I belong (or used to belong) to several Facebook groups frequented by insect collectors—both professional and amateur. One question that frequently comes up—primarily for collections with species organized by unit trays—is how to deal with species identification labels. Not surprisingly, the opinions are as varied as the collectors. Some like to put a label on each specimen, while others put a label only on the lead specimen of a series. Some also print or write a separate header label that is placed in the unit tray. What about when names change? Or when reexamination of the specimen(s) reveals an erroneous ID? Should you remove outdated or erroneous identification labels? Fold them? Turn them upside down? Remove them altogether? These questions may seem trivial if one deals only with their own personal collection, but they become much more important when identifying specimens in institutional collections accessible to the public.
Here is my philosophy: an identification is a hypothesis, not data. As a result, ID labels are fundamentally different from labels indicating locality, date, ecological information, and collector, which are data—immutable and unchanging. Identifications can be “wrong” or may change over time, but regardless they merely reflect an individual’s opinion based on their level of expertise and familiarity with state of taxonomy and nomenclature at the time the identification was made. It then follows that identification labels do not need to be placed on every specimen—if a specimen without an ID label gets separated from the series, it does not result in a loss of data in the way it does for a specimen without a locality label, nor do old ID labels need to be changed as a result of nomenclatural changes or corrected identifications—a new label may be added (especially if it is an ID correction), but the old label should not be removed.
Almost as bad as removing old ID labels is folding them, which not only makes them difficult to read but results in mutilation—not just from the fold itself but also from the additional pin holes that are added when re-pinning the folded label. Old ID labels, even if incorrect or out-if-date, represent a historical record of opinion regarding the identity of the specimen, and degrading the labels obscures that history. If one simply must do something to denote a corrected ID, the old label may be turned over, but even then every effort should be made to reuse existing pinholes—just flatten with a fingernail before reusing so the label doesn’t spin. Seriously, however, this simply isn’t necessary—just add the new ID label beneath the old one, which denotes it as the more recent ID (another reason why year should be included on ID labels). Some people don’t like the way this looks, but to do otherwise is to greater priority on visual aesthetics than the integrity of the scientific data represented by the specimen.
As for dealing with nomenclatural changes—I don’t, at least not with already labeled specimens. That old ID label is not “wrong”—it accurately reflects the ID that was given to the series at the time the specimens were identified. Of course, any additional specimens that are added to the unit tray will receive an ID label the reflects the newer nomenclature. Case in point is the above photo, which contains longhorned beetles known for many years as Cosmosalia chrysocoma but recently reassigned to the genus Lepturobosca. You’ll note the older series of specimens bear ID labels with the older name, but the most recently added series contains an ID label with the newer name. There is no reason to go back and change or add ID labels for the older specimens, especially since newer specimens reflecting current nomenclature have been placed in the same unit tray with them. The mix of ID labels representing past and present nomenclature is not problematic—in fact, it adds historical perspective to the series as a whole. On the other hand, were I to receive a series of specimens labeled with an older name from another collection, I would be inclined to add my own, more current ID label (and would certainly do so if the ID—current nomenclature or not—was incorrect), since it was the result of subsequent examination by a different specialist.
Lastly, I don’t waste time creating header labels for unit trays—the ID labels on the specimens themselves are enough to indicate the identity of the species, and the time required to update header labels when nomenclature changes is just that much less time that I have to pin, label, and identify additional specimens being added to the collection.
In any insect collection, space is expensive and, thus, almost always at a premium—especially a large, self-funded, private collection such as mine. As a result, I am constantly looking for creative ways to maximize space efficiency. The photo here shows a technique I’ve adopted that works especially well for “leggy” beetles. Rather than lining them up “knee-to-knee” and wasting space between the specimens, I line them up “knee-to-elbow” by orienting every other specimen head downward. Of course, one can always simply tuck the legs and antennae underneath the body. However, this manner of mounting not only obscures the underside, but, in my opinion, looks rather sloppy and aesthetically unpleasing.
I have a few other tricks I use to maximize not only space in my collection but also its athletics that I may show here in future posts. However, if you have tips and tricks of your own, I’d love to hear them in the comments below.
This is the 10th “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering 13 days of collecting in western Texas, southern New Mexico, and southeastern Arizona July 19–31, 2021. This trip was a “two-parter”—the first week with frequent field mate Jeff Huether (our seventh joint collecting trip) as we made our way from western Texas through southern New Mexico and into southeastern Arizona on our way to a memorial celebration for Jim Wappes at the home of Steve Lingafelter and Norm Woodley (for which I took the day off from collecting), and the second week visiting various locations in the “Sky Islands” of southeastern Arizona with several other entomologists.
Day 1 – Monahans State Park, Texas This was my first stop on the previous trip back in late April and early May, and what a difference a couple of months with good rains makes—dry as a bone then but bursting with a great variety of wildflowers now. Like last time we stopped at the Shin Oak Picnic Area first, and almost immediately Jeff got an Acmaeodera gibbula on living Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite). I started beating the trees and got a good series of that species along with a good series of an Actenodes sp. (prob. A. mendax). There were also some mesquites that had been killed (apparently by herbicide), and when I started beating them I got several more A. gibbula and one Paratyndaris sp. It went from blazing hot when we arrived to raining about an hour later, and for a while after the rain moved through it stayed cloudy and quite comfortable. Eventually we decided to look for another spot with more mesquite to beat.
We found an area closer to the entrance (Equestrian Area) with lots of mesquite and also sunflowers, which Jeff was interested in looking at to search for meloids (blister beetles). Before I even reached the first mesquite I saw an Acmaeodera sp. (maybe A. obtusa) sitting on the flower of Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) and later found another plus one A. immaculata. Off the mesquite I beat just one Actenodes sp. prob. mendax and a few treehoppers, while another and a Chrysobothris sp. got away (it was by now quite hot and they bolted!). I continued beating mesquite but just wasn’t seeing anything, so we decided to take a look at the area around the main dunes and another picnic area.
At the Pump Jack Picnic Area, we saw a lot of Thelosperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in bloom and decided to check the flowers for Acmaeodera. We each got a nice series of what appear to be A. obtusa and A. immaculata. Also, I finally found a single Acmaeodera immaculata on the flower of Hymenoppapus flavescens (collegeflower), which I’d been looking at all day thinking it must be a good Acmaeodera flower host. On the way back to the vehicle, I scared up a cicada that had been singing on a nearby plant—I’d been hearing them all day but assumed they were grasshoppers or katydids. I listened for another and saw it perched on the stem of Mentzelia nuda (bractless blazingstar), and netted it—a fine male, smallish and with a very white venter. I wanted to find one more—catching another A. gibbula in flight, and saw one singing in a mesquite tree. This time I took some photos of it (working carefully not to alarm it) and then hand-caught it (later identified as Diceroprocta texana). A nice end to the visit.
After dinner, we returned to Shin Oak Picnic Area for night collecting. I setup my new Mercury-vapor (MV) station (first time using the gas-powered generator and tripod—slick setup) and my two ultraviolet (UV) stations. Jeff set out three prionic acid lures. Large numbers of Polyphylla monahanensis (which came mostly to the UV stations) and P.pottsorum (which came mostly to the MV station), but otherwise few beetles showed up and not a single longhorn. Other insects were also limited mostly to large numbers of ground-nesting bees and several big grasshoppers. No Prionus came to the lures—not surprising since we are in the tail end of the season for P. arenarius (April to July) and too early for P. spinipennis (mostly August). I’ve only gotten a few P. monahanensis and P. pottsorum before now, so it’s nice to have good series of each, but I would have preferred to collect some longhorns.
Day 2 – Toyahvale, Texas We’re on our way to the Davis Mountains, and along the way I decided to stop at the “Agrilus cochisei” spot we found (on a tip from Jason) back during the April trip. I swept the roadsides—not just the host plant (Artemisia occidentalis, western ragweed) but a variety of other plants in bloom but did not find any A. cochisei. I did collect a few meloids (which were on Solanum eleagnifolium) and Zygogramma leaf beetles but nothing else.
A bit further down the road from the last stop, we noticed this memorial to the many horses that have been transported along this highway on their way to slaughter.
Davis Mountains, Ft. Davis, Texas Another roadside stop for one of the places where I collected during last April’s trip. I was hoping we would not be too late for Acmaeodera—there were plenty of plants in bloom but we did not see any. Senegalia greggii (formerly Acacia greggii, commonly called cat-claw acacia) and Vachellia constricta (formerly Acacia constricta, commonly called whitethorn acacia) were both in bloom, and off the former I got the obligatory Stenaspis solitaria male/female pair as well as a Lampetis drummondii, but I collected nothing off the latter. Tried for a couple of cicadas and missed ‘em both!
Davis Mountains,Boy Scout Rd, Texas This looked like a good spot, with water in the creek and lots of butterflies flying around. Beating, however, yielded nothing but lots of lep larvae. It seems we are in the mid-summer lull—too late for spring things, but too early for late summer-fall species. I think we’ll try some higher elevations and see what it is like.
We were headed back towards the highway when I spotted a stand of Thelosperma megapotamicum along the road. We got out so I could take a look at them and immediately encountered this Texas horned lizard who seems to be saying “WTF?!” I swept through the Thelosperma and picked up two Batyle sp., one Enocleris sp., and a couple of species of meloids. There were lots of other plants in bloom, too, including several that are typically attractive to beetles such as Sphaeralcea and Ratibida. However, nothing was seen on them, further reinforcing our desire to go to higher elevations to see if that would improve the collecting.
Davis Mountains, Madera Canyon, Texas We wanted to get up to higher elevation to see if that might improve the insect collecting. It is strange—the Davis Mountains are greener than I’ve ever seen them, yet there are almost no insects, no flowers. Jeff and I were wondering if the deep freeze Texas experienced this past winter might have knocked out insect populations. We beat along the way but just we’re not seeing anything on the beating sheets. We hiked our way up to the overlook, and up there I ran into a few species of tenebrionids running along the trail and doing their famous “headstands” when we disturbed them. On the way back down I saw a few large, red and black clytrine chrysomelids on what I take to be a fall-flowering helianthoid aster (old flowering stalks were 5–6 feet tall), so I picked up a few for Shawn (my scope of insects that I’ll collect expands greatly when I’m not finding anything in the groups that I study). I think we’ve had it with the Davis Mountains, and tomorrow we’ll travel further west and try our luck around Fabens.
Day 3 – Van Horn, Texas Just a quick stop along the highway when we saw a variety of plants in bloom. Things are different at these lowers elevations compared to the Davis Mountains. Sweeping yielded a number of Agrilus sp. (vittate) and two Agaeocera gentilis—I suspect they were on the Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow), along with an Acmaeodera sp. and assorted other beetles. On a much taller globemallow I found two Tylosis jiminezi (male/female) perched on the foliage—a first for me! I did a little more sweeping further to the south but came up with only a few melyrids and a blister beetle (Epicauta segmenta). Nice stop!
San Felipe Park, El Paso Co., Texas When we first arrived, we were not at all optimistic—it looked like it hadn’t rained in years. However, the Larrea tridentata (creosote) and Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) were both in full bloom, so we began looking about. Almost immediately I saw Stenaspis solitaria in the mesquites, which in itself is not exciting, but two of the first three I saw were the form that has the distinctly reddish-brown pronotum, which I’ve never seen before. I saw a couple more and tried to get photographs, but they were too skittish. As I searched for them, I caught one Aethecerinus latecinctus (a second got away), one Plionoma sp. (not sure if it’s suturalis or rubens), one Chrysobothris sp. (prob. C. octocola) and one Acmaeodera gibbula. The real fun began, though, when I walked by a creosote and saw a Gyascutus planicosta (should be subsp. obliteratus in this area) take flight. I tracked it to see where it landed, caught it, and then put most of my effort into getting a decent series of individuals. I succeeded, but it took more than four hours with the heat maxing out at 96°F! In addition to the Gyascutus, Jeff was quite excited to see the bright green and orange blister beetle Eupompha fissiceps abundant on the creosote in mating pairs and feeding on the petals of the flowers. I finished off the blister beetle fun by finding Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid) crawling in the sand, which, despite the common name, was decidedly bluish.
After going into town to restock on supplies and catch some dinner, we returned to the park to do some lighting and night collecting. The moon is almost full, which generally puts the kibosh on longhorns coming to the lights, but we decided to try anyway because of the high amount of activity during the day in a rarely-visited location. I set up the Mercury-vapor (MV) light only and skipped going through the trouble to put up the ultraviolet lights also. I also wanted to beat the mesquite since I didn’t have much chance during the day, spending most of my time hunting Gyascutus with an aerial net, and once I got the MV setup going I started whacking the mesquite. Almost immediately, I got three Aethecerinus latecinctus, which came off the first two plants I beat. This motivated me further and caused me to commit to beating for the next hour or so—never even getting a single beetle of any kind! By then the lights had been going for awhile, and I was pleased to see several Derobrachus hovorei (palo verde root borer) crawling on the sand near the light. Even though it is a common species, I’ve not seen many myself, so I was happy to have a nice series to take up beaucoup room in one of my prionid drawers. Otherwise, very few beetles came to the lights, or most other insects as well—the sheet being covered primarily by dozens of white-lined Sphinx moths and lots of wasp/bee-type things. We did enjoy the evening, however, as we sat in our chairs and drank a cold brew between checkings of the light.
Day 4 – Chaparral, New Mexico We had planned to take NM-213 north to White Sands, but public access was blocked at Ft. Bliss. While backtracking, I spotted Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow) growing along the roadside and stopped to check it out. There was nothing on any of the plants, despite good growth and appearing to be coming into flowering. I did a little beating on Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) as well—again very little going on, just a few treehoppers, tiny blister beetles, and one weevil. Larrea tridentata (creosote) was in full bloom, just like at Fabens, and here too there were many Eupompha fissiceps on the flowers and in mating pairs. I couldn’t resist collecting just a few and even made a short video of a mating pair engaged in some interesting behavior. I did see one Gyascutus planicosta as it flew by, but I could not track it to see where it landed. Otherwise all I picked up was another Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid)—along with a photo, and a male cicada (maybe Diceroprocta texana) singing on a dry yucca stalk (hand-collected!).
Point of Sands, New Mexico Jeff wanted to stop here to look for Pleurospasta mirabilis, a really cool-looking blister beetle that looks unlike anything else. He found just one by disturbing the host plant (small purple blooms), and I found none—seems we are right at the tail end of their activity period. I looked around for other things also, but there was not much out. I did catch a couple more cicadas (males singing), and near an Ephedra sp. bush I found a mostly-intact carcass of Sphaerobothris ulkei. The most interesting find, however, was a couple of apparently lost pitfall traps—the barriers had fallen over, and the cops were filled with sand and the carcasses of numerous tenebrionids that had fallen into the traps and never been retrieved. I pulled up the cups and filled in the holes to prevent further loss, finding a few live tenebrionids and trogids and one Pasimachus sp. ground beetle that had not yet succumbed in the process.
Hatch, New Mexico While passing through the town of Hatch, I couldn’t resist taking the opportunity to stop and photograph some interesting town characters.
Deming, New Mexico Another roadside stop in an area that was green with flowers and also had Yucca (to look for Tragidion) and Ephedra (to look for Sphaerobothris). Neither of those insects were found, and no buprestids or cerambycids were seen on or swept from any of the many composite flowers about including Thelosperma megapotamicum. I did find a couple of the meloid Lytta biguttata, one on flowers of Cirsium sp. and another on an unidentified yellow composite flower, and Jeff found a huge aggregation of another meloid, Epicauta costata, on herbicide-treated Kali tragus (prickly Russian thistle). I finished off the stop by finding a spectacular ridged tenebrionid beetle walking about after the sinking sun went behind some clouds.
Day 5 – Sunshine, New Mexico We saw a nice stand of what proved to be Picradeniopsis absinthifolia (formerly Bahiaabsinthifolia, hairyseed bahia) and stopped to check them for buprestids/meloids. None were seen, just a few bees and lots of bee flies (genus Geron?). We did find a fair number of Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied meloid) crawling on the roadsides in a patch of Solanum elaeagnifolium (silverleaf nightshade).
Columbus, New Mexico We found a moist drainage along the roadside with plants blooming in abundance, including Isocoma tenuisecta (burroweed) and Sphaeralcea angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow); however, insects were very scarce. I didn’t see any buprestids or cerambycids at all on any of the plants, only picking up one Lytta biguttata and one Cotinis mutabilis on the Isocoma and sweeping single examples of a small black/red Cleridae from the latter and a yellow-flowered composite.
Animas, New Mexico We drove a fair distance west hoping to get into a different rainfall system in hope that insects would be present and saw a roadside in good bloom with the surrounding creosote scrub also green and blooming. As soon as we got out of the car we saw big beetles flying overhead and tracked them back to several creosote bushes very near the car with an aggregation of yet another blister beetle, Pyrota postica, which were mating and feeding on the flowers and leaves. After taking a few photos (and collecting my small series), I started sweeping through the variety of plants in bloom along the roadsides. I did not see anything on the flowers themselves (including Baileya multiradiata, pretty good buprestid flower) but collected a series of clytrine chrysomelids and one Dectes sp. While sweeping through Sphaeralcea hastulata (spear globemallow), I got one Agaeocera gentilis, and sweeping though a mix of S. hastulata and S. angustifolia (narrow-leaved globemallow) I got three Agrilus sp. (perhaps the same as I collected south of Van Horn, Texas). Finally, on the latter, I found one more A. gentilis perched on the leaf.
Portal, Arizona Finally made it to Arizona, and for the first stop I wanted to try a spot below Portal where I’ve had limited success finding Sphaerobothris ulkei on Ephedra. Last time I was I here I found a few, but not until after being distracted by Gyascutus caelatus and Hippomelas sphenicus in the acacias and mesquites. I vowed not to let that happen this time and weaved a zigzag pattern looking at every Ephedra I could find. While I was doing that. I did see one G. caelatus take flight and then caught another that I saw sitting on Vachellia constricta (white-thorn acacia) but remained focused on looking at the Ephedra. Eventually, after not seeing any S. ulkei, I started looking for other buprestids. The acacias were just beginning to flower—only a few plants had open flowers, and Jeff noticed the tiny silhouette of an insect in flight approaching the flowers. He netted it and showed it to me, and to my surprise it was one of the species in the A. stigmata group (black with two red apical spots)—none of which I have ever collected before but which I believe could be A. davidsoni. We spent the next hour watching for and netting the silhouettes on the few trees we could find with flowers, and then I got the beating sheet out and beat more off of the trees (whether in flower or not) to end up with a nice little series. I’ll be anxious to confirm whether these are A. davidsoni.
South of Willcox, Arizona We got to Willcox around dusk, and the cool, breezy conditions told my gut that it would be pointless to set up the lights. Still, I couldn’t let myself not try, and without much opportunity to look for a good place to set up I just went down Blu Sky Rd to E Moonlight Rd and hoped for the best. My optimism waned rapidly, as conditions continued getting colder and breezier, and not a single insect came to the light—I should’ve listened to my gut!
Day 6 – Jim Wappes Celebration, Hereford, Arizona Fun day with lots of fellow coleopterists at the home of Steven Lingafelter and Norm Woodley in memory of Jim Wappes. We got there in the early afternoon and enjoyed eats, conversation, and war stories from the field.
It was a good day for a party, as rain made insect collecting a no-go. As dusk settled, I admired the incredible view from Steve’s and Norm’s back patio!
The fun extended well into the evening hours. My thanks to Steve and Norm for hosting the celebration—what fun to see and talk to so many entomologists in one place.
Day 7 – Superstition Mountains, Weaver’s Needle Vista Viewpoint, Arizona We awoke to rain yesterday morning in Willcox, and it has stayed with us since—first on our way to Hereford for the Wappes Celebration, then up to Phoenix this morning—our efforts to escape the rain by coming north thus proving futile. I came to this spot on a tip that I might find Agrilus cavifrons on Celtis pallida (spiny hackberry) (although maybe a bit early), and I’d hoped despite the light rain I would still be able to find it. I did not—though I found the plants, but I did get a Chrysobothris sp. that I don’t recognize while beating Senegalia greggii (formerly Acacia greggii, cat-claw acacia). Of course, it was on the first plant that I beat, so I ended up beating for another hour with nothing to show for it! While walking the short paved trail, I found Cercidium sp. (palo verde) tree that had been cut up and showed evidence of buprestid infestation in one of the larger branches, so I retrieved and cut it up for rearing.
Lost Dutchman State Park, Arizona We made a quick stop here to admire its incredible scenery before heading back south.
Upper Tanque Verde Falls Trailhead, Tucson, Arizona The rain finally moved out and it was sunny for the drive back to Tucson, but with still-cool temps we weren’t sure if lighting would be worthwhile. We decided to try this spot—not too high (based on a tip by Bill Warner), and I setup the lights using a technique recommended by Roy Morris that involved placing one ultraviolet (UV) light on each side of the sheet, extending the Mercury-vapor lamp above to the top of the sheet, and periodically shutting off the latter to allow the UV lights the pull in the “shyer” insects before turning it back on. While I waited for the lights to started pulling things in, I did some beating around the area. I only collected one specimen, but it was a Cleridae that I don’t recognize, which was beaten off of Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite). Temps ended up in the lower 70s to upper 60s, but at the lights we still got a few longhorned beetles (Aneflomorpha sp.), a few melolonthine scarabs, and a nice series of two species of Pachybrachis (that I will send to Bob Barney).
Day 8 – Atascosa Mountains, Ruby Rd near Atascosa Lookout Trailhead, Arizona The primary quarry here was Acmaeodera chuckbellamyi, a species I described in 2014 from a single specimen collected by my friend and hymenopterist, Mike Arduser, at this location on flowers of Aloysia sp. Several people have tried to find it since—without success, and in June 2011 the area was severely burned by the 27,550-hectare Murphy Fire. I was hoping enough time has passed to allow the area (and beetle population) to recover in this, my first attempt, at finding the species myself. I knew it was a long-shot, and long sorry short I did not find either the beetle or it’s Aloysia host flowers. I did collect a number of other beetles, however, including Lycus lorises, a few longhorned beetles and pachybrachine leaf beetles, and one Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on flowers of Eysenhardtia orthocarpa (desert kidneywood), several Aneflomorpha sp. and a few pachybrachines on Quercus oblongifolia (Mexican blue oak), and more pachybrachines on Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), Mimosa dysocarpa (velvetpod mimosa)—the latter also yielding a few tiny Chrysobothris spp. (one looking like C. lucanus), and Propopis glandulosa (mesquite). Jeff also collected and gave to me a couple of Acmaeodera parkeri on flowers of Talinum aurantiacum (orange flameflower). I hiked 0.7 mi E on Ruby Rd to a spot where I swept a few beetles from low vegetation, and on the underside of a large, fallen branch of Q. oblingifolium I found a large female Polycesta arizonica. Finally, about halfway back to the trailhead I encountered a few tiger beetles on the road near standing puddles of water from the recent rains.
Atascosa Mountains, Peña Blanca Lake, Arizona We came here to look for Deltaspis tumacacorii, which like many rare beetles the odds are against finding it despite it having been taken in the area on several occasions. Again, this would not be one of those occasions, but I was happy to find a tiny tiger beetle (Cylindera viridisticta arizonensis) along the creek and even happier to beat a series of two species of Paratyndaris, one large Lampetis webbii (only my fifth specimen). and one Aneflomorpha sp. from mostly dead Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia).
Huachuca Mountains, lower Carr Canyon, Arizona After dropping Jeff off at his hotel in Tucson (he flies home in the morning), I high-tailed it down to Carr Canyon to do some light collecting. It has been a long time since I’ve seen my sheet covered so quickly and thoroughly with insects! My quarry was longhorned beetles—of which I got a nice variety, but who can resist also the variety of scarabs, ground beetles, tenebrionids, blister beetles, and even planthoppers that flock to the lights in the mountains of southeastern Arizona? I’ll have to control myself a little better in the coming nights! Walking about along the roadsides (hoping to see Amblycheila giant tiger beetles), I encountered a gorgeous male Aphonopelma chalcodes (Arizona blonde tarantula).
Day 9 – Huachuca Mountains, Copper Canyon, Arizona I met Steve Lingafelter and Norm Woodley at their house, and together we drove to the famed Copper Canyon on the south side of the Huachucas. On the way I got a nice primer about the species that have been collected there and the plants they have been collected on. Steve and I started out walking the trail up the canyon while Norm swept the area down below. I pretty much beat every oak along the way, for a while only getting a smattering of beetles—Agrilaxia sp. on Quercus emoryi (Emory oak) and also on Q. arizonica (Arizona white oak) along with Sternidius decorus?. About a half-mile up the trail I beat dead branches of Q. hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak) and, not seeing anything at first, said “I’m going back; I’m literally not getting anything.” Right then, a small black beetle on the sheet caught my eye. I looked at it closely and realized it was a Mastogenius (prob. M. robustus)! I popped it in the bottle and beat more dead branches from the same tree and got not only another Mastogenius but also Tigrinestola tigrina. Freshly motivated, I spent the next half-hour working all the oaks in the area—and, as often happens, did not see another beetle! Nevertheless, it was hard not to be happy with the beetles that I’d gotten.
I walked back down the trail and met Norm, who was just starting up. He filled me in on the results from below, which included sweeping a few Agrilaxia hespenheidei—one of my target species—and an Agrilus sp. on Bouvardia ternifolia (firecrackerbush). I decided to work the slope under the road, reasoning that Norm had likely already worked the flat ground below. On the first B. ternifolia I approached, I saw an A. hespenheidei on the flower, gave the plant a sweep, and caught not only the A. hespenheidei but also an Agrilus sp. (maybe A. latifrons). Over the next hour I would sweep a nice series of A. hespenheidei from B. ternifolia (but not another Agrilus sp.). While I was doing that, I also swept the numerous stands of Acaciella angustissima (formerly Acacia angustissima, prairie acacia) looking for the large, spectacular Agrilus cavatus. I would find two, and considering that I swept perhaps 50 or more stands they were well earned. Also, in the meantime, I noticed Acmaeodera parkeri on small blue flowers that I eventually identified as Evolvulus arizonicus (Arizona blue-eyes). The flowers were few in number and the beetles difficult to catch, so I only ended up with two specimens. Further down the slope the flowers much more abundant, but there was not a beetle to be found on them. In the waning moments of my visit, I encountered two Trichodes peninsularis horni on flowers of Lasianthaea podocephala (San Pedro daisy).
Eventually we all met up at the car, compared our catches (not surprisingly, Norm did very well with buprestids and Steve did very well with cerambycids), and I did okay in both counts. We headed back over Montezuma Pass and were greeted with stunning views looking down into the Coronado National Monument!
Huachuca Mountains, Miller Canyon, Arizona After dropping Steve off, Norm and I went to nearby Miller Canyon to look at a spot where he has collected three species of Taphrocerus (I’ve only collected two, but only once way back in 1987 at a spot in the lower canyon). We thought it might be too late in the season, but it was at least worth a shot. The sedges were lush and green, but the “sedgy wedgies” were absent. Looks like I’ll have to just come back out in April or May!
After striking out with Taphrocerus, I went back down to the lower elevations of the canyon to look for Tragidion on the stand of Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom) that occurs there. Once again, I was likely too late to find them, but as with Taphrocerus it was certainly worth a shot, and again I would not find any despite looking and most of the large plants in the area. I did find a few Euphoria leucographa feeding on the sap flows and a very large red/black clytrine, so it wasn’t all for naught. Just another reason to come out earlier in the season.
Day 10 – Santa Rita Mountains, upper Box Canyon, Arizona After getting reports of buprestid activity near Madera Canyon, I decided to head to the Santa Rita Mountains today instead of continuing in the Huachucas. The shortest route to this most famous of canyons in the Santa Ritas goes down Box Canyon, a less-well-known but still-fantastic canyon in its own right and where I’ve had good luck collecting the two previous times I’ve been there (August 2018 w/ Art Evans, Steve Lingafelter, and Norm Woodley; and September 2019 w/ Jeff Huether). I stopped at the “dry falls” and worked my way back up the road to a point where I’ve collected the majority of my insects there. Along the way, I beat the flowering Eysenhardtiaorthocarpa (desert kidneywood)—insects were not numerous on the plants, but over the course of the trips up and back I got Acmaeodera gibbula, A. cazieri, two Aneflomorpha sp., and a few Lycus sp. I also swept the just-beginning-to-flower Mimosa dysocarpa (velvetpod mimosa) but got just a single Sphaenothecus bivittatus. When I reached the top of the canyon, I looked for a small patch of Allionia incarnata (creeping four-o’clock) in the steep road bank, off the flowers of which I have previously collected Acmaeodera cazieri, A. parkeri, and A. yuccavora. I found the patch, but the plants were not yet in flower. What was in flower on the flats above the bank, however, was Talinum aurantiacum (orange flameflower), off which I collected all three species (A. cazieri being the most abundant and only a single A. cazieri). As at previous stops this week, it seems that insect activity is beginning but is still a bit shy of coming into full peak.
While I was collecting, a caravan of cars came by. They turned out to be filled with entomologists attending the Invertebrates in Education Conference, one of whom I knew—Tad Yankoski of the Sophia M. Sachs Butterfly House in my hometown of St. Louis. He handed me a vial containing a large, live individual of Polycesta aruensis. I was excited to see this, especially when he told me he found it and saw many more in the flats below Madera Canyon, where I had planned to go next!
Santa Rita Mountains, flats below Madera Canyon, Arizona It was a frustrating afternoon on several fronts. Starting off, I had trouble finding the Polycesta aruensis locality, and when I finally did find it there was nary a Polycesta to be seen. Perhaps they sleep during the heat of the day.🤷 After that, there was little time to go anywhere but Madera Canyon, where I spent a half-hour beating Quercus oblongifolia (Mexican blue oak) hoping to see Chrysobothris chalcophoroides (I didn’t) and another two hours checking out Baccharis sarothroides (desert broom) in the area where I collected Stenaspis verticalis and Tragidion deceptus two years ago (also fruitless). Of course, the dreadfully common Stenaspis solitaria was everywhere, but all I ended up collecting was a tenebrionid on the 2-track, a clytrine beaten from Cercidium aculeata (retama), and one Euphoria leucographa along with a nondescript cerambycid (Heaperophanini maybe) on B. sarothroides. On the way back to the vehicle, I encountered a dead, mostly skeletonized deer, and while I rarely collect from carcasses, I noticed a little green beetle crawling on the jaw bone. I figured it must be the cosmopolitan clerid, Necrobia rufipes—something I’d not seen before, so I collected it and tried to collect but missed another one.
Santa Rita Mountains, lower Florida Canyon,Arizona I suppose I can credit my frustrating afternoon for one of my best nights of lighting ever. I stumbled upon this spot at the bottom of Florida Canyon during this afternoon’s Polycesta wild-goose chase and immediately thought, “Wow, what a perfect spot to set up a light!” A nice place to pull off the road with a small, level clearing embedded within low-elevation oak woodland. There was even a babbling creek in the background! It was close to dark by the time I returned and set up the lights (would’ve been even later if I’d gone into town for a “real” dinner). Ironically, there were neither the diversity nor quantity of beetles as two nights ago in lower Carr Canyon. But the cerambycids brought it… and kept bringing it! It seemed like every time I got up to check the sheet there were another 4–5 individuals. I ended up leaving the sheet up for four full hours and collected perhaps 40–50 specimens representing a dozen or more species. A few I don’t recognize, and most of those that I do recognize have resided in my cabinet in precious few numbers until now. It’s been years literally since I’ve had a night like this, and it’s a nice shot of motivation leading into the last few days of what is starting to feel like a long trip.
Day 11 – Madera Canyon Rd, Continental, Arizona I came back to the spot where Tad Yankoski had seen Polycesta aruensis so abundantly yesterday morning but which was completely absent by the time I got there in the afternoon. I did not see any adults on the trees this morning either and was about to give up when I spotted a few partially dead trees with very large, apparently fresh emergence holes in the main trunks that were the perfect size for P. aruensis—good thing I brought my chainsaw! I cut a trunk with its branches and segregated the cut up wood into age (fresh dead versus older) and size (twigs, medium branches, and main trunk) classes. While I was doing this, a Polycesta adult dropped off one of the fresh-dead, medium-sized branches! I beat the remaining branches on the tree and on nearby trees but did not see any more, so whatever Tad witnessed yesterday morning must have been an ephemeral event, perhaps related to synchronized emergence from the very trees among which I collected the wood. NOTE: don’t let anyone tell you that cutting up wood for rearing beetles is anything but a sweaty, exhausting endeavor, even with temps still in the mid-80s and decent cloud cover!
Santa Rita Mountains, lower Florida Canyon, Arizona I had such good night collecting here last night that I thought I’d come back and see what I could find during the day in this ribbon of riparian oak/hackberry woodland. Almost immediately I beat a Paratyndaris sp. off of dead Celtis reticulata (netleaf hackberry). The tree was very dead, but I knew Paratyndaris spp. like old, dead wood, so I split open some of the branches and found larvae inside and also a dead and unemerged but perfectly intact adult of a very tiny Chrysobothris sp. inside one of the smaller branches. Beating on other plants in the area was, in general, fruitless, but occasionally (and just often enough) I encountered something of interest that motivated me to continue working: Paratyndaris sp. and Agrilus sp. on Quercus oblongifolia (Arizona white oak), a small red/brown elaterid on Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite), and Acmaeoderopsis sp., Paratyndaris sp., and a few clytrines on Senegalia greggii (cat-claw acacia).
Santa Rita Mountains, Gardner Canyon, Arizona Last night, I got a message from fellow buprestophile Robert Velten, who told me that he would be in Gardner Canyon the next day, so after finishing at Florida Canyon I drove over to Gardner Canyon to meet up with him. Despite being longtime correspondents, Rob and I had never actually met face-to-face, so I was thrilled to have the chance to do so and spend some time with him in the field. Joining him were his mothing buddies Steve McElfresh and Paul Tuskes, and a little later our mutual friend and Arizona coleopterist-extraordinaire, Margarethe Brummermann, also joined us for a night of lighting. It was great to spend time at the lights with so many like-minded folks! There were three light stations between us, but the weather was less than cooperative—a persistent cool breeze accompanied constant lighting and thunder in the mountains above. Eventually, the threat was realized when the skies opened up, prompting a hasty dismantling and storage of all my lighting equipment safely inside the vehicle. Nevertheless, in the time that I was able to collect, I got a small number of longhorned beetles (half of which came to my light in the moments I was taking it down—longhorns typically become very active right before a storm) along with a variety of showy scarabs and clerids. The rain ended as quickly as it began, so the socializing continued. The entire evening I was continuously taunted, however, by a large prionid sitting inside its emergence hole on the trunk of a large Quercus emoryi (Emory oak). It only showed its jaws and antennae, and if I even touched the tree to boost myself up for a closer look it withdrew deep into the hole. I’m convinced it was Nothopleura madericus—a species I’ve never collected. I can still hear it laughing at me! My attempt to find one out and about by scanning the trunks and branches of of the other oaks in the area with my headlight was not successful, although I did collect another elaphidiine longhorn in such manner.
Day 12 – Santa Rita Mountains, Gardner Canyon, Arizona Rob had noticed a stand of Anisacanthus thurberi (desert honeysuckle)—a host for Spectralia cuprescens—along the road into Gardner Canyon, so together (after morning coffee!) we checked the spot on the way out. The plants were in the early stages of leafing out, and after visually inspecting them for a while and not seeing anything I decided to get out the beating sheet to sample the stand more thoroughly. My eyes did not deceive me—neither one of us found any. Too early? Low population? Who knows! I did beat one clytrine off the plants and collected a few weevils by beating Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite) before finding Acmaeodera parkeri and A. cazieri on the flowers of Allionia incarnata (creeping four o’clock). The flowers were common in the area around the road, but no Acmaeodera were seen until I started scaling the steep hillside nearby—a similar situation in which I’ve found these species on this flower in Box Canyon.
Huachuca Mountains, upper Carr Canyon, Reef Township Campground, Arizona I’ve been wanting to explore the higher reaches of Carr Canyon ever since I arrived in Arizona a full week ago. It is the only high canyon in the Huachucas that has a road leading all the way into its upper reaches. At these high elevations the forest is Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) and Quercus hypoleucoides (silverleaf oak). There are many species of woodboring beetles at these high elevations that simply aren’t found down below. Another reason is the recent discovery up here of one of the rarest and most enigmatic of North American longhorned beetles, Placoschema dimorpha. Not even know to science until it was described from Mexico in 2007, it has since popped up here and a few other places in southeast Arizona—some of which have been heavily studied by coleopterists or many decades. Now, I didn’t actually <u>expect</u> to find such a rare thing, but maybe I could get lucky or at least find some other unusual species. The specimen at this location was photographed on a burned pine tree; however, I do not think that is the host (as far as I am aware, no species in the tribe utilizes gymnosperms as larval hosts). I think the host must be oak, as is the case for many trachderines. So, while I kept an eye out for burned pine trees, I also looked for oak, and especially recently dead oaks showing signs of woodboring beetle infestation. I did some of beating on Q. hypoleucoides and had collected just a clerid (Enoclerus bimaculatus) when I came upon a recently fallen Q. hypoleucoides that showed a few buprestid(ish) emergence holes and looked to be “the right age.” Cutting away the bark of the trunk revealed galleries, and chopping into sapwood revealed buprestid larvae in their galleries. I tagged it for retrieval, eventually cutting it up and segregating the trunk sections from the branches. Very nearby, I found another dead Q. hypoleucoides, this one much smaller and apparently cut rather than fallen. Unlike the previous one, however, this one showed the round holes with ejecting frass that indicated infestation by cerambycid rather than buprestid larvae. Cutting into the wood confirmed the presence of such, and so this one also was later cut up and bundled for bringing back. I saw no beetles on the trunks of any of the many fire-scarred pines lofting overhead, but at one point I spotted in the distance the telltale brown flagging of a recently died pine up the slope. Hiking up to it took some effort, but when I reached it the first thing I saw was a giant click beetle—Chalcolepidius apacheanus (Apache click beetle)—nestled against the ground at the base of the trunk (apparently ovipositing?). Inspecting the trunk of the tree itself, I noted just a few buprestid emergence holes that seemed fresh. Once again, chopping away the bark revealed the frass-packed galleries, and chopping into the heartwood revealed a large pre-pupal buprestid larvae. This was put into a vial, and I noted the location so I could return with the chainsaw and “bring ‘er down.” As I was cutting up the oaks, I found some small, recently cut pine branches near where I had parked the car. I found (and accidentally killed) a woodboring beetle larva of some type (I mangled it pretty good, but I think it was a buprestid) in one of them, so that was good enough to earn a spot in the rearing tubs. Unfortunately, I was not able to retrieve the dead pine tree—cutting up the oaks took a fair bit of time, during which darkening clouds gathered over the nearby peaks. Eventually cracks of thunder began piercing the air. It was all I could do to get the oaks into the car and all of the equipment put away before heavy rain drops began pelting the car. I had no idea what the storm would bring, but the last thing I wanted to be was stranded on the top of a mountain on my last full day of field collecting. As it turned out, the storm was more bark than bite (although the sharp drop in temperatures would kill lighting later in the evening). Perhaps I’ll be able to get back up the mountain in the morning and retrieve the pine tree.
Huachuca Mountains, lower Carr Canyon, Arizona It seems like forever ago that I began this trip, and now the last night of collecting has arrived. I decided to come back to this spot where I’d had such good luck earlier this week, but I wasn’t optimistic given how rain chased me out of the canyon earlier. My pessimism was warranted, and while I did picked up a variety of things, it included only two longhorns—both rather pedestrian species. No, the real charm of the night came not from collecting insects, but after the lights were down and my mind was free to wander as I leaned back in my chair and gazed into the crisp, dark, starry Arizona sky—its perimeter along the horizon bound by a craggy silhouette of nearby oak trees and distant peaks; from listening to the sounds of the night, alternately focusing on the individual cricket or distant coyote versus the chorus as a whole. Only to the north could I see the faint glow of city lights—the only sign that anything beyond me and this moment exist. These moments happen only once on a trip (maybe twice), and they are to be savored; indelibly stamped into the memory banks for future enjoyment; one of those experiences that, when recalled, is guaranteed to trigger euphoric recall.
Day 13 – Huachuca Mountains, upper Carr Canyon, Reef Township Campground, Arizona I went back up to the top of Carr Canyon to retrieve the dead Pinus ponderosa that I found yesterday. Good thing I did, as I also found my favorite hatchet (which I’d inadvertently left behind yesterday). The 9” diameter trunk was almost too big a job for my Stihl MiniBoss chainsaw, but I kept at it and finally felled the the 25’ tall tree. It took three trips up and down the steep slope—each round trip almost a half-mile—to haul out the upper 10 ft of trunk and associated branches, which I segregated into three batches for rearing: trunk, 1–2” día. branches, and <1” dia. twigs. Now let’s hope the effort was worth it and I get some good species out of the wood.
Huachuca Mountains, near Carr Canyon, Waterfall, Arizona One last stop to take in the terrifyingly magnificent views from atop Carr Canyon! You can see the road that I traveled up this morning snaking back down the right side of the mountain. The massif to the left is the highest point that you can see from the valley below, but there are much higher peaks behind me.
Epilogue Sadly, I could squeeze no more stops into the trip—I’d allowed myself two days to make the 24-hour drive back to St. Louis, and it was already almost noon on the first of the two days. I left, however, with a rack full of vials filled with insects and a renewed love for Arizona and the desert southwest that first captured my heart some 37 years ago!
This is the eighth “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering a one-week trip to southern Arizona, New Mexico, and California from September 7–14, 2019 with meloid/cerambycid-enthusiast Jeff Huether. Jeff has been a frequent collecting trip partner during recent years, this being our sixth joint outing since 2012. Our initial objective on this trip was to collect cerambycid beetles of the genus Crossidius occurring across southern Arizona/California—part of a larger effort to sample as many of the named subspecific taxa as possible from multiple locations (including type locations when possible) for future molecular studies. We had good success, though we did not collect every taxon that we were after (we were a tad early in soCal). Also, the fact that we had Crossidius as our primary goal did not mean that we would not concurrently be on the lookout for buprestids (me), meloids (Jeff), or other cerambycids (both of us)—and in that regard we were also successful.
Day 1 – Dripping Springs Mountains, Arizona First stop of the trip, and we’re heading east to Safford. As soon as we got east of Superior up into the mountains we saw a place where Heterotheca subaxillaris was in bloom abundantly along the roadsides and pulled over. There were four species of Acmaeodera on the flowers, and I also found a fifth species on the flower of a small white aster. Nice first stop for the trip!
3.6 mi NW Bylas on US-70, Arizona Continuing our way to Safford, Jeff saw some patches of sunflower and wanted to look for Epicauta phoenix. I found the first two (but not in sunflower), and then Jeff found two more. As we were walking back to the car I noticed a Crossidius suturalis sitting on Isocoma tenuisecta that was not quite in bloom, and then another nearby on the same plant. We searched the area again, but the only plants were those few right around the car.
5.7 mi NE Safford, Arizona After getting a hotel in Safford, we had time to come back to a spot where Jeff had collected Epicauta phoenix back in July. We found quite a few (see photo) on plants nearby the original collection spot. Looking around more I found an Acmaeodera convicta perched on the tip of a shrub—first time I’ve collected this species! There were several species of tenebrionids crawling on the ground, perhaps prompted to activity by cooling temps as rain whipped up in the distance. I kept one eye on the skies and the other on the plants and eventually found two more A. convicta perched together on the same type of shrub just as rain began pelting my back. We made a quick dash back to the car and called an end to Day 1 in Arizona.
Day 2 –1.9 mi S Artesia, Arizona We started seeing Isocoma tenuisecta just coming into bloom as we headed south of town so stopped to see if we could find any Crossidius. I looked at a lot of plants before finding a single C. suturalis sitting on one of the non-blooming plants and in the meantime found one Trichodes peninsularis and a fair number of Zonitis dunniana on the flowers. Looking around on other plants, I found one large Chrysobothris sp. (not C. octocola, but longer and narrower) on the branch of a living Acacia constricta [Edit: this is C. knulli—a new one for me!] and one Acmaeodera disjuncta, several more Z. dunniana and T. peninsularis on flowers of Hymenothrix wislizeni. Finally, I did some sweeping of the bunch grasses in the area and got a nice series of what I presume to be Agrilus rubrovittatus—first time I’ve collected that species!
17.7 mi S Artesia, Arizona Another stop with both Isocoma tenuisecta and also Gutierrezia microcephala coming into bloom. We immediately began finding Crossidius pulchellus on the latter and eventually collected a good series of them and also Trichodes peninsularis off the plants When I returned to the first plant we had checked (in fullest flower), a Lampetis webbii landed on it right in front of me! I eventually found C. suturalis on Isocoma tenuisecta, as well as Trichodes sp. and a few C. pulchellus. There was a tall-stemmed malvaceous shrub off which I got a male/female pair of Tylosis maculata, and sweeping produced a couple more Agrilus rubronotata, a few more T. peninsularis, and one Acmaeodera scalaris. I saw a couple of Acmaeodera disjuncta on Baileya multiradiata flowers but missed them both!
1.1 mi N Rodeo, New Mexico We slipped just inside the New Mexico border to visit the area around the type locality of Crossidius hurdi. We found a spot where there were good stands of Isocoma tenuisecta along the roadsides and checked them out. Like the other spots today they were just starting to come into bloom, and rain had just moved through the area. We found perhaps 20 Crossidius individuals total, and honestly they were so variable that I don’t know whether they represent C. suturalis, C. hurdi, or both! [Edit: they are all C. suturalis] I also collected one Sphaenothecus bivittatus and several individuals each of three species of clerids on the flowers of these plants. A male Oncideres rhodosticta was found on the twig of Prosopis glandulosa, and I also found a cool meloid that I’ve never seen before—Megetra punctata!
Willcox Playa, Arizona We plan to visit Willcox Playa tomorrow (my inaugural visit!), but we had some time at the end of the day and decided to come take a look. There were some stands of Isocoma tenuisecta at the north end of the playa, and I found just a couple of Crossidius individuals on them, presumably C. suturalis, but it looks like they are bedding down for the evening. Also got a couple of Enoclerus sp. on the flowers.
Day 3 –8.4 mi SE Willcox, Arizona On our way towards the Chiricahua Mountains to see if we can find any Crossidius host plant stands. We found patches of Isocoma tenuisecta and Gutierrezia microcephala along Hwy 186 southeast of town—the former was just coming into bloom, but there were plenty of Acmaeodera (scalaris, disjuncta, and amplicollis) on the flowers, including on the unopened heads. We found perhaps a dozen Crossidius suturalis on them as well, and Jeff found one small female that looks like C, hurdi [Edit: it is C. suturalis]. I looked at a lot of Gutierrezia before finding a single C. pulchellus sitting on one of the plants. The same diversity of Acmaeodera as well as a few A. gibbula and T. peninsularis was also found on flowers of Hymenothrix wislizeni, and I took a series of about 10 specimens of what I looks like A. parkeri on flowers of what appears to be Stephanomeria pauciflora. There were also some tiny membracine treehoppers on a thorny shrub (maybe Condalia?) being tended by ants—both adults and young, and I collected a few of the adults.
Jct AZ-186 & AZ-181, Arizona After passing over a small range towards the Chiricahuas we didn’t see any Isocoma tenuisecta until we got to Hwy 181. There were some Baccharis sarothroides at the junction also, so we stopped and looked around. The Isocoma was just barely coming into bloom, but I found two Crossidius on them—one male C. suturalis and one small female that may be C. hurdi [Edit: nope, it is C. sururalis]. Heterotheca subaxillaris was in bloom abundantly, but there were no Acmaeodera on them and the area in general looked quite dry. I did find two A. decipiens on Sphaeralcea sp., and in the way back to the car I spotted a huge Lampetis webbii hanging on Ericameria nauseosa (which we’re not even close to blooming)—surely an incidental record.
4.1 mi SE Willcox, Arizona We came back towards town where things seemed to be further along and found stands of Isocoma tenuisecta in full bloom at the junction of Blue Sky Rd (a classic Arizona collecting locality). Crossidius suturalis were out in numbers on the flowers! Every now and then I got one that seemed too heavily maculated, making me think it could be C hurdi, but in the end I decided that all represented C. suturalis.
Willcox Playa, Arizona We went to the Playa to see if there were any tiger beetles to be had. I hiked to the edge of the Playa, and within a few minutes I saw a Cicindela pimeriana—just the second one I’ve encountered (the first was last night at gas station lights)! With that promise of more, I hiked the entire playa edge and never saw another one! I only saw one other tiger beetle—Cylindera lemniscata—seems I’m a bit late in the season for the Willcox Playa tiger beetles. Nevertheless, it’s a cool place and was fun to see. I’ll definitely be back during the summer, not just for here but for nearby Blue Sky Rd. Arriving back at the car, I did find one Moneilema sp. (I think M. appressum) on cholla. There were Crossidius suturalis abundant on the Isocoma tenuisecta, which, like the last spot, was in full bloom, but I’d gotten my fill of them at the previous spot and didn’t collect any.
Willcox, Arizona (epilogue) Collecting the insects from the field is only the beginning. Each night they must be processed for storage until they can be mounted once back in the lab.
Day 4 – Santa Rita Mountains, Box Canyon, Arizona We passed through Box Canyon on our way to Madera Canyon, so we decided to stop near the dry falls where last year I’d collected such a nice diversity of Acmaeodera spp. on flowers of Allionia incarnata. There was evidence of recent rain, and we found the patch nicely in bloom with four species (scalaris, decipiens, cazieri, and parkeri) on the flowers. Nearby in the wash before it crossed the road was a yellow composite (Xanthisma gracile), from which I collected the first three as well as gibbula, rubronotata, and disjuncta. Euphoria verticalis scarabs we’re flying plentifully around the flowers also—first time I’ve seen the species.
Flats below Madera Canyon, Arizona There are records of Deltaspis tumacacorii from Madera Canton at Proctor Rd collected on Croton, so we stopped by on our way south to give it a try. This seems to be a rather hard-to-find bug, so I didn’t have high expectations, and that’s a good thing because I didn’t see the beetle nor anything that even remotely resembled Croton. I ended up checking out the desert broom (Baccharis sarothroides) in the area on which I’d collected Stenaspis verticalisarizonensis and Tragidion spp. (also without high expectations). There were some interesting congregations of Euphoria leucographa feeding at sap flows on the stems and a few Stenaspis solitaria but otherwise litttle of note. I did find one Hippomelas planicauda hanger-on on a low fabaceous shrub (not Mimosa biuncifera), and inspecting the Gutierrezia microcephala plants revealed nothing but a single Acmaeodera rubronotata.
Madera Canyon Rd, Arizona We stopped real quick down the road on the way out of Madera Canyon because we saw stands of Isocoma tenuisecta, although they were still just shy of blooming. We looked at quite a few and found a single Crossidius suturalis—probably we are a tad early, and the area looks like it could use a good rain to pop things out and bring the Isocoma into bloom. We also saw low plants that could be the Croton that Deltaspis tumacacorii has been found on [Edit: I do not believe these are the plants, as they are too low]. Would be good to revisit this spot after a good rain!
Tumacacori Mountains, Walker Canyon, Arizona Our second shot at Deltaspis tumacacorii, which has also been taken in Walker Canyon. We found thick stands of knee-high flowers that we immediately took to be the Croton—just as described by our contact—on which the beetles have been taken. However, we quickly began doubting that ID and decided the plant must be some type of composite. That would make more sense from a host plant standpoint, as all known host plants for Crossidius spp. are composites (subsequently determined to be Pseudognaphalium leucocephalum, family Asteraceae). We looked at the dense stands for quite some time but didn’t see any beetles (or much of anything else) before deciding that we were probably too early—had the beetles already emerged we would have at least found some stragglers. I did take a few Acmaeodera on the flowers (scalaris and rubronotata), as well as a large cantharid (Chauliognathus profundus). I also took single A. amplicollis and A. rubronotata individuals off of a large helianthoid composite (Viguiera cordifolia) and one A. rubronotata on a small yellow composite (Xanthisma gracile). There were a multitude of darkling beetles crawling in the ground—in one spot I saw five individuals of several species all within a one-square foot area. We’ll have one more shot at D. tumacacorii tomorrow at Kitt Peak.
Day 5 –Pan Tak, Arizona (road to Kitt Peak) Today’s destination is Kitt Peak to look for Deltaspis tumacacorii and Acmaeodera resplendens, but at the entrance we saw some Isocoma tenuisecta just coming into bloom and decided to check it out. We found a half-dozen Crossidius suturalis but had to really work for them. Alliona incarnata was also nicely in bloom, but I got only one Acmaeodera parkeri? and one A. alicia off of the flowers. There was some Gutierrezia microcephala present, also not quite in bloom, off of which Jeff got a pair of C. suturalis and gave me one. Kinda dry but lots of flowers—wish there would have been more beetles coming to them.
Kitt Peak National Observatory, Arizona Our last chance to find Deltaspis tumacacorii, and I also got a tip that Acmaeodera resplendens has also been taken up here. We immediately found several species of Acmaeodera (amabilis, amplicollis, decipiens, and rubronotata) abundantly on several composite flowers—Heliomeris longifolia, Heterotheca fulcrata, Hymenothrix wrightii, Solidago velutina, and Gutierrezia microcephala, and I found a single A. solitaria on a pink malvaceous flower, but no A. resplendens. We also searched thoroughly for any Croton-like plant for D. tumacacorii but found nothing. The Kitt Peak records of that species are older than the Walker Canyon, Peña Blanca, and Madera Canyon records, and most of the records seem to be in August rather than September, so I suspect we are a bit late for both the species and its host plant. My plan at this point is to return sometime during the middle of August and enlist the help of the source of one of the recent records to accompany me.
Road to Kitt Peak, Arizona We had noticed Gutierrezia microcephala and some other yellow composites in bloom about halfway up the mountain on our way to Kitt Peak and decided then to stop and take a look around on the way down. I took “down” the mountain, Jeff took “up.” I hadn’t walked very far when I saw what I at first thought was the cantharid Chauliognathus profundus (which I had seen yesterday at Walker Canyon preying on another cantharid) on G. microcephala flowers, but something about it gave me pause—it was too cylindrical and robust. I leaned closer to get a better look and realized it was a cerambycid—one that I did not recognize, a beautiful orange color with black elytral apices and pronotal spots! I quickly grabbed it with my right hand, immediately saw another elsewhere on the bush and grabbed it with my left hand, and as I stood there trying to fumble a vial out of my pack to put them in I saw a third individual taking flight from the bush and spiraling into the air and out of reach! I shouted out to Jeff, who came down to where I was, and showed him what I’d found, and together we decided that it must be Mannophorus forreri—a very uncommonly encountered species and more than adequate consolation for not finding Deltaspis tumacacorii earlier in the day. We spent the next hour searching up and down the roadsides, and I ended up with two more individuals from Gutierrezia flowers and two from Heterotheca fulcrata. Jeff found an additional individual on flowers of Thelesperma sp. I also picked up a few black and white Enoclerus sp., one on flowers of G. microcephala and a mating pair on flowers of Acacia berlandieri. We have a long drive to California in front of us now, and it sure is good going into the drive with such a great find under our belts.
Day 6 – Cajon Pass, California Finally made it into California! Once we turned off the interstate, we made a quick stop to look at the roadside habitat where we spotted a good stand of Isocoma sp. in full bloom. We looked at quite a few plants but didn’t find any beetles on them. There were also good numbers of Ericameria nauseosa plants as well (host for Crossidius coralinus), but they weren’t quite yet in bloom yet and the only thing I found on them was a mating pair of Agrilus walsinghami. Moved on quickly to the next spot!
Lancaster, California We met up with Ron Alten and traveled to a classic “Crossidius” collecting site (up to four species have been taken there). We’d stopped at a couple of places on the way there but not found anything—either the host plants were not yet blooming or no beetles were found, so we had the feeling that we might be a week or two early. We had to drive into the habitat a ways before we started seeing host plants—in this case Ericameria nauseosa—but eventually we found a nice large area with the plants in full bloom. It didn’t take long before we found Crossidius coralinus (populations in this area are assigned to subspecies ascendens) on the blossoms. We worked the area for a couple of hours in the heat (97°F) and got a sufficient series for study with some individuals in ethanol for DNA analysis. Males exhibit quite a bit of variability in the degree of development of the elytral markings (thin to moderately expanded sutural marking), while females were quite consistently fully expanded. Males also outnumbered females by 3:1, and all of the individuals I collected were perfect and not damaged—both suggesting that the species is just beginning to emerge. Perhaps that is why we did not find individuals of the other species (mojavensis, suturalis, and testaceus). What I did find, however, was a small trachyderine cerambycid that none of us recognized! It was on the flowers of E. nauseosa—just like C. coralinus—and at first I thought it might be a small, aberrant C. coralinus, but the elytra are completely blue-black and the size was significantly smaller than the smallest C. coralinus male that we saw. I scanned BugGuide and didn’t find anything that matched, so this will have to remain a mystery for now. [Edit: I later determined this to be a heavily marked C. discoideus blandus. In the field I couldn’t see the orange laterals on the elytra.]
Day 7 –Santa Catalina Mountains, Mt. Lemmon, Arizona We decided we were just a bit to early for things in California and decided to come back to Arizona where we’d been having better success. I wanted to take another shot at Acmaeodera resplendens and had been told that Oracle Ridge Trail was a good locality for them, though maybe a bit late. We began seeing them soon after getting out of the car—unmistakable by their brilliant metallic green to copper color. They were not numerous, so I had to work for them and walked the trail about 2 miles out collecting them off a variety of flowers. The majority were on Bahia dissecta, and I also found occasional individuals of them and other species of Acmaeodera (amabilis, amplicollis, decipiens, and rubronotata) on flowers of Heliomeris longifolia, Heterotheca fulcrata, Hymenothrix wrightii, Ageratina herbarea, Achillea millefolium, sweeping, Cirsium sp., and prob. Viguiera dentata. One other beetle I found was a Megacyllene sp. sitting on a plant under a stand of Robinia neomexicana [Edit: this is M. snowi snowi—another new one for my collection!].
Scenic Overlook, Santa Catalina Mountains, Arizona A quick stop on the way back down the mountain at a spot where we’d seen Gutierrezia microcephala and Heterotheca subaxillaris blooming along the sides of the road. There wasn’t much going on—a couple of Acmaeodera amplicollis and one A. rubronotata on the flowers of H. subaxillaris, one Enoclerus sp. on Solidago velutina, one A. solitaria on Baccharis sarothroides, and another swept from grasses. I did see Peucetia viridans (green lynx spider) feeding on a very bristly tachinid fly.
Day 8 –Santa Rita Mountains, Montosa Canyon, Arizona (halfway up) We decided to visit Montosa Canyon to take another shot at Deltaspis tumacacorii and also see if maybe we could find more Acmaeodera resplendens. We didn’t see many flowers along the way up the canyon until about the halfway point. When we did start seeing them we made a quick stop to see what might be on them. I collected some of the more common Acmaeodera (rubronotata, decipiens, and amplicollis) off a few different yellow composite flowers, but we quickly decided to take a look at the higher elevations.
Santa Rita Mountains, Montosa Canyon, Arizona (entrance to Whipple Observatory) The road was gated past the km-13 point—Jeff took the roadsides, and I took a ridgetop trail off to the south for a little over a mile. The panoramic views were spectacular, and at the southern terminus I stood at the edge amidst gale-force winds admiring the landscape! Acmaeodera were diverse and abundant, though not quite as abundant as yesterday on Mt. Lemmon or a few days ago on Kitt Peak. However, I did get another nice series of A. resplendens, along with decipiens, rubronotata, amplicollis, and amabilis. Host flowers were collected for most of these: Hymenothrix wrightii, Erigeron neomexicanus, Linum neomexicanum, Heliomeris multiflora, Verbesina enselioides, Heliopsis parvifolia, Heterotheca subaxillaris, and Machaeranthera tanacetifolia. I also collected a small series of A. decipiens perching on grass stems and a very cool-looking wasp—black with a bright orange thorax and whitish abdominal apex [edit: I believe this is the scoliid Psorthaspis portiae].
Santa Rita Mountains, lower Montosa Canyon, Arizona We stopped at a spot near the bottom of the canyon on the way out to see what was going on at the lower elevations. The answer—not much! There were a variety of woody shrubs and other plants in bloom, but the area seemed rather “wilty”. I think this area has a lot of potential, we just didn’t hit it at the right time. I did take an impressively huge tarantula hawk, just because.
Flats below Montosa Canyon, Arizona I was a bit disappointed at not finding any beetles at what seemed would be the last collecting stop of the trip. But on our way out we saw a patch of Isocoma tenuisecta in bloom in the lowlands some distance west of the entrance to the canyon—just what we were looking for! Jeff and I each quickly found Crossidius suturalis individuals on flowers of the plants and continued searching up and down along the roadway. We didn’t find any more for awhile but when I got back to the area where I started I spotted another one sitting on a plant on the other side of the barbed-wire fence. I extended my net handle to the max, maneuvered it in position, took an assertive swipe, and got it. Just as I was putting it into the bottle, I saw another one take flight from a plant right beside me. I hadn’t closed the bottle yet but didn’t want the other one to get away, so I capped my thumb over the opening, awkwardly wielded my net into position one-handed, chased after it and took a swing and got it, too! (More often than not these situations end up with me losing both specimens!). There was also a good amount of Hymenothrix wislizeni along the roadside, off the flowers of which I collected several Acmaeodera gibbula, A. disjuncta, and A. rubronotata. This is probably the last collecting locality of the trip, so I’m happy to end up having success with this subspecies of Crossidius (C. suturalis intermedius), which we havn’t found in large numbers on this trip. Just after leaving the site, we saw a bobcat on the side of the road—my first one! Unusual to see one in the middle of the day—it was a small one, must’ve been quite hungry!
Phoenix, Arizona (epilogue) Bill Warner was kind enough to host Jeff and I for our last night in Arizona prior to returning home tomorrow. What an amazing collection he has built, and his use of flight-intercept traps in recent years has turned up even more amazing beetles. I was happy to also meet Andrew Johnston and Evan Waite, who joined us for dinner.
One of the most useful collecting techniques for those interested in longhorned beetles (families Cerambycidae and Disteniidae) is fermenting bait traps. I was first clued into the use of such traps soon after I began collecting these beetles in the early 1980s and encountered a series of rather old publications by A. B. Champlain and S. W. Frost detailing their usefulness and the diversity of species found to be attracted to them. Champlain & Kirk (1926) listed 15 species of Cerambycidae attracted to bait pans containing a mixture of molasses and water. This list was expanded to 37 species by Champlain & Knull (1932), who noted that a mixture of one part molasses to ten parts water in a gallon-pail seemed to give the best results. Frost & Dietrich (1929) listed 20 species captured with a mixture of one part molasses to 20 parts water. Twelve of the species they mentioned were not listed by Champlain & Knull (1932), and the list of Frost (1937) included two additional previously unrecorded species.
I made extensive use of fermenting bait traps during my 1980s survey of longhorned beetles in Missouri (MacRae 1994) using a mixture of one part molasses, one part beer, nine parts tap water, and a sprinkling of dry active yeast to start fermentation. This recipe was based on that of Champlain & Knull (1932) (although I must confess that I do not remember where I got the idea to add beer and yeast). During that study, I collected 13 species of longhorned beetles using this method and found in other collections specimens of three additional species also collected with fermenting baits. Of the species I collected, the most significant was a large, attractive Purpuricenus that closely resembled P. axillaris (which was also collected in the traps) but clearly was not that species. These eventually proved to be undescribed after I was able to examine type material in the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard University, leading to a review of the genus in North America and the description of the new species as P. paraxillaris (MacRae 2000). Since then I’ve employed fermenting bait traps to collect Cerambycidae in other parts of the country (MacRae & Rice 2007), and I now have records of 72 species of U.S. Cerambycidae documented as being attracted to fermenting baits.
Molasses-beer fermenting bait trap.
My interest in this technique was renewed some years ago when I finally succeeded in collecting the spectacular Plinthocoelium suaveolens in fermenting bait traps placed on glades in extreme southwestern Missouri. During my Missouri survey, I had done the bulk of my bait trapping along the edges of glades just south of St. Louis in Jefferson County, and while I had a record of this species in those glades I had never collected it there myself. Finally, last year I observed one of the host trees (gum bumelia, Sideroxylon lanuginosum) on these glades with the characteristic P. suaveolens larval frass pile at the base of the trunk, prompting a renewed effort this past season to collect the species there using fermenting bait traps. In early June I placed a series of traps at Valley View Glades Natural Area (~4 miles NW of Hillsboro) and Victoria Glades Natural Area (~2.5 miles S of Hillsboro). At both locations four traps were placed along the upwind interface between dry, post oak woodland and dolomite glades. Traps were spaced about 50–100 yards apart and hung to ensure exposure to sunlight but minimize the chance they would be discovered by vandals. Each trap consisted of a 2-L plastic bucket with a small hole drilled near the rim on each side and a length of wire attached to allow hanging from a nail in the side of a tree. Two baits were used: 1) molasses/beer, and 2) red wine. The molasses/beer recipe was based on Guarnieri (2009)—more concentrated that what I have used previously, and was prepared by combining a 12-oz (355 mL) jar of dark molasses with an approximately equal volume of tap water in a 1-L plastic bottle, agitating thoroughly, and bringing to one liter volume with tap water. At the trap site, about 500 mL of diluted molasses was added to the trap, followed by a 12-oz can/bottle of beer and one-half of a 7-g packet of dry, active yeast. Red wine bait was a cheap jug variety, undiluted, with about 500 mL added to the trap. Molasses/beer and red wine were alternated in the traps at each location and replaced every two weeks or if excessively diluted by rain or evaporated during hot, dry conditions. Traps were checked weekly from early June to mid-September by pouring the trap contents through a kitchen strainer over an empty bucket and transferring beetles with forceps to empty vials. Once back at the vehicle, tap water was added to each vial and the vial agitated to rinse the specimens and remove bait residue. The water was decanted and the beetles blot-dried with paper towels before transfer to clean vials containing tissue and ethyl acetate to halt decay and maintain the beetles in a relaxed state for pinning.
A charismatic trio of Cerambycidae from fermenting bait traps at Victoria Glades: Purpuricenus paraxillaris (left), Plinthocoelium suaveolens (center), and Stenelytrana emarginata (right).
A note about my preferred trap design. I have always used open-top buckets (previously 1-G metal, now 2-L plastic), but “window jugs” (i.e., ½-G milk or juice jugs with holes, or “windows”, cut in the sides) are also commonly used. I have not directly compared buckets with window jugs; however, I favor buckets because I believe beetles attracted to window jugs are more likely to “perch” on the trap itself rather than fall directly into the bait. I also believe that beetles, once trapped, are more likely to escape from window jugs because the window edges provide “grab” sites for beetles before they succumb. The risk of escape can be reduced if the bait surface lies well below the bottom edge of the windows, but this then limits the quantity of bait that can be used. In my experience, 500–750 mL is the minimum volume of bait that is needed to last the duration of the two-week fermentation cycle without evaporating to the point that it is not deep enough to quickly submerge beetles falling into it. Some may be concerned that open-top buckets are prone to dilution by rain, but in my experience this happens infrequently and I have not noticed diluted bait to be any less effective at attracting beetles. Rain shields, on the other hand, only serve to provide a potential perch for beetles attracted to the trap.
Plinthocoelium suaveolens captured in flight near its host tree, gum bumelia (Sideroxylon lanuginosum), at Victoria Glades.
A total of 558 longhorned beetles representing 16 species were collected from the traps over the course of the season (see list below). Of these, 339 specimens representing 14 species were attracted to molasses/beer, while 219 specimens representing 14 species were attracted to red wine. Ten species were represented by more than two specimens and were attracted to both bait types, the most desirable being Plinthocoelium suaveolens (41 specimens), Purpuricenus axillaris (20 specimens), P. paraxillaris (3 specimens), and Stenelytrana emarginata (6 specimens). The number of P. suaveolens collected is remarkable, considering that it was not collected during my previous trapping effort spanning several years in the 1980s. It may be significant that 1) the molasses/beer recipe used in this study was considerably more concentrated than that used in the 1980s, and 2) nearly twice as many specimens were collected in red wine (not used in the 1980s) compared to molasses/beer. I routinely examined the gum bumelia trees during my weekly visits in an attempt to find adults on their host, especially during flowering, but encountered only a single adult in flight near one of the trees—a curious result given the diurnal habits and large, conspicuous appearance of the adults. All other species collected in numbers were more attracted to molasses/beer, with the significant exception of Purpuricenus paraxillaris. Seven species taken this season were not detected with fermenting bait traps in the 1980s, bringing to 23 the number of species collected by this method in Missouri. One species, Strangalia sexnotata, is documented from fermenting bait for the first time in this study.
2015 fermenting bait trap catch, box 1 of 3 (click to enlarge).
2015 fermenting bait trap catch, box 2 of 3 (click to enlarge).
2015 fermenting bait trap catch, box 3 of 3 (click to enlarge).
Longhorned beetle species and numbers taken in fermenting bait traps in 2015—most to least abundant (MB = molasses/beer, RW = red wine):
* Not previously reported at fermenting baits in Missouri.
** Not previously reported from fermenting baits anywhere.
With regards to other insects, no attempt was made to quantify their occurrence or diversity, but a few interesting specimens were collected. Elateridae (click beetles) and other beetles were notable by their absence, in contrast to the great diversity recorded from by Champlain & Knull (1932). Flower scarabs were the exception, with two Euphoria inda and a moderate series of E. sepulchralis taken only in red wine traps. The most common non-beetle insects encountered were moths, flies, and stinging wasps, for which molasses/beer seemed to be much more attractive than red wine. The majority of the wasps were Vespidae, but a few large Crabronidae (one Sphecius speciosus and two Stizus brevipennis, I think) and at least two species of Pompiliidae were collected (see box 3 image above).
The diversity of longhorned beetles collected this season was undoubtedly influenced by habitat selection for trap placement (interface between dry, post-oak woodland and dolomite glade). Different habitats would likely yield different species, although prior experience seems to suggest that traps placed in open woodlands are more productive than those placed in dense forests. Recently thinned forests may have good potential due to an abundance of dead wood from thinning operations and trees stressed by sudden exposure to sunlight. Plans are currently underway to place traps (both molasses/beer and red wine) in a variety of wooded habitats during the 2016 season.
On my most recent Great Plains collecting trip, cactus dodger cicadas weren’t the only residents of the cholla cactus (Cylindropuntia imbricata) that studded the open grasslands in southeastern Colorado—cactus beetles (Moneilema spp.) also were found, though in lesser numbers than their frenetic, screeching neighbors (perhaps the reason for their scarcity?!). I’ve covered cactus beetles before, posing the question, “How do you photograph cactus beetles?” The answer was, of course, “Very carefully!” That is certainly true in most cases, but not all.
The clumsy, flightless adults rely on their host’s vicious spines for protection.
Cactus beetles are found almost exclusively on opuntioids (chollas and prickly pear cacti), and while most opuntioids are rather viciously spined the plants themselves vary tremendously in structure. Prickly pears (Opuntia spp.), on which I previously photographed these beetles, generally grow in low, dense clumps, their flattened pads often forming a tangle of well-armed hiding places for the beetles. Such is not the case with chollas, which are generally taller, more erect, and have a much more open structure of well spaced, cylindrical stems. The beetles on these plants still enjoy a great amount of protection by the long, barbed spines that cover the stems, but to entomologists/photographers like me they are still much more easily collected and photographed. In this particular case, no special techniques were needed to get nice close-up photos against a clear blue sky other than crouching down a bit and being careful not to lean too close to the plant. That is not to say, of course, that photographing insects on cholla is completely without risk, as this photo showing the spines impaled in my flash unit afterwards will attest (but better the flash unit than poking the lens!).
The hazards of photographing cactus beetles.
The cactus beetle in these photographs appears to be an armed cactus beetle, Moneilema armatum, by virtue of the small but distinct lateral spines on its pronotum, lack of pubescence on the elytra, and relatively smooth pronotum lacking large punctures except along the apical and basal margins. These shiny black beetles occur in the western Great Plains from Colorado and Kansas south through New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas into northern Mexico. Adults and larvae seem to prefer chollas over prickly pears—adults feeding on the surface and larvae tunneling within the stems. I suspect the adult feeding helps provide nutrition for egg maturation in addition to creating an oviposition site, and plants infested with larvae often appear unthrifty and exhibit black masses of hardened exudate along their stems (Woodruff 1966).
Hardened black masses of plant exudate indicate larval feeding within the stems.
Linsley, E. G. and J. A. Chemsak. 1984. The Cerambycidae of North America, Part VII, No. 1: Taxonomy and classification of the subfamily Lamiinae, tribes Parmenini through Acanthoderini. University of California Publications in Entomology 102:1–258 [preview].
Woodruff, R. E. 1966. A cactus beetle new to the eastern United States (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae). Florida Department of Agriculture, Division of Plant Industry, Entomology Circular No. 53, 2 pp. [pdf].
Those who follow me on Twitter know that I attended Entomology 2014 last month in Portland, Oregon. As with other scientific conferences, live tweeting of the talks and associated events was all the rage. I may not have been the most prolific “tweeter”, but I did do my share, and one of my tweets involved a rather spectacular preserved specimen of the jewel beetle, Chrysochroa corbetti. The quick iPhone snapshot attached to the tweet was sufficient to prove that the beetle is pure eye candy, but still it did not do full justice to its stunning beauty:
Fortunately, while I was at the meetings I ran into Thomas Shahan—already an icon among insect macrophotographers for his seemingly impossible portraits of jumping spiders, tiger beetles, and other insects. I had planned to spend a couple of days in Salem after the meetings to visit my friend and longtime buprestophile Rick Westcott. As it happens, Thomas is currently a Digital Imaging Specialist at the Oregon Department of Agriculture where Rick spent his entire career as an entomologist. When I showed my specimen to Thomas, he kindly agreed to make some focus-stacked images of the specimen using his lab’s photographic setup. I think you can now agree that this is one of the most spectacular jewel beetles around, and I think you’ll also agree that these images by Thomas are perhaps the most stunning of this oft-photographed species. Be sure to check out the last photo—a 10× close-up of the dorsal elytral detail at the interface between the green and blue areas. Simply stunning!
Fresh off our unexpected success at finding Prionus integer in the shortgrass prairie of southeastern Colorado, field mate Jeff Huether and I made our way down into northeastern New Mexico to see if the prionic acid lures we used to attract that species would bring us success with other species of Prionus. Several species in this genus are known to occur in the Great Plains, and we had records of three from the area around Gladstone (Union Co.). Based on our experience from the previous day, we stopped at several sites that had sandy/loam soil and searched exposures along the roadsides for burrows that bore any resemblance to those that we had found associated with P. integer. Frustratingly, we saw no such burrows or evidence of the presence of Prionus beetles in any of the spots that we searched.
Eventually, with day’s end drawing near, we decided to play a hunch and set traps at two sites with soil exposures that seemed most similar to those seen the day before. As Jeff set the last pair of traps in place, I occupied myself photographing a dusty hognose snake (Heterodon nasicus gloydi). While photographing the animal, I happened to look down to my side, and what did I see but a male Prionus crawling through the vegetation! I recognized the species immediately as P. fissicornis—represented in my cabinet by a single specimen. This species is distinguished by the highly segmented antennae (up to 30 segments or more) that place it in the monotypic subgenus Prionus (Antennalia). I called out to Jeff, and for the next half an hour or so we scoured the surrounding area; however, our searches were in vain as we failed to find another individual.
Prionus (Antennalia) fissicornis male | 24 June 2014, Union Co., New Mexico
We cast an eye towards the north and watched late afternoon thunderstorms roll across the expansive landscape. Rain is normally a downer on an insect collecting trip. However, considering the numbers of P. integer that came to the traps after rain the previous day, we actually found ourselves hoping that the skies would open up. Whether they would and if this would lead to success with P. fissicornis (or other Prionus species), however, would have to wait until the next morning when we returned to check the traps.
Thunderstorms over shortgrass prairie.
Around 10 a.m. the next morning our reward was revealed—traps brimming with P. fissicornis males! Each trap contained more than a dozen individuals, and males were still actively crawling around in the vicinity of the traps as well.
We spent about an hour at the site determining the extent of their occurrence, and like P. integer the previous day the males were found almost exclusively in a small area adjacent to (and upwind from) the traps. As we searched, we also found a few females, one of which seemed to be in the act of ovipositing into the soil at the base of a plant. I carefully excavated the hole into which the ovipositor had been inserted once the female withdrew it, but I was unsuccessful in finding an egg. Perhaps she was only probing to search for a suitable oviposition site and did not find this one to her liking.
Prionus (Antennalia) fissicornis female | 24 June 2014, Union Co., New Mexico
There are some interesting similarities and differences with this species compared to our experience with P. integer the previous day. Males of both were highly attracted to the prionic acid lures that we used and were effectively trapped in cans over which the lures were suspended. It is also interesting that both species were found in rather large numbers directly after a rain event, and it seems logical to presume that rain might trigger adult emergence—as is the case with many insects that inhabit dry habitats with seasonal rains. However, we did not find P. fissicornis adults associated with burrows as with P. integer, making me even more intrigued with the burrowing behavior in the latter and its possible function. Also, it is interesting that we found P. fissicornis adults most active during the morning hours and P. integer most active during early evening, but since we did not visit both localities at both times of day it is not possible to say for sure that the two species differ in their adult daily activity.