block slippage between two uplifted blocks, with the lake itself forming after magma upwellings dammed the northern part of the basin. Glacial action in more recent years (2 million to 20,000 years ago) caused additional damming, causing drastic fluctuations in the lake level — maximum levels reached nearly 800 feet higher than present. The most recent glaciations (~10,000 years ago) carved out Donner Lake (just east of Lake Tahoe), Emerald Bay (above), and nearby Fallen Leaf Lake (below — the frozen lake surface can just be seen above the trees in the foreground).


Emerald Bay is actually part of a glacial “staircase” featuring intermittent flat stretches containing lakes and meadows before ultimately ending at Emerald Bay. Eagle Lake lies immediately above Emerald Bay on one of these “steps,” and the 1-mile trail to it is one of the most popular hikes in the area — below is a view towards Eagle Lake from Emerald Bay:


On the day we arrived (Sat 3/15), a late winter storm was dumping new snow on the surrounding mountains, as seen in this view across the south end of the lake towards the city of South Lake Tahoe. Heavenly Ski Resort was shrouded from view on this day, but the fresh powder being dumped there would provide for some delightful spring skiing over the next few days.


In the meantime, there would be plenty of activities to keep ourselves occupied. With the amount of snow on the ground, one might think there would be little opportunity for botanizing. However, I favor the woody flora, and I was excited about the chance to begin reacquainting myself with some of the western conifers for a change. Of these, one of my favorites is incense-cedar (Calocedrus decurrens) — mature trees develop thick, deeply furrowed, brick red bark that stands out in beautiful contrast from the other trees. Even dead trees maintain a rustic and majestic beauty, and this large dead snag is as stately as any I’ve seen:


On Monday we rented snowshoes and hiked the cross-country ski trails at Camp Richardson. None of us had ever snowshoed before, but the girls quickly got the hang of it (note the live incense-cedar in the background):


We encountered a few cross-country skiers during our hike, but for the most part we spent the day in solitude. Shortly after beginning our hike, however, we came upon this impression in the snow. At first we thought someone had attempted to make a “snow angel,” but after studying it more carefully we realized it was made by a cross-country skier who had fallen and then struggled to get back up:


At this altitude, conifers dominate the flora. I was a little rusty on my knowledge of western U.S. plants, but I think I have things figured out (please let me know if you see any needed corrections to my identifications). The aforementioned incense-cedar was a conspicuous component of this lake-level forest, and its foliage – arranged in flattened, elongated, rumpled sprays – makes this tree easily identifiable amongst the other coniferous genera with which it grows:


Huge pine trees also dominanted the forest in this area. At first I thought they were ponderosa pines (Pinus ponderosa) due to their large size, irregular crown, and large plate-like patterns on the trunk caused by deep cross-checked fissuring of the bark. Eventually, however, I decided they must instead be Jeffrey pine (Pinus jeffreyi), a closely related species (that was once considered a variety of ponderosa pine), since the bark was more orange than yellow.


A closeup of the needles, which are in bundles of three and measure around 6-8 inches in length:


Another dominant coniferous component of this forest, also reaching massive size, was white fir (Abies concolor). The first photo below shows a large, mature tree in the distance, while the second shows a closeup of the foliage. At first I thought this might be Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), as the needles appeared to be irregularly 2-ranked; however, I asked Prof. Ronald Lanner to take a look, and he confirmed it is white fir. He said Douglas-fir needles are shorter, thinner, darker green, and have a skinny stalk, while fir needles have a fat round base and are wider and flatter. The latter also have a citrusy smell when crushed, which he describes as one of the best smells in the woods! Too bad I did not try it.



This decaying stump also represents white fir based on the scaly gray bark. I suspect the outer layers of the lower portion of the trunk (core still standing) were ripped off over time by animals looking for grubs and insects as decay progressed, eventually weakening it to the point that the upper portion (laying on the ground) finally broke off and fell:


As we hiked, I realized what an important part fire plays in the ecology of these forests. During the drive up from Sacramento, we passed several areas along Hwy 50 that had suffered severe damage due to the wildfires that swept through Lake Tahoe recently. One such area was even seen in the far eastern slopes of Heavenly Ski Resort itself. The forests around Camp Richardson had largely escaped these fires, and I wondered if fire management had contributed to this. Along the trail, evidence of fire was common on the trunks of trees, but few trees – even small ones – had been killed. I presumed the charring was evidence of fires that had been intentionally set and managed by the Forest Service with the objective of preventing fuel accumulation that could lead to the larger conflagrations that caused so much damage in other parts of the basin. These small incense-cedars trunks show obvious fire charring but otherwise looked healthy:


In a few areas it appears even these “cool” fires burned a little hot, killing some of the smaller trees but still avoiding the “torched-earth” damage seen in areas affected by uncontrolled burns:


I’m not much of a birder, but I do love woodpeckers. I got a glimpse of one during our hike, but I didn’t see it well enough to identify it. We did find this woodpecker hole in the trunk of a large, dead Jeffrey pine — a feather can even be seen clinging to the upper rim of the hole. The Lake Tahoe basin is home to several species of woodpeckers — whether this hole belongs to the black-backed woodpecker (Picoides arcticus), white-headed woodpecker (P. albolarvatus), or (more likely) hairy woodpecker (P. villosus) I can’t say for sure:


At the beginning of our hike, signs warning of bears and pleading not to feed them caught the girls attention. I told them it was winter and that they would be hibernating, but I wondered if at this late stage they might actually be starting to become active. It wasn’t long before we encountered these unmistakably bear tracks, made fresh in the new-fallen snow, and the more we looked the more abundant the tracks were to be found. I secretly (and the girls outwardly!) hoped we would see a live bear, but I don’t think the girls would have handled such an encounter very calmly:


I had intended to photograph some of the conifers seen at higher elevations while skiing at Heavenly Ski Resort, but I decided not to bring my camera. Pity, as I not only saw nearly pure stands of what I presume to be red fir (Abies magnifica), but also beautifully twisted and wind-gnarled pines at the highest elevations (+10,000 ft) that probably represent whitebark pine (Pinus albicaulis), judging by their highly forked trunks and upswept limbs. These magically grotesque trees were made even more beautiful by the previous day’s storms, which had deposited thick cakes of ice on their windward sides.

We coudn’t leave Lake Tahoe without one final visit to Emerald Bay. Below is a close up photograph of Fannette Island, the only island to be found in all of Lake Tahoe, and its famed “Tea House”:


We concluded our visit to Lake Tahoe by driving up Hwy 89 to Tahoe City for dinner at the Bridgetender Cafe before heading back to Sacramento. Next up — Muir Woods!

Ozark Trail – lower Courtois Section

/ Ted C. MacRae / 2 Comments

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

/ Ted C. MacRae / 1 Comment

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

/ Ted C. MacRae / 3 Comments

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

/ Ted C. MacRae / 1 Comment

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.

Ozark Trail, lower Trace Creek Section

/ Ted C. MacRae / 3 Comments

The Ozark Trail is a part of a vision, conceived in 1977, to build a scenic and varied route through the Missouri Ozarks, stretching from the St. Louis metropolitan area southwestward to the Arkansas border, eventually connecting to the Ozark Highlands trail–creating a 700 mile through-trail. Almost 550 miles of trail have been completed, with 350 miles in Missouri.
– Ozark Trail Association

My friend Rich and I have been hiking sections of the Ozark Trail for several years now. So far, we have completed ~175 miles, and we hope to eventually hike the entirety of the trail. Yesterday we hiked the 11.5-mile southern stretch of the Trace Creek Section, starting at the Hwy DD crossing in Iron Co. and finishing at the Hwy A trailhead, where the Trace Creek Section joins the Bell Mountain portion of the Taum Sauk Section. The first few miles traversed relatively mild terrain as we followed the Telleck Branch, but after crossing the upper reaches of the Big River the terrain became progressively more rugged. The trail ended with a spectacularly steep descent down to Ottery Creek at the foot of Bell Mountain.

It was a gray day with light drizzle and increasing fog. The air was heavy with moisture, but with temperatures in the upper 30s and only light winds it didn’t feel too cold. While many sections of the Ozark Trail offer spectacular vistas overlooking the regions many spring-fed rivers, few such vistas are found on this section. What we did see were bright green lichens on rocks, on oak trunks, and on the ground underneath pines, small openings in the forest eerily shrouded in fog, and a variety of ferns along stream banks and in rock crevices, dripping with moisture. It rained lightly at one point, forcing us to break out our ponchos, but the rain didn’t last and we were able to stow the ponchos for good afterwards. It was a serene, beautiful experience with not another soul in sight during the entire day. The solutide contributed as much to the splendor as did the visual beauty. Following are some pictures from the day:

A foliose lichen plasters the surface of a rock outcrop

Closeup of the above, showing an highly convoluted 3-dimensional structure

I believe this is type of “reindeer lichen” – Cladina sp. – growing in a colony on sandy soil underneath a pine tree

Close up of the above, showing the intricacies of its fruticose structure

Water hangs heavy from leafless petioles of a downed oak tree

One of the shelf or crust mushrooms, growing on the trunk of an oak tree

Closeup of the above

Hawn State Park

/ Ted C. MacRae / 7 Comments

Hawn State Park, located at the eastern edge of the St. Francois Mountains near Ste. Genevieve, is one of Missouri’s premier parks. Spring-fed streams meandering through stately pine and oak forest have cut deep into Lamotte sandstone bedrock to create canyon-rimmed valleys with tall vertical cliffs. In some areas the streams have exposed underlying igneous rock to create “shut-ins” where water rushes through granite outcrops. This diversity of rock exposures has resulted in a diverse and unique flora, with many of the park’s 660 species of trees, shrubs, ferns, and wildflowers known from nowhere else in the state.

I first visited Hawn some 25 years ago. It quickly became one of my favorite spots for insect collecting and hiking. While most of my insect collecting activities now take place outside of Missouri, it remains one of my favorite places to hike. The 1-mile Pickle Creek Trail follows the lower banks of the stream, offering beautiful views of the sandstone cliffs and granite shut-ins, while the 6-mile north loop of the Whispering Pine Trail traverses the upper bluffs and through the 2,080-acre designated wilderness area. A 4-mile south loop can be added onto the north loop to create a spectular 10-mile hike. I have hiked these trails many times throughout the years, though not recently, and my daughters Mollie (11) and Madison (8) had never been there, so I decided it was time to return for a family day trip.

Pickle Creek flows through igneous granite “shut-ins”

The girls take a break while ascending to the bluffs

Lamotte sandstone cliffs overlooking Pickle Creek

The best views from the cliffs are during winter, while in spring the area abounds with native azaleas

An old tree root wad along Pickle Creek